As do I. As I wrote about in the threads that I linked to earlier, when I was last in Guinea, Mamady showed us the place where the spirits that protect his village reside, and he also pointed out that there was another place on the other side of the hill that we must absolutely not go to. He said that whenever someone who was not born in Balandugu goes to this place, they become lost, in the sense that all of their knowledge and memories are wiped out. Many people have gone to this place and have never been seen again. I had no doubt at all that he was telling the truth; I can not tell you what a strong pull I had to that place. It took a huge effort of will to keep my feet from leading me that way. But I have no doubt of what my fate would have been had I given in.
As for the question that River asked I don't think that the language used was the primary method of communication that the people there use with the spirits. I think that the use of plants and stones and other natural elements is more important.
Other Spiritual Paths ?
- Voronwë the Faithful
- At the intersection of here and now
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The Irish would relate similar stories--of fairies and spirits luring you in, making you lose all sense of space and time and location. It's a captivating thought.
I can't say as I've ever felt something like this in a negative sense. I have felt a kinship to the world around me (when I am out in Nature), a sense of oneness, a sense of wonder. Losing myself in the moment...
I can't say as I've ever felt something like this in a negative sense. I have felt a kinship to the world around me (when I am out in Nature), a sense of oneness, a sense of wonder. Losing myself in the moment...
Thanks!
I spend a fair amount of time playing outside. I've never encountered anything as insidious as what Voronwë met with in Guinea, but I've been in places where I couldn't stay oriented and others where I just couldn't be comfortable. I got scared, I knew I was not welcome, etc. I've also been places where it was okay to pass through or visit for a little while, but not to stay, if that makes sense. And then others just welcome me and others are, for lack of a better word, sacred. More sacred than any structure built by man - those have the weight of faith and history, but these places seem to have the entire world in them (and some people in my family wonder why I decided to get married outdoors - where else to take a vow but out under the sky?). I think that whether people admit it or not, we all feel that from time to time. Why else do parks exist?
Also, ever noticed how your tools, whether you made them or bought them or were issued them at work, feel more right in your hands than someone else's? It can't be just me. I've heard labmates grumble about how much they hate so-and-so's pipets. In aikido classes, when we've been practicing with weapons and there're a bunch of apparently indentical sticks lying around, people inevitably make a beeline for their staff or wooden sword. They don't even necessarily look for the initials we've all inked onto the ends. They just know. Same with musical instruments. My viola will sing for me. The viola my husband's friend left behind when he moved though...yeah. I think it's safe to say that that instrument and I despise each other. Actually, I think that instrument just hates mankind. S's friend didn't treat it well and since that viola and I hate each other I haven't been much better. :/
I spend a fair amount of time playing outside. I've never encountered anything as insidious as what Voronwë met with in Guinea, but I've been in places where I couldn't stay oriented and others where I just couldn't be comfortable. I got scared, I knew I was not welcome, etc. I've also been places where it was okay to pass through or visit for a little while, but not to stay, if that makes sense. And then others just welcome me and others are, for lack of a better word, sacred. More sacred than any structure built by man - those have the weight of faith and history, but these places seem to have the entire world in them (and some people in my family wonder why I decided to get married outdoors - where else to take a vow but out under the sky?). I think that whether people admit it or not, we all feel that from time to time. Why else do parks exist?
Also, ever noticed how your tools, whether you made them or bought them or were issued them at work, feel more right in your hands than someone else's? It can't be just me. I've heard labmates grumble about how much they hate so-and-so's pipets. In aikido classes, when we've been practicing with weapons and there're a bunch of apparently indentical sticks lying around, people inevitably make a beeline for their staff or wooden sword. They don't even necessarily look for the initials we've all inked onto the ends. They just know. Same with musical instruments. My viola will sing for me. The viola my husband's friend left behind when he moved though...yeah. I think it's safe to say that that instrument and I despise each other. Actually, I think that instrument just hates mankind. S's friend didn't treat it well and since that viola and I hate each other I haven't been much better. :/
When you can do nothing what can you do?
There are areas that I call Bad Spirit Places. Those that are known to me I stay clear of. One of them is but a short distance away from me. However as a young man I once visited these woods and saw an unfamiliar Forest and river where the Chesapeake Bay was suppose to be. It was like looking through a window in time.Lalaith wrote:The Irish would relate similar stories--of fairies and spirits luring you in, making you lose all sense of space and time and location. It's a captivating thought.
I can't say as I've ever felt something like this in a negative sense. I have felt a kinship to the world around me (when I am out in Nature), a sense of oneness, a sense of wonder. Losing myself in the moment...
http://www.paranormalknowledge.com/arti ... woods.html
Pomthekie
- Primula Baggins
- Living in hope
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I hope your path will lead you back someday, Nenochtoo.
“There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King