Imprints flashing from the Esoteric Retreat with Pleroma, we drove to Buggiano, a Province of Pistoia in the Tuscany region, not far from Florence, where the Pleroma Temple vibrates mightily. As resident Warden, Frater A. let us cross the Sacred Threshold to behold this modern Rosicrucian wonder. The lofting firmament beyond The Temple Dome - The Sun-Light in Extension beaming thru the colored glass, painting the columns - throwing rainbow paths across the lodge floor - in mingling primary tones - Konx Om Pax - Stayed with me all night .:.
I woke with that meta-morphing overlay – knowing it would nourish me - for the ‘Return’ was looming. I was in a state of timorous dread & jimjamy butterflies, knowing that my Grandfather’s homeland is basically an hour & ½ away from the Pleroma Temple – It seems an interesting juxtaposition - a chance to heal hereditary – the ‘sins of the fathers’ – a potent sign to leap into the abyss of my father issues – & to confront my solicitude surrounding my initial pilgrimage to Montefegatesi when I was a young woman –
Coming back now as a Crone – fortified by the New heritage brought into Italia - thru the Misraim Dienst - radiating out from Pleroma -
Curving thru lush mountain roads we stopped in a little town where Carlo Lorenzini Collodi, was raised – a passionate disciple of Mazzini - a prominent Italian Freemason & revolutionary – Credited with writing the initiatory tale of Pinocchio –
As I choose my wooden refrigerator-magnet Pinocchio Souvenir– I declared to CG: Someday I will write a ‘rock opera’ - a New Rosicrucian-Mystery-Drama Pinocchio, with eurythmy & live original music! Wheels of Inspiration turn in my mind…humm-thrum-bombilate…I wonder if the folks from Pleroma have done any Anthroposophical research into this Italian Tale..? Then as if in answer - interesting synchronicity: 2 days ago, I see a post that Frater A. of Pleroma recently conducted a sacred tour to Collodi to explore the mysterious gardens of VILLA GARZONI where Carlo Collodi was inspired to write the story of Pinocchio! This is another of the many uncanny inner-connection-mind-meld affirmations – Egregoreic proof in the pudding that continues to get served up - thru my Fellowship with the Misraim Dienst.
The anticipation pushed the breath-taking ride into giddy reverence. Passing the gateway to Dante’s Inferno - the Orrido di Botri Nature Reserve – We climb up & up - round the stomach-churning, hair-pin turning, ever curving, Apennine Mountains – popping with awe-inspiring panoramas - A full symphony of Sun & blue sky - thunder, lightning, rain & even hail (‘grandine’ in Italian). We enter the clouds, heavy with drenching mists.
Our next trial comes as we start our approach into the Medieval village – Our rent-a-car becoming the ship in Homer’s epic poem, the Odyssey. At the Threshold - Torrential rains curtain our windshield - blurring all senses as we meet the proverbial passageway “between Scylla & Charybdis”. Pulling in the cars side-windows doesn’t stop the nails-on-a-chalkboard sound of paint being scraped off by the ancient stucco, sharp as serpent teeth. Is this a street - or a dead-end? We can’t turn back – We have to keep going – forward - thru the narrow strait. The tempest barrage unrelenting - we finally emerge into the center of the little piazza – Sighing & laughing like maven mooncalf’s – we pullover, & stop the car – I commend CG on his courageous maneuvering - & we take a breath - watching the surging spate flush & gush. Ok here we are - we made it – now what? - Is it going to deluge the whole day long? Is this sousing inundation evidence of the ‘Lucchesi curse’ which confronted me when I was last here 45 years ago? I close my eyes & do my mid-day Circle Meditation.
After a while I am aware that the sound quality has shifted – the atmosphere altered - Then I hear CG open the car door, I look up, & the rain has stopped – completely – I step out into a rivulet rill running over the cobblestones – O how fresh the air – how animated – the colors glistening - And who is there to greet us - Garibaldi! We are haphazardly parked in front of the little grocery store where a woman stands looking at us. She kindly asks us to move the car over in case a delivery comes – although she said probably not, since all of Italy was on strike that day in support of Palestine. I tell her this was my Grandfather’s village, & she lights up asking his name. She is too young to remember Paulo Lucchesi or Francesca, my Strega Nona, although she smiles & says she has heard stories – Paulo was famous for his good nature & his famous love of opera - singing on the radio down in Bagni di Lucca. They were both members of the ‘Filodrammatica’, the Amateur Dramatic Society of “Teatro Ermete Zacconi.” - named after the actor, she proudly regales us, who was born in Viareggio, a close province of Lucca - famous for the psychological depth of his characters. The theater was built with the help of villagers that went back & forth from New York & Chicago, seasonally, like my Uncle Sante & Aunt Bruna.
In 1880 they founded the “Giordano Bruno Free Thought Society” of Montefegatesi Eager & agog - What is that? I ask - Wondering if it was some kind of Masonic Society or maybe a labor union? Well, the ‘Free Thinkers Circle’ – they are populists - who believe that organized religion is a source of evil. “Christ is for the people” is their Free Thought Motto - backing a sincere belief in individual conscience - practically applied to support initiatives of social value, sponsoring public works for the community: Like the road, the local Red Cross, the Theater, public fountains, a local Library, & the Monuments of Garibaldi, The King of Italy, & Dante Alighieri - as well as the many Madonna grottos on every corner of the mountain, which are still maintained today. They run the seasonal festivals for the village too. The store keeper laughed, & said my Strega Nona was matron of the famous La Bafana fest which is still a highlight every Epiphany – The troupe also stages controversial performances based on their work in the ‘Giordano Bruno Free Thinkers Circle’. I was amazed – how come I never consciously knew any of this? But come to think of it - It certainly explained a lot: I flashed on the ‘salons’ hosted by my ‘Grandma-Good-Witch’ - where the ‘Free Thinker’s’ would gather, & where I met the Rosicrucian impulse at age 9. I was staring off into space – The shop keeper had stopped talking - CG jumped in saying I also had cousins. I rattled off the names I knew – Ah Sante, he passed away a year ago; & Bruna, O you just missed her - she left for the season 2 days before; but Delacina, yes, she lives right over there. She happily announced, pointing across the small piazza. – Gulp – O - Ok thank you. I sputtered – feeling overwhelmed, I grabbed CG & essentially ran away - I hadn’t tried to contact or tell anyone I was coming. I really just wanted to show up & have a quiet remedial experience without any overlay. I just wanted to walk around –
The 1st thing we did was hike up to see Dante Alighieri – towering there on the summit of the rock-hamlet - a monument to the great poet - his austere countenance, the work of Lucca sculptor Francesco Petroni, tall & earnest on a pedestal of jasper blocks – there at the peak since 1908 - overlooking the vertical asperities of Mount Rondinaio, of the Three Powers, the Mosca, Pratofiorito & the Coronato – crown of the Italian Alps.
We discovered the ‘Path of the Ancestors’ - a loop along the cliff edge, with vast vista views, which wasn’t there 45 years ago.
The quant rock-top houses & the 1 village café were silent - as the Sun emerging from the mists warmed the slippery cobblestones. The parish Churches were all locked – I vaguely remembered the one dedicated to ‘San Frediano Vescovo’ – What stood out was his connection between Ireland & Italy – since I am Irish-Italian. Fridianus, as he was known in the monastery where he was ordained in Ireland, made his pilgrimage to Rome - he became a hermit, living on the Mountian close to the village.
Fridianus was known for working miracles - the most famous legend tells how the River Serchio, which runs past Bagni di Lucca, often flooded. The farmer citizens tried everything to hold it back, to no avail – they finally begged the Bishop-Hermit to come to their aid. Armed with a rake, Fridianus walked down the monte to the river bank - Bolstered by the prayers of the faithful - he commanded the waters of the Serchio to follow his rake. To the amazement of all, the river followed Fridianus as he cut a path away from the city & the cultivated farm land. humm...Wasn’t there some fresco’s from the 1500’s in great disrepair in that sanctuary?
As a wise Crone wanna-bee I longed to enter the grotto cave of the Madonna where I had spent time-out-of-time with the Rosary-Widows – but somehow the play of the light, or was it the tall metal gates, kept it hidden & inaccessible to me.
We walked every tiny lane, eating purple grapes off the vine, gawking at the views, marveling at the giant slugs & the mountain architecture. I wondered where all the goats were? We saw one young man who greeted us along the way before we found ourselves back at the center piazza. I was feeling propitious, integrated, content to leave & go into digestion, & on into the next adventure. CG voiced what I was thinking: Yes, but don’t you want to go see Delacina? I hemmed & hawed, made excuses - We don’t know which house is hers, she won’t know me, I don’t want to disturb her…
The little shop keeper was nowhere to be seen - But we noticed the young man we saw on the path in a kind of municipal building (was it the Teatro Ermete Zacconi?) He was cleaning the hall with another gentleman. We walked over & I asked about the Madonna Church - the older man told us to go down this way & that – I was turning to leave, excited about visiting the grotto – But he called out: Aren’t you going to go see Delacina? WTF - I guess news travels fast - um, well, I stammered, she probably doesn’t speak English, I don’t want to bother her…blahdidyblah – O no, he smiled, her English is good, she is a little hard of hearing – but she is always home – there – her house is right over there… To be continued… ~hag
22 October 2025 - “Speaking with the Stars”: Against the backdrop of dark sky-New Moon, the active Orionid meteor shower will be on display - as the rare Comet Lemmon becomes visible at its closest to earth.
29 October - 3 November 2025 - Our Annual All Souls, members gathering, at the Mysteria Mystica Americana Grand Lodge Temple in TX USA
6 – 9 pm Saturday 8 November 2025 – Save the Date ‘cause this is our last big bonfire-prep-stir-pot-luck-communal gathering at the Lucchesi-Archer-Ginsberg homestead!We sold our house - & we’re moving to WI – around the corner from Zinniker Farm!RSVP Hazel@CogRite.com
Zinniker Farm has harvested Biodynamic Pfeiffer Wheat - If you are interested in signing up to receive a share of the harvest - Supplies are limited - Contact the Family Farm Initiative
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Greetings Friend, you currently a free subscriber to Cognitive Ritual. Thank you for receiving my workings freely offered. For the full experience, upgrade your subscription. ALL donations go to support Zinniker Farm - The oldest Biodynamic Farm in America! Together we can spiritualize the Universe. XOX ~hag
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Wednesday, 22 October 2025
The Return
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