 What Is Meant By The Term The Deep Feminine? Well what 'The Deep Feminine' ultimately speaks to me about is the womb, the holding place, the void for which the spark of creativity then flies from in the form of the divine masculine in fact.
One of the two sacred laws of the First Nation people as I understand them, states that 'everything is first born of woman', so if you are a man or male thing, or this spark that I have just talked about then that act of being male initially comes out from this holding space of woman, the place of birthing, of nourishment and vast nothingness and stillness. So the deep feminine means to me things like Mother Earth herself, our soul, where this quietness and calm resides at our centre, our inner void, our presence, our essence, all the creatures on the planet that are closely connected with this and in particular all women that we know that display similar if not the same qualities and abilities within our society. So we as men need to respect that natural law and bring back a real appreciation for the feminine aspect of our society and within oursleves so that it is able to establish an equal footing within our community again. So that the deep (divine) feminine is empowered and the divine masculine stands by guarding and protecting it so that it can continue to grow and flourish, rather than raping and pillaging it, which the toxic masculine would have done in the past and still does to a large degree across the planet today, a consciouness which needs to be brought to a rapid halt. This is the imbalance that we as men wish to evolve away from, distancing ourselves from toxic masculinity in order to become more divine in nature. This is something that we will be endeavouring to do through my new Orion Reborn Mens Program of which the Facebook Group for it has only just recently formed in support of the wider transformational program of the same name that I am offering later in the year to my fellow brothers. If you are interested in this program or know of anyone else that could be please do not hesitate to get in contact with me about it. x
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 Running about the garden, with my little yellow net.
Tottering in and out of borders, wondering what life I’d met. Chasing fellow brethren, through flowers and the veg. Pulling wings off Cabbage White, avenging atrocities of the dead. Then one moment that did change, you appeared above the hedge. A power came to greet me, placing love in heart, in wedge. So vibrant in your colour, yellow, magenta, cyan, black. Shining well beyond that of mine, I could never now look back. What pleasure had you brought to me, in one mere fleeting glimpse. Little did I know then, how long before meeting hence. Three decades flew by, plus a year or two besides. Travel needed to foreign lands, different times and tides. But there again you were, in garden, bobbing through the bush. My pulse began a racing, to a beat I could hardly hush. For here you brought an energy, like which I had never felt. Throbbing up my vertebrae, my body began to melt. A tingle and a rush of blood, my head was all a swoon. Giddy with delight on seeing you, one moment not too soon. All ablaze in sunshine, of daffodil in hue. A dream to be together again, just that of me and you. But what about the purpose, connection thirty years apart. A thought I must just ponder on, not knowing where to start. And so a journey then began, of peak and then of trough. Of looking for my life and path, before spirit cried enough. A dozen dances of the wheel, had come and gone by then. Camped within Druid valley, awash with poetry and of pen. Nights spent under canvas, daytime in and out of lodge. A training in completion, no false identity to dodge. Here I was in element, to nature in just keeping. Touched so deeply by the land, tears continued on the weeping. And so it was upon the vale, where swallows kept a coming. Swooping low and fast, bringing messages of becoming. Darting here and darting there, a gilding and a sail. A flish, a flash, a loop or two, one glorious coloured tail. Whispering ever so quietly, each one they said the same. My mirror that of Swallowtail, I’d found my medicine name. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below.  There’s a freshness to this place, like which I’ve never seen.
There’s a wind, a breeze, an inkling, lifting veil of life and dream. There’s grass beneath my feet, soft, moist, like never tread. There’s an expectancy apparent, of an existence hanging by a thread. Stood tall, eyes pierced, to horizon, crystal to the view. There’s a nudge from behind me, of a presence unimaginably new. A force that continues pushing, of a creature’s mighty thrust. I look down upon his shoulders, my limbs buckling to his trust. For now I feel him in me, my legs and his are one. Calves strain, muscles, sinew, as in a moment we begin to run. At first I think I’m mounted, riding powerful, masculine beast. But then I see my hoof hit ground, will wonders never cease. My hart begins to pound, animate pulse pumps and quickens. Adrenalin, blood, spirit, coursing vein thickens. My nostrils start to flare, as we power on the charge. I and he as stag, passed bush and gorse we barge. Antler not in evidence, a steed not in his prime. Still development to be made, whether his essence or mine. Suddenly there is nervousness, a palpable, convincing fear. For what is that upon our path, no other than grizzly bear. Such a shock to see him there, immediately it is break. All senses alert and paralysed, as if bitten by a snake. My eyes wide eyed and open now, I’m back upon my bed. What more I wonder of Running Deer, my name whispered to me by the dead. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below.  She stands upon the shoreline, eyes peeled through breaking sea.
Windswept dunes and tide line, seaweed, pebbles and just thee. Far out beyond the horizon, stirring in the cobalt deep. There's a flicker of a tail fin, stretching sinew from slumbering heap. She's lithe and sleek, scales glistening, in shafts of moonlight shone. Answering an ancient calling, of a journey just begun. Through reef, along current, of a destination she is sure. A birthplace only known to her, individual and just pure. Inside the outstretched peninsula, a ripple of hope is barely seen. A swell of expectant bodies, ready, excited, very keen. Co-joined they are at estuary, between sand bar and the beach. Foot and gill a stride apart, just out of each others reach. A pace is taken forward, not one but three or four. Saline giving way to water, washing open homeward door. A yard or two along the riverbank, flat stone replaced by rock. There's a swishing and a splashing, a tick of body clock. Upstream there is momentum, the walk becomes a run. Pulses start a racing, breeding time has come. The salmon start a leaping, across weir and open brook. From eyes there is a seeping, of a longing for a look. A strong heart is so needed, for such a herculean jump. Around whirlpool and up waterfall, all faith in upward pump. At last upon the spawning ground, ones life can come to rest. A new generation in the birthing, all given of their best. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below.  There’s a strange shape at rest on the landscape.
With no clue as to friendship or foe. A huge bulk of a beast in its torso. We approach with great caution, wisely so. He’s snoring away in his slumber. His pot belly at the rise and then fall. We tip toe past this most fearsome of warthogs. Keeping quietly hidden and small. Beyond we look nervously over shoulder. To see if our progress wakes him from sleep. And so start running away to the boundary. When an abrupt snort comes from the deep. For now he’s rolled over more active. Alive at the prospect of lunch. Of a human or two on the menu. And what else could add to his brunch. He paws at the ground with his trotters. Gores down in the Earth with his tusk. Sweat pours from his brow and his midriff. A swine in his prime in full musk. He meanders his way to the fence line. A saunter becomes canter and then run. Before a stall in momentum against stake post. In his charge more sternness than fun. He sniffs hard at the air of his quarry. Stands rigid against territory wall. No hint to his thoughts or his actions. And whether flight is now needed or call. And yet there in his strength is an offer. To come closer and examine this kin. To stand tall along with his power. And share in his great presence and win. For he has not come for the fighting. Not least in the tradition of war. Instead he his here to inspire poet. To join forces with bard as wild boar. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2020 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below.  A Powerful Circle Of Animal Allies. In shamanism it is believed that if we journey through life without the assistance of a power animal or spirit guide we will continually feel lost, be unsure of ourselves, our purpose and the unique gifts that we have to offer the world. We will most likely remain incomplete, fractured and wounded for many years.
Just like in Phillip Pullman's 'His Dark Materials' and James Cameron's 'Avatar' where the lead characters all have power animals that assist them in their daily tasks and life passage, we too have such companions, in spirit form, available to us once we learn how to tap into their connection and qualities. If you are unsure of whether you have a power animal or not assisting you, they will most likely make themselves known to you through your passions and dreams. Alternatively in modern day living they can be seen in logos and advertising. If for instance there is an animal that you have been particularly drawn to in your life and have pictures of them plastered all over your walls then this could quite possibly be an indication of your power animal. Otherwise there may be an animal that regularly appears in wildlife programs or when you are out and about walking the land. It seemingly magically appears just when you are turning on the TV or passing its den. This animal is most likely trying to gain your attention for a particular reason and it too could hint at being an animal spirit guide for yourself. If we wish to seek clarification as to whether this animal is our power animal or not we can always take part in a shamanic drum journey, where to the beat of the drum we can voyage through our third eye into the world beneath the surface of the Earth. Here we can see what animal spirits want to greet us within the darkness as we take a subconscious passage into the dream state. Once we start to understand the unique essence of our power animal we can begin to appreciate our skills and attributes that are mirrored through it. Also, as we start to establish a resonance with this work and build a relationship with our initial companion other animals too can start to appear with particular tasks for our existence. Eventually we will be able to build a whole circle of allies to assist us in our quest for wholeness. Where these animals sit within our circle can determine the special message that they wish to bring to us and why they are here to help us at this time. Once we understand about the circle and the medicine wheel itself all begins to become clear. For me I have four main spirit animal allies in my circle, black panther of the West, grey wolf of the North, red stag of the East and orange tiger of the South, or this is how I refer to them in any case. I have a lot of other animal spirit guides too that come along at timely intervals with their own particular mission for me. The wildlife programs and films that I have watched over the years that have most resonated with me have been the likes of Big Cat Diary and Born Free. I have had a fascination with the larger feline animals of the world, especially when deemed to be at large within the UK too, including one that happened to be spotted just yards away from my second parental home some years ago. It was therefore no great surprise to me that when I searched for my initial power animal, a big cat in the form of a black panther presented itself to me within a drum journey. I know her to be my true power animal because she brings with her a healing ability which enables me to use my all seeing eyes to peer beyond the veil and look deep into things and people for the benefit of their own healing, coaching and guiding. She has a very sleek, sensual and feminine quality to her and has been journeying with me for most of my life, largely unnoticed. I have spent a great part of that time under her influence being steered by lunar energy and feminine creative qualities. In my shamanic training however another animal came to assist me in order to bring more equilibrium to my being. The red stag introduced himself to me in no uncertain terms to be the representative of my lesser known masculinity. He was delivered to me in a vivid dream on the first vision quest I took part in. It felt like a life changing experience and for a time he gave me a new medicine name to work with in Running Deer. He helped me journey towards a more balanced perspective on life counteracting the feminine. Another animal that sits in my circle is the tiger which most easily connects me with my passions and emotions. A signature species of the planet the tiger makes me aware of the deep love affair that I have with the Earth itself and all the inhabitants thereof. As a truly beautiful creature she makes me aware of not only her plight in the world but that of all species still alive with her habitat loss and threat of existence at the hands of man. The tiger brings to me a purpose and a passion to all of my work. Finally the wolf of the North sits proudly at the top of my circle and shows me the way, being the pathfinder that he is, his qualities include his strong heart, faithfulness and being of service to the clan that he is most closely aligned with. He, I believe, is sniffing out a new tribe or soul family for me to be a part of. Together they are an awesome foursome who are all helping me to become a more whole and complete individual able to lead his own life more assured of his own qualities, to which I am eternally grateful. In finding your own power animals you too can begin to bring a greater sense of wholeness to your being. Let me know if I can be of any assistance to you in helping you to find your own animal spirit guides by way of a drum journey or any other healing, coaching or guiding session I can take you through for that matter also. If you care to comment on this blog with regards to any issues or feelings it brings up for you please feel free to do so below.  The forest is shrouded in quiet.
Hushed grasses stay mute in the breeze. There's no danger it seems, no riot. So why just the feeling of unease. Every hair is stood to attention. Every sense attuned to the void. No sound to offer a mention. Yet flight instincts are ready and buoyed. Every pupil is scanned to the bushes. Every hoof prepared for the race. No stripe to be seen in the rushes. But the pulse just quickens a pace. Ears twitch and strain for a murmur. For the foot fall of velvety paw. Dust cushions the imprint of grandeur. No whisper of troublesome spoor. Breath is held in the moment. A pause before imminent strike. Prey pray for salvation, atonement. To be spared the carnivorous bite. The stalk is finally over. Forgotten in one leap and a bounce. A blaze of orange breaks cover. No chance for the chosen, one pounce. Fang and claw stretch out in the capture. Primal scream unleashed in the fall. Grabbed by the throat in the rapture. The vanquished can utter no more. One gasp just left in the mortal. One chest pump from imminent doom. Darkness has surrounded life's portal. But the tiger still shines in the gloom. By Simon Blackler Copyright © Simon Blackler 2019 If you care to comment on this poem at all please feel free to do so below.  The Swallowtail Butterfly I don't know when exactly it was that I first became aware of the true nature of butterflies, possibly when chasing them around the garden at home with my little yellow net, when I was barely able to walk, let alone run, at the age of two. When I felt free. When I was trying to catch the cabbage white, its lime green and black caterpillar having eaten up all of next door's greens. The adult butterfly having emerged from its chrysalis used to flock to our garden resting itself on our dahlia heads or rose bushes in our flower packed beds.
I used to get into all sorts of trouble rushing about trying to catch these dull looking, elusive creatures, a plain white butterfly with the odd black spot on the tips of its wings. I would take swipe after swipe with my ready made trap as I pursued them across open grassland and vegetable patch, doing more damage to the poor flowers and growing harvest than the butterflies themselves had ever done in my attempts to avenge the atrocities their former selves had administered to the plants over the fence. My parents were far from pleased with my antics. One day, having pulled the wings off my umpteenth leaf and petal pest, suddenly something happened to change all that. A wonderful swallowtail butterfly fluttered over the top of the hedge from below our house and danced magically for a few moments throughout the shrubbery bringing with it a new felt warmth into the garden as if it carried with it the sunlight itself. Its brightly coloured coat of yellow, cyan, magenta and black held me in awe of its own unique identity, shining well beyond mine. I would not wish to capture such a creature but just watch it, let it pitch and glide and wonder at it blissfully, as it made its passage through my life and be thankful for the time it had graced me with its presence. In later life I was to learn that this was indeed a rare sight and this experience was well and truly special. Swallowtails are scarce, hardly ever being seen in South West England more commonly being witnessed on the European mainland, although inevitably in decline with habitat loss. Had this one got lost? I wondered. Were they more common at the time? It's hard to believe these days that I actually saw it. Maybe I dreamt it? It certainly left a lasting impression on me. Perhaps it had brought a subliminal message from spirit that I wouldn't truly know the meaning of until experiencing another synchronistic moment like it some 30 years later. This is what I have come to believe in any case. I realized instantly from seeing it, that it was high time I put my net down, no longer to be used as a weapon of mass destruction against my fellow creature. I would celebrate the winged one for all it was, even the cabbage white, who in hindsight I thought had done its level best to emerge from its own destructive past into a much higher being. Who was I to condemn it for that? No, that would be a lesson for me in later life, a teaching about my own ability to transform, one in which I now hope to help others with too, including yourself, in learning what it takes to become a butterfly or a true ally of nature. If you care to comment on this blog with regards to any issues or feelings it brings up for you please feel free to do so below. |
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