Snowy Topped Mountain

I don’t make many waves anymore
But lately I been feelin this itch
I can’t explain it
It feels like summer
It feels like winter
It feels like fall
It feels like…springtime
Funny thoughts rise up
Words come
Feelings groove along
They flow and taste bubbly red with sparkles
Sometimes I feel salty tears
Leaking from my eyes
I feel laughter erupting from my lungs
I feel and hear my heart beating
I feel so alive
Something whispers…
This is what a human being is
Don’t forget
But you are not just a human being it whispers
You are an ocean of stars
And all those stars are connected
Each finds their place
I found something it seems
In all this chaos that made it real
I found a love I am not worthy of
I found a golden eyed girl who loves me
She makes me feel like the sky is kissing me
She loved me when I didn’t love myself
Her smile makes me feel stars
Before I found love
I left my head on the road
I left this nation behind
I left my faith on the road
I let my name go
I forgot my face
I lost my family
They turned away from me
They cast out their sweet son and brother
I had a huge wipeout and then two
Then three then the Tao
I felt the force behind the waves
I found this rhythm inside me
Something wonderful
Something so filled with light
All else faded into black
All my doubts just flew away
Like bluebirds
I almost faded into black too
But as my mind was dissolving
And I got all wobbly and such
And began to dissapear
A hand from nowhere reached out
And it steadied me
Then it pointed to this mountain
And I heard on the wind

Go there
Go there
Go there

But there was no path or road
So I made a path
But I got lost so quick
And then I came upon a forest
So dark and deep
It felt like the bluest blue
And like the darkest night
And it seemed like monsters were everywhere
And they were going to eat me
Then something called to me on the wind again

This way
This way
This way

Before I knew it
I was out of the blue woods
Heading toward a snowy topped mountain
The past feels forever ago now
I made friends along the way
I let them see through me
No apologies
Most turned away
But some came close
So close we could almost
See into each other’s hearts
I love to see people become
I really do
I love to see them find their groove
I really do
I was lost once too
Like all the rest
But now wherever I am
I’m never lost
But all those years ago
I was a fool living for nothing
But I found something
I found…no one is true or right
There is no set path
I found…within myself
Deep mystery
Now I have no creed
Now I have no name
But I am a citizen now of a golden city
All of humanity lives there
I don’t remember how I got here
The wind reminds me
This is where all human beings live
Those who were and are and will be
A city my ancestors built
Something sees me now
Where I felt alone before
Now something is here with me
Something lets me know
This journey to the big mountain is worth it
Somehow I know this
Something lets me know
You will not fail again
And I won’t
I won’t quit
I won’t stop
What does it all mean
I wish I could tell you
I wish I could take away
All the pain and doubt
I wish I could make the way clear
But how would that help anyone
I am someone worthy I found
I am someone who will not steal from you
I am someone who will not stab you in the back
I may even show you my flowers
I have not found the mountain yet
But I won’t ever stop trying to get there
I see it a good ways off in the distance still
Let me get back to it
I got some walking to do

—smelly

Behold, Your Daimon

Where does great inspiration and expression come from?

What force drives the madman and great artist or athlete?

Now hold on here, what am I talking about.

Some cannot speak or look inside themselves.

They are storms on earth.

This is a force inside of us, but not our ego.

The Daimon/Daemon is a shapeshifter. 

Part of your mind you can’t pin down. 

You have to feel and think what it feels and thinks. 

It’s like a storm.

We have erected social hedges against it. 

It is like a volcanic eruption. 

Not rational. 

The Daimon feels what nature wants to do through you. 

It is nature in you. 

It told Socrates what not to do, not what to do. 

I listen to my daimon. 

I have seen and communicated with it in many ways.

It is will. 

Fate.

An impersonal force for some. 

Some can integrate it. 

You have to negotiate.

It can punish you and doesn’t care to keep you safe. 

You can give it too much. 

You can surrender to it. 

Hitler followed his nonstop. 

Trump follows his Daimon without question. 

There is no introspection, which is its weakness.

It is not a force of good, it is a force of nature. 

It is immoral, neutral. 

If you don’t think you have one, you are a fool and a muppet. 

A blind robot. 

The ego can negotiate with it, mediates it. 

You don’t delete your ego!

God no!

Daimon does what it does. 

It is what it is.

Your effectiveness depends on your own quality and strength around your will.

I am constantly negotiating with it. 

Don’t surrender to it. 

Don’t ignore it. 

You make yourself irrelevant to deny this force. 

You have to dance and wrestle with it. 

Use your ego’s moral discernment. 

Only you can mediate it.

Honor it. 

You have to eat and work and get along. 

It doesn’t want your best. 

It wants to move through you. 

I have listened often to my Daimon and jumped when it pushed.

It creates psychic disease and physical. 

It makes you into a ufo nutcase. 

Or a conspiracy nutcase. 

Or a trump zombie. 

That is a group consciousness.

You become mindless. 

Doing the bidding of pure will.

Pretty crazy move to go all in with it.

But I did.

It can posses you.

It is Legion.

You can reason with it but it is not reasonable.

You can create a space the Daimon sees when one is open to it. 

You have to acknowledge it and give it space. 

This is part of you, but not you. 

Nature doesn’t change if you don’t understand.

The storm will always be there. 

It has tremendous power. 

Tremendous!

It loves to be acknowledged and given space.

The trickster. 

You have to sharpen your inner hearing.

I was quite amazed to meet it. 

In every psychedelic trip, it is there.

In your dreams you are always meeting it.

You can come to feel its feelings and thoughts.

To give it voice is to sing like the stars.

I speak of forbidden things and forgotten dreams.

I write with my Daimon and make art with it.

It is life. 

It flows in everything.

Once you see it, you can never go back.

Wisdom becomes a curse in away.

We are innocent for only a whsiper of time.

It is guiding us, even into a wall.

Schopenhauer knew it well, when he said, the Will is blind. 

Guide it, focus it and you will go far.

Ignore it at your peril.

Warriors of Love

Virtus Unita Fortior…Virtues United are Stronger

“Then out spake brave Horatius, the captain of the Gate: To every man upon this earth death cometh soon or late.

And how can man die better than facing fearful odds, for the ashes of his fathers and the temples of his Gods?”

Throw it all in the 🔥

enflamed

i felt it in my groin first

the heat moved up

through my veins

i felt a burning inside my chest

like lava hitting the ocean

pressure building

skin sweating

fire erupting

through every pore

enflamed with holy rapture

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.

strange tides

moon shows

ocean slows

heart flows

mind blows

body glows

daimon knows