Children of the Wasteland

I started thinking about why I love to travel. It’s not easy to pick up and go somewhere new and adapt and learn the customs and still try and maintain your own way of life while simultaneously opening your head to other interpretations of conscious reality. But there is something that happens when you get to feel the energy of a specific place. It sticks with you longer than any photograph or souvenir, if you’re sensitive to it.

I first read about Rosslyn Chapel in 1999, when I was sixteen, in The Highlander, a magazine for people with Scottish ancestry. The article didn’t do much more than point out the pre-Columbus corn and cactus symbolism alongside Greenmen and the enigmatic Apprentice’s Pillar. It was a relatively shallow article. At that time, my mind had already decided that Christianity was pretty much a stolen pagan sun worshiping cult, but I just felt there was something weird at Rosslyn, and knew I had to go there. When I went to Scotland in 2004, I snuck away to Rosslyn and descended into the “secret” ritual chamber below…you know, the one where they keep Jesus’s blood or something (thank you Dan Brown. Right, cause the Holy Grail is treasure, a cup, or even an heir. Yes, Jesus had heirs, but the question you should be asking is whose heir was Jesus?)

This was my experience:

As I walked down the 13 steps into the chamber, I felt myself become extremely lightheaded, as tho I’d just knocked about five shots of good Scotch back. I leaned up against the wall to steady myself. The pit felt like death, the crypt where the body is kept, resting next to the Knight Templar carved out of stone. On the wall there were several carvings that made my head spin further; they were not the modern works of graffiti artists, but carved into the wet concrete when the St. Claires built the chapel to begin with. Not surprisingly, we see another Orion/Sirius connection:

Another Sirius/Orion reference…Wonder why? Take a look at the theories on the Scottish pyramids for example:

On a wall of Rosslyn Chapel’s underground crypt, the oldest and holiest structure in the building, is what’s been called a “working Masonic drawing.” It is shaped more like an obelisk than a pyramid, and yet it sang a siren song to me. The central line of the drawing passes through three pyramids—as viewed from above.

From my experience, it all comes down to energy. Being a musician, I tend to make metaphors to music because it is the easiest association for me. Music is energy, and in a sense, placing sacred sites along a path of energy is like creating a fretboard for a song you want to hear over and over and over again. Awesome if the song is bringing joy and enlightenment to all who hear it, but not so much if the song says “You are under control by us, submit and do not question.”

Mozart created Masonic music that stirred the unseen in his listeners.

What if the Masonic “G” is a key in which these songs are played? What if we tune our ears to B flat, the hum of the supermassive black hole at the center of our galaxy, instead? What does that do to our heads? What does this do to our minds, our bodies? I know from experience that stone structures strategically located can make you feel completely…out of your skull. To what ends?

In conclusion, my love of traveling has to do with tracking this vibrational energy that has been tapped so loudly by so many occult societies throughout time. The more I see, the more I feel that the truths I’ve unearthed over the years are stranger than I ever thought. Also, thank you to The Atlantean Conspiracy for this insightful article on the ley line connection.