Of Shamrock Folk & High Leprechauns
& Wily Elsprights in Green & Gold
“Slainte mhath! and all of that – I know everyone is Irish (and maybe even a wee bit Scottish!) these days, but that was something else” said one of the helpers, reacting to a sudden sensation.
“Indeed, we are all rockin’ in the green – interesting, by the way, to be celebrating and being one with a grouping that was once fiercely hated and dissed in many ways – but maybe there is a lesson in that for what we are facing right now.”
In a kind of gridlock was this clan of noble warriors, intent on their community project, but beset – and frankly, stopped - by the new normal tactics of ‘dissing’ all over any kind of progressive effort – disrupt, distract, distrust, dismiss...
“Whew, I felt it too – not sure what exactly it was, but very fascinating and intriguing!”
“And very timely – we needed a break – we are so bogged down!”
Thus ran their discussion.
"I don't know - maybe too much green beer - maybe hanging around with too many tight asses - but I see it & feel it - sliding right thru us - I see shades of green & gold & suddenly I just need to move on from this mess."
To be clear - not inebriated at all is this energetic bunch in this season of Irish celebration, not yet, but transformed they are to that elevated state of being, a glorious place to be, an ultimate vantage point from which all takes on a clear and awesome hue – green in this current season craziness.
Engaged but mired in their noble pursuits – now stirred by wily spirits cloaked in shades of green and gold – truly, they had all ‘seen’ it in their minds.
“Ok, let it be leprechauns or some such high elfin spirits quite intent on shaking things loose – we all are thinking of it!” ran their intertwined thoughts.
Like the masters and their elsprights, these els among us are able to reach intimate closeness as they merge their minds and souls – of ‘wave length’ and far more – a correspondence of notes and letters of deep understanding – in instinctive, ethereal form – they just get it – welcome it – and each other and possibilities.
In this case, there was clearly a mutually detected “something” – true els connect constantly by a myriad of means – open are they to progress and possibilities – and in this case, shared images of hues – shades of spirits to move the soul – and of bogs that weigh down – yet always, in tune with this season, an elevated hope of glens and rainbows and pots of gold – of one with the shamrock folk they surely are.
Weighed down by doubt and dissent they had been – but whew! – Slainte mhath! – the substance of the el world, felt as a mutual sensation passing thru them like an awakening and freeing – as from a trap - thanks to these ethereal leprechauns, emissaries of life.
In fact, now magically energized and elevated – and vindicated in their noble pursuits and temperament at staying the course – they immerse themselves with delight in whatever this new happening may be, and share thoughts with all who are dwelling in the el state:
"Me too - funny the color effect - really bizarre, maybe we have gotten way too much into this Irish thing - but I see, and feel somehow, a sweeping away, a dancing away, of swirls of colors – of forces in browns & greys just weighing us down – of them now being left behind to drag down each other – thanks to a rushing in of these incorrigible spirits in brilliant greens and golds – with other brilliant hues all around them - joining and jiving, like a dance breaking out!"
"Yeah, more than a jig - but I like it - whew, we can do so much better than what we have been doing – let’s redouble our efforts, but on a different tack."
"Maybe it's the hope of Spring and the promise of flowers, or maybe there really are leprechauns, but some kind of force is moving thru us – glory be! - like the sweep of a paint brush - a sensation of colors."
Bizarre to be sure, but they had all felt it. Locked in verbal battle, trying unsuccessfully to get beyond talking points and the usual barbs and disparaging remarks, a silence had settled – they were about to disband with the usual lack of progress – but something new and fresh had now begun – they had instantly shared a collective look and sigh.
Similarly, in other corners and nooks of the sphere of happenings – all it took was the trigger – the poke and lure of the elsprights – in this case, in tune with the season, cloaked in colors, leading with greens and golds – and the inner el voices instinctively responding in, natural, positive ways.
Clearly the space had lightened and brightened along with a shift in mood – uplifting for the true el warriors – yet another fear and worry for the rest of the folks who are still overwhelmed by such uncomfortable intrusions – but there is always hope.
“We read their thoughts as our own.” “There is indeed, always hope.” “Our perspective is eternal, and these emergences, these flowerings – brief though they often are, but always be seized upon.”
Such run the notes of the masters, the princes of the el state, as they observe the goings-on of this current Irish fest as the season turns yet again towards growth.
Thus provoked, they all – the full range of els - break into smiles and chuckles over the strange but delightful apparitions – feet & bodies & souls moving in rhythm – and more so – now all one with a charge of energy, a force sweeping and clearing away.
Almost like telepathy – one more weirdness of this, whatever it was that was happening – this sacred connection with the realm in between it all – definitely several of them were experiencing this - those most acutely affected already were now, somehow, very clearly sharing thoughts – appearing as wonderfully colorful visions in their minds, thus:
“Perhaps this season of being Irish has affected us in some way – a kind of magic.”
“Knee-deep in the muck we were and now, poof – just what we need – a jolt!”
“Like some kind of leprechaun suddenly moving among us – some sort of life force.”
“…Love this, however it is happening – and love our silent notes and messages – we know each other and know we are connecting on this – like discovering a place of beauty together – in this season, perhaps a magical paradise of shamrocks and rainbows and pots of gold – whew - but let’s move our spoken conversation to a new place – we are embolden, aren’t we?”
“Indeed, and may I suggest that we keep out our unspoken notes of wily green elves and such to our brethren who get it – for those of the bog, it just makes them tense and angry.”
“O my loves, let it out” “Tis the realm of lovers across all aspects” “Let out, shake them all up” “Yay” – silent, shared thoughts, notes of the elsphere, one with the masters…
Another round of chuckles and glee, building on itself.
The masters continue:
“Drained though they may be – yet marvelous how they rally to the elevated state – these, our best, our noble warriors – their ready grasp of all aspects – including the sustaining elsprights who are constantly offering their gifts – in this season coming in shades of green and gold – and with an infectious wily spirit……
“...sorely needed for their relentless fight – the good fight in dealing with the constant attacks offered by the neat, pure, narrow extremes – such vigilance is consuming and exhausting…
“...and yet, as all of our kin know - the eternal quest to hold it all together is demanding of a whole other aspect...”
“The rhythms of dis and neg are overpowering, yes – like swimming against tides and currents...”
“But ancient and lasting is the quest of the Whole - welcome are the counter waves of life, embodied and expressed in means that are wide and vast - and life-giving always, to our kin....
“...often seeming to befrivolous to those constricted ones - but fully grasped and appreciated by our el warriors...
“...so noble, so fierce and loving they are - seizing every opportunity to break the spell of those so constrained...
“...a song here, a jig there and our high elfin leprechauns work their magic...”
Touching on the ultimate aspect of the realm they are, our princes – such is indeed a haven of elsprights in the form of leprechauns in this current season – but this is just the edge – the full view is dizzying in its’ vastness – and here the masters of el are perched.
They continue to exchange their notes with each other as their emissaries soar and sweep:
“We get it, of course, and look, many of them are doing so, as well – let’s join in tune with the celebration and dance a jig of our own!”
“We can’t, by this alone, stop the most horrendous acts of harm and poison, but perhaps the beautiful tunes of their Irish spirits – such a shining example of emergence of our spirit – perhaps it can lift the inner el voices throughout the realm and help them to stand back and away from the awful noise of the Dissers (yes, we know they also use other, similar references!), even for a moment, and reveal all in their true nature.”
“Fortunately, our fellows love and throw themselves fully into the reveal – braving such intimacy is surely part of our ultimate place – our loves possess the extra capabilities of perception and openness - welcoming the new and possible, delighting in the fray and mist, the swirl of the unlimited realm, our world within, all of ours who dare to love.”
Towards these champions are the elsprights launched - carrying the life-giving rays of energy and hope.
"A peculiar season this has long been - fables of lil green sprights and pots of gold and rainbows.”
"Useful have such images been for driving out the dark forces - and again in this age we call upon them."
"Yes, funny how they get diminished in retellings of these ancient tales - for these wily elsprights are our very close brethren - certainly with the youthful and infectious energy of lore, but also balanced with our eternal and timeless temperament - these leprechauns in true form are infinite in their power and reach, these high elves of this particular season."
Thus, into all parts of the sphere of happenings do the emissaries of the masters sweep – these ethereal spiders in leprechaun form – growing and nurturing and weaving together in pure benevolence all of the shamrock folk who are ready.
And in common mission to progress their mutual noble quest, all of the seasonal sprights, green and otherwise, do swoop, seeking els everywhere to break loose and free with a song of love, a dance of merry, a jig of life.
And with it – to those most acutely feeling it – a kind of electric buzz of other connected recreations of the same – a sense of village – of a welcome invasion of benevolent bits of something.
And also of alarm, truth be told – to the folks who are less ready – now cringing as if beset by invading forces – of alarm that their relentless attempts to maintain an ever constricting lock on all around will be barred.
From the ultimate vantage point of the princes of all the els, they observe:
“Whew – look at them all, all of our folks – certainly is there much movement in the sphere.”
“Indeed – the chaos has been stoked – a moment of opportunity is present.”
“We can never quite predict when and how our efforts will take effect – only that they will in their own mercurial way.”
“Amusing – if they see leprechauns, let them – if upon awakening our elsprights appear in that form, so be it!”
“Tis but a new chapter in our fable of colors – as the seasons and ages turn once again!”
“Yes – our stories of the forces of light and hope working against the those of dark and black are ancient and eternal – of emergences to a full spectrum of aspects to move the realm in ways that are awesome.”
Thus the masters, the ancient magi embodied, the eternals in ethereal form – they focus on this latest culmination and work their own magic, enabling and emboldening at all points, rejoicing at progress:
“Glorious my loves – our emissaries are poking and jolting and shaking the sphere – prodding with beauty and virtue, stirring with soul-moving song and spirit-raising dance.”
“The infestations of Puffers and Rollers and the many other manifestations of Dissers are screaming and screeching all the more – their relentless noise grates and their campaign of alarm and mistrust is turning upon itself.”
“And look, all are bent upon our wily ones in green and gold – our leprechauns are luring away the shamrock folk everywhere, away from the bogs, away from what most of them can now see is really a void.”
“As always, this moment of clarity will pass, the vantage point will cloud – but the power of such infinitesimal places in the sphere is vast.
“Playfully, but oh so effectively, they are pulling back the cloaks, revealing true colors – and the absence thereof.”
“We have seen it all before – the modes of each age vary, but always the glimpse of the ultimate aspect is brief and awesome – such is the pi world - the unlimited view always leaves a mark!”
Stirred now to a kind of madness, of inner voices drawn out – some into glorious chorus – others to a clang of discord – finally, at long last, the key moment.
Who, what to trust? – all are revealed in true nature – all are known for sure – a rare, fleeting place of pure, collective attention.
Like the nano bits of dis they spray, the Puffers and Rollers are overwhelmingly, glaringly on display.
As are the warriors of el – of the elevated state – but arrayed in magnificent, beautiful hues - it is the rare alignment of time and place for all to find their true mate.
And thus there is a pause in the sphere – the stillness of the edge – the balance shifting.
" Glory be, Slainte mhath! Halleluiah!” So goes the merriment & far more.
The vale lifts, the spell breaks - freed from the bogs, the gentle folk are caught up the celebration.
Be it for a fortnight, the span of one jig or the merest nano moment of release - the mutual notes of thanks flow – the el world swells - and poised they are now to dance and join with the high elfin leprechauns in all of their wily ways.
Their many shades had passed right thru them all, luring the inner els, leaving the clinging, constricting ones only themselves to harm...
...and fully revealed for their narrow extreme madness and put in their natural place with a somber clarity…
...like the awesome view from the mountain top - such is the vantage of the ultimate aspect...
...Gloriously cloaked in the hues of the shamrock folk - once totally disrespected - now thoroughly emulated - such is the realm of possibilities...
A spell breaking – all colors are in perfect clarity – all turn towards the green and the gold and the rainbow – their force is brilliant and awesome.
Tis a new, life-giving dawn, a new ray of hope – of instinct, some turn towards the wily ones, discovering many kin - smiling and reinforcing, reflecting and magnifying – others of nature shun and cringe and slink away - their solitude also brought into focus.
Slainte mhath! and Yay! Freed and released, noble causes remembered and revived – yes the wily green & gold ones, the high elves in seasonal form – they lead once again the dance of the flowers!!!
