The Nephilim Rising™

Lux in Tenebris Lucet

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The Forgotten Magic

December 7, 2022

Part 4

Hunting Shadows

Image by Louise Cox

Staring into the gaps in-between,

We find the things that cannot be seen.

Hiding in the bushes in the garden

and the hedgerows in the fields.

The Shadows

am I watching them

or are they watching me.

Darker than the blackest night

With sparkling eyes

that twinkle with the light

of stars burning bright.

There is a darkness that lurks in the shadows. I actually don’t know what it is but in my childhood, like some earlier explorer discovering a new species of creature for the first time, I was fascinated with observing the Shadow entities. Looking back at this as an adult, I have no idea what this was about, I actually have more questions than answers. Strange how as a child you don’t question what you do, instinctively you just do it, maybe that’s something as adults we should remember how to cultivate.

The natural world captivated my young mind and I would spend hours reading about and drawing my favourite animals. To me the Shadows are just another part of that, another creature to be studied, only it wasn’t in any book I knew, maybe I could be the first person to document it and become the David Attenborough of the unseen world.

As my curiosity grew I became bolder and rather than watching things in the garden through the window, I decided one day it would be fun to go on an expedition into the fields. The fields are literally across the road from my family home, you can see them from the living room window.
I roped my friend in and briefed her on the plan of action, to hunt down and observe the Shadow creatures.


We set off in full stealth mode across the field, treading softly as possible through the tall grass, towards a large over grown boundary hedge. The fields had long been abandoned and everything had gone feral. Once neat hawthorn hedges had become gnarled trees over long dried out ditches, where imaginations roamed free with trolls and fairies, but today we hunt Shadows.
I’m not sure I was prepared for what we encountered that day, in all honesty.

Image by Louise Cox

We stopped half way across the field as I could sense something moving just beyond the hedge. Don’t move or it will see us. Adrenaline kicked in as this Shadow was immense, watching Shadows in the garden through the safety of the window was one thing and they had been small no bigger than a man but this creature before was as big as an elephant and growing larger as it came towards us. It didn’t see us at first and I was telling my friend where it was and describing what it looked like. I don’t know if she saw what I could see that day (maybe I should ask her, we are still friends after 45 years) anyway she either did or she was playing along. The feelings of awe and panic got the better of us as the creature sensed we were watching seemed to grow denser and blacker and larger and started to move a bit quicker in our direction. We both bolted back across the field as fast as our legs would carry us.

Writing this down, it would be easy to dismiss it as my wild imagination but I know it was not. Then as now, although I have a vivid imagination I know the difference between what I project in my imagination and what is out in the world. At least, I think I do, we can all be fooled.

Image by Louise Cox

I wonder where I could walk to hunt Shadows close to where I live today, the fields near my parents house are still there but that’s 300 miles away from where I now live. There is a piece of common land not far from my house so I set off on a new expedition, along the rows of little terraced houses, through the grave yard, across the meadow that’s filled with blue flowers in spring. Till I reach the edge of the where the wilder places begin.

Ivy plays sentinel to the gateway of paths, tangled tree roots make steps down through the trees where Jackdaws chastise and Crows answer in low melodious caws. Out into the open space of common land, at least what is left of it.
I find myself on the edge of construction site, what happens to the Shadows when the wild spaces are gone.
Enticed by a circle of bright green ferns under the dark leafless branches of sleeping trees, a fallen tree lay, I sat and looked down over the view of our small sprawling town, how much bigger will it get.

Image by Louise Cox

There are tracks up behind where I sit, I decide to follow them.
Something caught my eye, shiny white and sparkling in the light breaking through the trees. Three little jewels attached to a dead tree stem. My instinct said that’s where to find what your looking for, my brain said its just some plastic caught or put by someone. It looked like the stem had been decorated for Christmas in the winter light. As I got closer it was three ivy leaves still wet with the morning rain glittering in the sunlight. I smiled to myself but beyond this illuminated signpost was the kind of gnarled old hedgerow I would expect to find Shadows dwelling. In the darkness between the leaves my mind saw the face of the Green Man sleeping but it was just an impression and although I waited and watched a while I neither felt nor saw any entities.

I did not find any Shadows that day, only hedges where they might dwell.


On my way back I followed a badger track clambering over and under the trees and came across a swing tied in the branches of a tall tree and sat again, deciding to head into town.
I found the route I would normally take blocked by the construction of new houses, another path lost. I had to follow the line of the high security fence back, and lost my bearings. Heading back onto another badger track and not knowing which way to go, sudden movement caught my eye, as a dear jumped along another path ahead of me. I followed and found my way back to the path I came in on.

Contemplating my little adventure I mused.


As the wild things are chased away by the ongoing urbanisation, the Forgotten Magic of our childhood is chased away by the trappings of our society. There are little pockets of wildlife left hemmed in, the badgers and foxes and dear surviving in an ever decreasing spaces. Our Magic is there part of us always, it just get hemmed in by life but we can make new pathways, opened up and rewild ourselves.

The Forgotten Magic

October 17, 2022

Part 3

Touching the Field

Of all the heightened senses of childhood this probably got me in the most trouble. As it is one that even the most unintuitive can experience fairly easily.

As a small child I would play with feeling my energy field, especially while in the bath for some reason. Feeling the resistance of the air around me the tension on the surface of the water. How far can I sense things touching my field, can I push it out and feel other fields outside of the room or sense things that cannot be seen. Expanding to feel my surroundings then contracting to condense the energy. Taking my hands from pray position to opening the palms but keeping the fingers tips and thumbs together, forming a triangle.

Image by Louise Cox

If I squinted I could see the ball of energy between my hands and would play with the magnetic push pull sensation warming my palms.

I taught my little sister to play the magnetic push pull game and we would play together feeling the warmth between our palms, pushing against each others energy and I realised that I could show other children how to feel this energy to.

During the summer holidays one year, I can’t remember who, maybe it was some older girls or the mum of my neighbour, had taught us a little parlour game/trick. It’s a combination of suggestion and other stuff but also using energy manipulation. I can’t remember exactly how the rhyme went or all of the actions now. Anyone can do this if they go through the sequence but I was particularly good and found I could influence even the most sceptical.

The rhyme was a about a murderer and the participant would play the victim. Looking back it probably did seem quite dark and was about the same time the Yorkshire Ripper was at large. I grew up in Yorkshire. But children like a little of the macabre, that’s why fairytales are so appealing and to us it was just a fun game.

Returning to school after the summer holidays, the game obviously made its way onto the playground.

Here is what I can remember of our little game. The ‘victim’ stands in front of the the person conducting the game and starts by telling the story of the ‘murderer’. Who then comes up to the ‘victim’ and puts a bag over their head. You tell the person playing ‘victim’ to close their eyes and you go through the action of putting a bag over their head and tie it around their neck. You continue the story of the ‘murderer’ binding the ‘victim’ whilst performing the actions of winding your invisible rope around them. The binding is finished with a knot at the back of the ‘victim’ and you step back and stand a few feet away holding the remainder of the invisible rope. Ending the story by telling them how the ‘murderer’ dragged the ‘victim’ away to bury them in the woods, pulling on the invisible rope. The person playing the ‘victim’ falls backwards as you pull the rope.

Everyone thinks this is great fun and all want to have a go at playing both the victim and the murder.

Until the RE teacher sees what we are playing, declares it Witchcraft and me as the Witch! I’m only about 8 or 9 years old and as a child of the 70s my only references at this point for Witches are fairytales where Witches are green and ugly with pointy hats and warty noses and generally evil and to be feared. I spend the remainder of my junior school years taunted by the rest of kids as ‘Witch’. Hence I was never particularly fond of the word.

Understandably I hid my nature a little more and retreated into seclusion.

I have started to peer out from behind the door and try to regain all I have hidden for so long. I’m not ready to step out fully yet and declare my presence and I’m not even sure I know what that will be. The revival of these forgotten memories and the rekindling of the practices I did as a child has already had a remarkable impact on my life. My energy is slowly returning, the Forgotten Magic is still there. That small ball of energy I toyed with as a child has grown and my aversion of the word Witch has subsided. After all even the ‘Wizard of Oz’ has good as well bad Witches.

The Forgotten Magic

September 7, 2022

Part Two

Seeing the soul of things

Art by Louise Cox

I had a somewhat paradoxical childhood. Most of the time I did not feel like a child, I knew I was older than my years but in a childs body. If you then speak to the adults most of which I am aware are younger than me, as yourself, they do not like it. So I learnt to act like a child, I don’t think I was very good at this. I decided to keep quiet instead. I quickly learnt that some things you especially keep quiet about.

My mother once asked me what I was looking at one night while sat on the sofa. I was bored with what they were watching on the TV and had become distracted by the coloured orbs dancing about the window.

“I’m watching the coloured lights by the window” I replied “look how beautiful they are”.

“There’s nothing there” she snapped looking at me like I have two heads.

“Maybe we should take you to have your eyes corrected if your seeing things” she warned me.

I wanted to protest and was horrified that my vision could be corrected so I would not be be able to see these things but a voice in my head said keep quiet, I shut up and promised myself to keep quiet in the future.

Art by Louise Cox

I would often unfocus my eyes to see what cannot be seen. I’d practice on inanimate objects. The clock on the mantelpiece was a favourite. It had a rotating pendulum with three balls underneath. The trick is to be in a trance state before you start staring. This was a lot easier as a child as my mind was a lot less cluttered as it is today. Once calm look at your chosen object but don’t focus in on it, take in the whole scene, keeping your attention on the object. Eventually your vision will shift, I feel this in my ears as well, they buzz a little or feel like the pop you get when there is a pressure change. I liked using the clock as it’s moving pendulum gave colourful tracers as they moved plus it was just a clock, it had no energy attached to it so made a good practice object. If I used the same technique on my favourite toys they would be more animated, being imbued with energy from the personality I had given them.

Some things do not like to be seen.

I was staring out of the window of my Nanna’s flat one day. I had a strange fascination with one of the windows in a large house opposite my Nanna’s. Nanna lived on the thirteenth floor of a block of flats. There was a large expanse of grass outside with a big oak tree in the middle and a few smaller trees dotted about. On the other side of this open space was a large manor house. When left alone in the livingroom I would look out of this window, I always had an intense feeling that someone was watching me from one particular window in the manor house. It was so far away you couldn’t see if there was or not, but I had a weird sense like when you feel someones magic and it’s challenging you, ‘I see you I know what you are’.

Back then everything was more feeling and emotion than words and in my mind I knew in the room that window belonged to, there was a little boy. He was trying to get my attention because he knew we were the same so I understood. He was asking for help. But I’m just a little girl on the thirteenth floor of a block of flats looking out of the window back at someone I can’t even see! Is he really there?

This always made me feel really sad. I wanted to go up to the house and ask if there was someone in that room and I could I speak to them and help, obviously this was not possible.

On one particular day as I stared intently towards the window in the manor house, the large oak tree was caught in my gaze. It’s aura started to shimmer, the whole tree shone with a magenta hue so bright, I took my eyes off the window and marvelled at the beautiful glow of the oak tree pulsating with energy. I could see its very essence, it’s soul. The second my full attention was on the tree, it sent a shock wave so strong I felt like I’d been physically pushed backwards. It hit my solar plexus breaking my trance instantly.

Art by Louise Cox

I knew the tree was not happy to be seen and I’d been put in my place. It certainly gave me a greater respect of trees and an awareness that like people some like to be left alone.

Over the last couple of months I’ve been experimenting with ‘unseeing’, I call it ‘unseeing’ because you have to tell your brain to forget it knows what everything is and cultivate a sense that you are trying to see something else. So far I managed to regain the same sense of sight looking at an ornament in my room and I also still have one of my childhood toys which again had more movement than other inanimate objects.

I was a little more apprehensive about try this on any trees. However I plucked up the courage and tried the technique on the palm tree in my garden. It seems friendly enough. This took longer to engage than the inanimate objects I had used. Eventually I managed to get focused, by this point I felt as if I was floating and my sight goes in and out, like you are looking through a camera and zooming in and out, my sight was closer then further away. Then the palm tree was not just a palm tree put a yellow and blue entity with many heads and eyes. I made it clear that I meant no harm and it seemed ok with letting me observe for a while. Then I said thank you for letting me see you and returned to normal sight, although I could still see some of the eyes for a few days every time I looked at the palm tree, this has now faded, unless I consciously look for them.

Image by Louise Cox

As a result of these experiments my hynogogic images have become a lot more vivid especially before sleeping.

As for the boy in the window. I did ask my Nanna about the house and if you could go visit. She told me it was a borstal for boys where all the naughty boys went and that you cannot visit as it’s all locked up.

Whether there was someone in that room looking out the window or not I will never know for certain but this is one memory that has stayed with me throughout my life.

Years later I learnt to use the same technique the oak tree had used on me to defend myself from unwanted attention but that’s another story.

The Forgotten Magic

July 15, 2022

Art by Louise Cox original photo Sandra Stalker

Intro

I do not practice magic, I am magic I was born this way, it’s enmeshed in the very fabric of my being. In essence we are all magic it’s only a question of whether you remember your inherent nature or get caught up in the conformity of the world at large and become conditioned to that reality. To a certain extent we all have to conform to society to survive, I have pandered to society norms. I rarely speak of my beliefs and over the years have blocked the intrusions of the Other.

This has is consequences. Firstly as a teenager and well into my thirties I was plagued with Sleep Paralysis attacks. Back when these attacks first started there was no label for my experiences and very little written. Before the invention of the Internet it was a lot harder to research anything without access to a good library. And who do you talk to when you are afraid to go to sleep in case the demons try to drag you away and devour your soul.

Secondly, after NOT learning my lesson of neglecting my magic this first time, I once again became entangled in the snare of conformity. This time it has affected me physically and I was diagnosed with CFS ten years ago. I have done all I can medically and had a refresher course via the NHS at the beginning of this year. I know deep in the recesses of my mind that if I want to truly be well again I need to reconnect with the source, field, universe whatever you want to call it.

Reaching back into my earliest memories I was living a magical life, only, I had to start hiding it, as I realised not everyone was interacting with the world as I did. Now I wish to rekindle the connection I’ve lost and reconstruct the things I did intuitively as a small child, when there where no boundaries between magic and reality. I need to remember the Forgotten Magic.

Part 1 – Black Horizons

Art Louise and Ian Cox

My earliest magical memories from childhood started young, around the ages of three to eight. Once I was put to bed at night, I would make contact with the ‘beings’ (for want of another word). Inducing a trance state to communicate with them. This was not a dream, all the time I was conversing with these other beings, I was fully aware that I was a child in a bed at night and after our meetings were over, I would settle down and go to sleep.

Drawing on these memories what were the mechanics of the trance inducement. I would sit calm and still, feel the energy which flows through all of us. This energy always concentrates in the palm of my hands. When the energy felt strong enough, I would place my hands over my eyes so that the base of my palm was covering the socket of my eyes. Eyes closed I would look into the darkness and wait. At some point there would be a shift and my ears would feel like there had been a change in pressure. In the vast darkness there is an horizon. The beings would come towards me from this horizon. Sometimes one or two, sometimes up to five of them. They appeared to me as coloured luminous energy. The conversations happened telepathically, more emotion than words. Some were more friendly than others, some in different towards me and one seemed to dislike me and the feeling was mutual.

I was very fond of one of the beings in particular, he is the one who visited the most. I painted a picture of him at Sunday School (this would be the one and only time I went to Sunday School). I wasn’t very old, pre-school days. Easels where arranged in a circle and we were painting. The lady looking after us asked me what I was painting. I felt panic, I know I can’t tell her who this is.

“It’s a Horse”, I tell her.

“That’s a funny looking Horse”, she declares, “where’s his eyes”?

“I’ve been making the colour for his eyes”, showing her my paint brush which has a lovely shade of pale blue. I’d spent a long time trying to get the right shade of luminous blue, which was highly frustrating with the low grade poster paints at my disposal.

She promptly snatched the paint brush out of my hand and blobbled a dot, where she thought the ‘Horse’ should have an eye.

“There that’s much better” she declares and walks off. I was furious, how dare she, she has no idea about how the world works and she’s supposed to be teaching me about spirituality! That was not where his eye was supposed to be! I refused to go to Sunday School ever again.

Art work by Louise Cox

When I was much older I read ‘The Tibetan book of the Dead’ and felt a connection to the descriptions of experiences you are to encounter when you die, with the visits of the beings I encountered as a small child. Was this some kind of cross over stage? I was alive but interestingly in the memories I have of conversations with these beings are mostly about the fact that I was not happy to be here. Why was I here? I didn’t want to be here, I wanted to go back home. The people I was with, my family had no understanding of what I was.

They were adamant I had to stay. Am I supposed to be here for a reason. Why now in this place with these people. I do remember in one of the last conversations, one of the beings saying I was here because I ‘meddled’. With what or whom, in my last incarnation here or in the Other place, where I longed to back to. I have no idea and if I am to learn a lesson then it would help it I had some inkling to what it was.

Then one night I was told that they would not be visiting me again, I was to have no further contact. I was devastated, lonely and abandoned in a place I felt I did not belong. I was probably about six or seven. I have tried many times over the years to get back to the Black Horizon where the beings can be contacted. Sometimes I can see it but don’t quite make that final shift. I suppose it’s like phone call but the line at the other end is dead or is blocking my calls.

I experimented again over the last month or so at one point I saw something like a door open on the Horizon but it was abruptly closed. I guess I have to wait until I cross over to the Other side again.