Tara - I. Portal of Aries: Introduction & Rites

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I. Portal of Aries

Introduction: Transparent Walls

Rite 1. The Magician

Rite 2. The Enchantress

Fellowship of Isis Liturgy

Olivia Robertson

Tara of the Oracles

The Alchemical Twins Face the Fates

The Octagonal Temple of Alchemy

I. Portal of Aries: Introduction to Rituals One and Two

Transparent Walls

At one of our Lyceums I was told that a young girl there was an “Indigo”… spiritually different from most of her companions. One morning she walked into my room and said she wanted to talk.

“What about?”

“I see things differently from other people …”

“You mean you have an original point of view?”

“No - no. I see streams of coloured energy around everything – people, objects - all that is.”

I made a point of reassuring her that many throughout the ages have had unusual faculties. These people were sometimes deified - often burnt at the stake or put in monasteries. Nowadays some are slowly poisoned by medication prescribed by well-meaning experts who believe that all visions are hallucinations. So even despite side effects of drugs - at least they think that sufferers may decline in health - but die sane!

I remember during the war I used to go round art galleries and heard the lamentations of the uniformed attendants who missed the works of art hidden for safety. Why? They would give remarkable reasons. They explained that - seen from a particular spot on the floor - the pictures became alive! At Hampton Court Palace one enthusiastic attendant made me stand at an uncomfortable angle, head strained backwards, to enjoy the spectacle of a Greek God driving his chariot across the ceiling. But what the attendant admired was a chariot with turning wheels driven across the sky by galloping horses, manes flying. To him it was living!

I never forgot this. And one happy night it happened to me. In London I was dutifully gazing at Bonnard seascapes. I had won a University scholarship in European Art - so I thought I knew about art appreciation. I saw with my mind. I had always disagreed with those who said that in the Spirit World artists could create more wonderfully. How could they show in “impasto” - rough lumps of paint - the tactile solidity of matter?

That night it happened. I was in the etheric realm and saw the Bonnard seascapes not as paintings alone, but as an extraordinary fusion of spirit and matter. There were the sensuous brush-strokes - but the sea was actually moving in waves! Trees, beach, earth, were livid with life - I could have walked into the painting. I remember a Chinese artist who, when he had completed his landscape, invited his friends to say goodbye. They watched him walk into the landscape getting smaller and smaller - until he vanished. Now I knew that it is possible for us to experience the two spheres of spirit and matter at the same time.

I did discover that well educated people had none of this faculty. But so-called uneducated folk had this adorable gift. Does education of the mind inhibit the psyche? An amazing example occurred at Stonehenge some years ago. I was admiring the mighty dolmens, wishing the ordinary tourists were not there … A very ordinary tourist, a nice little woman, seemed fascinated by the stones. She said to me: “The pictures are so nice!”

“Pictures? What pictures?”

She pointed to the stones. “They are so real and bright!”

The bus driver of a group joined us. He too commended the paintings on the stones. I was forced to confess that I was short-sighted - I couldn’t see them …

“Are they like Egyptian pictures,” I asked.

“Oh no,” said the woman. “They look very real …The people are wearing such nice coloured clothes.” The bus-driver inspected the pictures on the dolmens more closely, and agreed. They were more real like people than Egyptian pictures. “Very nice and real looking.” I thought of the white horses and male figures on the hills nearby - certainly the Long Man of Wilmington was extremely real.

I did have one treasured glimpse of what Ancient Egyptian Temples really did look like. I had thought that the painted cathedrals of Europe and temples of Egypt and Greece must have looked rather garish when they were decorated - they were better as ruins! Not so. In vision I saw a great pillar in Karnak, absolutely clearly. The pillars were painted in exactly the same colour as the local stone in the sun’s glow. On this ochre background the hieroglyphs were exquisitely decorated in brilliant jewel-like colours. The walls looked alive with scenes from another sphere.

Sculptures? They used to be coloured too, and I was taught one should not paint marble or any stone. It was bad art. Greek statues were best chalky white. Ah - but I had a vision of an actual Greek man painted in his death as a God. He had been elevated to Godhead by the Emperor Hadrian. He was Antinuous, and I had expressed curiosity as to the appearance of this man regarded as a perfect God image. He himself showed me this vision. His body was lying flat in a fine woollen white toga draped across the shoulders. His face was not made-up as we do with greasy colours. His face was painted like a picture. His features were classical, save for high cheek-bones. But what shocked me was his expression of utter bitterness and despair. He had committed suicide by drowning.

He wished me to know that he was a lover of peace and goodwill, against wars, and admired Quakers. He said he liked the simplicity of our ritual, of our ceremonies. So the walls of our prison-house of the senses are beginning to dissolve. Those we thought dead - live! The beauties of the ancient world reveal themselves. As we centre ourselves in divine reality we may explore the cosmos, and yet never lose our own originality, while we honour that of others.

Note: Pierre Bonnard (1867 - 1947) was a member of the famous Les Nabis group of French artists that was active in the late 19th and the earlier part of the 20th century. The art produced by members of this group is known for a strong emphasis on both symbolic and spiritual content. Bonnard in particular is known for his lively use of colour. He did not paint from life but from photographs he took of his subject, making handwritten notes of the colours at the time he took the photograph.

Tara of the Oracles

The Alchemical Twins Face the Fates

Fellowship of Isis Liturgy by Olivia Robertson

I. Portal of Aries

The Magician

Ritual No. 1

Even the Gods Obey the Fates

The Octagonal Temple of Alchemy

Priest Alchemist: (To Twin Apprentices Aiden and Elaine) To work with one’s own Fate rather than defy it, you need to honour the Three Arbiters of Destiny, Sekhmet, Bast and Ra, The Constellations of Leo and Virgo, “The Anthrosphinx.” These Deities honour the Goddess Taur, Who holds the Tablets of Fate, inscribed in hieroglyphs on stone. These are known as the Torah and the meaning is concealed within the Tarot of the Egyptians, the lost “Book of Thoth.” Let us invoke the Goddess Taur.

Priestess Alchemist: (raises wand) I invoke Thee, Holy Goddess Taur, Arbiter of the Fates of stars and every creature. Guide us on our spiritual path that we may attain the stars.

ORACLE OF THE GODDESS TAUR

Your Fate is written in the palms of your hands, the humble soles of your feet, and locked within each cell of your physical bodies! Your bodies themselves host solar systems of atoms, which in their turn contain inner constellations as yet unknown to the learned, but understood by the wise.

You cannot transcend your Fate into some glorious divinity by ignoring, even repressing the innate order written into each atom of your bodies. For your bodies themselves are a fractal of your etheric bodies, more solid, more real than the biological vehicles you set such store by. And these bodies are but an expression of greater luminous beings, which extend through the spirals of space: infinite, eternal, yet original in every minute particular.

Divine Law gives you freedom of choice. When you do evil it is like stroking a cat’s fur the wrong way to annoy her! Evil is transient, stupid, a shadow. Good is written into the Philosopher’s Stone of Destiny. Find this, and you shall find your own uncreated Divine Being awaiting your delighted discovery! Endure. We wish you success.

Priest Alchemist: We give thanks to the Goddess Taur.

Priestess Alchemist: (to Aiden) Aiden, we know the longing in your heart to fulfil your destiny. Are you willing to face the Ordeal of the Sphinx of Destiny - knowing that King Oedipus failed, and so was blinded by too much spiritual Light?

Aiden: It is the wish of my mind and heart.

Priest Alchemist: So be it. (shows tarot card from altar) Study this card from the Marseilles Tarot, and tell us what you see.

Aiden: The card shows “Le Bateleur,” the Conjurer. He is wearing four colours, red, blue, yellow and green. His hat is formed in the symbol of balance, a horizontal figure of eight. On a table are 10 objects, and he holds a wand and coin, making 12. He is manipulating the 4 elements, earth, air, fire and water, in order to gain control over their counterparts in the inner planes.

Priest Alchemist: You have begun your quest. You now need to enter trance in order to face the Riddle of the Sphinx. We shall accompany you on your journey, but not help you.

Trance Journey

Aiden: I feel relieved at facing the Temple of the Zodiac, as I know the way. I climb up the hill and enter. I pay respect before the Eternal Flame in the centre *** And I easily find the Portal of Aries, with the Emblem of the victorious Lamb. Was this there before? He - or she - is holding a flag with a curious emblem on it - a Right Hand marked with a spiral. I pass through the doorway.

At once I am nearly overthrown by a mighty wind. I am in a desert and sand stings my eyes. At first I can see nothing. Then I see towering above me the Egyptian Sphinx. It looks far larger than I imagined. What is curious is that his or her face keeps shifting. Sometimes it has a nose - then no nose. There is a braided beard - then none. And as I watch, it becomes a woman with high rising wings - now returns to its ruined form.

I hear a woman’s voice behind me. She is veiled against sand and wind and wears a lion skin. Or is she part lion?

Her voice is deep and melodious. “I am Maunet, daughter of Sekhmet. I am here to guide you. What is your intention?”

“I would solve the Mystery of the Sphinx – if there is one.”

“Why?”

“I wish to obtain eternal life and when I have it, to help others to reach the goal.”

“Answer this simple riddle.”

“I am prepared.”

“What is it that goes on all fours at first, then on two legs, and ends on three? The given answer is Man. Everyone knows that. But do they understand it?”

“I can make a guess. Maybe this is evolution. Man starts as an animal, attains being human – I don’t know about the three legs – I suppose a wand or sceptre?”

“This answer is not satisfactory.”

“What can I do?”

“You do nothing - I will do something.” ***

To my terror a mighty shaft opens before my feet, hidden between the Sphinx’s mighty paws. I find myself sinking down a shaft into a complex of underground passages with hieroglyphs carved in stone. I try to read them but cannot. I walk down endless passages – until I reach a mighty burial chamber in which I find a sarcophagus.

The sarcophagus is elaborately decorated with pictures of a Pharaoh protected by Anubis and other Deities. At the four corners are statues of Isis, Nepthys, Selket and Neith. I recognise these from the Tutankhamun exhibition in Egypt. On the walls are pictures, not of King Tut, but of some very warlike king defeating various enemies - holding them by the hair - and galloping over the walls in a war chariot. There is a Queen - but she is depicted as high as the Pharaoh’s knees in a Hunting Chariot. I begin to dislike this man very much. We have nothing in common. Why have a mummy of his earthly body anyway? This is not the spiritual experience I was hoping for.

Suddenly I hear a plaintive ‘miaou!’ I look down and see a tiny kitten scraping desperately on the wall. I remember cats used to be sacrificed to the Cat Goddess Bast, their mummies being given to clients looking for good luck. Indignantly I pick up the cat to rescue her.

Everything goes black as I hold the wriggling body close to my own. To my horror I am cataleptic – caught in a coffin. I am imprisoned in a mummy case, I am ugly, bony, my teeth bared. I am a corpse with rotting flesh. Suddenly golden light from a Winged Disc shines upon me. The cat is alive. I hear a soft voice coming from her:

“Osiris, awaken! You have solved the Riddle of the Sphinx! It is yourself!”

End of Trance

As Aiden slowly returns from trance, still very upset by his ordeal, the Companions agree he has earned his degree. Reports are shared. Thanks are given to the Deities.

End of Rite

Sources: “The Gods of the Egyptians,” (Vol. 1 - 2), Sir E. A. Wallis Budge, Dover Publications Inc., New York, 1969, (a reprint of the Methuen & Co., London, 1904 and Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co. Ltd., London, 1912 editions) several reprints from Dover available. “Egyptian Mythology,” Veronica Ions, Paul Hamlyn, London, 1965. “All Colour Book of Egyptian Mythology,” Richard Patrick, Octopus Books, London, 1972. “The Goddesses of India, Tibet, China and Japan,” Lawrence Durdin-Robertson, illustrated by Anna Durdin-Robertson, Cesara Publications, Clonegal Castle, 1976. “Apollodorus: The Library,” (Vols. I and II) Apollodorus, translated by James George Frazer, William Heinemann Ltd., London and Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1954.

Tarot of Marseilles (French: Ancien Tarot de Marseille), earliest known variants dating possibly to fifteenth and no later than seventeenth century. A standard Marseille Tarot deck first issued by B. P. Grimaud, 1930, Paris, France, is the version used for these rites.

Tara of the Oracles

The Alchemical Twins Face the Fates

Fellowship of Isis Liturgy by Olivia Robertson

I. Portal of Aries

The Enchantress

Ritual No. 2

A Hard Choice Leads to Victory

The Octagonal Temple of Alchemy

Priestess Alchemist: (To Twin Apprentices Aiden and Elaine) To face choice that spins the web of our Fate, we need to invoke the Goddess Tara Who made such a choice.

Priest Alchemist: (raises staff before veiled priestess in trance) I invoke Thee, Tara Star of the Mountain, Light of Truth that shines upon our earth.

ORACLE OF THE GODDESS TARA

Truth is all powerful through the Cosmos. Truth neither diminishes nor increases. It is the constant flame within each being, manifesting cosmic law.

Love is present everywhere, and warms the heart of each creature. It is the life-bringing seed within the heart of the lotus, and no creature great or small, receives love in the same way. And this brings the joy of the Arts to glory in the originality of us all, Deities, humans, stars, planets, trees and flowers.

In order to obtain individuality, some there are who incarnate in material planets, and so obtain the rich store of experiences that are obtained in no other way. Others choose the path of perfection, and send rays of goodness to help evolving beings, themselves remaining in eternal bliss.

This is the choice. Either the pilgrim soul chooses to attain Deity through the path of Truth, and so shine brightly as a star. Others, inclined to the way of love, incarnate in myriad forms.

Both ways have success or disaster. Those who attain Truth may become arrogant, with icy hearts. Others, enjoying Love - dissipate themselves into insanity, having lost their Home.

My friends, follow the adorable path of the Arts, treading your way in balance! You will not convert ardent devotees of Truth or Love - but you will provide them with laughter and tears and natural happiness. You find both Star and Mountain!

Priest Alchemist: We give thanks for this Oracle of the Goddess Tara.

Priestess Alchemist: (to Elaine) Elaine, you blame yourself for playing with different ways, limited to none. Yours is the path of the Arts, though you always strive to be an active rescue worker. Look at this card, No 1. "Le Bateleur". What do you see?

Elaine: (examines card) I see the God Siva Who controls the five elements, in His sacred dance - Preservation, Creation and Destruction. The card in the Indian Tarot would be round. The meaning is the balancing of Yin and Yang. The five elements are the four elementary colours, and white of the Conjuror's hair - Ether ... Siva to Conjuror - in the West the Deities are minimized into Fortune-Tellers and Conjurors! Not so in the East.

Priestess Alchemist: A clever reading, possibly aimed to exceed that of Aiden's. It has. Now you need to make good your elucidation and enter trance, to face the reality of what your mind tells you. Are you willing?

Elaine: I know the severity imposed by our Teachers. Still, I accept.

Priestess Alchemist: So be it. We shall be with you but not help you.

Trance Journey

Elaine: I find myself climbing up the hill of the Temple of the Zodiac and think of Mount Meru of India, and Tara of Ireland. Above the Temple on the Hill shines the brilliant Star which I think of as Sirius. I enter the Temple and pay my respects before the Central Flame.

I don't recognise Aiden's lamb over the Aries Portal. Gold light and shade make it look to me like a tiger cub! I need to watch out. In haste I push my way through red curtains, fearful of hesitation. ***

I face a forum of the Hindu Deities. Before them is a fire with three leaping flames. I wonder should I prostrate but a gesture from Kali bids me stand. Suddenly to my surprise a silent procession of Buddhist monks and nuns take their places in the lotus position on a dais to the right. I have never managed the lotus position - though I have tried.

Am I in the future, as usual? No, this is more powerful. I am in the etheric realm which controls our physical plane. The atmosphere is business-like, and I become aware of the clear minds of the Buddhists which look into my very self. I draw a deep breath. I feel protected by the humorous affection of Kali and Durga, fiery Hindu Goddesses.

A very tall imposing monk, with penetrating blue eyes addresses me. He looks like a University Professor. "Elaine," he says, "It is the will of this assembly to bring into harmony the religion of Hinduism and the philosophy of Buddhism, at present impossible on earth. One practice we Buddhists and our brethren share is story-telling - Jakarta stories and Hindu myths. We have arranged just such a story for you. But our myths in this realm are real, and affect the material world. Are you willing to act the part of She you call Tara?"

"I agree. I am honoured."

Kali laughs and says: "Don't be so sure!" She waves her arm with her jingling bracelets *** To my alarm I find myself in a heavy, soaking jungle.

Snakes slither into the undergrowth as I walk towards a small shrine, its pillars entwined with creeping plants. The air is buzzing with insects. Yes, this is only too real. Their stings hurt. My skin is covered with poisoned lumps and I shield my eyes from them. I have always honoured snakes - but don't like a very lurid coloured one that seems interested in my ankles. Just as I reach the weed choked steps of the shrine - I feel heavy breathing ... I am facing the terrible, incredibly beautiful face of a tiger, golden, black and white. I invoke Durga.

I hear Durga's voice from far away. "He would tear you to pieces but he knows you are my friend." The tiger lowers his mighty head and sniffs my bare feet. I am safe.

I mount the steps and enter the shrine. There seated in the lotus position - is the aquiline-nosed monk like a Professor! He reminds me of my Uncle Jaspar, an expert on oriental studies in Oxford. He beckons me to sit down. I curl up uncomfortably on the floor.

He does not speak - but to my astonishment he begins to shape-shift. He has the slanting grey eyes of a Deva, inhuman, compelling. His mouth is wide and curved. He no longer has a shaved head. Pale untidy hair hangs around his head in straight locks. He wears casually some sort of pale woollen tunic. I know he is the God Apollo. Then there is a lightning flash, and he now is standing in dazzling white life - He is the God Siva.

He speaks to me and I can understand his words in English. "Elaine. I represent that Truth which you have loyally honoured, even if creating anger in others. It is now time to enjoy the love within your heart which you conceal. You face a choice.

"Your task is to reconcile the traditions of Hinduism with Buddhism. You follow a Goddess of Truth Who dwells eternally above the sacred Mountain of every faith as a Star, constant, pure and unattainable. You now face the need to accept your human incarnation, so that justice and compassion may prevail on earth."

"With my own will, I agree."

"You are asked to give up something you hold very dear, to comply with Buddhist tradition."

"I will surrender what I hold most dear."

"Then hear what it is, before you agree! In order to become Bodhisattva, One who descends into earthy incarnation to save others - you need to abandon your gender and become a man. This is the rule."

I am furious. I cry out: "Never!"

Siva has become the monk again and He is smiling. "Oh Elaine, you have reacted exactly as Tara did - the only Goddess who refused to become a man, giving up her sex, in order to be Bodhisattva! Yet she became Bodhisattva. Cosmic Law needs exceptions, or there would be no spiritual progress. You will remain on the side-lines, both Devi and human. We need dissidents - artists - writers - actors. You have fulfilled your role as Tara."

With a sudden rush I am precipitated from the shrine through the jungle - through the Assembly - I am back here!

End of Trance

As Aiden slowly returns from trance, still very upset by his ordeal, the Companions agree he has earned his degree. Reports are shared. Thanks are given to the Deities.

End of Rite

Sources: “Indian Mythology,” Veronica Ions, Paul Hamlyn, London, 1967. “Images of Devi in Pahari Paintings,“ Chhote Bharany, foreword by C. Sivaramamurti, Clarion Books, New Delhi, 1984. “Chinese Mythology,” (Library of the World’s Myths and Legends series) Anthony Christie, Paul Hamlyn Publishing Group, Ltd., London, 1968. “The Civilization of China, 1000 B.C. - A. D. 1910,” Herbert A. Giles, Thornton Butterworth Ltd., London, 1933. “Monkey: A Folk Novel of China,” Wu Ch’eng-en, translated by Arthur Waley, George Allen & Unwin, Ltd., London, 1942, and Penguin Classics, New York, 1963, reprints available.

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