Reflections by Olivia Robertson

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Remarkable are meaningful coincidences. Take the apotheosis of my mother's salmon-fly, "The Black Maria." She was portrayed - not my mother, but the salmon-fly - as an evil entity worn by the villain in one of my favourite television series, "Murder She Wrote." I watched the salmon-fly's adventures as she made her wicked way through the story until the murderer - murderess - was duly captured by Jessica Fletcher and handed over to the guards.

Then I decided to try out my new way of dissolving the cloud of gloom and doom enveloping us as we approach 2012, and is kind of anyway a part of our lives. How about transmuting this sinister salmon-fly - named after police vans, twirling evil-doers into "detention facilities", to a True Self! Of course!

My mother gained her fame through fishing on the River of Healing, the Slaney - Slainte. I remember mentioning this to Jack Charlton, the football coach, when describing my mother's skill in killing crocodiles and salmon. I'm not good at that. I told him I used the water from our well for healing and psychic development and therefore, to cure salmon disease. So another name of the Great Goddess Morrigan of all Rivers is The Black Maria: the Black Madonna. She is helper for all being brought into prison. I seem to get an enormous amount of letters from people in these facilities. They only need to invoke her for psychic awakening. The Morrigan has a tremendous reputation for powers of every sort.

I then turned to Korea. I received a lovely letter from a devotee of Rose-Isis-Sophia, who heard that I had known W.B. Yeats. Could I enlighten her with his wisdom? I wished to do my best. So I made my mind blank to receive my answer, to Rose-Isis-Sophia.

My mind was brought back to my father, Manning Robertson, who had been my Magician Prospero for about 40 years. Yeats had asked my father, an architect, to design his tombstone, now in Drumcliffe, in the West of Ireland. He did so, choosing lettering from our Clonegal Graveyard.

When Yeats died, he was duly interred under the tombstone designed by my father. My mother told me that she met his widow, Mrs. Yeats, a spiritualist medium, and asked had she liked the tombstone? "Oh yes!" she replied. "And Willie is delighted!"

I was happy that Yeats was active in the next life, but I did not like the message he had carved on the stone. It did not suggest a greater life of kindness for anyone: "Cast a cold eye on life and death. Horseman pass by." He talked like that. I thought: "Typical of a cold intellectual. They get like that when they get older. They trample on small green shoots."

Suddenly, I felt guided to use my new symbolic interpretation of always turning things into a mirror, upside-down. This language relates to the belief that all life is a hologram of a greater Reality - "sermons in stones and good in everything," as Shakespeare put it. How about altering the reader's perspective? When we read, we identify with the obvious "I". In this case, we are - or identified with - the cold-eyed Horseman passing by a tombstone. So we've got to be like that. No. We are watching this Horseman from outside. He is the Rider on the pale horse of Death, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. As we know we belong to eternity, we bid him "pass by." So now with confidence I could write to the Korean admirer of Yeats of the Golden Dawn Order, with a key to unlocking the Da Vinci - Goethe - Yeats code.

My third challenge came at once. I received a heart-rending letter from a Priestess living within what she called "the Pacific Ring of Fire", the volcano ring. I thought of the ring in Wagner's opera and of Tolkien's terrible ring of fate. She wrote the ground was still moving under her feet. She informed me that we were approaching the End of the World and that this was her last time of writing. She had enough food for a few weeks. She ended by praying that my death would be quick and painless, as the dreaded Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse were now approaching.

How can I tackle this fear? All these doomful prophecies - and I had my own share - deal with the physical earth, passing time and changing place. We do suffer, we do die, at the end of disagreeable events very often. But how about changing our focus to the Real World of the soul and spirit, which do not pass away?

Hmm, horses are haughty, aristocratic beasts, honoured by all, especially royals. Their poor relations, donkeys are jeered at, abused, despised and over-burdened. Whoever heard of a lord keeping a whole stable full of donkeys? And yet these asses have been divinely chosen as bearers of spiritual change. I remembered from the Bible that Balaam's Ass was more psychic than his "owner" - it was he who recognised an Angel!

I offer this presentation to add to a Tarot Pack: The Four Donkeys of the Zodiac who represent the Kerubim - believe and wonder!

The first Divine Donkey comes from the Constellation of Taurus. He is the God Set and is ever adorned with two long fine ears. He brought glory to the Upper Kingdom of Egypt for two thousand years. Rameses II, under his aegis, had hundreds of wives and countless offspring. A great Pharaoh, Son of Set, he is known as Rameses the Great. At this dawn of a new aeon this Divine Ass brings Love, and so assures the continuity of the human race. Where Set is, there are offspring.

The second Holy Donkey comes from the Constellation of Leo. It was she who presided over the birth of a child from Heaven, born in a stable. She protected the child, along with a friendly Ox. In these days she comes with thousands of children from the stars who join with humans to bring love, harmony and friendship. This donkey’s gift is Happiness.

The third Sacred Donkey comes from the Constellation of Scorpio. She carried an Avatar on Her back to his initiation of the dying and resurrection of the God, which we must all face in order to be reborn. She comes at this time of change to bring Courage and Compassion.

I like the fourth Mystic Donkey. He emanates from the Constellation of Aquarius. He is a shape-shifter and appears in the form of the body of Saint Francis of Assisi, who acknowledges him as "my body, Brother Ass." He has been sped forth from the Cosmic Hierarchy to spread understanding and love between all creatures. His gift is Peace.

© art by Olivia Robertson

I'll end on a personal note. A donkey I loved is in the Spirit World. She is called Petronella, and is a tiny furry black donkey with a soft white nose. She has the distinguished ears of the God Set, her forbear, and large, kindly eyes.

(Originally published without audio on March 31, 2011: article)