Saturday, November 7, 2009

Mystic Scotland (Part 3 of 3 + 1)



The wind is fierce high above the North Atlantic. Here a mighty castle once stood defiantly in its wake, rooted to the solid rock, sentries posted along its walls, their eyes riveted on the distant horizon for the first terrifying glimpse of Norse Viking sail.



Now battered by the centuries, the remnants of Duntulm Castle still cling to a shear rock face on the extreme Northern headland of the Isle of Skye.

It was built by the MacDonalds in the 14th Century as defense against the Norse but abandoned when the infant son of a Clan Chief fell to his death from the rocky walls.

In punishment his nursemaid was set afloat alone on the North Atlantic. If her spirit remains to haunt these walls, eyes hallowed and carrying the limp body of a young boy in her arms seeking to return him to his father, it is hard to believe her scream could be heard about the shriek of the winds.

Two other ghosts are said to haunt this wind swept castle ruin, Hugh MacDonald who was locked in the dungeon and starved to death and the weeping of Margaret MaDonald, shunned by her husband after losing an eye in an accident.

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This post is for my friend Fairweather, who enjoys reading a spooky post almost as much as she enjoys writing one.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Friday Home Town Shoot Out




Linda and I are continuing to combine our efforts and jointly host a single page for our Shootouts on Friday.

At least until I'm through this new round of chemotherapy (read Christmas).

So to see our contribution this week please CLICK HERE

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Mystic Scotland (Part 2 of 3 + 1)




When this cairn was built and these massive standing stones were dragged into position, the birth of Jesus was still 2000 years in the future. Yet when Linda and I visited in 2002, as the culmination of 10 years of research into our Family History, we found them standing. Still.

This is the 4000 year old cairn at Corrimony, outside Beauly,in Northern Scotland. Surrounded by grazing sheep, this 4000 year old ruin calls us back beyond the bounds of history into realms of myth.

The cairns are thought to date from the late Neolithic period, and this type of cairn seems to be a style developed in this part of Scotland, which are collectively known as Clava Cairns.

Unlike the larger Neolithic tombs found in other parts of the country, it seems that the tombs at Clava were not used over a long period of time for a large community, rather evidence suggests that they were preserved for more elite members of a tribe. Perhaps a ruling caste or priesthood




The cairn is surrounded by 12 standing stones. Its original capstone lies off to one side, leaving the central portion of the chamber's roof now open to the elements.

It is still possible to crawl into the central chamber via a claustrophobic passage some 7 metres in length (as you'll see in the video I couldn't resist doing).

The mound was excavated in 1952 - when it was restored to its present condition - and traces of a burial in fetal position were discovered. The bones themselves had dissolved through the acidity of the soil working across millennia, with only a stain on the ground left to tell of their existence.

The passage and chamber are aligned on a Southwestern axis, aliened to the Midwinter sunset, as with the cairns at Clava. Midwinter was an important time of rebirth in the ancient calendar, as the sun began to regain its hold over the dark nights.

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Bonnie has asked for bagpipe music in the background of these videos. I'm not able to do that but will post some amazing videos of Scottish Pipers and Dancers from our 2002 trip to Scotland on Sunday. Hence the "+ 1" revision in the title of this post. Hope you enjoy it Bonnie!

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Lindsay IS Motion

The forest rests quietly in the warm sun of late Autumn, basking in the unexpected heat of a November day. Purring.

Content.



Until a distant sound is heard, the crackling of crisp Fall leaves beneath four prancing paws.



The sound intensifies until suddenly a wet nosed, black, waggy-tailed shape comes bounding along a forest trail that was ancient even when the moccasined feet of First Nation's people originally trod there. Her white tipped tail waves with euphoria. Her tongue hangs out the side of her mouth, panting with pleasure.



Lindsay is a blur of motion. No, it's not the inferiority of my little camera, she is actually a blur of motion, beyond any aperture speed's ability to capture.




Leaves fly in every direction as she hits the yellow carpeted floor of the forest, swirling about to check that Barry is still in sight.



And then she plunges on, over fallen logs and rocks, around the dark menacing trunks of giant oaks, white birch and mighty pines. She almost sails.



And then, as if she appreciates the disturbance she has made, as if she is aware she is desecrating the sacred peace of nature's own cathedral, as if she is aware she has been acting like a bull in a china shop, she halts.

And stands quietly in the profound silence of the early morning.

Before scampering off in glee until she is but a small black dot on the horizon.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Mystic Scotland (Part 1 of 3)




In 2002 Linda and I traveled to Scotland to research our family history. Along the way we discovered an entire country. We fell in love with its kindly people and its wonderful history. I've already posted on the research we conducted into my family's past in the little fishing village of Port Gordon.

Here is the beginning of a series on some of Scotland's ancient and mystical historic sites.



Not far from Inverness and even closer to Culloden, in the northern reaches of Scotland lies the 4000 year old Balnuaran of Clava, an ancient collection of cairns and standing stones, some impressively worked and over ten feet in height.

Here the leading members of an ancient and prehistoric people were buried and the silence that surrounds them is a testimony to the sanctity of this mystic place.

Eleven monoliths ring this neolithic site like a mini Stonehenge. All standing in mute testimony to the inexorable march of time.

The entrance to the passage cairn, shown at the end of the video, is perfectly aligned with the mid winter sun rise.

Linda and I make brief guest appearances, about 3/4 of the way into the video.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Happy Hallowe'en



They came in their hundreds.

They came in their costumes.

They came with eyes sparkling with mischief. And with candy.

It was Halloween, all Hallows Eve, and the ghosts and the goblins were out. As was the Swine Flu. In fact more people came disguised as the swine flu than any other costume this year.

And that is how it should be. Halloween is the time of year for us to face our most dreaded fears, and mock them. It isn't a celebration of dread, it is a purging of dread.

Afraid of death? Then become the dead, for just one night. And dance. And eat candy. Revel.

And they did. From babes in carriages to teens with barely any disguise at all.

And for once, it didn't rain on their parade, nor was it too cold for their constumes to be on display. No mother covering the wolfman or the princess with heavy winter coats.

"Trick or Treat! Shell Out Shell Out The Witches Are Out!

With thoughts for my daughter Heather whose children couldn't Trick or Treat this year. And my daughter Kathy whose son also is sidelined. All with the H1N1. Perfect timing guys!

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Natalie, at Musings from the Deep, had a suggestion she asked me to pass along:

"Barry, a few weeks ago, i did a post about sending healing energy to you, and other blog sufferers who were unwell.In my post, i suggested a few moments every time we logged on to do our posts, dedicated to sending healing and love.If we all did this, think of the healing generated! Sadly,only a few people responded. Maybe because your blog has more exposure, you could remind people."

To join her squad, CLICK HERE

Saturday, October 31, 2009

The Herbalist



It sat in the elbow of the old "L" shaped plaza, between a used computer store and a the Karnaphuli Bazar. But before I could get to it, the light drizzle we'd been having all day turned to a heavy downpour.

I shut the car door and decided to wait the storm out. It rattled the roof of the car and ran down the front windscreen in sheets. I turned on the wiper blades for a minute. The stark black and white "Herb House" sign came and went, came and went as the blades fought uselessly against the deluge.

My Naturopath had sent me here on a quest, not for exotic herbs, but for a more soluble form of vitamin D. I had never been to an Herbalist before and didn't even know there was one in our community. My impression of an herbalist came exclusively from movies like the Goonies. I pictured a murky chaotic interior filled with bags and glass jars all hand labeled by an ancient Chinese Herbalist who sat in shadows at the rear of the store dreamily smoking his bong.

The noise of the rain against the car roof was deafening.

I ached. It was the third day since my chemotherapy treatment and side effects were beginning to show up. Every joint in my body was in pain, buffeted only slightly by extra strength Tylenol.

Linda had no desire for me to be here. She wanted me safely cacooned at home as H1N1 swept across the city. My immune system may, or may not, have been impacted by the chemo. We won't know until the next blood test in three weeks time. Chances are it has been only slightly impacted at this point, so I think I'm safe enough to be out, among people. Briefly.

Besides, I don't do cabin fever well. I need to be out. I need to be doing things.

Another car pulled across the parking lot, wiper blades going at double speed, its wheels leaving a wake across the wet lot as it crawled passed.



I had a lot to think about, while I waited for the storm to let up. I'd just been reading an article on studies being conducted at the Indiana University School of Medicine. The study's director, Margaret Moga, was researching the arcane practice of sending healing energy at lab mice injected with cancer cells. Expecting a 100 percent fatality rate, instead the results had been nothing less than astonishing.

Initially inspired personally by ancient Chinese methods of herbal and natural remedies, Maga was taken aback with the results of both the control group of mice and the "experimental" group. All mice in both groups, which were expected to die in less than thirty days and those that received the healing energies focused by the lab assistants, lived out full life spans.

The preparation for the experiment was straightforward enough--project pure and positive thoughts, feelings and visions personal to the "healer" through a training session, and focus the positive energy through open palms upon the experimental group. After series of treatments, the group receiving healing went into remission and beat the cancer... but so did the group not treated.

This would have come as a complete shock if it hadn't already been done in studies, rigidly controlled by other skeptical scientists, before. Does the bio-mind have a large scattered field of energy that encompassed more than the intended mouse? Or was it all just a meaningless oddity.

The world was a stranger place than I had assumed. I sat in the car in the storm and thought.

Until the rain turned off with a suddenness that was startling. For a moment the world was quiet and peaceful, until I began to hear traffic roaring and beeping along nearby Eglinton Ave.

I reopened the car door and ran across the parking lot to the Herb House and the ancient Chinese bong smoker.

Instead I found a clean and modern store that reminded me of a strange cross between a drug store and a pet shop, with shelves of drugs next to shelves of large bags. The store was staffed by a young Indian couple who were laughing and teasing each other. I approached and showed them the note from the Naturopath. The young woman smiled and went to get the liquid form of Vitamin D from the shelf.

"Look under 'V'", the man reminded her,looking up from his Blackberry, "Not under 'D'"

She gave him an ironic smirk, and deftly picked the product from the shelf.

He charged me $17.50 and 5 cents for the bag, as now required by Ontario law. And my first visit with an Herbalist was over.

And I went home, without the flu.

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Those interested in reading more about the Healing experiment CLICK HERE