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A Friend in the
House of Time The creator’s answer moved through me: Just let it play. Enter the game, and let the results be judged on their own merits. Whether you are talking to the actual Yeats, or the part of yourself that so loves him, or some daimon or essence of personality that is using the mask of the poet is of secondary interest. What is primary is what you bring through. Need I say that this offer was quite impossible to refuse? No sooner had I accepted the offer than synchronicity came into play, as may be counted upon when emotions are running high and bold ventures are unfurling their sails. I drove home from Connecticut and found a message waiting for me from a friend who had travelled in Yeats country in the west of Ireland the previous year. She had decided, for no obvious reason, to share with me her feeling that the barrows and faery mounds of Ireland had been used across the centuries as sites of shamanic initiation and interdimensional communication – even as launchpads for star travellers, coming or going. I shivered with excitement as I recognised the link with Yeats’s inaugural itinery, involving two ancient tumuli (a cold name for the Mounds of Wonder) in his own landscape. I hurried to research the names that Yeats had given me. My excitement deepened when I found that ‘Queen Maeve’s Tomb’ – a huge cairn that has never been opened – is right opposite Ben Bulben, at whose foot is the churchyard where Yeats wished to be buried. In Yeats’s early book ‘The Celtic Twilight’, I found a passage in which he says that there is a gate to the Otherworld in the side of Ben Bulben, “famous for hawks” – “the mountain in whose side the square white door swings open at nightfall to loose the faery riders on the world.” I called the friend who had sent me the message, out of the blue, about the cairns of Ireland. She described how, as she drove by Ben Bulben, her Irish guide had pointed out a strange shadow moving across the side of the mountain and declared that Yeats believed that this marked a door to the Otherworld of the Sidhe and the ancestors. My encounters with Yeats guided me to dream at several ancestral sites in Ireland that were places of vision for him and portals to the realms of the ancestors and the Sidhe. My full report on these sites – and what was revealed there – must be reserved for another book. When I shared some of my encounters with Yeats, a friend asked, “Is Yeats available to lead anyone through these realms or is he your guide? I would like to know how to connect with Yeats or someone like him. Or is it more a matter of the Other Side contacting us, and we just have to be ready?” I responded: “I think mutual affinity is the key. That, and being ready to do the work and making oneself available to the work whenever one is called. And recognising, above all, what entertains our guides and makes them want to spend time with us.” I recalled that I had read Yeats aloud for most of my life. I have written poems of my own under his influence and have always had the sense (or memory) of a shared connection with a magical order in Britain in the period between the world wars. I remembered many, many dreams and visions of the poet and his circle. “I feel I have been dreaming of Yeats all my life.” As I spoke, the vision returned to me of a radiant Otherworldly woman who has also appeared to me to invite me and guide me on journeys into ever deeper and higher realms. I call her simply the Blue Lady. My friend commented, “Ah, so there is another very important reason for honouring our dreams – to let our guides know we take them seriously and want more!” When we go dreaming, we step through the curtain of ordinary reality and wake up in a deeper world. Through the play of synchronicity, the powers of the deeper world push a finger through the veil to prod or tickle us awake.
© Robert Moss. All Rights Reserved. Includes material adapted from Robert Moss, The Dreamer’s Book of the Dead (Destiny Books, 2004). Used by permission.
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