סָאָלָ ( Samech Alef Lamed ) – SaALa        

אִם-אָמַרְתִּי, מָטָה רַגְלִי; חַסְדְּךָ יְהוָה, יִסְעָדֵנִי. – תהילים פרק צד, פסוק יח

Psalms 94:18 When I said, My foot slippeth; thy mercy, O LORD, held me up.

“Si dicebam motus est pes meus, misericordia tua Domine adiuvabit me.”

סָאָלָיָה SaALaYA Sealiah – To confound the wicked and the proud, to exalt the humiliated and the fallen. Governs vegetation. Loves learning, much aptitude.

Influence time and dates 14:41 – 15:00 30^th October until the 4^th November inclusively

SEALIAH.  His attribute is  Mover of All Things .  He corresponds to the holy divine name of  Hobo  in the language of the people of Quito.  His ray commences from the 221st degree up to the 225th degree inclusive, corresponding to the twenty third decade and to the angel called Sesme, under the influence of the Sun.  He rules over the following days: 3rd May, 14th July, 24th September, 5th December, 15th February.  The invocation is done from 2:40pm till 3:00pm. 

He serves to confound the evil and the haughty; he lifts up all those who are humiliated and fallen.  This angel rules over vegetation; he bears life and health in all that breathe and influences the principal agents of Nature.  The person born under this influence will love to learn; he will have many resources and facilities.

By meditating on this name you will acknowledge that the Light of the Creator is the ultimate source of all prosperity and well-being. With this Name you summon the forces of prosperity and sustenance and ask for the strength to keep your ego in check when the other checks start rolling in.

The negative side of this angel rules over the atmosphere; he incites great heat or cold, great aridity or excessive humidity.

Sealiah report:

Contact begins with the impression of roots reaching down into my field of vision from above, superimposed on the physical room.

“Angel, show thyself that I may know thee.” [A root-ball appears, in the shape of a face with roots for a beard; I sense but do not see a tree trunk above, like a mural crown. The image is still, simply growing slowly.]

“Angel, what is thy office concerning me?” [Slowly and with great strength, the roots grow until they have covered the walls of the room. Many small golden nodules appear suspended in space, sending out fine golden filaments like a mycelial web. Presently, painlessly, they penetrate my skin. The interior of my body becomes lit up in my mind’s eye, the same nodules and filaments forming webs in the shapes of my organs. It is like a brain in the shape of a body. No words. An intelligence rests in my belly; an intelligence in my heart sends out waves like subsonic messages. The interior of my skull is a smooth, empty space in which images flicker.]

“Angel, how shall I understand these things?” [A thick voice speaks, very briefly:] _Not with thinking or words. Feel._ [My body relaxes, becomes stable. I watch my hand writing these words the way a leaf twists in the breeze–unpremeditated, simply being. My feet become warm and seem to sink into the floor; the base of my spine blends into the seat, golden roots moving quietly and patiently downward. I am in intimate connection with everything around me, interpenetrating. I can almost hear the voices of the plants in the garden behind me, feel the explorations of ants in the walls, the breathing of my neighbor in the next apartment. There is nothing to do. My movements simply occur, without thought or forethought. I find myself trimming the right-hand candle before I knew it needed it.]

(After some time of very pleasant sitting:) “Angel, what message shall I bear to Rune Soup and those who talk to angels?” [The voice talks in slow, deliberate waves:] _Now is the time to be quiet and still: the time will come for rising up. This will be known in the body. Don’t overthink. It is good to connect with the other-than-human in your body as well as in the mind. What you need is already present. Let your roots sustain your heart, and your crown be as the flowers that rise up for a season and are cut down: each thought beautiful and passing._

[I see my thoughts as calendula and hyssop, the closest flowers; each thought drops many seeds around my feet that grow into similar flowers. Now the whole room is thick with roots and new shoots coming from them. I feel something growing within me, rising in easy spirals from the base of my spine; I am twisting and swaying and filling with life. Leaves push from my mouth and ears, and flowers like marigolds fill my eye-sockets. I hear a deep, slow, contented laugh as contact fades, the flowers still in my eyes.]

Second invocation, 11/6/23

Contact begins with a downward sensation moving from my chest to my belly to my hips. I feel a fullness below me, and richness at my roots.

“Angel, show thyself that I may know thee.” Slowly, a golden face with a long beard like grass roots, and hair like leaves, becomes visible above the altar. I am vaguely aware of giant hands holding the walls of the room. A thick, pulsing hum fills my ears, so strongly that I feel the urge to slip into unconsciousness.

“Angel, what is thy message at this time?” A heavy, rich bass: _They sleep golden in the dark places, the dead in the ground beneath you, and they support you. Let them. Why all this talking? What you need is felt, seen, tasted, known in your body._ A visible, physical, literal light begins flashing around the room, as if reflected by something shiny; I am unable to locate its source. _Do you think to mount to heaven by borrowed wings or words? Your own two feet are better suited, and the path lies already beneath you and about you: your mortal world is already the dwelling-place of unseen forces and angels. Embrace it in your body—walk barefoot on the wet leaves. Live in the heaven that is about you, and in time other realms will open, even as they have opened for your ancestors, into more than earthly depths and heights._

_And lest you stumble or lose your way, these signs are laid before you: the rain in its season, the sun in its time, in its time the seed, in its season the harvest. Do not hurry: the earth already knows the way, for she is of old the bride of eternity, and you are her child, and your seasons come upon you without your thinking, without your asking. Therefore rest in the time of rest, and I will move you in the time of moving. Even as a leaf before the wind will I dance you, and bring you again to the place of rest._

I see many golden figures, shrouded and swaying as if in a dance or trance, passing through the walls of the room and moving around me. The room grows (physically, literally) very bright, then dim, then bright again several times in quick succession, as the sun beams through scudding clouds. The dancing figure come close around me, and I know them for long-dead ancestors, vibrant and laughing, and my heart is light. One stops face to face with me: her blue eyes are very bright, gazing into mine, and the freckles on her cheeks are clear and distinct. Then a wind seems to blow, the light changes, and they are gone. I feel myself as if rooted in place, my hips and feet held and fed by roots that reach beneath the earth.

The golden face turns simultaneously to the left and right, becoming Janus-like, and says, out of both mouths: _I am growth and decay, the road that begins and the journey’s end, and all the way between. Who walks in my name and have faith are not lost, however they wander; all places are home to them, and all the world feeds them, though they seek not after its feasts._

I see lilies growing through the floor, the camas root native to this place. I see forget-me-nots on a mountain trail, and a wide-spreading grove of yew in an overgrown churchyard. The church is in ruins, but the sun rising over the wall has a golden face, and rain falls from its beard like honey and sweet oil. It is very still, and without noticing how, I am back in my room, before the altar.