“Hail Thoth, Architect of Truth, give me words of power that when I speak the life of a man I may give this story meaning. I stand before the masters who know the histories of the dead, who decide which tales to hear again, who judge the books of lives as either full or empty, who are themselves authors of truth. And they are Isis and Osiris, the divine intelligences. And when the story is written and the end is good and the soul of a man is perfected, with a shout they lift him into heaven. I too, a man longing for perfection. I wait to shine forth in manu, the place of the setting sun”. (Awakening Osiris, 2009)
Excerpt from the Egyptian book of the dead.
When the ancient Egyptians wrote this text around 4,000 years ago, they were speaking of ‘The Hall of Ma’at’. The hall, in Ancient Egyptian belief, was a place of judgement, which the dead must pass through when entering the underworld. Anubis, the God of Death, with the head of a wolf leads the dead into the hall where the heart is weighed on the scales of Ma’at against the feather of truth. The verdict is recorded on a clay tablet by Thoth, the God of Wisdom, with the head of an ibis. You would not want your heart to be heavy with sin and outweigh the feather of truth. Your fate would be to be devoured by Ammut, the eater of the dead, a hideous, part-crocodile, part-hippo and part lion beast, which waits patiently for the verdict. Your life story is erased, and you are deemed unworthy to exist ever again. If you pass this test. If your heart is lighter than the feather, Horus, God of the Sky, with the head of a hawk presents you to Osiris, the ruler of the underworld, whose throne is flanked by the four sons of Horus and Isis and her sister Nephthys. Osiris makes the final judgement on the dead, hopefully deeming the soul worthy to pass to the ‘Field of Reeds’. (Ancient Origins, 2021) (Hancock, 2012)
Something has been bugging me for the past year. I have not spoken about this to anyone. I think I just needed time to process it. A year ago, almost to the day I was rushed to hospital after collapsing from a seizure. I’ve had seizures before. My last one I was about 15. My previous seizures I had absolutely no recollection of what was happening. This time was different. There I was walking along when I felt the tell-tale signs of the impending seizure. I was in some woods, so I made my way to a built up area, in the hope that if I did collapse, I’d have more chance of being seen. I even made the point of walking on grass so that I didn’t cave my head in when I went down. The last thing I remember was the lights going out. I was then stood in a room talking to several beings sat behind a long table, like the Leonardo da Vinci painting, ‘The Last Supper’. The strange thing was that the beings were talking to me, as if asking questions, and they all had helmets, crested with horns. There seemed to be a leader of the group who was taller or sat higher than everyone else. After what felt like seconds I came round to be greeted by a voice, who had rushed to help me, “I didn’t think you’d come back, you’ve been out for 20 minutes!”
The rational part of me thinks that this was just a bi-product of the seizure which interrupted my normal thought patters, which triggered a cluster of random thoughts and memories. Or maybe, just maybe I was really standing before the masters.
The images below are a visual inquiry which explore what happened during that 20 minutes in January 2020.