I don't know what impression I must have made on a long lost friend in the past, but after resuscitating our contact she found my hypothetical falling into a well to be a highly likely event and a good reason for buying a cell phone when the need for an emergency call arose! (I had long ago decided to pass on that particular contraption, apparently a cause of concern to her.)
Further on in our talk we got around to comparing the blows dealt us by life during the intervening fifteen years (what is time, really?). As I thought her son's recent breaking a thumb was really nothing to speak of, I felt obliged to contribute my own silly story of sleepwalking on the way home in the wee morning hours in April 2005 after a particularly taxing birthday party and falling literally head over heels into the water, just in front of City Hall in Stockholm, Sweden, not far from where I live!
I came to consciousness several meters below the water level and had a brief near death experience in which I saw three bold men staring at me as if observing a primitive species. For some reason I immediately identified them as Egyptian high priests, apparently known to me but now without their wigs on! (Where do you get these strange ideas from?) I instantly accused them for setting up my current predicament: "You know that I've already passed this water test," I angrily sent them a "telepathic" reproval as if they had had something to do with my suddenly veering to the left, getting a foot stuck in an iron handle protruding from the cobblestone and concrete quay flooring and tipping over into the water.
|Stockholm City Hall and adjoining quay|
I eventually betook myself out of the water but found a foot damaged from being bent in an unnatural angle while stuck in the iron handle. The little stunt also left a disfiguring scar for life on my right shin after scraping the leg against some sharp metal on the way down.
In November that same year a certain "Oxford" appeared in a dream of mine. I relate the circumstances of that encounter in chapter 10 of my book, "Emerald Oxford, an Echo of the Bard." Upon waking from the dream I had not the faintest idea what it was about besides its stark realism, its period dresses and its spoken English (a Swede, I had never dreamed in the English language before, although once in grammatically correct French - a language I am not familiar with). After googling and reading up on Tudor England (which the dream so clearly pointed to) I was certain I had caught a glimpse of the 17th Earl of Oxford in that dream, a person I had never heard of before. I soon discovered he too had suffered a leg wound at some point in his life. But that was in 2005-06, and only after the recent telephone conversation awoke a renewed interest in Oxford's leg wound.
Amazon's book search feature is surprisingly helpful for amateur research and I now discover that the famous fencing debacle when the Earl was only seventeen too involved a leg. While fencing, the Earl wounded a cook in his left thigh and death eventually resulted from the scar becoming infected. Oxfordians, who claim Oxford is the real author of everything ascribed to the pen name Shakespeare, have pointed to three mentions of a leg wound in The Sonnets, and Oxford seems to have suffered one too due to a long-standing feud with one Thomas Knyvett regarding the latter's family honour.
It might seem like a case of boomerang karma, accidentally causing another person's death in one's youth, nourishing that would unconsciously until later in life it manifests on one's own body in a street skirmish. As for this blogger's scarred shin it would have been highly amusing to know if Oxford had his right leg damaged too, and if so, thigh or shin!
I am here making an obscure reference to the outlandishly strange findings of the late Ian Stevenson, M.D., in his research spanning three decades on children who remember past lives and what what in that life caused some prominent birthmark or physical abnormality on their present body. It is usually a violent death in the previous life which leads to vivid memories in the next, and the wound has, in the case of birthmarks, mostly healed only leaving a reminder on the skin to mark out the place of the previous body trauma.
Is it possible that a soul in the earth may recapitulate a series of previous lives during the course of the present lifetime so that entering upon a new phase may activate "memories" even of former bodies? In my book, I noted that the Hindu dasha system (which I knew nothing about at the time) had put me on a new course in 2005: this lifetime's only 17 year period ruled by Mercury, lord of the scribes!
Mercury MD: 2005-08-19 - 2022-08-19
Antardasas in this MD:
Mer: 2005-08-19 - 2008-01-14
Ket: 2008-01-14 - 2009-01-10
Ven: 2009-01-10 - 2011-11-13
Sun: 2011-11-13 - 2012-09-19
Moo: 2012-09-19 - 2014-02-15
Mar: 2014-02-15 - 2015-02-12
Rah: 2015-02-12 - 2017-09-04
Jup: 2017-09-04 - 2019-12-10
Sat: 2019-12-10 - 2022-08-19
Having just entered in the major cycle (maha dasha) I was approached by an aqcuaintance during the summer asking me to work for him as a translator (English to Swedish). Speak of a clear cut entry into the "time of Mercury," the scribe and communicator of messages from other worlds or tongues! In early 2008 the company I was then translating for got into economic problems and folded, in perfect harmony with the end of the first sub-cycle (antardasha).
I believe I might have tapped into what Carl Jung called the collective (Western) unconscious (if removing his attempt to tie it to genetics). The dream (retold in some detail in my book) was so well explained by the Oxfordian theory of a love child resulting from a brief affair between the aging Queen Elizabeth and the young Lord and subsequently denied by both. This story is said to lie hidden in The Sonnets and after reading Hank Whittemore's masterful The Monument, I, being a sometime computer programmer, can only agree this looks like the nobleman's diary written in secret code.
Edward de Vere's time of birth seems not to have been recorded even though textual sources of from his adult life lauds his astrological acumen. But thanks to a detailed report on the young Lord's accidentally killing the cook it's not hard to see how that fateful summer evening must have left a distinct scar in his soul. Another Oxfordian, Paul Hemenway Altrocchi, M.D., even thinks "Shakespeare's" deep judicial learning sprang from this accident. Oxford, he says, closely followed the development of the legislation concerning a case like his own, and wove it into his writing.
As the approximate time of the fateful event is known, I put it in the inner circle and the Lord's chart in the outer just so that the ascendant (of the inner circle) will lie to the left at approx. nine o'clock, Western style.
As the earliest Western testimony to systematic astrology, Manilius' Astronomica speaks of a reciprocal influence between the earthly division of the heavens into twelve mundane temples or houses and the heavens (carrying the planets) themselves, I have adopted the practice of accepting aspects from the natal chart to the horoscope for the time/event in question, as well as the common aspects to the nativity cast by the transiting planets.
In this case we see the ominous massing of bad omens toward the end of Taurus, Leo and Aquarius. Even if not exact to the degree, I suggest the actual occurrence of an event to be in Leibniz' sense, the best possible world or moment, given the circumstances. That is, on balance, the event occurs at the perfect moment although one planet may have left its optimal position while another is not at his. For instance, in the above chart note how transiting Mars at 24 Taurus has just passed Oxford's Venus at the 23rd degree, while transiting Venus has still two degrees left before exactly opposing the nobleman's planet of accidents at 30 Aquarius. I have tested this assumption (or hypothesis) in a (very) few cases of airplane accidents and found it appeared to hold water.
But the point most obviously drawing attention to itself is Oxford's inborn Moon/Mars conjunction disposed by Lord Death (Saturn). Look at the transiting Moon, only one degree from Oxford's provisional Moon position (at midday) while more importantly the deadly contest takes place during the time Capricorn rose in the east, signifying the capricious and wounding horn (cornus)! (The symbol of course refers to self-styled autocrats, to dictators. For the good and generous ruler, check the sign Leo.)
At around 7:30 PM Oxford's natal Lord Death is activated by the Capricorn's rising degree, thus doubly emphasizing the lunar "day-to-day" rut which in the young Lord's life also is spiced with martial energy; a Mars which also just so happens to be the dispositor of his Sun sign Aries and thus involved in the milestones of the nobleman's life.
Do we need to spell it out in more detail? Then look to the transiting Lord Death and its opposition to Aquarius. All was set for a heavy psychic (lunar) trauma at this time in the young Lord's life. True sidereal astrology corroborates the findings of the astute literary researches of the Oxfordian persuasion.
The power of the zodiac is all too evident as the horned Capricornus was rising during Oxford's unfortunate fencing accident. While googling, I found an interesting article on the word "fencing," in connection with Edward de Vere as well as regarding its use in Shakespeare.
The author of this small investigative piece calls attention to the early mention (1578) of "fencing" in the English language in this poem by, presumedly, Oxford's hand. I, for my part, stare hypnotized at his mention of the weapon crossing and possibly marking one's opponent's shins.
By Fencing grows our terms of the Bravado,
Our foins and thrusts, the deadly stab and all:
Which some more finely call a Stabbado,
And some a blow, a cleanly wipe can call.
And some a rake, that crosseth both the shins,
Now with such stuff this joyful sport begins.
The archetypes are such that the more you work them, the more they keep giving. Case in point: In about 1985, a young man about seven years my junior was hired to my then workplace. After just a few days and in a spur of imagination I nicknamed him "Rocco" (or "Rocko" - I never bothered to put it into writing until now). His real name, Patrick, bore no obvious resemblance to the nick and I had no idea from where I got it. Possibly, there might have been a subconscious influence from popular culture; Sylvester Stallone's Rocky franchise had been operative since 1976, although I had never seen and was not interested in movies about boxing.
Only months before this man arrived, Lucy, a young women of twenty had been hired and there was immediate attraction between us. However, I soon became unsure of my feelings toward her because of her very forward personality. I also learned she was the premier Swedish fencer in her age group, and a martial arts practitioner to boot! (For my part I had spent time in prison because of my refusal to touch weapons when drafted for military service a few years earlier!) I began to sense a hidden male within Lucy, which felt strange, and that was the end of that budding romance. The interesting thing is that she, the newly arrived "Rocco" and I, still came to form a very close-knit circle within the staff and spent much time together apart from the work hours.
It was only decades later, during my web research in the wake of the Oxford dream that I came upon a bit of information that, again, strangely tallies with present life events. Oxford appears to have been familiar with an Italian fence master name Rocco who had established himself in London and taught the art. The "Rocco" in this life was incredibly skilled with hand and a fast and precise illustrator! He was invariably taken for a Southerner due to his ink black hair and slightly dark complexion.
I know what you're thinking now good reader, but no, I'm not seriously claiming to be Shakespeare reborn. But, as mentioned, the archetypes, like Plotinus' The One, is not grudgeful but keeps on giving to whoever does some digging! Perhaps our life is just as the Bard described it, woven of ultimately unreal dream stuff - what the Hindus call Maya.
|Can psyche impress the soma|
through real life events and within
the year produce a dream presenting
a close historic parallel?
(See my book for further details.)