Tuesday, June 19, 2018

In the Forest

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
f*ck it.

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.

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