About

On the Spring Equinox of 2005 I was guided to find a Golden Ring (which had inscriptions on it: “Greetings”) at Stonehenge and then, without any planning or fear, I went on an adventure around the world and ended up marking the Solstices and Equinoxes at Angkor Wat (Draco Reptilian), Uluru (Divine Masculine), Kata Tjuta (Divine Feminine) and then Stonehenge (Division Control) once more.

These are the emails I sent to friends and family en-route.

Lee D Miller
From the Ancient Manor of Barking

The Beginning of the Adventure: As we approached the cliffs, overlooking the beautiful seas of Whitsand Bay, the sight was so wonderful to behold. The sun shone brightly, from a clear blue sky, and glistened off of the water as it reached out to meet the horizon. Furious white breakers stormed in from a curiously calming deep blue sea, rolling towards the sandy beach in an equal and orderly measure, while following the gorgeous crescent of the bay as the rugged coastline disappeared into the distance. This was not only a perfect spring morning, it was the perfect day to surf…

Ok… bollocks to all that!!!

I did try to write up these emails as a book back in the noughties, but I got stuck because the style just didn’t seem to suit it. I bought a computer, downloaded all the adventures from my floppy-discs and attempted to begin writing the whole story… but I never got past the first paragraph!!! It just didn’t feel write 😉 somehow. I just figured that was not how it was meant to be and thought that I’d written enough to cover the main bits of the story anyhow, so I never felt inclined to bother. I did like the rawness of my email style and I thought to “Proper Bookify It” would take away the fluctuating edge that made it me. Of course, I did write “The Mutooroo Adventure” quite recently and that style is slightly different to the rest, but that’s because that style fitted the energy of that part of the story, perhaps because I was in the company of such a gentleman at the time, and thus the delivery was authentic to that fact. But now I feel to “bang-out” the rest of “the beginning” in the style of the Manor from whence I’m from because you can never (and should never!) deny that… Cos where you’re from is where you’ve got the strongest connection to Gaia herself and it’s where you should be yourself… even if you’re different 😉 . So, anyway…

… we rolls-up to the clifftop, overlooking Whitsand Bay, and the scene was absolutely pukka!!! The sky was blue, the sun was shinning and the waves were “strolling” into the crescent bay in proper “surf-dude-wet-dream” style!!! This was gonna be a good day and we couldn’t wait to get down there and catch a wave!!! 🙂 Even though it was still early Spring the sun was warming like it was in mid-May and the cold breeze, coming in from the sea, didn’t seem to touch you. As we got changed by the road side, and behind the open doors of my jam jar (or car… whatever your preferences are!!), I couldn’t believe my mince pies as I clocked the sea below me… it was absolutely perfect for body boarding! Really powerful waves… which were not too big and not too small… the Goldie-Locks variety!!! 🙂 … were thundering their way towards the tidal sandy beach as if to say “Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough!!!” And even though I only had a shortie wetsuit and the seas were the coldest of the year… I weren’t gonna back down from that kind of “offer”!!! 🙂 ……..

https://theadventuresofmiller.com/2021/01/06/miller-and-the-whitsand-bay-adventure-part-i/

……… Now, of course, I aint gonna pretend that I’m some kind of “cool-arse” surfer dude… because I’m not… I have surfed a bit, but coming from where I’m from you don’t get much of a chance to surf and I’ve always found it much easier to just carry a body-board in the boot of my car, just in case I might pass a beach – on my travels! – where the conditions are right and I’m able to do so. And unlike the amazing amount of inviting Sunkist sandy beaches that exist around Cornwall and the West Country, the Thames and Essex coastline don’t tend to offer those kind of “invitations”… no… what you tend to get is this uniquely absorbent sludge which squelches up between your toes and appears to have been formed from copious amounts of London turds being released into the river estuary!!! You think twice about paddling let alone swimming!!! 🙂 And far from having the look of someone who’s grown-up by the Cornish seaside, with the salty air blowing through their ample locks… I tend to keep the look of a geezer who’s had to tolerate the whiff of the Sewage Works at Becton drifting by his nostrils every time the breeze blows in the wrong direction!!! And at times like that you really don’t want to be having long hair… the shorter the better!!!… Lovely! 🙂

To Be Continued (whenever it feels right to do so)

The darkest time comes just before dawn…

Earlsdown House, September, 1990: I was walking up the stairwell of the flats (I never used the lifts because they were always filled with piss) and at the top of one flight of stairs I was greeted by shit and piss on that (half) level. I turned the corner, while doing my best to avoid it, and halfway up the next flight of 7 steps I saw the next level was covered with piss as well.

I stopped in my tracks, looked around me and numbly sat down on the stairs. The walls were covered with ignorant graffiti, the handrail was smashed up and the stench was abysmal. I was having to deal with enough in my life without coming “home” to that. But it was the shit that did it. What kind of person does that? I sat there on the stairs and just burst into tears. I was 15 and for a moment I was broken, life was so fucked up, then I felt rage… pure rage… it overwhelmed me… I knew that I couldn’t let it break me and I had to get out of there.

The rage simmered inside of me for a full ten years before it began to dispel, but I treated it as my best friend and ally. Any time I needed a bit of courage in life, I just dipped into it, and it was there for me. It made me go to Barking Central Library and read…

(at first purely about English history, and then about homo-sapiens history, and once my thirst was quenched for those subjects I just began picking out books “randomly”, and, after a while, I began to notice something)

… and it made me pass all of my exams…

(except for Social Science where I (amazingly!) got a D grade, and yet it was the lesson in which I learnt the most. I can only guess that I didn’t write down on the exam paper what the examiner wanted to read. Mr. White was our teacher, in that subject, and he was my best teacher in the whole of senior school (and Mr. Sinah was my best teacher in Junior School, not that you’re particularly interested, but just so you know that this isn’t a racial thing. Mr. Sinah was born of India, but to me he was a fine English Gentleman. He even smoked a pipe… in class!!!). I loved Mr. White’s lessons. He was the best. He cared about us and he cared that he empowered us. He taught us our rights, he taught us to think and he taught us to debate. And yet, based on my result, the current school (league table result) system – which appears only to train children to repeat what they’re told to say, rather than developing their ability to think about what they are saying – probably considered Mr. White to be a failure, even though he was the best. And if that is true, then what does that say about the diabolical “education” system that our children continue to endure)

… then it let me fuck that kind of “education” off…

(I hated almost every moment of senior school – FUCKING TIE!!! FUCKING UNIFORM!!! FUCKING CORPORATE SUIT!!!)

… and then it allowed me to travel to every habitable continent, and every corner of the exceptionally beautiful Islands to which I feel so attached and feel so lucky to call my home.

What I’m trying to say is that it can come through rage, waking-up, but the rage has to be focused, and, that you’re darkest moment can also be the moment that leads you into the most light. Your power is within.