great essay and I'm glad that you managed to relax with your absolutely insanely handsome husband. (BTW if there is ever a respiratory issue when on the road you can get amazing results from steaming with aromatics like thyme or eucalyptus or yarrow. the towel over the head boiled water in a bowl thing that can generally be rustled up on the fly)
When harvesting mugwort one night, atop of the mountain, by the moon, she appeared often as a spider. Artemis(ia) has alot of the weaver about her. That same night I received a vision around healing and yet there was this washing machine that kept appearing. wtf? took me _years_ to understand that this was in reference to the cycles.
it takes years but the threads are just so damn colorful to (be)hold
glad all is well with your IGH and welcome to the unveiling of Artemis! And thanks for talking about the weird shit and the invisible, until they aren't gods and such like that walk the earth with us. I often wonder about how the increase of screen experience will play out with the next gen as opposed to our more direct. I hitchhiked for years which was ripe ground for the unseen seen.
Where can I find more of your written experience, please. It is strange (in a good way....I think... and raises many questions. I hope your husband is well.
Which experience in particular? My first two books (Your Face Is A Forest and A Kindness of Ravens) collect previous journals, including from the trip I mention at the beginning.
"A number of stakeholders are currently working on raising awareness on the ‘lost river’, proposing potential solutions for its sustainable re-introduction in the Athenian landscape."
This touches upon a fascination I have. I'm fascinated by the fact -- history and details -- of burying creeks (usually, they were creeks) in cities. I'm also fascinated--naturally--in the history and facts of "daylighting" these creeks (and rivers) -- bringing them back up from their underground tomb.
When I researched this topic some years ago, I was shocked to learn the primary reason urban creeks were buried in the not-so-very-long-ago. Absent modern water filtration plants (themselves a problem to discuss at another time), before recent modern times, urban creeks were far too often treated as human waste removal systems -- or sewers. These naturally stank badly. And so burying them seemed to make sense at the time.
Now back to reading this fascinating essay / article. Thanks!
Becoming fascinated with and eventually following underground streams and rivers in Seattle is really what started me on this path.
Pollution and also flooding were two of the excuses used for the undergrounding of the rivers in Athens, as with many places in France. But the fact that roads were typically built on top of the courses of rivers throughout Europe seems to point to a mere desire to remove the river as an obstacle to the modern machine.
Jun 27, 2023·edited Jun 27, 2023Liked by Rhyd Wildermuth
Having now read your entire essay, Rhyd, I'm struck by the non-avoidability (which my spell check doesn't recognize) of an uncanny experience of my own, now decades ago.
There was this woman who would walk very, very slowly up the boulevard of the little Oregon town I was living in at the time. She had a remarkable and strange relationship to a fellow who was a friend. The two of them seemed to communicate silently with one another from across a room, each laughing at something only vaguely resembling a silent joke. The fellow, when I first saw him, was also an uncanny figure which brought me almost to tears in our silence upon my first seeing him. Beyond that, the story would get too long for this context.
Anyway, her walking so slowly was enough to get my full attention. No one ... no one... walks that slowly. And she had a sort of aura about her, whatever that means.
At the time, my familiar worldview was imploding, as I kept experiencing incidents of empathic sensitivity which were entirely off the charts, and also "psychic" forms of knowing -- or non-ordinary ways of accessing knowing. It was all a bit bewildering, to say the least. But I knew I had to approach this woman at some point and see if I could communicate with her.
When I did, I simply knew we were not to exchange words. I knew in this strange and uncanny sort of way I just mentioned. So I did what felt right to that sensibility. I didn't ask her name, where she came from, none of that. I sat silently next to her. I gazed upon her, but without staring.
I think I remember seeing a single snail in the soil, or on a nearby plant.
I sat in silence and opened myself to whatever kind of rapport might spontaneously emerge between us.
After a few moments of just being silently present with her in this way she began to VERY SLOWLY lift her skirt, to expose her leg.
Her leg was covered in snails! She kept lifting, slowly, and more snails appeared. Then more.
At some point I got on my feet, slowly, and walked away a moment.
Everything around us was covered in snails! Where before there had been only one.
I wasn't on any psychedelics or anything of the sort. I wasn't schizophrenic. But something happened that day I simply cannot fathom in the slightest.
Ever since -- and not only because of this experience, but not without proximity to this experience -- I've been living in what I suppose I should call "radical uncertainty" about "the nature of reality".
Thanks for listening. I've only extremely rarely spoken of this. It rocked my world in ways I simply cannot explain -- not even to myself!
"Here is the clue, then: we live in a world where miracles happen, events that are off the edge of plausibility, unless we are willing to open to the possibility that the reality we inhabit is run through with patterns of meaning. When everything is under control and running smoothly, the way that modern civilisation has been organised, the cracks through which such patterns could break in or reveal themselves are few and far between. As the order and predictability of our societies continues to fracture, my hunch is that we encounter more events that ought not to be possible according to the logics around which these societies have been structured."
- Dougald Hine, There Are Signs
That snail experience was "impossible". That's what made it uncanny. But at this time in my life, a peried in my mid-twenties, sometimes ten impossible things would happen in a week! It was dizzying, disorienting, and I wanted to flee from this intense magic at times, as it was swallowing up the world view I was born into, the culture I was born into. And it was offering no explanations for itself. It was also creating a chasm between myself and most of the people around me.
The best explanation I have read for the uncanny valley effect is that the reaction insured our ancestors were cautious around dead bodies ("looks human but isn't")--given that they may have disease, septicity, or vermin.
I think I read something along these lines, but I keep wondering about that since smell from dead bodies starts almost immediately unless it's quite cold. And I generally suspect smell was a more significant sense for our ancestors than it is for us now (since so many other odors, especially in cities, overpower more subtle scents).
Jun 27, 2023·edited Jun 27, 2023Liked by Rhyd Wildermuth
Yes. And I also find the idea that this is a vestigial reflex from the deep past when humans were encountering *somethings* that looked human but weren't, deliciously spooky.
I suspect this response may be related to the number of other human species that once existed. Recent research has turned up evidence that there were once several species of humans (the best known other then Homo sapiens sapiens being the Neaderthals). For reasons unknown they are all extinct. One theory is that our ancestors killed them off. If there was violence between branches of the human family tree, I’d would explain our fear of things that look human but aren’t. It also might do a great deal to explain why humans have a propensity to exclude other humans who look different and categorize them as subhuman. Unfortunately, there is zero consideration of how the exist of other humanities affects us and our world spiritually. (Outside of crazy Nazi theories about is being a superior race of ex- Neanderthals from the center of our flat earth or whatever.)
Did you feel anything when you stepped into the church on top of Menez Hom? I ask because I felt like I was on the brink of a very deep hole when I stepped in, and had to walk around the edge of the room to get to the altar. It was right in the centre of the building.
Whoa! I didn't visit the chapel, no, but that makes a lot of sense since it was built on a former pagan temple. I have been to other chapels where it felt immediately obvious there was something trying to get attention just under the altar area.
Also, despite not visiting Sainte-Marie-de-Menez-Hom, I did get to see the Brigantia statue they'd found from the original temple, which was held for awhile in the museum at Rennes. Here's a video I took of it (the mesh part is reconstruction, the other parts are the original:
great essay and I'm glad that you managed to relax with your absolutely insanely handsome husband. (BTW if there is ever a respiratory issue when on the road you can get amazing results from steaming with aromatics like thyme or eucalyptus or yarrow. the towel over the head boiled water in a bowl thing that can generally be rustled up on the fly)
When harvesting mugwort one night, atop of the mountain, by the moon, she appeared often as a spider. Artemis(ia) has alot of the weaver about her. That same night I received a vision around healing and yet there was this washing machine that kept appearing. wtf? took me _years_ to understand that this was in reference to the cycles.
it takes years but the threads are just so damn colorful to (be)hold
Ha! Our dreamworlds really sometimes are much more obvious than we ever let them be. :)
Artemis is "new" to me, except I'm learning she really wasn't -- I'd just not noticed her before.
I've used the towel trick with thyme before. Wish I'd been able to offer that to him on the trip! He's all better now, fortunately.
glad all is well with your IGH and welcome to the unveiling of Artemis! And thanks for talking about the weird shit and the invisible, until they aren't gods and such like that walk the earth with us. I often wonder about how the increase of screen experience will play out with the next gen as opposed to our more direct. I hitchhiked for years which was ripe ground for the unseen seen.
Where can I find more of your written experience, please. It is strange (in a good way....I think... and raises many questions. I hope your husband is well.
Which experience in particular? My first two books (Your Face Is A Forest and A Kindness of Ravens) collect previous journals, including from the trip I mention at the beginning.
well, the books are a start!. thank you.
Still reading. Pausing to share a bit.
"A number of stakeholders are currently working on raising awareness on the ‘lost river’, proposing potential solutions for its sustainable re-introduction in the Athenian landscape."
This touches upon a fascination I have. I'm fascinated by the fact -- history and details -- of burying creeks (usually, they were creeks) in cities. I'm also fascinated--naturally--in the history and facts of "daylighting" these creeks (and rivers) -- bringing them back up from their underground tomb.
When I researched this topic some years ago, I was shocked to learn the primary reason urban creeks were buried in the not-so-very-long-ago. Absent modern water filtration plants (themselves a problem to discuss at another time), before recent modern times, urban creeks were far too often treated as human waste removal systems -- or sewers. These naturally stank badly. And so burying them seemed to make sense at the time.
Now back to reading this fascinating essay / article. Thanks!
Becoming fascinated with and eventually following underground streams and rivers in Seattle is really what started me on this path.
Pollution and also flooding were two of the excuses used for the undergrounding of the rivers in Athens, as with many places in France. But the fact that roads were typically built on top of the courses of rivers throughout Europe seems to point to a mere desire to remove the river as an obstacle to the modern machine.
Having now read your entire essay, Rhyd, I'm struck by the non-avoidability (which my spell check doesn't recognize) of an uncanny experience of my own, now decades ago.
There was this woman who would walk very, very slowly up the boulevard of the little Oregon town I was living in at the time. She had a remarkable and strange relationship to a fellow who was a friend. The two of them seemed to communicate silently with one another from across a room, each laughing at something only vaguely resembling a silent joke. The fellow, when I first saw him, was also an uncanny figure which brought me almost to tears in our silence upon my first seeing him. Beyond that, the story would get too long for this context.
Anyway, her walking so slowly was enough to get my full attention. No one ... no one... walks that slowly. And she had a sort of aura about her, whatever that means.
At the time, my familiar worldview was imploding, as I kept experiencing incidents of empathic sensitivity which were entirely off the charts, and also "psychic" forms of knowing -- or non-ordinary ways of accessing knowing. It was all a bit bewildering, to say the least. But I knew I had to approach this woman at some point and see if I could communicate with her.
When I did, I simply knew we were not to exchange words. I knew in this strange and uncanny sort of way I just mentioned. So I did what felt right to that sensibility. I didn't ask her name, where she came from, none of that. I sat silently next to her. I gazed upon her, but without staring.
I think I remember seeing a single snail in the soil, or on a nearby plant.
I sat in silence and opened myself to whatever kind of rapport might spontaneously emerge between us.
After a few moments of just being silently present with her in this way she began to VERY SLOWLY lift her skirt, to expose her leg.
Her leg was covered in snails! She kept lifting, slowly, and more snails appeared. Then more.
At some point I got on my feet, slowly, and walked away a moment.
Everything around us was covered in snails! Where before there had been only one.
I wasn't on any psychedelics or anything of the sort. I wasn't schizophrenic. But something happened that day I simply cannot fathom in the slightest.
Ever since -- and not only because of this experience, but not without proximity to this experience -- I've been living in what I suppose I should call "radical uncertainty" about "the nature of reality".
Thanks for listening. I've only extremely rarely spoken of this. It rocked my world in ways I simply cannot explain -- not even to myself!
"Here is the clue, then: we live in a world where miracles happen, events that are off the edge of plausibility, unless we are willing to open to the possibility that the reality we inhabit is run through with patterns of meaning. When everything is under control and running smoothly, the way that modern civilisation has been organised, the cracks through which such patterns could break in or reveal themselves are few and far between. As the order and predictability of our societies continues to fracture, my hunch is that we encounter more events that ought not to be possible according to the logics around which these societies have been structured."
- Dougald Hine, There Are Signs
That snail experience was "impossible". That's what made it uncanny. But at this time in my life, a peried in my mid-twenties, sometimes ten impossible things would happen in a week! It was dizzying, disorienting, and I wanted to flee from this intense magic at times, as it was swallowing up the world view I was born into, the culture I was born into. And it was offering no explanations for itself. It was also creating a chasm between myself and most of the people around me.
The best explanation I have read for the uncanny valley effect is that the reaction insured our ancestors were cautious around dead bodies ("looks human but isn't")--given that they may have disease, septicity, or vermin.
I think I read something along these lines, but I keep wondering about that since smell from dead bodies starts almost immediately unless it's quite cold. And I generally suspect smell was a more significant sense for our ancestors than it is for us now (since so many other odors, especially in cities, overpower more subtle scents).
Yes. And I also find the idea that this is a vestigial reflex from the deep past when humans were encountering *somethings* that looked human but weren't, deliciously spooky.
I suspect this response may be related to the number of other human species that once existed. Recent research has turned up evidence that there were once several species of humans (the best known other then Homo sapiens sapiens being the Neaderthals). For reasons unknown they are all extinct. One theory is that our ancestors killed them off. If there was violence between branches of the human family tree, I’d would explain our fear of things that look human but aren’t. It also might do a great deal to explain why humans have a propensity to exclude other humans who look different and categorize them as subhuman. Unfortunately, there is zero consideration of how the exist of other humanities affects us and our world spiritually. (Outside of crazy Nazi theories about is being a superior race of ex- Neanderthals from the center of our flat earth or whatever.)
Rhyd, I so enjoy your writings and the stories you tell feel like I’m listening to a kindred spirit. Thank you.
Laura
Did you feel anything when you stepped into the church on top of Menez Hom? I ask because I felt like I was on the brink of a very deep hole when I stepped in, and had to walk around the edge of the room to get to the altar. It was right in the centre of the building.
Whoa! I didn't visit the chapel, no, but that makes a lot of sense since it was built on a former pagan temple. I have been to other chapels where it felt immediately obvious there was something trying to get attention just under the altar area.
Also, despite not visiting Sainte-Marie-de-Menez-Hom, I did get to see the Brigantia statue they'd found from the original temple, which was held for awhile in the museum at Rennes. Here's a video I took of it (the mesh part is reconstruction, the other parts are the original:
https://youtube.com/shorts/pwtdO8iwjYg?feature=share
I thought this was all just wonderful to read. Thank you for sharing your journey.