The Back Door

20161002_103854_resizedThere was only one way in or out of my cottage when I bought it – the huge, ancient black wooden door that opens from the street into a shared hallway.  At the end are separate doors leading to my home and the one adjoining it.  A lane runs along the side of my back garden, but there was no access to it.  I decided I’d feel safer if there was a second way out, just in case…

‘No,’ said the man from the planning office.  Due to its great age and architectural interest, my cottage is Grade 2 listed, which means the planning office can stop me changing anything in the building or the grounds.
‘Boundary fences must be left as they are,’ he told me.  ‘If they break or fall down they must be replaced by identical fence panels.  Any changes would have to be subject to Full Planning Permission.’
He then told me the cost of Full Planning Permission and I went very quiet.

Door, Old, Scrape, Entrance, AntiqueThere are ways around these things.  I asked a skilled craftsman friend to construct me a lockable gate that, from the outside, is completely indistinguishable from a fence panel, but which opens perfectly from the inside.

Why, you may ask, am I prattling on about my invisible back gate?  It’s because of a wonderful analogy I just discovered in the writings of Jane Roberts.

The book has taken weeks to arrive.  I had to order it in from the US, and it was far from cheap.  The title would be enough to put most people off: The Afterdeath Journal of an American Philosopher: The World View of William James.  I had to have it though.

Angel, Wings, Feather, HeavenYou see, I trust Jane Roberts.  I’ve been to so many talks and workshops where channels stand at the front in long, wafty, pastel-coloured frocks and proclaim something like, ‘The Angel Ganneril is here with us in the room.  He is pouring his pale mauve energy on to each of you.  He is telling you to hold love in your hearts and to care for the animals.  Feel the tingling down your spine as…’ and so forth.

Fine.  Such people speak their truth and reach many, but they don’t reach me.

Jane Roberts is a very different character; hard-drinking, hard-smoking, hard-bitten and as cynical as you like.  Faced with a new situation (in this case, unexpectedly receiving messages from a famous, but dead philosopher) she does what I’d do.  She files it away and ignores it totally, on the grounds that the whole thing seems way too unlikely.  The messages keep coming and Jane feels increasingly uncomfortable, as they don’t fit her world view and she wishes they’d stop.  Finally, she realises that she’d better find out what is going on, and why.  She interrogates the evidence, chats it through with Robert, her husband and eventually asks Seth for guidance.  Only when she is wholly convinced that her world view needs to expand to incorporate this new information, does she decide to write it up and publish.

So anyway, the gate?

Well, I’d had a long and busy day yesterday.  I arrived home after dark, to find the package containing my new book waiting for me.  I grabbed some food and a cup of tea and flicked through a few pages.  The first section was – intriguingly – called Front-Door People, Back-Door People, and World Views.

Her analogy runs thus:

img_20150415_112830_resizedWe all have a conscious mind – what she calls a ‘house of awareness’.  This ‘house’ has a front door, the one we open to the world for normal business and interaction, the one all messages are supposed to come to.  But – she continues – there is a second door, ‘a secret back door from the time of our childhood’.  This is a ‘magic’ entrance, one that opens to other worlds.  Sometimes we can see it; sometimes it’s invisible.  Jane speaks of the half-sensed messengers who sometimes call there and of the strange packages and papers left waiting there for us to find.

It made me smile, as I thought of my physical sometimes-there-sometimes-invisible back gate and what an apt way that is to describe the place where I can receive strange, magical information that comes to me.

The front door of my ‘house of awareness’ was very busy yesterday, but so too, in its quiet yet insistent way, was the back door.  Just as I have all the information in Jane’s book to read and understand, so I have other, more numinous information which has come to me from other sources to sift through and contemplate.  I’ll settle to that now.


8 comments on “The Back Door

  1. You live in a heratige site? That’s rather.. oh screw this. That’s really cool! How old? (I like to imagine the history, the people who lived there, what used to be…)
    Figures the books are stupidly expensive. I wanted HP Blataskphy’s book the secret doctrine but it costs an arm and a leg. (plus most of them are “abridged” and tampered with)
    I find these ideas of a self for the world and the child locked away inside to be rather accurate. Say, I sometimes speak utter “gibberish” when I’m annoyed.
    Guess what happened when I put some of it through google translate? (Hindu)
    I’m starting to wonder…

    • Didn’t know you were into history, Sage! ‘Heritage site’ sounds rather too grand for my tatty little cottage, but it is pretty old. No records go back far enough to say exactly when it was built, but the expert who checked it over for me before I bought it said the stone mullion windows probably date from the mid to late 1600s, so it’s at least that old. Some say it was a dairy at one time. Others suggested it was built as offices for the huge abbey nearby. If that were true, it would be medieval. Interesting to speculate.
      I also love to think about who lived here and passed by the windows. You might enjoy this old post if you like that sort of thing:

      As for your ‘gibberish’…you’ve got me intrigued. What – you were swearing in Hindi??

      • I guess heratige site might be the wrong word. (I’m not really familiar with all the words yet! I try really hard but I still am rather alien.) Yeah, I can’t help think about what it was like ‘back then’.
        About That gibberish. First of all, It’s probably an older language that hindi is derived from, and I’m sure you are aware that google translate is not very reliable. No, Not swearing! The words are certainly dark though. Earth gets to me sometimes.
        Maybe it’s something, but the translator is rubbish and I don’t exactly know what I’m muttering about at the best of times.

      • Hmm… Did you notice in Thai it comes out as something about a short green leg! I find early languages interesting. I even tried to use PIE (Proto-Indo-European Language) once, to match up local place names to what the early inhabitants of my area of England may have called them at the end of the last ice age! There were a few quite plausible matches.

  2. Ummm, No? That’s odd as well. I can’t help it! I fixate on things. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s something. But from what I now know about history I get the impression that the theories about the evolution of language are just that: Theories. Arrrgh! It’s so frustrating learning the truth. We really don’t know much at all.
    But It can be interesting reguardless. With a place like england it gets complicated because of all the invasions and whatnot.

  3. I really enjoyed this and am fascinated by doors (not the ordinary doors in ordinary houses), but those unusual ones that you speak of so eloquently here. As your property dates back centuries, do you ever have any ‘visitors’ from an earlier age stopping by? Actually I had an experience in a house a few houses back (nowhere as old as yours though), where I saw someone standing at the kitchen door in a long flowing dress and a bonnet – that much I saw out of the corner of my eye, before I turned to fully look, and of course ‘she’ disappeared. Funnily enough, it didn’t unnerve me as much as I thought it would. She was quite active In the house (if it was always the same person, and not others), and it only spooked me out once although her presence was heard on many occasions.

    • I love doors/portals too, Marie.
      Oddly, I had far more in the way of visitations in my last home, which was only about 15 years old, than I do here! I don’t tend to see the visitors, but they often leave scents. The lady in my last home had been a domestic servant in the big house that was on the site before the modern houses were built. I always knew when she was around because of the beautiful scent of flowers she brought with her. Others saw her, and even spoke with her, but to me she was just ‘Lily’ because the smell was like lily of the valley.
      I once became aware of a gentleman who used to live in our town in my present house. He used to come here to discuss esoteric matters with a former resident. I’d just been to a memorial talk in his honour, and when I got home, there was a strong smell of the cigarettes he used to smoke and I felt him around, feeling rather happy that our town remembered him that way! I’ve never been scared by spirits. All those I’ve encountered have been quite charming, and often helpful.

      • Thank you Jan. Fascinating stuff! I could tell you so much more about my non-physical visitors, but I guess the line has to be drawn somewhere. I just wish I was as calm about them as you are – some visits: door handles rattling, loud, noisy commotions going on in the hallway at the dead of night, scary manifestations etc can freak me out a little!! :))) We’ll have to do a swap! haha

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