The Frightened Monarch- 29th November 2025

Before the elderly Monarch passed away she saw present before her the eyes of the British peoples, and the mortality of the British reign itself.

The lace had gone from the mantle, the grounds although littered with British pounds were decadent - without nurture, unable to bear any crop, worked dry and now barren, this soil once of the mighty, was and is now dead to all.

Elizabeth allowed this.

She was master of the tight facade - and preferred a decorum no matter what the cost - however at the end, it had become but a theatre and a betrayal of the continent she once loved.

The spirit of the United Kingdom holidays now where the weathers are warmer - rehabilitating from the mishaps and ravages of a once mighty effect.

The derelict mother had long forgotten her infant child - for too long leaving the beloved country in the confinement of thugs, thieves and moribund tyrants.

It proved to be too big a task for any one soul to nurture and protect.

She feared poison; with nightly imaginings fevering her sleep … and her spirit yet still fixates on this one returning anxiety.

For the most part the Monarch’s soul does not have the wherewithal to realise she has departed one realm for another - and, that her majesty has been let go … no, instead, the same reoccurring fear returns again and again - that of being poisoned.

Elizabeth’s father had passed this ever vigilant fixation to her - it was private and unspoken, yet had became larger than life. No edible was ever truly enjoyed - for how could it be?

If one imagined their worst phobia (and best not to) being multiplied to the exclusion of all other thought - and, rooted in possibility besides - then the horror of living such a regal life can be generally anticipated.

Each and every one of them secretly live with this captured mindfulness of death pre-empting, preceding, pervading, all that they do.

And whether real or perceived, this mindset is so intoxicating that it precludes all else.

Such worry corrodes and inhibits the happy soul from knowing its true strength and joy. This is truly the glue of decorum - where each were steeled, masking and maintaining, keeping just enough control of their fears as to hide them in plain sight.

They are to be pitied, for these obsessions out-weighed any alluvial joy that they may have experienced.

No, the upper classes all fear death. It is not as the populace imagine.

Idleness will inevitably lead to introspection, and then to mania.

Depending on the character of the individual, one may preserve their soul by good works and deferring to their higher divinity within and without.

Yet when enmeshed in the grip of such fear, the being is immobilised, paralysed from life itself. It is a sadness beyond relief, one that taunts and contorts the desperate soul within.

Withering Heights- Sunday 23rd November 2025

Don Maitz

The mists of time are expired memories - first cauterised, then washed, filtered and released out from the atmosphere.

Although the astral remains will never be fully cleaned, they can be, in part, so transformed as to become almost useful.

There are often scenes in dramatic tales when on the moors a ghost appears in the mist, or from the forest as the white haze prevails, voices accompany the condensation and whisper their utterances with last minute urgency.

It may appear as fog, yet this astral film, this ethereal cloud-vapour is not of water, but born through the membranes of death itself.

So much of the intent of Humanity is sloughed off into the atmosphere daily, and it is with the fortitude of Angelic helpers that the ‘matter’ is rendered inept and then dissipate.

For the thoughts of men - whether they be alive or disincarnate - are forceful, and often reckless also.

Even after being debilitated (like an airless balloon) they can reform again just enough to be perceived for a very short time albeit.

For they are living memories still morseled to their creator in part - and although fractured and dismantled they have the ability to reform faintly once again into a mass.

And this material is used by sages and magicians, ‘interplanetary beings’, fairies etc. as a cloak to form, reanimating the astral ‘manna’, reshaping the indistinct into a temporary sheath of form (that is inert and harmless).

This material has been sanitised and of its own is not sinister or potent in effect - it is just rarified leftover emotion, be it high or low, not particalised.

Everything an Angel puts their hand to becomes ‘right again’, blessed with the peace of our Divinity - just one touch can make right that which has gone astray.

They counter-correct all that they are permitted to, for they are fastidious beings by nature - supremely vigilant and lovingly helpful.

And so this aggregate that we speak of has been dignified by their holy permeations and of itself is a united mist of combined longings emblematic of times long gone.

However should this material be purposed - repurposed - as something of a deceptive plasmic hologram manifesting aliens and the like - especially with a tell-tale repetitiveness - then know that these manifested ‘visions’ have no real substance and cannot harm you, and have imposters animating this material for effect and their persuasion.

Some individuals are more prone to perceiving such when their minds have been ‘opened’ and their threshold of discernment is thus compromised.

There are some men and entities who can manipulate the mists, trying to reassemble form with theatrical enterprise.

Yet mist now is all that it is, with neither living voice or vision withstanding.

The Placenta- November 16th, 2025

The placenta is the holy fruit of the womb, and, added to this profound organ is the duty of becoming a membraneous gate-keeper between one body and another.

When we understand particular concepts we can reference them in certain meditations and they can directly affect our inner constitution in a productive way.

For all that exists and operates, coexists and cooperates within Nature, there is some place thriving within our own microcosmic sphere of activity.

The planes of being all function within us - the Greater Nature to that of our own - we cannot but help to experience the rhythm and the seasons within ourselves - the tides, the warmth of the Sun, and so on.

We are a living variation of a system that knows life completely.

The mystery of the placenta is that it is a third party by which the mother and the baby can survive each other and thrive together.

It is neither made into being from either character - but enters into the union for a time to facilitate this union.

It is literally the ‘grafting on of virtue’ within the inner space - by which coexistence is possible and sustained.

The placenta is the Guardian Angel of the womb. It is for a short time, and the only time, incarnate in a physical form - to then die at the time of the birth, and become spiritually attached thereafter.

* * * * *

Sidenote: The consumption of physical placental products in cosmetics or medicines is not recommended for once birthed its forces are no longer active, and may even have a retrogressive effect to the unrelated consumer.

Four Sides- 10th November 2025

A structure conforms space and creates a purpose - for example: a window, be it square or rectangle that is in front of you - a tablet, a notepad, a tombstone - any square or rectangle that has four sides becomes a doorway open or closed, into the spiritual realms.

The thoughts and imagination will be very different before this door to in relation to your thinking and finding.

You can experiment with just a piece of paper. When the paper is in front of your line of sight the concepts that you are calling for begin to reach you, taking form, becoming recognisable, materialising.

In meditation one can mentally draw a frame.

Equally there is the painting - by which not only the imagination is conveyed to the artist, but to the viewer thereafter - and should the painting be elaborated on with any shape other than a four sided door its effect is very different in purpose and outcome.

Our position being face forward is significant - for wherever our gaze goes, goes we.

This is why some people fall asleep readily when face down on the rectangular bed - this is not however recommended.

The page of a book can literally draw you in, and if you linger on the same page sleepiness will ensue - for it is not the words present but rather the conforming window in front of you.

Face down on the rectangular prayer mat is an example of a portable door. The devotee is drawn right through and into a very different space by this action coupled with their intention.

Mirrors, without complications are best round, or not four sided.

The number four denotes space which is contained.

The earliest form (fourm) to follow the essential Trinity is this principle.

The diamond (rhombus, lozenge) became the matrix for all substantial life to manifest and build upon.

The sphere linked the layers of worlds, whilst the diamond became the fabric, and later the window.