The Devil Speaks

DISCLAIMER: Where there is potential, there is danger. If you call a ghost, you must know how to get rid of it. Beware of unearned wisdom.

I did a recording on YouTube awhile ago, a reading from Carl Jung’s Red Book, recently reposted here. This morning had a very fun interaction with a young man, a butterfly. At least he sounded like a young man. He reminded me of myself, probably more intelligent than I, maybe, 😜

🦋

He wanted to share this dialogue from the Red Book with me below. As I had been talking about communing with our Daemon(s)/Daimon(s), your creative will or genius. I think genius is pure will unfettered, powerful and terrible. I’d read this dialogue before. But in a way I felt these invisible creatures of the unconscious were speaking through this interaction to me directly.

We went on for a bit back and forth in the video comments. Reminded me of one of my favorite poems below, “Nothing Gold Can Stay.” He was almost as fast 💨 as me. I’d met my match I felt. I was playing a part with him. I was sincere, but I kind of got caught up in the energy of the conversation. It is rare I have found anyone to go toe to toe with my spontaneous style. He was fast. I really enjoyed the flow. I pointed to some practices that had helped me. But I don’t have any answers or questions about the inner Abyss really.

“Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.”

—Robert Frost – “Nothing Gold Can Stay”

The dialogue below is in reference to mythological creatures of the unconscious, the Cabiri. The invisible priests of Zeus divided into Good and Evil groups. Also maybe related or are the machine elves people meet on psychedelics this is a deep ancient hole in our unconscious. This may be Legion in the bible as well.

These are the Gnomes and Dwarves of myth. They were famed metal-workers, dwarfish sons of the god Hephaistos (Hephaestus), who served their father at his Lemnian forge. Like their mother Kabeiro (Cabeiro) the pair were also sea-divinities who came to the aid of sailors in distress. Related to daemons. we don’t know much about them. perhaps related to Atlantean myth.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cabeiri

Daemons

Perhaps the good Cabiri. A protecting spirit. The belief in such spirits existed both in Greece and at Rome. The Greeks called them δαίμονες (daimones) and appear to have believed in them from the earliest times, though Homer does not mention them. Hesiod speaks of δαίμονες, and says that they were 30,000 in number, and that they dwelled on earth unseen by mortals, as the ministers of Zeus, and as the guardians of men and of justice. He further conceives them to be the souls of the righteous men who lived in the golden age of the world.

In mythology, the current race of Humans is a degraded version, 3rd Age of Humans, 1/4 of what were. Lord of the Rings is based on these myths.

Did Carl reconnect with these beings? The ones people are meeting today? Profound implications if so. I have met these beings inside myself as well.

Carl had a voluntary confrontation with the unconscious through willful engagement of what Jung later termed “mythopoetic imagination”. In his introduction to Liber Novus, Sonu Shamdasani explains:

From December 1913 onward, he carried on in the same procedure: deliberately evoking a fantasy in a waking state, and then entering into it as into a drama. These fantasies may be understood as a type of dramatized thinking in pictorial form…. In retrospect, he recalled that his scientific question was to see what took place when he switched off consciousness. The example of dreams indicated the existence of background activity, and he wanted to give this a possibility of emerging, just as one does when taking mescaline.

Interesting. “The similarities here are undeniable. Jung’s Cabiri work under the earth; while the Machine Elves live underground in a dome-shaped room. The Cabiri are described as mysterious and creative powers, and the Machine Elves can create unbelievable, fractal objects and new autonomous beings, not to mention the similarities in terms of knowledge, wisdom. Those who have visited the DMT realm also often describe encountering jesters, which could also be associated with Jung’s Cabiri as they, according to The Red Book, also lay all sorts of nasty tricks.”

I have seen these fractals myself. I have also met these jesters. What is going on in our unconscious? You had to be initiated in Greece to commune with them. Perhaps the Tarot is an artifact or doorway into the mythopoetic imagination these beings inhabit.

“This could indicate that an ancient pre-Hellenic cult had experimented with altered states of consciousness, either by using psychedelic substances or other meditative and mystical practices that initiated such powerful and moving visions.“

Just old myths, right? Perhaps the DMT realm and our unconscious mind are two faces to the same dimension, which includes infinite vaults of esoteric wisdom and knowledge. Perhaps we ought to frequent this dimension more often, or at least once during our lifetime on this earth, a visit which could unlock deeply-hidden treasures that would help us navigate not only our material lives, but also consciousness itself.

Well, I went and I have to say I feel this realm is more real than real. And the myths say this world Earth/Eden is the best game in town. See the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Make this life count is what they told me. I saw the consequences of all my actions to date, similar to a death review. It woke me right up to how I was wasting my life.

From Carl Jung’s Red Book:

What serviceable forms rise from your body, you thieving abyss! These appear as elemental spirits, dressed in wrinkled garb, Cabiri, with delightful misshapen forms, young and yet old, dwarfish, shriveled, unspectacular bearers of secret arts, possessors of ridiculous wisdom, first formations of the unformed gold, worms that crawl from the liberated egg of the Gods, incipient ones, unborn, still invisible. What should your appearance be to us?

What new arts do you bear up from the inaccessible treasure chamber, the sun yoke from the egg of the Gods. You still have roots in the soil like plants and you are animal faces / of the human body; you are foolishly sweet, uncanny, primordial, and earthly. We cannot grasp your essence, you gnomes, you object souls.

You have your origin in the lowest. Do you want to become giants, you Tom Thumb? Do you belong to the followers of the son of the earth? Are you the earthly feet of the Godhead? 

What do you want? 

Speak!

The Cabiri: “We come to greet you as the master of the lower nature.”

I: ”Are you speaking to me? Am I your master?”

The Cabiri: “You were not, but you are now.”

I: “So you declare. And so be it. Yet what should I do with your following?”

The Cabiri: “We carry what is not to be carried from below to above. We are the juices that rise secretly, not by force, but sucked out of inertia and affixed to what is growing. We know the unknown ways and the inexplicable laws of living matter. We carry up what slumbers in the earthly; what is dead and yet enters into the living. We do this slowly and easily; what you do in vain in your human way. We complete what is impossible for you.”

I: “What should I leave to you? Which troubles can I transfer to you? What should I not do, and what do you do better?”

The Cabiri: “You forget the lethargy of matter. You want to pull up with your own force what can only rise slowly; ingesting itself affixed to itself from within. Spare yourself the trouble, or you will disturb our work.”

1: “Should I trust you, you untrustworthy ones, you slaves and slave souls? Get to work. Let it be so.”

“It seems to me that I gave you a long time. Neither did I descend to you nor did I disturb your work. I lived in the light of day and did the work of the day. What did you do?”

The Cabiri: “We hauled things up, we built. We placed stone upon stone. Now you stand on solid ground.”

1: “I feel the ground more solid. I stretch upward.”

The Cabiri: “We forged a flashing / sword for you, with which you can cut the knot that entangles you.”

1: “I take the sword firmly in my hand. I lift it for the blow.”

The Cabiri: “We also place before you the devilish, skillfully twined knot that locks and seals you. Strike, only sharpness will cut through it.”

1: “Let me see it, the great knot, all wound round! Truly a masterpiece of inscrutable nature, a wily natural tangle of roots grown through one another! Only Mother Nature, the blind weaver, could work such a tangle! A great snarled ball and a thousand small knots, all artfully tied, intertwined, truly; a human brain! Am I seeing straight? What did you do? You set my brain before me! Did you give me a sword so that its flashing sharpness slices through my brain? What were you thinking of?”

The Cabiri: “The womb of nature wove the brain, the womb of the earth gave the iron. So the Mother gave you both: entanglement and severing.”

1: “Mysterious! Do you really want to make me the executioner of my own brain?”

The Cabiri: “It befits you as the master of the lower nature. Man is entangled in his brain and the sword is also given to him to cut through the entanglement.”

I: “What is the entanglement you speak of?”

The Cabiri: “The entanglement is your madness, the sword is the overcoming of madness.”

I: “You offsprings of the devil, who told you that I am mad? You earth spirits, you roots of clay and excrement, are you not yourselves the root fibers of my brain? You polyp-snared rubbish, channels for juice knotted together, parasites upon parasites, all sucked up and deceived, secretly climbing up over one another by night, you deserve the flashing sharpness of my sword. You want to persuade me to cut through you? Are you contemplating self-destruction? How come nature gives birth to creatures that she herself wants to destroy?”

The Cabiri: “Do not hesitate. We need destruction since we ourselves are the entanglement. He who wishes to conquer new land / brings down the bridges behind him. Let us not exist anymore. We are the thousand canals in which everything also flows back again into its origin.”

1: “Should I sever my own roots? Kill my own people, whose king I am? Should I make my own tree wither? You really are the sons of the devil.”

The Cabiri: “Strike, we are servants who want to die for their master.”

I: “What will happen if I strike?”

The Cabiri: “Then you will no longer be your brain, but will exist beyond your madness. Do you not see, your madness is your brain, the terrible entanglement and intertwining in the connection of the roots, in the nets of canals, the confusion of fibers. Being engrossed in the brain makes you wild. Strike! He who finds the way rises up over his brain. You are a Tom Thumb in the brain, beyond the brain you gain the form of a giant. We are surely sons of the devil, but did you not forge us out of the hot and dark? So we have something of its nature and of yours. The devil says that everything that exists is also worthy, since it perishes. As sons of the devil we want destruction, but as your creatures we want our own destruction. We want to rise up in you through death. We are roots that suck up from all sides. Now you have everything that you need, therefore chop us up, tear us out.”

1: “Will I m’iss you as servants? As a master I need slaves.”

The Cabiri: “The master serves himself”

1: “You ambiguous sons of the devil, these words are your undoing. May my sword strike you, this blow shall be valid forever.”

The Cabiri “Woe, woe! What we feared, what we desired, has come to pass.”

The Cabiri were the deities celebrated at the mysteries of Samothrace. They were held to be promoters of fertility and protectors of sailors. Friedrich Creuzer and Schelling held them to be the primal deities of Greek mythology, from which all others developed (Symbolik und Mytlwlogie der alten Volker [Leipzig: Leske, 1810-23]; The Deities ofsamothrace [1815], introduced and translated by R. F. Brown [Missoula, MT: Scholars Press, 1977]). Jung had copies of both of these works. They appear in Goethe’s Faust, part 2, act 2. Jung discussed the Cabiri in Transformations and Symbols of the Libido (1912, CW B §209-II). In 1940 Jung wrote: “The Cabiri are, in fact, the mysterious creative powers, the gnomes who work under l the earth, i.e., below the threshold of consciousness, in order to supply us with lucky ideas. As imps and hobgoblins, however, they also lay all sorts of nasty tricks, keeping back names and dates that were ‘on the tip of the tongue,’ making us say the wrong thing, etc. They give an eye to everything that has not already been anticipated by consciousness and the functions at its disposal … deeper insight will show that the primitive and archaic qualities of the inferior function conceal all sorts of significant relationships and symbolic meanings, and instead of laughing off the Cabiri as ridiculous Tom Thumbs he may begin to suspect that they are a treasure-house of hidden wisdom” (‘~ttempt at a psychological interpretation of the dogma of the trinity,” CW II, §244). Jung commented on the Cabiri scene in Faust in Psychology and Alchemy (1944, CW 12, §203f). The dialogue with the Cabiri that takes place here is not found in Black Book 4, but is in the Handwritten Drift. It may have been written separately; if so it would have been written prior to the summer of 1915.

There’s No Place Like Home

I can’t explain this post. It’s a blog entry from another place I write. A story of shadows and fictions and finding my self here. It’s long and personal, so maybe TLDR. Just some notes from OZ.

Follow the yellow brick road…

DISCLAIMER: I don’t know what I’m doing on XXXX. I usually just flow. I should probably post more in my own thread, but it happens as it happens. I didn’t think I was seeking anything here, but I suppose since my own high weirdness, I seem to have things happen beyond my understanding. I was curious. It’s funny I wrote so much. I had nothing to say. It was a dance with the devil and god and then my self. I am not a mystic or follower of any sect. But I am going to write about what someone might claim to be mystical. I don’t deny anything. I don’t know. I actually write to what I imagine as a grand Intelligence. Silly, I know.

Daemonic Contact

Recently there have been ripples from old friends in my life. I don’t share any of this silliness with anyone else. I made the mistake of letting people see inside my head. I am not a crazy person. I am like everyone else, moved by my emotions at times and thoughts. My mind is generally needing to be focused on something or I turn off more and more. I live for the cut off moments more and more, no work, no family, no friends, but my Den pack. It’s strange to look around and know it will all blow away. 

Recently after letting most of the traditions I explored go, I had a real drive to dig into the esoteric side of the XXXX phenomenon. When in Rome. To see how my experience compared to others’. I had delved deep before bobbing back up. I had some high weirdness I just let go unexplained. But it came back up. I never thought I had met any aliens on my journey, I saw them as spirits and ancient sages and shadows and helpers of shamans. I had known nothing about Gnosticism or the Perennial tradition. I didn’t know Greek thought well. So I was a babe in the woods. I knew nothing about Eastern religion either. What I had tried to let go, seemed to be coming back with a vengeance.

As I had begun and walked my turn into this strange place a few years ago, I had heard whispers of something as I sunk into my studies. I sought their source. I found in the esoteric traditions much idolizing seeking a conversation with something called your inner guiding Daimon. This intrigued me, but damn, the way seemed so daunting to attempt. It seemed like way too much work. I sought out some Thelemite types to see what they were like. Naaaa. Having to make my own way burned in me. At every turn XXXX would accuse me of solipsism. Naaaa. I was deconstructing things and making weird connections.

I had met XXXX a few years ago on XXXX at the beginning for me and his knowledge was seductive and intense during my trips down under. I didn’t care about eschatology or religion or ufos or tech, I went existential, so how weird we would meet. I really enjoyed the pointers I was getting from XXXX and where they led, some tasted bitter, some sweet. He was just one input output stream. He was one of the few who let me play. Though I often frustrated him. He thought I was showing off, but I was just following a protocol. Share what comes. I followed most of his prompts deeper down the rabbit hole. 

I would come and share with XXXX what I found. Most of the time he would say he felt sorry for me, called me dumb or found me too impish or selfish. I was perplexed. That just pushed me on. I’d show that dumb old man, I muttered. I’d learn what he was talking about and find what was behind it all yet. Haha. It was fun. And it got really weird.

My studies showed me how my mind needed discipline. How raw I was. How exposed my heart was. So I got to work. I felt all this was part of what made me work and I was right. I took a good look at my self and found some balance. It’s a daily walk. I felt out of my depth for sure here. I liked that. I liked not knowing what was going on and I gave my self to it. I took another leap. 

Back to the Daemons. As I traveled through my inner mind amazing synchronicities would happen that silenced any doubt I was in the right space. I took them as signposts from a presence I felt but was afraid of. What had happened to me? Had I had a schizophrenic breakdown? I was not a depressive person. I was tired in life. It was a struggle for me. Health issues forced me into uncharted waters at work for the first time. I was tired trying to deal with the world inputs that didn’t match up to my inputs. 

Things down that rabbit hole led me to better balance and more layers of my mind. I wasn’t scared. I was in wonderment at my mind. I suppose I had found the inner mirror and began to look into it. Life felt plastic and malleable. Could I really use my will to have any life I wanted? Was Love under will all of it? I began to reshape my self. I found ways to compensate for my broken antennas. I grew new ones. 

As my focus increased, so did my productivity. As questions left me, what was underneath was visible. It was shiny and dented. So I hammered out the dents. Inside reflected an intense light, it blinded me in a flash. In time I would find a better way to look at the reflection of light inside. By looking at it reflected in a midnight lake under a full moon. What is this I wondered? Surely I am just making it all up I thought jokingly. Others though could see this leaking out of me now. I was clumsy with it. I was zapping people. I was zapping my self. Where did all this energy come from? I had to temper it. But only a few could see it and open up to it. Most tuned me out. I liked being invisible and thought of as a cracked pot. No expectations 😉 We seemed to talk our own language of light. Help came when I needed it.

So Plato and Socrates spoke of this inner light they called Daimon I found out. Could this force that I had jokingly found to be like a trickster and called the green man, be this Holy Guardian Angel Thelma spoke of, Plato’s Daimon? This concept I came to realize was another way to think other than reason and logic, this was the land of the oracles who had gone silent when our self awareness may have risen. It seemed a slippery slope to pursue this. Possibly leading to madness. But I kept hearing this voice, follow the way, follow your heart. Don’t follow anyone or thing else. I studied all I could for hints to the Daimon. It was fascinating. My mother would accuse me of consorting with the Devil if she knew what I was up to. That probably just pushed me into deeper water. I was intrigued delving into these forbidden thoughts. I wasn’t becoming more scared, I was grinning more and more as I let concepts go and what I thought I understood. I was open. Totally open. 

I could feel life in a way like never before. I had never let my self slow down and breathe. I met others along the way who pointed me, helped me slow down. They came to me in a way where I didn’t doubt the communication at all. I didn’t feel like I was alone. I felt connected to something. The search for the Daimon led me to Greece and the Renaissance and Tarot and the Hermetic tradition. Dionysius the Areopagite said these Daimons were elemental intelligences. That clicked. The gods as the progenitor of our emotions. I was not being overwhelmed, there was a gentleness and power to how I discovered all this. But chaos was always there. It was energetic. Not manic. Focused and relaxed at once.

As the stories go, this Daimon mediates contact between us perhaps and a transpersonal consciousness. I was hearing and seeing things. Not voices. Inner dialogues. Shadows. I was making strange connections with strange attractors. I was making art and letting this flow through me. I didn’t stop it. Aristotle and others put a stop to this nonsense and setup a perimeter around the polis using logic and rationality. Maybe the best move at the time. I was wandering out into a deep dark wood. And somehow a goat had showed up and kept me company. 

I now see the goat was my Daimon. And I know I am here in the middle of 3D life, just a reflection of reality we can’t see. I found a framework in Magick and Hermetics and Qabbalah that seemed to allow more direct communication with some vast inner void that vibrates symbols and maths. I seemed to intuitively know how to move in this space. I would experience something and then think about it and learn what had maybe happened. It seems whatever these esoteric traditions were hinting at, but not saying, I found naturally. It freaked me out. I went into a mode shutting down my memory and thoughts. I turned off the projector just like that. But the weirdness kept going. But I just became a witness of it. 

During these experiences I attempted shamanic rituals that seemed to work. I made art, began to write. I seemed to be able to speak with inner presences that spoke through all sorts of ways. XXXX usually hit me over the head and humored me perhaps. I showed up. What was he gonna do? So I began to attack others’ points of view as viscous skeptic. I turned that on my self. I realized I knew nothing and suspected I couldn’t even trust my thoughts. I began to learn how I was being manipulated. I learned how to protect my mind. I setup defenses, by removing them. It was a fun time doing war with my own mind and the minds of others. I began to see we each had our own reality tunnels perhaps, lived in our worlds no one else can really know. They just see our Avatar, a reflection we project.

Then, finally, without my notice, weird XXXX stuff began happening in the world or I became aware of it in a strange way. I had stopped conceptualizing communication with this inner force. I looked outside. I kept an open mind. I began to see the weird connections between this outer phenomenon and the strange new way to hear the universe I had tripped on. I felt I should reflect out what was within and a take in what happened outside with no filters. They seemed connected more and more. Another leap.

I shifted from observer to participant. I found others who had learned similar ways to attune to the world around them and voice inside. I accepted I was a weirdo like them, but didn’t know why or what to do. There wasn’t anything to do really. Living this way leads to doing not doing and spontaneous action, wei wu wei, a Taoist concept. I learned a lot from the old Taoists and then forgot it 😉 I wondered if I had crossed the Abyss. It seemed maybe I had. More and more all I could say was, don’t know. 

A strange tale and journey to here or perhaps nothing special. High weirdness and cosmic triggers. It seems life has turned inside out…but I never left home.

There’s no place like home.