Posts Tagged ‘King Arthur’

It is always intriguing when I walk groups through the Self-Care Coaching Wheel as inevitably I know there is a portion that will trip people up and cause unnecessary consternation despite our enlightened times. It is the concept of spirituality. It can be a stumbling block to be ignored, due to the fact we jump to definitional conclusions. Either fully structured religion, which most carry the stereotypes (quite a few well earned) from the extremist or fundamentalist sects or, the flip, where the idea of spirituality moves into the more extreme new agey style concepts. Neither are beneficial, though both may be a part of someone’s spiritual life as with everything in between both extremes. What this area speaks to is the intrinsic things one does, that renews them. An example I use to open up the creative exploration of the intrinsic renewal is the idea of story, and usually share the latest fiction I am reading–this time around my Whovian was showing:

The Tenth Doctor and Donna travel through the story of Camelot…

And boy was this a great time of renewal, a fun adventure, Donna Noble was one of the companions that does not get the kudos deserved for the fun she brought to the adventures, but this book felt like seeing an episode, but I digress for it opened up the story of Arthur and his Knights once more to me. An amusing aside, through genealogy in the Welsh side of my family lineage goes back to Moroccan royalty, a one Uther PenDragon, which if you had an awesome Dad like I did growing up who would tape late night movies he thought his kids would like, would have known Uther as Arthur’s Dad, thanks to the amazing sword and sorcery fun of Excalibur:

Epic Climatic Battle of Arthur and Mordred

But there is more links to this story and life impact. See in elementary school I had a speech therapist (which was fun, also uniquely, was my Nan & Granddad’s neighbour’s daughter), and as such I didn’t always like to read aloud in class, I usually would take the same books out of the school library, as then if I had to, I knew them well (at home I’d read anything, my folks always made sure we got to the library and used bookstores). One school library trip I found a rather large book, King Arthur and His Knights, and was refused from signing it out because it was beyond me, I was 7 or 8 at the time.

I was not happy, and shared with my Mum and Dad at supper, and after dinner, my Dad took me to the mall and the bookstore there, probably a WHSmithbooks in that time (this was back in the era dear readers when all malls had bookstores, that had diversity of books available). There he found and bought a rather thick hardcover book for me to take to school for reading and for the next book report:

So yes, having folks who believe in you, and encourage you to challenge and grow is a good thing in life. Taking a risk, and not accepting the limits others place upon you.

The story of magic and adventure resonated. Things that have growtn out of there in my own life-

The first Vacation Bible School (VBS) I was part of planning and facilitating we had group time in the sanctuary, where I moved out all the chairs and with masking tape created a roundtable on the floor, as the equality that all belonged, all opinions and ideas mattered–all God’s kids belonged together. This gathering space became important for volunteers and families to share in, as my first VBS was during the time of the Pinelake Tornado in Alberta.

Magic happens, and is real (like I tell my kids, and my Mum told us growing up, if you do not believe, Santa and the Easter Bunny don’t visit 🙂 because why can’t we allow for magic and fun in life).

Purpose matters. The various stories of the knights told of purpose, many times not tied to money, but rather who and what was meant to happen. This has been an important growth within my practice, that purpose and job are not mutually exclusive.

The Holy Grail, what a fun winding story. For those who enjoy deutero-canonical-apocryphal-Gnostic Christian writings, know that the Grail (and a nod to Dan Brown for riveting mystery in Da Vinci Code, and Garth Ennis for the satire horror in The Preacher) speaks possibly to the blood line of Jesus, son of Mary, of Nazareth. The growth of the idea being Jesus and Mary Magdalene married and had a family (Kazanzakis’ The Last Temptation of Christ explored alterantive ideas of what if Jesus did not go to the Cross, but I digress–as you can see being encouraged to be curious, to read, and explore does a mind good from a young age). Some have said the concept of Jesus being married is heresy, though one has to ask, for someone completely humna, and completely divine does it change your faith if he was also a Dad?

There is also ideas around immortality being tied to a physical cup that Jesus used to serve the institution of the Eucharist/Communion. This concept, that grew into the history of the Grail Knights was explored in the film, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (almost 40 year old spoiler ahead):

The concept of the hero’s quest, many concepts immortalized for newer generations in the Star Wars universe. A constant reminder, that in our own personal stories, we are the hero on the journey, just an in other’s stories we are there supporting casts.

But purpose, belonging are themes that grow forward from Arthurian legends for me, with the intersection of how these stories came into my own life. The lived pieces and what it means to be a parent, a Dad.

Take time to pause each day, and feed the intrinsic pieces of you, renew, and reconnect with who you are.



The Original Star Trek in their second season about episode 14, Wolf in the Fold, did one about the ghost of Jack the Ripper still existing in the 23rd Century. A right old murder mystery in space. Why this thought flashes through Mystery’s mind.

Mystery’s eyes lock onto the prey only… she’s no longer there. “A mirage.” It comes out as a whispering hiss. How could he have missed that.  The Evil was not after another normal mortal but… “a supra.”  He whirls on his wing tips.

The fog turns to fire.

“Fuck me. I know this evil.”

The fog dissipates to show the prey unconscious on the ground. Her chest still slightly rising and falling. The Ancient Evil floats slightly above her. Speedster has been slowed to slow motion. A scythe. No. An arm. No, a psychic construct.

Mystery tries to form words, but something is stopping him from speaking. He flashes in his mind, get the hell out. And the only answer shaking through his brain is laughter.

Johnny Power lands behind the floating shadowy form.

Speedster goes from slow.

To fast.

To a blade slicing through her abdomen.

“No!” Power lunges at the form as his friend crumples gripping her stomach.

Mystery tries to move but the laughter gets louder. He holds the sides of his head, doubling over in the air. Floating in the fetal position.

The form whirls.

Power’s fist stops just short of the face.

He tries to punch forward.

But can’t move.

A cackle.

The shadows fall away from the head. Crimson read hair cascades down.

She smiles. “You look like him.”

Johnny Power looks at her. He feels something twisting around his neck and head. He scrambles to grip around whatever is holding him. He feels the panic rising MacKay had not covered this in training, what to do when you are battling something completely invisible.

The green flames still engulf the ground around the form.

Green flames peter out in the Ashram. Susan stands staring unable to articulate what she just saw.

        Rick side steps. Both his hands grip the helmet. He looks in the fluid motion right at Susan. “Remember I love you and I will be back.”

The helmet rips off and green flame envelops Rick and the Knight.

MacKay pushes himself back up to standing. He looks at a shaking Susan who motions for him to stay put. Zed walks up to her. “Susan, I think—“

Her fist squarely slammed into the bridge of the alien immortal entity’s nose causing both eyes to burst out with purple red bruising already rising as he crumples unconscious to the ground.

Just behind her green flame erupts up ward blasting two holes: one in the floor, one in the roof.

Susan hears Rick’s voice.

“I will be back. I promise. I love you.”

She feels the heat. Turns and it is all gone.

The look on MacKay’s face states he saw the flames too. A radio crackles in the background of the Ashram. Breaking news about the losing battle.

“We have to go.” MacKay and Susan head out of the Ashram. She silently wonders to herself if they can be faster than fire, but the thoughts rolling in her mind. Rick and her broke the Camelot curse, because she did not fall for his friend, which meant that Camelot could fall, Arthur and Lancelot could finally be at peace.


The green flame beneath the floating shadow woman’s feet implodes. Then explodes upwards.

Power collapses on the ground gasping for air, but still alive.

Mystery falls from the sky, he feels his shoulder pop out of place. But the laughter is over.

The shadow woman lands hard on the asphalt.

The shimmering gold armour. Excalibur drawn.

“Ripper.” The immortal entity that was Jack the Ripper. Rick had done battle with it many times, each time it would body jump, he had never confronted the true entity with a chance to put it to rest, finally exorcise it from reality. But with how this ancient evil had haunted his career, it finally made sense.

Mystery stumbles up to his feet. He looks at the Bionic Knight. “Think it through B.K., much more than the first serial killer reincarnated.” Mystery said. A telekinetic blast sends Mystery flipping .

“Silence.” Ripper said.

The Bionic Knight raises Excalibur and looks at her. His mind races, it makes sense now, the ancient evil clicking together as he had stated earlier. “It was always you. Trying to ensure misery always followed the Pendragon. Like the sober addict’s friends from the days of usage dragging them back. Misery loves company. Isn’t that right Queen Guinevere?”

The shadow form lets out a maniacal laugh. The green flames shoot out around her.

Rick feels the heat within the armour. His sweat stings his eyes as he lands in front of Guinevere. She smiles at him. “Ah Arthur you are right. I should have always just killed you myself.”

“Except Arthur is already dead. I am Rick.”

Green flame shoots from her hands, forms into a spear.

Rick screams as the flame spear tears through his armour and lifts him off the ground.

When he hears her voice.

“Bitch drop him or I swear this 12 gauge is going through you.” Susan said.

To Be Continued…




…Before I stand in an empty white void.

Okay something is terribly tripping weird. The flap of
feathers and a Robin lands on my shoulder. “Uther, I told you a new guide would

“I am Uther.” Wait, back up, that was supposed to be I’m
not Uther. Yet it came out that way. The white void is being filled in. The
stereotypical fantasy novel tavern setting. I feel the chair form underneath
me, as I move to a seated position. The Robin is flying around the tavern
trying to appear non-chalant. This is the weirdest vision quest I have ever
been a part of. Okay so it is the only vision quest I have ever been a part of,
but still.

Why would I be here?

“So that hopefully you will
be listening with your true essence and not just your human ears.” The Gray has
returned to the scene. Great, now not only am I followed by a talking Robin,
add to the hallucinations a talking alien. When did my life get so messed up? “About
17 years ago Uther, when you triggered your true self by taking on the gem.”

“My true self? What the hell does that mean?”

The Robin lands on my shoulder, “it means you stop
running from who you truly are. The king that unified the tribes of old, laid
the foundation stones for Camelot.”

Great now the bird thinks I actually want this trip, when
all I want is to be back home. Alone. No not alone, with Susan, my true love.
Since our first kiss all the way back in pre-school. Yup we are that lame.

I feel the laminate smack against my face. What the?
Laminate, rolled off a cushioned pew. I’m in Susan’s chapel. The lone candle is
flickering in the darkness, what is it she calls it? The Christ Candle, how we
centre on the divine within each one of us.    The
flame is dancing, lilting, the puffs of smoke seem to be creating a shape…a
griffin’s head with a mangled arm inside…the sign of the Lewis Family, the
coat of arms that dates back to the time of Uther PenDragon. My chest burns,
the gem is glowing hot in response.

Standing alone in the chapel there is a crack of thunder
and a flash of lightning that illuminates the area. An ankh hangs. Let me
remember my ancient mythologies class, it was actually a symbol adopted by
Coptic Christianity, but there was a deeper meaning within it…renewal of
life. That was the symbol the renewal of life.

I run my hand over the jade artwork. Interesting that I
should see this now, another flash of illumination. Grit my teeth as my gem
burns my chest, my left eye locks on the ankh glowing hot…a flash…

Breath slows. Body temperature lowers. Some say you
should visualize electric lights, others a restful time in a park or forest.
Myself, I choose simply to rest in the void of nothingness. To experience the
bodily sensations of slowing my breathing, deep breathing through my diaphragm,
it is the quiet still moments after epicness when I need my center the most.

Flip down my hood and let the rain drizzle onto my
whiskered scalp as I lower into a lotus position, yes there is drying blood on
my arm and leg, I feel the bruise forming on my right cheek and the blood drip
slowly from my left ear where the ring was ripped out. Getting to old for these
moments, pre-meditation moments when I battle some death defying world saving
endeavour. Herne said it was the moments before and after combat when it was
most important to be centered and rested. This battle had been sprung on me,
who would have thought that would have been possible.

The robin lands on the roof ledge and looks at me. “Rick”
Yep back to normal the animals are talking to me. My spirit animal, at least
one of them, is a robin. Some would say what a lame animal, but really they are
quite industrious, territorial and protective.

Kind of like me. “Robin, long time.”

“You have been not seeking
us as of late.” This is true, Herne my monastic mentor had recently ascended
into Nirvana and I did not feel the need to be connected with the spirit quest
anymore. The amulet glows warm against my heart, it had bonded to my chest 26
years ago during a peace march in elementary school to ward off nuclear war,
but never emerged until my teen years. The jade stone is shaped like a dragon
head and the lore says it was the same amulet that Uther Pendragon wore when he
unified the tribes of Wales. Great power courses through it, giving me the
strength of 10 men, ability to levitate, allows me to heal quickly, be
empathic, and to move with supernatural speed and agility.

It is the PenDragon stone, and yes that is the name I
took as a hero, for a time it would wrap me in full armour and the media took
to calling me the Bionic Knight, but as I aged the amulet just became more and
more one with me, until my abilities became inherent to my person, so now I
simply carry a luchadore style mask to usually pull on, but tonight there was
not time.

“Herne is gone, but another will arise to guide you.”

“Okay, hate to break this to
you Robin, I’ve been dancing this dance for 18 years now, battling my villains,
new and old, protecting this city, Camelot[1], and all I get is more and
more aches.”

Robin swooped up. “Another guide is awaiting you, Uther
Pendragon.” Damn stupid bird, I am not Uther, the name is Richard Leighton
Wales, my spirit animal keeps trying to convince me that I am the reincarnation
of King Uther, who came through Morocco to unite the tribes way back when, the
pre-cursor to the Arthur Legend. I don’t believe in reincarnation, actually to
be honest I don’t believe in most of this crap that has become my life yet
perhaps I am just a little too nice as I keep going with the flow. But then we
do need to save the world.

Rise from the lotus, and descend from the roof of the
building into the alleyway. Need to start keeping the mask in the back pocket
again. Believed my days were done with the new hero in town, young hot shot.
Yet here I am unable to pass the torch in spite of there being a newly arisen

A brisk walk to catch the bus home. Camelot has been
quieter for the last year, but having taking out the psychotic clown, actually
it was a temporal loop that had brought the son of Medusa and Zeus forward in
time when I was 18, but the one that had taken the name Death Face fell to his
death at the fish hatchery, I tried to stop him to actually bring him to
justice…it was that last big case where Herne vanished. The rumour was
ascension, full actualization of the soul. Where it left me was a year
searching my soul about whether or not I was the hero I always said I was, or
if I had actually let D.F. die, I pray to that deity I do not want to believe
in that I am not that callous in regards to human life.

The store front is for a Spiritualist store, my life
partner, Susan Damascus, she who believes the hooky that I wish to keep away,
our small apartment is in back of the shop and on the other side of the store
is the chapel space and office, she offers services for a movement called
Unity, it is part of New Thought or something like that one day I should really
pay attention when I am sitting there on a Sunday morning.

She’s asleep on the couch, the television is droning
silently on the blue screen when a DVD stops playing, laying across her is Eric
Butterworth’s Break the Ten Commandments.
I kiss her lightly on the forehead.

“You stink, go shower.” Not even a kiss back just being
ushered out of the living room. Since the analog signals died on the Canadian
airwaves we have been without “television” but have enjoyed CBC news radio, and
being our own network thanks to the public library. Currently working our way
through Lexx, Little Mosque on the Prairie, and Stargate: Atlantis. The new guy
in the city reminds me of Ronin a little, big, strong, silent and, as I step
into the washroom today’s Metro is by the toilet, front page: MYSTERY MAN KILLS
3 ROBBERS what?!

A picture of the city’s new hero, the media has yet to
dub him. He has at least a foot and a half on me and at least 150 lbs, of
ripped muscle. Cascading long hair, beard and has slaughtered 3. I know he has
taken a rougher approach than I have in dealing with the criminal element,
severely hurting and/or crippling individuals, but murder? Even if they are
robbers, that is uncalled for.

I scan the article the three are believed to have been
the local bank robbers within the city who had already robbed 14 banks,
injuring two. They had entered what was to be their fifteenth bank when
the…Reaper…catchy name, killed them and left after decapitating each one
and mounting their heads on make shift pikes along the bank tellers bench.

I slump against the bathroom wall. Maybe this year of
lying low had been a bad idea. The new protector of the city was far from
heroic. He was taking the easy way out; much like the death penalty takes the
easy way out. The article asks if this slaughter will be a deterrent, and it is
already proven that capital punishment deters nothing it just escalates the
violence level.

This city is about to come unglued.

The hot water hits my back
and feels good, the muscles start to unwind. The blood rinses off with ease,
the cuts aren’t as deep as first thought and already starting to heal, my
amulet is glowing duller than it has before could it be reacting to my more
dull mood? Or is it seeking a new owner?

Towel off and pull on Mighty Thor pyjama pants and a
Camelot Lancers hockey jersey from the Alberta Junior Hockey League, our team
that we take in every chance we get. As PenDragon I had actually been invited
to drop the seasoning opening puck on five different occasions.

Susan is sleeping quietly
having already transferred to the bedroom. Why so ear—ah the clock is flashing
1:00 a.m., on my bedside table a flyer with today’s date and…shit…it was
her first night of the Basics of New Thought, I told her I would be there, and
instead I was stopping—can’t even remember the guys name. Some third rate
villain that the newbie could’ve taken out (quite literally unfortunately). I
am a supreme bonehead with that play.

I kiss her shoulder gently and she shrugs away from me.
Okay, couch time it is. I move to the living room. Click on the television and
the DVD let’s see what she was watching. What
the Bleep do we know?
Starts playing. Hmmm… She had just purchased this
for a movie and potluck night probably watching it first to see if there were
any good topics she should be good to draw out of it.

I stifle a yawn…

screen is suddenly blue again stating the Sony logo. The couch is lumpy and,
why is there a Grey standing before me. A little alien. “Hello PenDragon.”

            “Who are you, where am I?”

a journey, you see you are fighting against the flow of a mighty river in your

            Fighting against the flow of a
mighty river, what is this wonky alien talking about? I am going with the flow.

            “No, you are hiding from the Source
of all that is, the Source that exists within you and all around you, and that
everything exists within as well.”  The
room is shifting and flowing around me.
We are now in the midst  of what
appears to be a typical Alberta farm, standing by a well. The Gray is standing
there with a cup of water, doesn’t he know you can light that stuff on fire
here. “I assure you it is safe to drink, it is the living water.”

            “Look Mr. Spock, I don’t know what
you may have heard, but I left that Christian crap behind, they are an abusive

not get the message confused with the messenger. Do not get the river confused
with the well.”

            The cup is in my hand, it is
wonderfully cold as I feel the heat beating down on me as the farm melts away.
I stand in a desert. This is trippy weird. Weird like how my friends in high
school described the green alien guys in Toy Story when they dropped cartoon
acid before going into the $1 theatre to watch it.

            But I am thirsty. Where is The Gray.
I take a sip…

 The floor is harder than I remember. My eyes
focus on the television as I watch water react emotionally. Where…I am home.
That was weird. My amulet is glowing brightly.

“Rick! Turn the fucking light off!”

“Power down.” Say it, think
it, nothing the stone won’t stop glowing what is happening. I see Susan step
into the living room and gasp as I feel myself tingle away.

“Ric—“ is the last thing I hear. . .

Camelot is located 80 km NE of Calgary, AB