To find hope in amongst such carnage is not easy. From the very beginning calamity and chaos was well starred early on in the year when tragically a driver had a heart attack and lost control of their vehicle, ploughing into the local Co-Op, destroying a wall, signage and the shop front while nearly killing themselves, staff and some shoppers inside. The sound of this accident alone, the scrapping metal, shattering glass and exploding rubble chilled both myself and my mother while sitting in the front room who was soon, in the ensuing short seven months, to die of an undiagnosed cancer. An image of a slow nose diving vast starship crashing into the earth seems to come to my mind for some reason. A catastrophic event tinged with the horror that absolutely nothing whatsoever could be done to stop it. Hypervigilance has a way of making you feel as if you are in control. It’s very deceptive and insidious.
As I battled in conjunction with doctors, carers and nurses to care for my mother while she slowly died before my very eyes I did what could be called my best to make her comfortable. When someone dies at home with their loved ones it can be a blessing but also something of a curse. Palliative caring I can safely tell you is one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do. The shuddering aftermath of a powerful human energy field, an active and industrious being of many years, ceasing its lifelong transmission can be a shocking and extremely painful event for anyone in its immediate blast zone. Particularly if that human being was responsible for your birth and nurturing. It is a critical lesson that I strongly suggest every single human being on this planet learns. It focusses your mind and clarifies any intentions that you may or may not have which are deemed to be slight, trivial or unimportant.
After the end of July death of my mother the next four months of bureaucratic fallout was another tedious and extremely testing thing that had to be dealt with. If you are suffering from PTSD, have minimal help and struggle to communicate your internal feelings, such a life event can be far more worse of an experience than is necessary. And yet, somehow one endures and manages to grasp hold of the nettle and hold it without stinging yourself. Some kindly came to me unasked offering help and condolences. Some that I asked for help responded. Others stay silent and retracted. For death raises many questions and reflects its permanent gaze back without emotion or fear. Discovering that my sister had died back in 2020 was a cruel instance of certain family members deciding that her death was just not that important enough to inform her mother or brother. 2023 has been a cruel year on more than one account.
My articles in Indie Shaman and Salt & Mirrors & Cats and the publication of Magical Amulets – A Personal View of Thai Buddhist Esoterica on Hadean Press have shone a little bit of hope in all of this chaotic, murky and tempestuous atmosphere. These literary publications have been guiding sources of light for me and have managed to lend some form of basic stability. The written word is the very glue that prevents the dominance of isolation and the crushing weight of depression. An album dedicated to the late great Jake Stratton-Kent and a re-issue of an old single have been my only forays into sonic territory that I’ve made this year which was punctuated by my fourth and maybe final pilgrimage to Thailand. My daily devoted practice and pathway as a practitioner of Buddhist magick has been the single most important centering action of this entirely strange and difficult year. Next year there will be yet another paradigm shift and once again the change and evolution that one strives for will transpire out into the open, hopeful and brilliant sunlight.
Peace & Blessings,
Sheer Zed
ॐ
Sheer Zed ~ Author • Buddhist Shaman • Musician 