A few years ago I attended a workshop with a group of creative people, at the height of which we were discussing the use of the zodiac tent. One of the guys attending was telling us his vision, the girl next to me started holding her womb in her hands, I guess it was so male orientated, she made me laugh with her comments……
At one point the guy said something that registered quite strong for me (although I have no womb if I did I would be grabbing it too at that point). He said “you are either a gardener or a nomad”. I could not believe it, I wanted to hurl my neighbour’s womb at him.
The use of the word ‘nomads’ get quite a lot of abuse. These days the pastoral way of living, which is suited to some places, is fading out of view, the tribal heart is gone. In its place there is a displacement and we, the white people of the West, constantly feel we aren’t in the right place. Some tribal societies call it ‘the sickness of the white race’….Out of which another type of nomad has grown.
That nomad is the one that longs to find a tribal heart, a connectivity with the greater whole we seem to miss, that sense of belonging to a group of people, to an earth, to a greater purpose.
For the last 18 years I never seemed to be live longer than a year in one place, and at long stretches, I seem to be living in trucks, seemingly looking for a home. At a certain point I realised that, not only I’m looking for a home, I’m looking to create a heart of sorts, a centre for that group mind. A place where we can grow nomads beyond that separation that makes us wanderlust, wandering lost.
It’s another type of gardening I guess, although I still feel Julliete de Bairacli Levy was right when she said that if you move a lot, make sure to plant your lettuces on arrival. Chances are you will be around long enough to pick them, and I do confess that was always true for me, although in my garden I will grow nomads along with the lettuce. Nomads can be gardeners, and this one will grow nomads.
What I’ve been looking for all those years is not just a clear psychic landscape, but a means to bring those people into that experience, that together. We have been lucky enough to find it inside and outside as our daily reality – we live in a group formation, it takes a lot to uphold for sure, but it is gratifying.
Its always been hard to describe this inner outer reality of together, the telepathy, the move out of that individuality that so oppresses our collective unconscious, the world of me, me and me. Instead we live in a small group, where the boundaries of separation aren’t so clear, there is no me, it’s not clear what thoughts are mine and where the others start and I stop. My place in the group has always been the heart, so when it comes to feelings, it seems I live in a network of others. At times I’m not sure there is even a me left in there, maybe it all is their feelings.
It feels strong to have finally found a place on earth, to plant these nomadic seeds into living deeds, working on the first of a series of transformational events that are designed to take the individual beyond the self into the magic of the group body, in the wildest of wilds around the fire, doing the deepest magic, coming back to the tribal heart, through the sorcery of the other self.
We are creating the campsite that takes you away from you, and brings you into another world, where the collective trance of reconnecting as a whole gives birth to an unknown experience, the cure for that sickness of the white race – is the group body, and it belongs to our real selves. Hoping to see some of you as the garden-nomads too, to work with you into the tribal godhead. To share altered states of awareness as our daily bread.
Some things are maybe beyond our comprehension possibly, but they still do happen. It’s like that story of the Russian prince who one day got a visit from a nomadic sorceress, who said to him “surrender all your lands to me now or face the consequences”. He laughed of course. The next day the Mongolian horde overtook him, killing all his people.