I never participated very much or commented on other peoples writings online until I found The Iron Legion Blog - Those writings and ideas where very inspiring - They clicked with me and pushed just the right buttons at just the right time...but - There wont be another site like it and I don't know if It's writer, Simon, will return... but... it seems... my comment posting days are over.
This was originally posted yesterday as a comment on another blog...
but... it did not survive for long
My opinions and writings belong at the Deringer Files anyway
where those who want to read them can find them.
Sometimes the best way to
find yourself is to loose yourself...
and if you can loose
yourself in the magic of an ancient forest – still and quiet and
far from the problems of the modern world, lonely but for the
creatures it cradles in the night... a place that was there before
you were born and will be there long after the world has lost it's
memory of you... a place that still carries the echos of the myths
left behind from the wanderers that came before you... even better.
In such a place you can
loose yourself and find yourself over and over... and over again.
There you can cleanse
your mind and your soul and your body from the toxic progressive
madness of the cities and the suburbs and the zombie horde that dwell
within on their uninspired mindless consumer rush to the slaughter
house... no friends... you were made for something greater... and the
visions of it wait for you there in the thick quiet of nature...
there where the songs of mystic warriors that are your ancestors
still lingers... you just have to abandon your fears and technology
and let go of the things you think you need and wander into that lost
kingdom were the weak dare not go without their smart phones and GPS
and air mattresses.
The quest is nothing more
than simplicity – a noble enough venture for your first outing that
will easily be found siting beside a fire. Throw some sausages and
cheese into a bag with bread and jam or peanut butter, some fruit –
berries, apples, oranges... water... don't forget your hygiene... a
good book to read – something inspiring... a classic perhaps –
“Ivanhoe” or “Idles of the King”... “Lord of the Rings”...
take a journal to right in... a sleeping bag or just a good blanket,
a tent (or not)... matches, compass, first aid kit... the spirit of
adventure and the curiosity of the boy you once were.
Two days... three days...
is all you need to be reborn - the wandering of the mind and spirit
till you find a place to rest... learning how to breathe again and
how to listen to that voice of your true self that you lost when the
world brought you to your knees and forced you to conform and
corralled you with the rest of the heard... the cleansing... the
ritual of fire and smoke – offer up a sacrifice and a prayer to
your God... and your ancestors... the gratitude for your blessings
and your food... the communion – dig your fingers into the soil...
stroke the leaves and branches and petals... place your palm on the
trunk of a tree and listen for it's story... try to recognize the
face staring back at you in the water... hunch down in the grass and
watch the world through the eyes of a beast... a wolf... a lion...
the baptism (if and when it comes), is the moment you realize who and
what you are... were you belong... where you are going... what you
were created for – you won't find those answers doing a google
search... but you will get nearer to it in the wild.
It could be in the
desert, up a mountain, in an endless valley... out at sea, or in the
woods... any where as long as it is far from where crowds gather –
where you will find the voice waiting for those with ears to hear –
the voice of inspiration... motivation... exaltation...
Buddha abandoned his
kingdom in search of the cause of suffering and under the leaves of a
fig tree he heard the voice. Moses went up a mountain where he heard
the voice and later lingered there until he received the law from his
God. Jesus walked out into the waste lands to be tempted by Satan
and he found his strength. Knights of old drifted into the forest to
rest and regain their strength in their solitude... That is where the
myths are born – what will you be when you walk out of the church
of nature... a poet... a knight on a quest for greatness, a priest or
monk or prophet... a warrior god returned from the whispers of the
distant past to conquer and destroy and build a new world?
What indeed shall you be
when you come back to the chaos.
Privateer, Poet, Protector of the Faith - rebel by default, romantic by design, designer by process of elimination, broker by accident - Rustic and Refined - Well Traveled, Well Read and Well Bred - Politically Incorrect - Live my Life Without Regret - Defend the Clan... and to hell with the rest...
All poetry on this site by Victor L. Vogt , unless otherwise stated - all artwork accompanying poetry by Jack Vettriano, unless otherwise stated.
Music of Mystery and Romance
Songs from the Deringer Files Volume One
The Iron Legion
Tradition and Strength - a site for men
Something more like this...
is a glimps into the random thoughts going through my mind at any given moment, expressed through images that help to capture who I am - better than my own words can... so they say - a picture is worth a thousand words...