By Linoia Pullen
a fireside tale
The ancient one gazed at the little band of seekers around the forest fire, flames flickering in their eager eyes. She lifted her hand and sprinkled the magic dust over the fire, images arising in the cracking night and began her story of the magic of colour…
On misty golden Mount Olympus, Juno sends for Iris, her beloved messenger, who carries all communication to mortals in the Underworld. A beautiful maiden, bedecked in every colour, she flits across the rainbow bridge into the imagination of those who would see through the smoke to the beginning of time.
You are floating in magenta mist; all is fluid, dreamy, in warmth of will, universal oneness. Gradually you become aware of the ground under your feet and notice a hazy horison, through dense carmine dew. You become familiar with plants and animals, planting and hunting during the day yet returning to magenta mist each night.
With time the light changes to golden sienna glow and for the first time you see an orange disc in the brazen sky. The pharaoh reads the wisdom from the heavens and all obey. As above; so below. You learn to measure, to build huge projects and paint in two dimensions.
A new pale yellow green, the last veil of darkness in front of the light, brings lightness to your body; you dance on bulls, play, fly and leap over your partner at the games. You feel your own body, know you are separate and delight in the play between heaven and earth. You explore space. Seafarers venture out.
The clarity of the Spiritual world, of Zeus, Apollo, Diana, the Furies who chastise those in error begin to fade. With horror you experience the World of Shades, the Twilight of the Gods. Everything becomes green. Thoughts take hold of your brain for the first time; you have your very own thoughts. Your feel the form of things and begin to sculpt. Schools of philosophy call you to ponder on the seven arts. Your clairvoyance dims and in pity, the Gods compensate by giving you the power of perceiving complementary colours as a reminder of your communion with the Gods. Your world appears as emerald green surrounded by magenta atmosphere. You have a clear view of the horison for the first time.
At the Turning point of Time the Spirit light of the world steps into the earthly stream of being, hardly noticed. Personalities develop in this green. Rome is filled with those demanding rights, making laws, having opinions The Crucifixion had taken place; the light has been. Now you walk towards the darkness.
In the new Cobalt light you feel bereft of the Spiritual companions, guides and mentors who have always guided you. Space is empty. Your senses come alive; you experience three dimensional space and perspective. You eye becomes focused and you rely on outer vision, experimentation and observation. Knowledge becomes information. You long to retreat into yourself, to find the inner warmth of cobalt. Your brain is sharp; intellect bristles.
The darkness deepens into the Indigo of the material world. Space is empty; so many lightyears to the nearest star. Atoms whirl about in matter! The new clairvoyance is connected to our living rooms, to our cars, to our very pockets. The Indigo of Denim prevails. And a deep fear creeps about in this darkness. And yet the mystery of indigo waits – the pure primary colours take refuge in its warm darkness. They hide in indigo longing to be redeemed. The depression we feel at being alone at the abyss, with no light except the one kindled within. Boundless depths – illness, famine, floods, abortion, and the killing of the helpless, the hopeless. Yet in Indigo glows mother-warmth filled with potential as we discover the light in the darkness.
‘Human Soul Know yourself!’ sounds the Cosmic Word. Michael no longer slays the dragon; he transforms it. We are ready for our final step to the Rainbow’s end.
In violet we experience the new thinking, the heart thinking. The heart is the new organ of perception. We are able to truly enter the being of the other, transforming fear into the Light of Compassion, into Love. From the dreamy Magenta glow of our mother’s womb to the violet ray of true Humanity, the rainbow spans the aeons of time, almost concluded.
“Colours are the deeds of Light, its deeds and sufferings” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
“Light and darkness, brightness and obscurity or if a more general expression is perferred, light and its absence, are necessary to the production of colour… Colour itself is a degree of darkness.”– Johan Wolfgane von Goethe
“Goethe argued there is no colour in the physical world; there are onlly patterns of light and dark. These patterns are a sensation produced by our very souls.”– John Gage