Normandi Ellis's Blog

As a ceremonialist, I love to invoke the archangels. Sometimes I add to this ceremony the invocation of Egyptian goddesses, which is also a part of my training as a priestess of Isis. Rev. A. Win Srogi taught me this way to invoke the energies to participate in the cocreation of a sacred becoming. Before any ceremony, I use my index finger to imagine a blue flame emerging from my fingertip. Keeping constant mental focus, I walk around the perimeter of the room, drawing a sacred fire about me and the place where I will do my work. Everything begins in the East where the sun rises. Moving counterclockwise to the South, to the West, to the North, and back to the East, I visualize the sacred protection of divine light. The circle always concludes in the East. Now the invocation can begin. If you will, visualize the East, or face East. Visualize sunlight at the break of day, the green, healing energy of a forest. The yellow sunlight moves between the trees, over and across the horizon, flowing toward your feet. Standing before a yellow door, you knock or ring a bell, calling the archangel Raphael. “Ra-phi-a-El!” you call. “Oh, mighty Raphael, archangel and light of the East, bringer of springtime, guardian of the air and clouds, the blue sky, the winged ones, we welcome your new beginning. You bring the healing sunlight with you. You awaken us from death and sleep. Bless our endeavors this day and every day of our lives. Help us to see the new day possibilities as we begin a new chapter in our lives. “We thank you for your presence in our lives.” Archangel Michael 2018 - Figurative Religious Oil Painting - Fine Arts ...Now turn to the South and visualize the risen sun high in the sky at noon. Feel its heat upon your forehead as if you were a tall sunflower reaching up to the light. You offer your fullness to the world. This is the blessed place of summer, the busy-ness of our spiritual lives. And a red door appears. You knock or ring the bell, calling for the Archangel Michael. “Mi-ki-a-El!  “Oh, mighty Michael, Archangel of fire, dragons, and creatures of heat, guardian of the South, you bring us strength and courage to do the mighty work of the Creator. You fortify our will to do good and to give service. Bless us as we go about your sacred business, protect, and shield us with your wings. Bring up our passion to cocreate a world we shall live in with joy and vigor. We will ourselves to do the will of the Great One. “We thank you for your presence in our lives.  Now turn toward or visualize the West. See the close of day. See the brilliant orange, purple, and rose colors of sunset. You can hear ocean waves lapping on a nearby shore. The blue door of heaven appears on the horizon. Knock or ring the bell, calling for the Archangel Gabriel. “Ga-bra-a-El! “Oh, mighty Archangel Gabriel, protector of the Western gate, champion of the finned creatures, the fish, the dolphins, whales, and all things of the sea, we welcome you into our lives. You are the mighty messenger of transformation. Wash away our recalcitrance and stubbornness, our clinging to the past into that which no longer serves us. Cleanse and heal us so that in drawing closer to the source of life eternal, we are blessed and made whole. Awaken in us the possibility of renewal of our sacred purpose. “We thank you for your presence in our lives.” Now, turn to face the North and visualize a brilliant night sky. As if you had climbed to the top of a mountain to stand beneath the vault of heaven, you are enveloped in innumerable stars. This is the place of crystals and the solid earth that sustains us. Visualize a door opening in the Sky and a ladder descending from the height of heaven to touch the earth at your feet. A brilliant star appears. Knock on the door or ring a bell, calling for the Archangel Uriel. “OO-rye-a-El! ‘Almighty and most high Archangel Uriel, guardian of the North and leader of all the angels of heaven more numerous than the stars, we invite the mystery of your presence into our lives as we speak and work as spiritual lights in concert with the prophets, the ascended Masters, the devata, and angels. We invoke the holiness of your being to enlighten us, to guide us, to inspire us, and to draw us in closer to an eternal relationship with Creative Power of the Universe, and its manifestation on Earth and in all things of earth. “Thank you for being a powerful presence and witness to this sacred moment of our lives.” After you have invoked the four archangels of the directions returned to face the East, then bow. When the time comes to release the archangels, simply return to the East again, say the angel’s name, and thank them for attending your ceremony. To conclude, repeat this ending sentence. "Go in love and peace, blessing all along the way.” You may now open the circle by opening pointing to the earth, drawing the energy up, and opening your hands over your head.

 

If you are interested email me at ellisisis@gmail.com.If you are seeing this message, you have not missed the opportunity to join, but the first lass begins July 21.

IMy intention is to publish to my Patreon for subscribers, my reading of original poetry. This first video is free. And here it is. I hope you can support my work by subscribing. There are free pages there for some of my writing, but a simple sign up for $5 a month will give you access to all of my work in creative writing, in astrological teaching, in nonfiction essay, and in memoir that has appeared on the Patreon.

 I ask this favor in deep, deep appreciation. If you have read this far, if you have seen my Facebook page, you know that I normally do not post personal things, but these last few years I have been faced with significant health challenges that created serious financial challenges. It is with deep appreciation to all my friends, to all my readers, that I say Thank you for reading my work over the years, for writing to me and for supporting me. I love you immeasurably. 

 https://youtu.be/FiSTPR39OhY

 We are making a list and checking it twice for YEAR 2 Classes:

$80 per class 8-10. Classes are recorded and sent out by prepayment and by request.TAKE NOTE Dec 2, 9, & 16 Ancient Books of the Afterlife with the Academy of Oracle ArtsDec 14 Tapping into Hieroglyphic Oracles with The Theosophical Society Dec 28 Night of the Mothers Journal Retrospective 12-6pm ($90) Online Elective Class in Spiritual JournalingJan 17 & 4 SACRED CALENDARMar 10 & 17 MOON MAGIC (Mondays)Apr 15 & 22 ASTROLOGYMay 13 & 20 DREAMWORKJune 3 & 10 INVOCATION AND PRAYERJuly 1 & 8 NUMEROLOGYMar 04 & 11 MOON MAGIC19 BUILDING YOUR ADYTUM ($160) [image error][image error]All reactions:3Noemí Santiago and 2 others

     Things change. No matter how we fight them, we find that leaning into the painful change allows us to open to new heights. I have moved from Camp Chesterfield, a community I dearly loved, and I am living now in Kentucky--the place of my birth, nestled between its green grasses and hills like a soft, firry animal finding a comfortable lap. I am home.

   Here is where I spent my days and a few evenings, writing--and waiting for friends to come to write with me, to study mystical texts with me, to smile, to remember and to spin a few yarns. Please contact me. Message me on FB and let's get together to share tea, coffee, memoirs. I love how you stay in my memory and my heart. I call you forth.

Announcing my new book THE ANCIENT TRADITION OF ANGELS by participating in this remarkable conferane on the Unseen. It's time.

You can feel the energy changing these days in a multitude of ways. In these transitional times, which also hold great potential for transformation and the awakening of our individual and collective consciousness, messages from the unseen world have never been more available to us – or more valuable.

 

With the world at a choice point, our ability to connect and work with the unseen is one of the most essential skills we will need to root us in our authentic power, support our expansion, remember who we really are as divine humans, and help birth the New Earth.  

 

That’s why I’m so delighted to be one of the presenters at Exploring the Unseen: Unlocking the Secrets of the Non-Material World [https://bit.ly/ExploringtheUnseen-Nor...], an online event and retreat April 23rd to 29th, 2023.

Through discussion, experiential practices, ceremony, and activations, you’ll explore and deepen your noticing, listening, receptivity, and discernment on a journey through the non-material world of multidimensional consciousness, dreams, the Akashic records, angels, guides, nature spirits, mediumship, the ancestors, and much more. 

 

This unique global event, co-hosted by my colleagues, Leslie Zehr (The Universal Dancer) and Keren Brown (WiseWoman Leading), will be live-streamed and interactive, including special opening and closing ceremonies direct from the island of O’ahu.

What might you gain from the Exploring the Unseen Conference, where you can 

Deepen your access to the non-material world to expand your consciousness

Enhance your connection to the unseen world

Exploring the many ways to enter the unseen realm – and find out why it matters

Expand your multidimensional awareness to stay grounded and in your power

Strengthening your connection to the unseen as an essential skill for tumultuous times

Enhancing your ability to connect with the unseen: your best superpower in uncertain times

Remember who you truly are in uncertain times

Joining other cosmic visionaries, pioneers, authors, guides, and teachers, I will be speaking about [Angels, Neteru and Divine Messengers] on [April 26, @ 10 am ].

 

This retreat will help you:

 

·  Access deeper wisdom, clarity, and knowing so all areas of your life can flow with more ease and grace

·  Trust your intuition and guidance more than ever before

·  Stay more rooted, centered, calm, and focused, even in the midst of external challenges

·  Connect you to a deeper sense of meaning and purpose so you can be the change

 

This promises to be a profound and transformational event and I look forward to connecting with you there!

 

To claim your spot, register here [https://bit.ly/ExploringtheUnseen-Nor...

 

P.S. And please share the love! If you would share this with others you know, that would be wonderful. Send them to this link to register [https://bit.ly/ExploringtheUnseen-Nor...] and enjoy the event experience with a friend.Attendance is free!

(Or What's a Nice Southern Girl Like You Doing in a Place Like This?)When you live in the setting of a potential novel, say a magical and mysterious place like Camp Chesterfield--a place where the Spirits stand so close you can feel their breath on your skin, it's not unusual to be asked a question like, "So how did you get here? And what made you want to live here?" First, let me clarify, I actually like the feel of Spirit close by me, close as the dewy damp autumn fog of today, a palpable coolness that feels like a hug. Some of my favorite times to walk the grounds are when no one else is out--night time or early morning.

But I digress.  I was asked what brought me here.

Well, you see for nearly a decade before I arrived I was writing a novel --and I still haven't finished it-- about my great Aunt Arzelia Ransdall, Daddy's aunt who lived in Kentucky and was a medium. She trained at Camp Chesterfield. Daddy told endless stories about her boarding the train in Louisville and standing on the platform of the final train car in her fox furs, waving dramatically to her husband and children, "Goodbye! Goodbye!" she called, waving a hankie as if she was never coming back. Of course, she didn't need those fox furs. It was May and already getting warm. 

She rode the train all the way to Chesterfield, got off at the train station (where Jazzi's Flower Shop is now and the old depot has fallen down over the last years). She had her steamer trunk hoisted onto a horse-drawn wagon as if she were crossing the Great Plains in search of new prospects and life adventures.. Actually the wagon only pulled Arzelia and her companions about six blocks down the street, through the iron gate into Camp Chesterfield. One of the attending drivers probably carried her trunk into her room in either the Lily Hotel (now gone) or the Sunflower.  

I heard these stories throughout my life. There were many tales of Arzelia's adventures as a medium. I remember stories of, the spirits of her lost children banging their silver spoons on the trays of their high chairs in the kitchen, how the ghosts that visited her seances tipped the tables, and then there were the ones who woke up Arzelia's house guests with messages of hope from beyond the veil. Of course, when you are trying to sleep and not expecting a ghost (as my mother was not--and she had quite a story to tell about her nephew Billy)... well, even a message of hope or an answer to a prayer from beyond was enough to scare the Bejeezus out of anybody.  (Bejeezus is a reverential Southernism, I'm sure.)

Yes, I heard a novel's worth of stories about Camp Chesterfield, and so one deep, snowy January day my husband and I decided for some reason to drive four hours north in the snow. I wanted an adventure and I came to Chesterfield in search of someone who might have heard of my Aunt Arzelia. I'm not even sure what I expected, but at that time the Western Hotel was open and Rev. Mary Beth Hattaway smiled so sweetly at me. "Oh, how wonderful to see you and all of your people!" she said. And even though I wasn't sure what it meant to walk through the hotel door with all of my people then, well, I just felt overjoyed with her very Southern drawl and her smile and twinkling eyes. I exchanged some money for a room with steam heat that was fogging up the windows. 

When I asked where I might find the oldest medium who lived on the grounds and might know of my great aunt, she directed me down the street to an elderly lady of about 97 or so. "Don't be fooled," she advised me. She's still pretty sharp." So I trudged down the Western Avenue to Emma Kruger's house. Yes, she was wonderfully colorful, novel-worthy in fact. I sat and talked with her for about two hours, asking all kinds of questions, such as "How did a nice German lady like yourself come to Chesterfield?" And "Have you always been a medium?"  And other things. She kept trying to give me a reading, telling me about all my people who were standing around me, even though I assured her I had only come to find out about Camp Chesterfield itself and perhaps my aunt's time there.

"And did you live here in the 1950s and 60s?" I asked. "What was it like then?"

She said, "There is someone around you who likes fish.  Do you know someone who likes fish?"

"Maybe," I answered. "I have a lot of Catholic relatives. They eat a lot of fish."

She seemed very nice, not at all put out with me, even though she'd been sitting in her wheelchair for several hours and the television was still rumbling on with some game show in the background. I asked her about her studies there at Chesterfield and what was a platform dress.  I'd heard my Aunt spent a lot of money on her rhinestone dresses, her long white gloves, her shiny black button-up ankle boots. My father was fascinated with my aunt's apparel, for some reason.

"Is there someone around you who likes beer?" Emma asked. "I am sure there is someone around you who just loved his beer. Is it your father?"

"No. My father drank vodka and whisky. My grandfather maybe. He liked his Oertel's 92."

"Me too. I like Oertel's 92," she said.

I'm pretty thick sometimes, but the right question to ask finally hit me like a ton of bricks. "Have you eaten yet today? It's after one o'clock and I've kept you from your lunch."  She said the Meals on Wheels didn't come on Saturdays so she was used to going without lunch. I told her I would go and get her some lunch. "What would you like?"

"A fish sandwich," she said. "And a beer. I'd like a 32-ounce beer," she said. "I've run out and there's none in the refrigerator."

Sure, I said. I'll be right back. And it took about 30 minutes. She ate happily, wheeling herself up to the TV table I found and set in front of her.  Between bites she wanted to tell me about my people, but for some reason if it wasn't about Arzelia, I wasn't interested. Anyway, I hadn't come for a reading.  When I left she was happily sucking on her beer. That was probably not a good thing for me to have left her alone with that beer and other obvious way to dispose of it. I didn't know her daughter didn't like her to have beer.

So I came to Camp Chesterfield to research a novel, to indulge myself in the sensory delights of the past--the sound of a train whistle in the middle of the night, steam pipes knocking, footsteps in the hallway. Wait--! I thought we were the only guests at the hotel! I kept coming back. I started taking classes. I regaled my writing friends in Kentucky with stories of Arzelia and I kept trying to find her factual footprints in the memories of the old mediums and the half-disintegrating hotel registers in the museum.

Finally, I just moved here. I took classes and love it. I developed some really sweet relationships with the people living here, and a few who had passed over, but stayed on in spirit. Some days when the COVID seeps underground and we mediums can return to the platform, you will find me here, standing where my Aunt Arzelia once stood probably. In the meantime, however, I'll be Zooming online to a Message Service near you, or appearing on the roster for the Midwest Mediumship Conference in October. I hope you come to love Camp Chesterfield as much as I have.

And if you've read all the way to the end of this, and you happen to be a publisher, literary agent, or movie producer, I have stories you wouldn't believe. That novel is still open for takers.

  When you live in the setting of a potential novel, say a magical and mysterious place like Camp Chesterfield--a place where the Spirits stand so close you can feel their breath on your skin, it's not unusual to be asked a question like, "So how did you get here? And what made you want to live here?" First, let me clarify, I actually like the feel of Spirit close by me, close as the dewy damp autumn fog of today, a palpable coolness that feels like a hug. Some of my favorite times to walk the grounds are when no one else is out--night time or early morning.

But I digress.  I was asked what brought me here.

Well, you see for nearly a decade before I arrived I was writing a novel --and I still haven't finished it-- about my great Aunt Arzelia Ransdall, Daddy's aunt who lived in Kentucky and was a medium. She trained at Camp Chesterfield. Daddy told endless stories about her boarding the train in Louisville and standing on the platform of the final train car in her fox furs, waving dramatically to her husband and children, "Goodbye! Goodbye!" she called, waving a hankie as if she was never coming back. Of course, she didn't need those fox furs. It was May and already getting warm. 

She rode the train all the way to Chesterfield, got off at the train station (where Jazzi's Flower Shop is now and the old depot has fallen down over the last years). She had her steamer trunk hoisted onto a horse-drawn wagon as if she were crossing the Great Plains in search of new prospects and life adventures.. Actually the wagon only pulled Arzelia and her companions about six blocks down the street, through the iron gate into Camp Chesterfield. One of the attending drivers probably carried her trunk into her room in either the Lily Hotel (now gone) or the Sunflower.  

I heard these stories throughout my life. There were many tales of Arzelia's adventures as a medium. I remember stories of, the spirits of her lost children banging their silver spoons on the trays of their high chairs in the kitchen, how the ghosts that visited her seances tipped the tables, and then there were the ones who woke up Arzelia's house guests with messages of hope from beyond the veil. Of course, when you are trying to sleep and not expecting a ghost (as my mother was not--and she had quite a story to tell about her nephew Billy)... well, even a message of hope or an answer to a prayer from beyond was enough to scare the Bejeezus out of anybody.  (Bejeezus is a reverential Southernism, I'm sure.)

Yes, I heard a novel's worth of stories about Camp Chesterfield, and so one deep, snowy January day my husband and I decided for some reason to drive four hours north in the snow. I wanted an adventure and I came to Chesterfield in search of someone who might have heard of my Aunt Arzelia. I'm not even sure what I expected, but at that time the Western Hotel was open and Rev. Mary Beth Hattaway smiled so sweetly at me. "Oh, how wonderful to see you and all of your people!" she said. And even though I wasn't sure what it meant to walk through the hotel door with all of my people then, well, I just felt overjoyed with her very Southern drawl and her smile and twinkling eyes. I exchanged some money for a room with steam heat that was fogging up the windows. 

When I asked where I might find the oldest medium who lived on the grounds and might know of my great aunt, she directed me down the street to an elderly lady of about 97 or so. "Don't be fooled," she advised me. She's still pretty sharp." So I trudged down the Western Avenue to Emma Kruger's house. Yes, she was wonderfully colorful, novel-worthy in fact. I sat and talked with her for about two hours, asking all kinds of questions, such as "How did a nice German lady like yourself come to Chesterfield?" And "Have you always been a medium?"  And other things. She kept trying to give me a reading, telling me about all my people who were standing around me, even though I assured her I had only come to find out about Camp Chesterfield itself and perhaps my aunt's time there.

"And did you live here in the 1950s and 60s?" I asked. "What was it like then?"

She said, "There is someone around you who likes fish.  Do you know someone who likes fish?"

"Maybe," I answered. "I have a lot of Catholic relatives. They eat a lot of fish."

She seemed very nice, not at all put out with me, even though she'd been sitting in her wheelchair for several hours and the television was still rumbling on with some game show in the background. I asked her about her studies there at Chesterfield and what was a platform dress.  I'd heard my Aunt spent a lot of money on her rhinestone dresses, her long white gloves, her shiny black button-up ankle boots. My father was fascinated with my aunt's apparel, for some reason.

"Is there someone around you who likes beer?" Emma asked. "I am sure there is someone around you who just loved his beer. Is it your father?"

"No. My father drank vodka and whisky. My grandfather maybe. He liked his Oertel's 92."

"Me too. I like Oertel's 92," she said.

I'm pretty thick sometimes, but the right question to ask finally hit me like a ton of bricks. "Have you eaten yet today? It's after one o'clock and I've kept you from your lunch."  She said the Meals on Wheels didn't come on Saturdays so she was used to going without lunch. I told her I would go and get her some lunch. "What would you like?"

"A fish sandwich," she said. "And a beer. I'd like a 32-ounce beer," she said. "I've run out and there's none in the refrigerator."

Sure, I said. I'll be right back. And it took about 30 minutes. She ate happily, wheeling herself up to the TV table I found and set in front of her.  Between bites she wanted to tell me about my people, but for some reason if it wasn't about Arzelia, I wasn't interested. Anyway, I hadn't come for a reading.  When I left she was happily sucking on her beer. That was probably not a good thing for me to have left her alone with that beer and other obvious way to dispose of it. I didn't know her daughter didn't like her to have beer.

So I came to Camp Chesterfield to research a novel, to indulge myself in the sensory delights of the past--the sound of a train whistle in the middle of the night, steam pipes knocking, footsteps in the hallway. Wait--! I thought we were the only guests at the hotel! I kept coming back. I started taking classes. I regaled my writing friends in Kentucky with stories of Arzelia and I kept trying to find her factual footprints in the memories of the old mediums and the half-disintegrating hotel registers in the museum.

Finally, I just moved here. I took classes and love it. I developed some really sweet relationships with the people living here, and a few who had passed over, but stayed on in spirit. Some days when the COVID seeps underground and we mediums can return to the platform, you will find me here, standing where my Aunt Arzelia once stood probably. In the meantime, however, I'll be Zooming online to a Message Service near you, or appearing on the roster for the Midwest Mediumship Conference in October. I hope you come to love Camp Chesterfield as much as I have.

And if you've read all the way to the end of this, and you happen to be a publisher, literary agent, or movie producer, I have stories you wouldn't believe. That novel is still open for takers.

I am waiting in the dark
like one ray of sunlight
Aten
ready to pop out
from behind this cloud.
I am morning
longing for bird song.

I am trillium
with my two budded
lips pursed
suckling cold dew
from the teat of morning.
I am worry, prayer
a trembling kiss.

I am the chattering
pink teeth mark of redbud
waiting to explode
along the arm of tree.
I am the green hearts
of leaves longing
for perfect light.

In a cold viral world
I cry: Wake me!
For goddess sake,
unmask the glory
the aching craving--
this falling in love
with the earth
burning in light.
--Normandi Ellis

Did you know Pythagoras--yeah, that ancient Greek guy who was responsible for your having to learn the Pythagorean theorem in high school geometry--spent 30 years tramping up and down the Nile, wandering around lost inside the temples of ancient Egypt, begging the old scribes and priests of Ptah and Thoth to teach him everything, or anything, or whatever they knew about magic, the heka of hieroglyphs and numbers.

EGYPT!
That's the source of all our mystical, magical numerology, as well as our geometry and alchemy.  It's a story of secrets and struggle and working against the odds to gain what our heart and mind --nay, our very soul!-- desires.
It's a story fit for a new year--this new year!

Our 2020 is going to be filled with amazing energy.  2+0+2+0 = the Master number 22, which is the foundation of Temple building. Have you been called to build your Temple yet? Do you know how to manifest the desires within yourself as you stand inside your holy of holies, that sacred ground of your spiritual and alchemical constellation?

This planet Earth is undergoing massive changes at the hand of the Divine that has cojoined with our human hands to implement The Great Work. This is the future we've been waiting for. We are entering the wave of the New Age.

Two is the number of partnership, and this year we enter the greatest partnership we can ever imagine, that of partnering with Cosmic Intelligence. Two plus two.  (Isis and Thoth.  You and me.) We stretch out our hands to touch the hands of the divine. That's four hands, folks!  We are linked in a great building partnership. It takes a lot of work, and a lot of love, and a lot of commitment to build this kind of energy to accomplish the Work at hand.

AND that God Force Energy is twice amplified by the repetition of the number Zero, the Ouroboros--the forcefield of creativity from beginning to end, spiraling over on itself, recombining beginning and end. I'd expect a radical re-shifting in your priorities from focus on the material world to amplified visioning in the spiritual world.

Which doesn't mean we will be getting off easy with 2020.  It is the year of the Master Builder. Perhaps you foresee big things in your life. Thoth and Isis, the Ascended Masters, the Daimon, the Angels of Your Higher Nature--call them what you will--are beside you all the way, ready to assist with the building of the staircase that leads to enlightenment. You are ready to set your new life in motion but remember it is a daily re-ignition of the dream that will keep you going. You can achieve whatever you wish, with a bit of angelic help. And a lot of human determination.

Keep lighting candles. Affirm your positive steps daily. Get out your day planner. Do the work. Be grateful you are here on this planet to do the work. It is a gift, an honor to be here, working elbow to elbow with the Gods, Goddesses, Angels, and Ascended Masters. Roll up your sleeves!!!

Let's go.


I have some 2020 news of my own. My new book Hieroglyphic Words of Power: 
 Symbols for Magic, Divination and Dreamwork will be coming out from Bear & Co in May 2020. You can order it here: 

https://www.innertraditions.com/hiero...

Its writing has been a labor of love for about 10 years, the same amount of time it took to write Awakening Osiris, which began my love affair with hieroglyphs and was published back in 1988. This new book explores why hieroglyphs have entranced  countless Egyptophiles like me throughout the centuries. Symbol and mythology, combined numerology and the pulse of vibration, the music of language... all moving together to create a kaleidoscope of meaning, layer upon layer.  I think you're gonna like it.

AND There is a deck of cards that can be bought separately to accommodate your interest in using the hieroglyphs in an oracular fashion. I've been doing readings with Egyptian hieroglyphs for about 5 years now. First, I made my own deck of cards, then started meditating with each one of them daily, using them in private readings.  After a while and some work with my guides, I was able to use them clairvoyantly from my public demonstrations at Camp Chesterfield. The book is a result of all those meditations and work.  You can make your own deck, but there is a beautiful ready to go deck called the Oracle of Seshet, which contains the beautiful photographs of hieroglyphs that A. Auset Rohn and I created after a trip through Egypt searching the temples for images that demonstrate the magic of the language. By the way, her photographs appear in the book as well.  And I would be remiss if I didn't mention that the handiwork of artist Lexy Hovis also graces the book so that you can draw the hieroglyphs is you like.  If you prefer to order a pre-made set to begin with, go to the bottom of the page here: http://www.thegoddessinside.com/must-...

In the early days of working with the hieroglyphs, I teemed up with Jean Houston to do some writing and editing in her book The Passion of Isis and Osiris. That followed the first tour I took in Egypt with her in 1992. For the last five years I have enjoyed traveling around the country teaching my classes in Hieroglyphic Words of Power and giving students the opportunity to learn hieroglyphic oracles by drawing their own cards on slips of papyri.  That's still a wonderful way to do it, but I now have included a deck of the same 60 hieroglyphic oracle cards in HiWoPo. They are called Seshet's Oracle, which can be.

So there's some of my new news.
Interested in studying with me? Contact me at ellisisis@gmail.com.
Stay tuned for more information about my travel plans for Egypt March 2021.