Tara - II. Portal of Taurus: Introduction & Rites

On This Page:

II. Portal of Taurus

Introduction: Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

Rite 1. Through Her Veil

Rite 2. Tell Me Fair and Tell Me True

Fellowship of Isis Liturgy

Olivia Robertson

Tara of the Oracles

The Alchemical Twins Face the Fates

The Octagonal Temple of Alchemy

II. Portal of Taurus: Introduction to Rituals One and Two

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

In orthodox churches we were not encouraged to have roses or mirrors. Rose-petals when they fall bring sweetness to all - lilies smell horrible when they are old - but they kept themselves to themselves - they die on the stem - on the altar. Roses meant Romance: Lilies - Virtue. Mirrors show one - oneself. This might bring vanity. But stained glass was in order - at least in “high-church” circles.

When my brother and I created a Temple of Isis we chose another way. Our Temples was a labyrinth, and at each stage - through mirrors or indoor windows - you could see where you had been and where you were going. I do remember the astonishment of one of our members when he thought he was alone, looking in a mirror - and then the reflected people began to move! This was an indoor window. There is no encouragement to secrecy in our Temple. Even our outdoor windows were triple - on each side were mirrors that showed mobius strips of endless reflection. One child put a coin in front of a reflection hoping it would proliferate. This was mirror magic!

Recently I became enthusiastic about painting on mirrors - or putting painted cloths over them, which could be lifted. Why did I do this? Possibly this sprang from my two experiences of the Goddess of all mirrors - the Moon Goddess. We may never see Her face. She turns away.

My first lunar experience was in vision at night, on the 18th of October, 1977. I had been to Greece and Crete a year or so ago. I found myself at the end of a temple facing an altar. Behind the altar was a pale veil that loosely covered the whole background. Upon the altar was a silver stag’s head with eye closed, facing left. I found myself holding up my right arm and saying: “I salute the Altar.” The stag opened his eye, which was dark and looked at me. It reminded me of the haunting black eyes I have seen on Greek Icons in Greece. From behind the veil appeared pale women’s arms gently waving. I advanced up the aisle when the stag-eye closed, and stopped. I help up my arm and repeated the words, “I salute the Altar.” The stag opened his eye and looked at me. Then he closed it. Curiously, I felt his other eye hidden from me was golden. The arms once more appeared through the veil, beckoning me.

Then I heard a voice saying clearly: “If you can bear it, do this for the third time.” So I approached the altar, lifted my arm and spoke. “I salute the Altar.” The stag’s eye opened and looked at me. It closed and the arms waved to me. With this a woman’s voice spoke clearly: “What is your Intention?”

I felt that I was the first of many who were following me and this was a very ancient Mystery. I answered: “To reconcile the Religion of Egypt with the Tradition of Avalon.”

The intention was accepted, and I was directed to leave by the Right. I felt others were behind me.

My next experience was not only in vision, because it affected my physical body. This was on the night of the full moon, on the 9th March 1982. I found myself in vision lying flat on a couch next to a friend, an occultist. Before us was a very tall woman. (I once saw Dana and She also gave the appearance of having a different proportion to us humans - much taller and beautifully proportioned.) I could not see Her face, which she turned from us. I associated the colours of her filmy gown with the many colours of the moon - silvery with a small touch of orange.

She stopped and picked up a bottle containing saffron colored oil with a sphere as stopper. She bent and anointed my friend’s forehead with this, thus forming a large circle. I was disappointed when She turned away, replacing the bottle. But I thought: “Oh well, Vivian has been at this much longer than me!” But then the Goddess picked up another bottle, and I thought it contained a violet-coloured oil. She took out the stopper and bent over me. She made a full circle of the oil on my forehead. But still I could not see Her face.

Now comes the sudden switch, when vision impacts on one’s waking mind and body. I was fully conscious of the fragrance from the oil which was both powerful and exquisitely beautiful. I lay awake for about ten minutes - then I got out of bed and went downstairs. It was ten to twelve. From the castle balcony, looking over the Yew Walk to the southeast we can see the full moon. There was the full moon, and all this time I was experiencing the onrush of electric light power flow through me, first, in my room, down the left side of my brain. When I entered the balcony, the power reached my shoulder blades. Finally it was like a white shining shower from a fountain, as it flowed through my whole body.

Romantics search for The Immortal Beloved in the Mirrored Realm of Vision. I used the concept in our “Isis Wedding Rite.”

Maiden: “Some adore the Beloved in many lovely forms. Others honour the Many in one Loved Face.”

Bard: “To find the Other you need to look within. Gaze deeply in a well; and you will find your Twin.”

Wise-Woman: “Look around you and you will find the Other! Gaze in a mirror: You will see your Brother.”

Tara of the Oracles

The Alchemical Twins Face the Fates

Fellowship of Isis Liturgy by Olivia Robertson

II. Portal of Taurus

Through Her Veil

Ritual No. 1

The Immortal Beloved is Ever Veiled

The Octagonal Temple of Alchemy

Priestess Alchemist: (To Twin Apprentices, Aiden and Elaine) Deity divides itself into Two that it may enjoy itself! The inner secret of every heart is to find its missing Deity, all compelling but concealed. Let us invoke the Goddess Hathor, The Starry Cow, crowned with sun and moon, bestower of love and joy.

Priest Alchemist: (Raises Wand) I invoke Thee, Hathor, Star of our longing; lost One of our Souls. Without Thee life is dull, worthless, an arid waste-land.

ORACLE OF THE GODDESS HATHOR

To draw forth my help, place both your hands over your hearts and say: “My Heart My Mother.” You will feel my warm love within your heart. But you long to leave your mother, to find your heart’s desire. Lift up your right arm and say : “My Heart My Lover,” but you need more than one, you need the All. So lift up both your arms in a V and say: “My Heart of My Becoming.” So you embrace the cosmos which is My Body, for love is the flame of life within all that is.

Words alone will not bring you love. It is deeds, even the smallest act of kindness. As you rise to the heights of your Spirit, do not lose your way, as so many do, by seeing all below you as of little worth – small, ignorant. I am in all. To despise even one person, one creature, is to despise Me. I am in the stars, but I am also in the clod of earth beneath your feet. Give love and you will receive it. I give My Blessing!

Priest Alchemist: We give thanks to the Goddess Hathor. Let us perform this, Her ancient magic, which is still alive now.

The Company Perform The Hathor Magic

Priestess Alchemist: (To Aiden) We have joined you in your many adventures seeking to find your elusive Feminine Divinity! Have you lost heart?

Aiden: Every time I have fallen in love in vain, whether with a vampire or a demon, I have gained. At least my love was true. I will undertake the quest.

Priestess Alchemist: (Shows Him Tarot Card From Altar) Tell me what you see in this card.

Aiden: I see a podgy woman with a double chin, and lines under her eyes. She is dressed up as a Pope. This is “La Papesse.” Personally I am more attracted to the Waite pack “High Priestess.” This woman wears the triple Papal crown, and has the crossed Osiris X of balance on her breast. She has an open book. I begin to respect her more than the glamorous High Priestess. May be she really does know something – a Wise Woman? I think I would believe her Tarot Reading.

Priest Alchemist: I see you wish now to be accurate rather than romantic. You are determined not to be deceived again! As you enter trance we shall accompany you, but not help you.

Trance Journey

Aiden: I mount the Hill of the Temple of the Zodiac with firm step. I feel sure of myself now, having learnt from experience. I enter and find the Portal of Taurus. Ah! I see it embodies what I now understand. On the left is a stained-glass window of a woman of Pre-Raphaelite beauty, in trailing saffron robes, crowned with roses. I wonder is she real – some sort of doorway? I thought she smiled at me. I am on guard. On the other side of the veiled doorway is a stained-glass portrait of a very different woman. She is middle-aged with a lined face and grey hair. She is bending over a scroll which she is ornamenting with drawings. I get a shock – I had the thought that she was drawing me *** To escape these two pictures with eyes that look sideways at me, I push through the gateway ***

Oh, what a relief! I find myself in an Ancient Egyptian Temple, with a concourse of priests with shaven-heads, wearing leopard skins. My leopard skin is scratchy. They greet me courteously. They conduct me to a low table on which are sheets of papyrus. There are pots of colours and paint-brushes. An old priest with a kindly face addresses me.

“My son,” he says, “You have now reached the stage when you may learn the skill of magical painting. Know that when the Initiates painted Deities, these Deities live! They use our divinely inspired works of art to commune with us. So we receive untold bliss and inner wisdom. This is why the ignorant fear and destroy our work, for they fear the eyes of the Goddesses and Gods. But though costly jewellery and chests of gold are stolen, our work lives on, for we paint for the Houses of Eternity.”

A young priest addresses me. “Our secret is that we shut our eyes that we may see better! The Deity we invoke guides our hand. We do not strive for exact portrayal, or new ways, for the old tradition is easiest for direct inspiration.“

I pick up a brush. I know Elaine is the artist, but perhaps my very inexperience may help. I know the value of children’s drawings. So I shut my eyesWhat wonder! I am in a lush meadow with every sort of wild flower. The scent in this warm weather is overpowering. I find myself running and running, with joy, as I did when a boy.

Finally I reach a mighty river and I plunge in and swim. I spend what seems like days and nights here, the nights rich with many-coloured stars. I recognise Aldebaran with its ruddy glow, and the Hyades and the Pleiades. From the Stars I see a beautiful woman dancing, laughing and singing. Are these Egyptians? Some are black and some fair and many brown *** I begin to feel afraid. The women draw near and make a circle around me. At first I hope they are friendly – but somehow they are now menacing. At a distance I thought they were beautiful. But now I see that some are obese, others aged, many ugly, and a few with spiteful and cruel expressions. These come up to me and scratch my arms. I begin to feel my vitality draining from me to them. They are draining my life away in order to materialise.

Fearful of death I call upon the Goddess Hathor! She does not come. But a school-mistress woman with a plain face and stringy hair suddenly comes sharply to my rescue. I don’t like her tone, nor her harsh words. “You are a fool!” She says. “You are an artist deceived by the very forms you create. Look at me with the Eye of Truth!“

I look at her and every face I have ever loved or hated or despised pass like a mirage through her face. “See through the painted veil,” She says, “and you will find Me!”I reach for the veil over her face – instead I find myself slumped over a table by a badly drawn figure of a woman with cows’ horns on papyrus. “Not bad for a first attempt,” says the old priest.I find myself back in the Temple of the Zodiac – but now the two women beside the Portal of Taurus have changed places. Are they laughing at me?

“No,” says the young girl – or is it the old one? “We never laugh at artists.”

I am back with you all. I think I may take up painting.

End of Trance

Aiden returns from trance. Thanks are given and reports shared. Aiden’s degree is postponed until he comes up with a painting.

End of Rite

Sources: “The Dawn of Civilization, Egypt and Chaldea,” Professor G. Maspero, Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, London, 1884. “The Book of the Dead: An English Translation of The Chapters, Hymns, etc. of the Theban Rescension of the Coming Forth by Day,” Sir E. A. Wallis Budge, Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., London, 1923. “The Goddesses of Syria, Chaldea and Egypt,” Durdin-Robertson, Desara Publications, Clonegal Castle, 1975. The Marseilles Tarot is used in all rites, originally produced in 1748, published by B.P. Grimaud. Paris,1930.

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

II. Portal of Taurus

Tell Me Fair and Tell Me True

Ritual No. 2

Dreams are Reflections of the Real

The Octagonal Temple of Alchemy

Priest Alchemist: (To Twin Apprentices, Aiden and Elaine) To distinguish between true love and false, we need the Eye of Truth. So we invoke the Goddess Morrigan, known as Morgana in France and Morgan in Wales.

Priestess Alchemist: (Raises Wand Before Veiled Priestess in Trance) I invoke Thee, Morrigan the Great Enchantress, that we may share with you Your Divine Gifts of divination.

ORACLE OF THE GODDESS MORRIGAN

Know that all that is Divine is real, and all else is the cast-off snakeskin that once served to protect us, but is finally discarded, as you discard your physical bodies. I come to you as a delightful virgin at a ford. The heroes desire me – yet I wash their clothes of blood – for I am their death. Others find me in embrace with my consort, the Dagda Mor, as we shine in glory across the river of life. Yet greatness fades as kingdoms rise and fall. Finally you fear me as the Macha, the Crow. I appear with what you dread in old age. Yet as the Crone I bring you renewed life.

All that you see around you is a reflection of a greater reality. That which is worthwhile belongs to eternity, hence it is not subject to time. I am the clock with no hands, the sundial that is at night. With me are the boundless territories of space. There is only one way to overcome your fear of me. Know me in yourself!

Priest Alchemist: We give thanks to the Goddess Morrigan.

Priestess Alchemist: (To Elaine) Elaine, You have a longing for Elysium, Tir na Nog, the many-coloured land. Yet you fear to neglect your work on this earth. Are you willing to face the Morrigan of the two worlds of life and death?

Elaine: We all die. I prefer to face it now rather than let it happen through old age and some illness. I accept the challenge.

Priestess Alchemist: (Gives Elaine Card from Altar) What do you see in this card?

Elaine: “La Lune,” No. XVIII displays duality. Two dogs howling in opposition. In the sky is the waxing moon, embracing the dying moon. Three drops of rain fall – in colours of fire, earth and air. Below is a deep blue pool containing the crab of Cancer.

Priestess Alchemist: You read well. Enter now into trance knowing that though the moon we know is barren of water – yet it rules the tides of the oceans – and our own emotions. This is the Moon of Taurus, ruled by Venus.

Trance Journey

Elaine: I reach the Temple of the Zodiac slowly, enjoying the scent of the grass with its wild flowers. I enter and honour the Central Flame. Without this I may lose myself in dreams! I approach the Portal of Taurus. It is beautiful! Like Aiden I see changing forms, but to me they are processions of faery-like beings, either very beautiful or extremely ugly. Some are very tall – others tiny. I see one elf, who is emaciated, with one pigtail of thin hair reaching his knees. Small furry red squirrels encourage me to cross the threshold! I can hear them telling me to be brave. I wonder why this never brings the reassurance it is meant to give!

Ah! I am across the threshold. I am in a television studio. Men and women are very slim and wear “ecru” pale loose shirts and leggings. They have longish hair. The women wear earrings and bracelets, the men pendants with some curious device like a lightning bolt. I do not feel they are physical.

One of the men in a long white cloak addresses me casually. “Oh here you are again!” he says: “This time we hope it will be better. We are transmitting a neo-Avalon myth, after a cataclysm. I am Merlin. The people need dreams – they are disillusioned with mechanical toys.”

I say, “But you are using television!” They look surprised. A woman says: “Where do you think you are! This is a real world but we are not biological. Nor are you at this moment. It is from here that we send forth stories that bring forth our gifts to humanity. They come to us when they sleep and together we make up our stories. For instance I wear this blue veil. I am Morgan le Fay.”

I say, “Then all religious myths and legends are only stories made up by you and acted by people on earth?”

“Quite the reverse”, says Merlin. “What we create here we draw from people’s hopes and beliefs. We use these along with our own creations. So earthly facts, when these contradict our stories, never last. People prefer our stories. Naturally. They last forever. They are Divine.”

Another woman speaks: “You are not enough in trance, so you need a proper adventure. I am the Witch Vivienne! Look at the ceiling.”

Thinking this ridiculous, I nonetheless obey Vivienne and stare at the plain white ceiling. *** It has become a stormy grey sky. I find myself in a broken-down cottage, with a group of roughly dressed men and women who are angry. I gather they are speaking some Celtic tongue. The subject of their talk is a small girl with large black eyes crouching in the doorway. An angry old man is denouncing her as a witch. Yet I gather this is long before Christian times… I enter the cottage. Some people are examining the biggest cauldron I have ever seen. A broomstick stands by it. It is filled with boiling herbs, with the sweet scent of lavender. I gather that the girl is refusing to marry a man chosen for her by her father. She is accused of witchcraft, because there had been bad harvests for three years running – just when she had begun healing with her herbs boiled in this cauldron.

A giant woman marches forth from behind a high dolmen. The people have prepared a fire in which to burn the girl. The old woman examines it – then kicks away the logs. She lifts up her arms and makes a mighty chant. The people shrink away from her. There is a lightning flash and roll of thunder that reverberates through the hills. The people flee in terror as the storm breaks. The old woman takes the girl and a boy into the shack for safety and beckons me to follow. We are just in time for the waters rise and the whole land is inundated with water.

The storm abates and the full moon shines through the window. The woman changes. She rises to her feet and I know Her for a Goddess! She puts a finger within the cauldron where some drops remain. Then she anoints the brows of the girl, her brother and myself. She says to each of us: “You are at the source of Creation. I am the Goddess Cerridwen of the White Rock. My son shall be the mighty magician Taliesin, known to many as Merlin. In verity he comes from the summer stars. This maiden is my daughter, Creirwe, Healer of Souls.“

“Elaine, those artists you met in the studio, imagine that they create the beings they produce through their arts. But we the Deities are real, because we are eternal. And so are all of you and all that isCreation is the joyful re-forming of that which is already there, awaiting the creator’s art inspired from the eternal NOW.”

Her words come to me far away, as I find myself sinking back into the studio, seated on an upturned box. He who plays Merlin holds my hand and says: “You have been to the Fount.” I feel safe with him – somehow he is familiar to me. Morgan Le Fay looks like Cerridwen, and she smiles as if reading my thoughts. A girl like Creirwe sits cross-legged on the floor, placing lavender flowers in the Holy Grael *** I wonder what part I shall play? But this too is a dream *** I find it hard to return to the Temple of the Zodiac. Friendly squirrels help me through the threshold ***

Once more I am with you all in real life in our Temple of Alchemy. Or am I? Which is the dream? What the reality? I think I shall accept whatever is Divine as real, and enjoy its many reflections in many spheres. So nothing loving and beautiful is lost.

End of Trance

Elaine has been in very deep trance though still with memory. She receives her alchemical degree. Memory is the preserver of treasured happiness. Thanks are given to the deities and reports are shared.

End of Rite

Sources: “The Mabinogion,” translated by Gwyn Jones and Thomas Jones, preface by John Updike, Everyman’s Library Classics series, London, 1972, reprinted 2001. “La Morte D’Arthur,” Sir Thomas Mallory, with introduction by Professor Ernest Rhys, Everyman‘s Library, volumes 1 & 2, E. P. Dutton & Co., New York, 1912. “Myths & Legends of the Celtic Race,” T. W. Rolleston, Harrap Publishing Group Ltd., London, 1927. “Pagan Celtic Britain,” Anne Ross, Routledge & Kegan Paul, London, 1967. “The Avalonians,” Patrick Benham, Gothic Image Publications, Glastonbury, UK, 1993. “Celtic Wonder Tales,” Ella Young, Illustrated by Maude Gonne, Floris Classics, Edinburgh, 1923 & 1985. “The Sea Priestess,” Dion Fortune, The Aquarian Press, London, 1957. “Moon Magic,” Dion Fortune, The Aquarian Press, London, 1956. The Marseilles Tarot is used in all rites, originally produced in 1748, published by B.P. Grimaud. Paris,1930.

Back to Tara of the Oracles

Back to Fellowship of Isis Liturgy