Quantum Planet Tribe

A little more than a year ago, I had posted a drawing of this cross-eyed sphinx on Instagram. I was just trying to get back into drawing with mixed results and back then I had absolutely no inkling that I would ever go to Egypt, because I’m not much of a traveller. There are so many amazing places in this world and I don’t need to go everywhere personally. Shortly thereafter, in December of 2023, a former colleague of mine who also moonlights as an academic with antiquity as his specialty would start to flood my facebook feed with reposts from an associate of his, an egyptologist. It was basically an advent calendar where the egyptologist presented a (new) Egyptian god each day (one of which was of course the Ibis headed god Thoth).

A few months later, in January or February of last year, my former colleague reposted information about a class in hieroglyphs, offered by that same egyptologist. For some reason I was intrigued and asked him about it, but sadly it wasn’t for complete beginners such as myself. A few weeks later though, in late March, the egyptologist unexpectedly arranged a new beginner’s class in the middle of the semester, and after considering whether I was quite all there in my head, I decided to try it out.

During the first zoom class, we all took turns in talking about why we wanted to study hieroglyphs, and as you might imagine, many of the stories were delightfully pretentious. I could tell that many felt like their deep interest in Egypt made them unique (my favourite was the one who said she had been interested in the practicalities of mummification and burial rituals of Ancient Egypt since she was four years old) and I remember smiling a little to myself, thinking that anyone with half a braincell must find Ancient Egypt deeply interesting, as it really was an unparalleled civilisation (as far as we know), more dramatic and visually beguiling than any modern Marvel movie. In truth, I had been smiling a bit just like that towards all the spiritual folks in our communities who just can’t shut up about Egypt, and just look at me now. This is like Fate pointing at my face while yelling HA-HA, like Nelson in Simpsons.

Towards the end of the first class, when the teacher somehow had managed to summarise a couple of thousands of years of Egyptian history in less than two hours, she informed us that she, by happenstance, would be arranging a trip to Egypt in 2025, and anyone who was interested could learn more in another zoom meeting. Again, I was intrigued.

And it seemed like the trip of a lifetime, like an amazing blend of Agatha Christies Death on the Nile with Poirot and some Indiana Jones movie (but with less death preferably), and the itinerary was intense with excursions to tombs and temples and a cruise on the Nile and Lake Nasser and museum visits and lodging at Nubian villages and whatnot.

The longer the meeting went on, though, the more skeptical I became. I had had a tough couple of weeks back then, with several bad migraines that included vomiting almost every week, and the travel itinerary was ambitious (clearly made by an egyptologist rather than a tourist guide who understands that people… have bodies), long days full of excursions and little to no time for rest and recuperation, and I worried that I’d be out of commission on day two. And it was expensive (understandably). In the end I decided not to go and said no to the trip. I remember feeling like something within me sank, but I was convinced I had made the only reasonable choice.

So spring and summer came, and while some lucky bastards were preparing for a trip to Egypt, I had, amongst other things, somewhat accidentally immersed myself in Egyptian cosmology and the subject of Merkaba (the latter provoked by a youtube episode made by Molly McCord).

A tribe member had recommended me to read Drunvalo Melchizedeks ”the Ancient Secret of the Flower of Life” for more information about the Merkaba, which is why I spent most of the summer reading those two volumes while muttering under my breath, because those books are equal parts interesting and annoying, as is, I suspect, the author.

One evening towards the end of July I was having dinner with a couple of friends at the summer house, when I, as you do when you belong to the digitally addicted generation, listlessly checked my uneventful social media accounts in between. And on my otherwise destitute facebook feed came a post from the Egyptologist: ”We have received a cancellation from a person on our trip to Egypt. Do you know anyone who want’s to go? Contact me immediately.”

Me: 😳

I didn’t contact her right away. I held back, hesitated, thinking reasonably and frugally and waited till the day after when I couldn’t hold it anymore, and of course, by that time the teacher was waiting for confirmation from someone else who had reached out before me. In the end it was confirmed that I would go, and I was relived, elated even. It felt right, like it was my spot. That was my seat.

—

During the summer I had also the feeling that I wanted to make a salve or a balm with blue lotus (Nymphaea caerulae). Playfully I had called it the Egyptian salve, because blue lotus was used in Egypt, both ritually and medicinally from what I understand. I wasn’t quite sure what it would be for, actually, but gave it the tentative purpose of being a nurturing sleeping balm. Towards the end of August I took the time to make it, and together with the blue lotus I used mugwort, lavender and rose. I found myself singing to the salve; wishing, praying that it would be infused with the expansive and dreamlike yet impossibly safe magic of the blue night. Funny enough my throat (chakra?) was sore for days afterwards, even though I love singing and do it often.

(This image above is how I view the mayan glyph of the Blue Night)

I remember looking a little quizzically at the finished salve in their little jars, noted that it smelled good, but that I wasn’t sure what it was really for. Like it was a bit of a wild card. I gave one jar to my mother. ”No idea if it works or not, but these ingredients are supposedly good for settling down to sleep. And it smells pretty good.”

She forgot about the salve, and I forgot that she had it, but a week or so later, she told me that she’d tried it the night before when she had felt especially restless and worried. She’d looked at the jar sceptically and muttered that she didn’t know if it would be effective, but funny enough she slept as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Weeks later she told me she’d had a dream where she had had painted tribal patterns over her face, her nose, her temples and her neck and wrists. ”I apply that sleeping balm on those places, I’m not quite sure why.”

Ah, I thought. You’re anointing yourself with the salve.

—

Around the same time, I was still, rather absentmindedly pushing through the second volume of the Ancient Secret of the Flower of Life; when I came to this section:

”In 1984 Thoth appeared to me and said that I was to prepare for an initiation in Egypt. He said it was necessary for me to go through this initiation in order to connect with the Earth’s energies and to move with the Earth’s energies in the future. Thoth told me that for this initiation I had to arrive in Egypt without any help from myself. I could not buy a ticket or make any arrangements on my own. I also could not tell anyone that I wanted to go to Egypt. Somehow the events in my life had to naturally take me there without any effort on my part. If they did, then the initiation would begin. If they did not, then the initiation wouldn’t happen.”

Melchizedeks ends up being offered a trip to Egypt, fulfilling the requirement that he wasn’t to make any arrangements on his own. Thoth then instructs him to go a month later, between January 10 to January 19 1985, because this was the only time that the initiation could take place, and creates an itinerary that Melchizedek must not step away from. (The Ancient Secret of the Flower of Life, Volume 2, page 269-270)

Now you might wonder why I think this is so interesting, because God knows I wasn’t offered this trip for free (sigh 💸). The reason that I find this intriguing is that my own trip to Egypt with its own set itinerary, is scheduled from January 9 to January 20th 2025. Thus perfectly encompassing the dates of Melchizedeks trip and initiation, exactly 40 years later. Isn’t that weird?

Later in the book, Melchizedek describes the period between the January 10 and 19 as an energetically critical period that he calls ”the Egyptian window”, which I of course find even more interesting. Unfortunately he never explains exactly what it is, and why he finds it important, and so far I haven’t seen anyone else use this phrase.

I have since been trying to learn more about why (and if) this particular period in January could be of importance. I did note that it occurs during the Mayan resonant moon of the blue monkey, the moon of attunement, that takes place between Jan 10 to Feb 6.

I wondered if, since Melchizedek specifically called it the Egyptian window, it could be related to Sirius somehow (due to the importance of the Sothis cycle for the Egyptian culture); and Sirius does reach its highest point in the Sky on midnight, January 1.

Yesterday I heard of the term perihelion, and I learned that it is when the Earth is at its closest to the sun which occurs in early January. The opposite, aphelion, occurs when the Earth in its orbit is its farthest from the sun, which is around July 3rd. In early July, the sun and Sirius are conjunct, and in early January they are in opposition. During perihelion the Earth would then find itself in between the sun and Sirius, that would, some argue, create a possibility for spiritual attunement, much like the Sirius gate in early July.

But that would suggest January 3 being an important time, why would the Egyptian window in that case be between January 10 and 19? I’m not sure. ”The Egyptian window” leaves question marks that might never be answered, which drives me slightly mad. But it's intriguing.

—

I heard from the Egyptologist that it’s common with diarrhoea and stomach issues in Egypt and that we should prepare ourselves from that. I was thinking about bringing a wormwood tincture that I made this year. Since I’m not an herbalist, I wanted to double-check that it would actually be helpful with those things, and found a herbal monograph of wormwood that I had made last year. It said: Good against parasites and unfriendly bacteria in the digestive tract. Good for digestion.  Was used both as medicine and in religious ceremonies in Ancient Egypt thousands of years ago. Huh, that's fitting.

I was always in it for the plants, you know. It was the plants that led me here. It was the medicine and the magic of dandelion, mugwort, elder and nettle and all the other ones.

I couldn’t really predict how seduced I would be by myth, especially as it is used in astrology and the Mayan calendar for example. But it is a joy when these different things connect.

—

Today I watched the Quantum Compass for the wavespell of the Blue Night (incidentally my glyph). When Bella presented the new moon according to the Mayan calendar, the Resonant Monkey Moon, she had chosen an image of monkey that looked like a baboon. I was reminded that when Thoth was not shown as an anthropomorphic god with the head of an Ibis, he was shown as a baboon.

—

And you know, for all of this, I don’t know if there will be a grand initiation of any kind, and there doesn’t need to be. I think the best thing is to go there (or anywhere) with an open heart and an open mind and be present and just let things be. Like dandelion.  I’m grateful to be able to visit these special places, see new faces, eat lots of food. And I’m going to enjoy the full moon over the Nile (incidentally in my sun sign of Cancer).

I just asked the the Herbal Astrology Oracle about my upcoming trip, and as I was mixing the cards these two fell out first: