Reflections by: Olivia Robertson

I wish to share a series of extraordinary happenings, all unexpected, that came to me from the 17th July to the 20th of August, this year. These did not involve high spiritual attainment, but involved the honouring of the forgotten dead, the rejected, the despised, and bringing them to life as our fellows, forgotten parts of our own selves. Time resolves into itself in the coils of a spiral. Like a clock-face with no hands, all our yesterdays are here, awaiting recognition. We may not grow without acknowledging our roots.

On the day of our Festival, the 17th July, I had only a vague idea of what to do. I had no idea why I had chosen the 17th, as a date in August would have been more suitable. It was only some weeks later I learnt that this date in the Mayan calendar is marked Consciousness Convergence, following the earlier Planetary Convergence. The movement from the old to the new world thus was to begin then, gaining in strength before the Galactic Convergence in 2012.

What came to me for our Rite was to recreate the awakening of Osiris by Isis, as at Opet on the 23rd, for our needs. Why not awaken Angus Og, our Gaelic God of Love and Joy?

My intention was for every single participant in our ceremony to have a voice. Each would be asked to explain why they wished to revive the God of Love and Joy! We accept the Opposition, so there was to be an Enforcer of Law and Order, whose role was to blindfold the God, to prevent his receiving or giving any new ideas of any sort! In all my adventures I noticed that the chosen place used was a part of the experience. Unexpectedly we rededicated our old Abbey ruin as Priory of the Noble Order of Tara; and a Grand Knight Commander undertook the role of Angus. What really happened was that the descent of the God brought by the Goddess Tara was experienced by the Knight, and enjoyed by those present. They had voiced their genuine need for Him, including the end of Institutional abuse of children. The God was needed. His Presence was felt.

I was much struck by all this, but thought it was over. Through Tara and Angus we had brought hope and help to so many from spirit world, who had died in Ireland unwanted, rejected by society. The Goddesses and Gods of their ancestors were alive. Angus had been awakened by a Priestess representing the Goddess Tara of the Tuatha De Danaan, Star of all sacred mounds and hills.

But a more amazing happening began in London, when, on the morning of 22nd July, my hostess Caroline said: “It’s suddenly happened! We’re going to the Boot and Flogger Pub in the East End to visit the Crossbones Cemetery.” She explained that the Diocese of Southwark has within it the foundations of a great Isis Temple, on the banks of the Isis River – now called the Thames.

On our journey by underground to the East End, with her husband Michael, she explained further. “A brilliant poet and actor, John Constable, has saved the graveyard from destruction by the railway. The cemetery was used for the bodies of “Winchester Geese” – prostitutes, paupers, unbaptized babies and suicides - who were dumped there in unconsecrated ground. It was only closed down in 1853. John is holding a ceremony honouring Isis Magdalene, at Opet – we are to bring ribbons to tie on the Great Iron Gates”. To her consternation – she suddenly realised we had come a day too early! But 22nd July was Mary Magdalene’s feast day, so we would do our own Rite then.

To enter the territory of Shakespeare – to pass Little Dorrit Cottages and Quilp Road was to enter Dickens’ London. The Gates themselves – elaborate ironwork – had pathetic ribbons and other items, including a doll, tied to them. They were marked “Mary Jones, infant 3 months” – “John Billings – waterman” and so forth. For a child who died upbaptized, or other people, who like prostitutes had been rejected by the church – here was their resting place, a rubbish pit!

I felt enthusiastic on their behalf. I conducted a ceremony as Priestess of Isis, re-consecrating the ground In Her Name – the Divine Isis, Magdalene, Mother Mary – what Name you choose. I shook the sistrum….. Unexpectedly, John Constable passed by and joined us. Fortunately Caroline’s camera just held out with a waning battery. This would be for the computer Web. But I knew that the inner spiritual Web was alive, with so many spirits wishing to join us! Awaken yourself and you help others to awaken.

We continued the process we had begun in Caroline’s Temple Garden with the Wakening of Merlin by the Goddess Elen, as he promised to restore forests. But the strangest awakening took place in Richmond, on the following Sunday, when my niece Cressida and her husband Bob, helped to launch the model Ship of Isis upstream in the Thames (Isis). In full mummers’ guise they honoured all those who had been transported across the sea to Australia. To interested bystanders they sang a folk song of an emigrant who sang that he would miss his country less than his comrades and his beloved sweetheart Polly.

Standing with my niece near a Long Barrow in Winchcombe, Gloucestershire, we had a ceremony on the 26th in which we apologised to annoyed former Neolithic spirit residents, who strongly objected to an archaeologist, who had taken away bits of their home and their bones. We apologised and they appeared to wish to join our adventure. They insisted we crouch in one of their burial chambers along with its former residents. It was a friendly, cosy gathering.

At the Goddess Conference in Glastonbury, in a hall with a few hundred people, I broke the dreadful news! The God of Love Himself had been caught up in his own computer…He had been micro-chipped. Our Irish Priest, Stephen gave a harrowing account of his suffering as a computer head. But rescue was at hand – Julie as Venus brought Him to life and we all processed round the hall to the drumbeats of our chant: “Love is the Heartbeat of the Universe!”

The culminating happening for FOI members was at our gathering on the 2nd of August, to Awaken the Archangel Michael, sent to a death sleep by “The Dogmatic Enforcer of structured Religion.” A strange transformation took place. As our priest awakened as the reborn Archangel, he changed dramatically. He gave an Oracle. Michael explained that we should not kill. He had never killed any dragons. His Sword of Life was a beam of Divine Energy, awakening the Dragon of the Earth Herself, Lilith.

I had thought that this string of happenings had ended on my return to Ireland. But on the 20th of August, the same pattern followed – again totally unexpectedly. I had chosen the date – the 20th of August – for some of our members to visit a group of Druids – requesting a ceremony in honour of the Goddess Dana, Mother of All, and Lugh, Gaelic God of Light. I shall not tell where, as the land contains a vortex. There were castle and church ruins, and a medieval graveyard. I had surely been guided to invoke Dana, for She came, amidst birdsong and the scent of wild flowers. When She came to me in 1952 She brought a pure happiness that is unlike any other. Our Hostess, a Druid, felt this happiness to be above all others in her life. But those who suffer were not forgotten. For Dana awakened Her divine Son Lugh with His Light. One of our members of the Druid Clan of Dana has a gift for soul rescue work. At the end of our visit she became aware of all those souls entrapped in the past of those towering, formidable ruins. She was able to lead them into Divine Light. So be it with us all.

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