The Ruins of Love

Sufi Pt 1 Lyrics…

My secret beloved
Send me a secret message
Give me your soul
Give me your life

Wander like a drifter
Now on a journey

Walk into this fire embrace
Be like a salamander
Come into a source of flame
Fire transmutes to a rosebud

Don’t you know that my thought
Is better than the queen of roses?
Don’t you know my heresy
Is the essence of spirituality?

Then surrender your spirt
Surrender your life
For God I know
That darkness is better than a cage!

Walk into this fire embrace
Be like a salamander
Come into a source of flame
Fire transmutes to a rosebud

Don’t you know that my thought
Is better than the queen of roses?
Don’t you know my heresy
Is the essence of spirituality?

Then surrender your spirt
Surrender your life

For God I know
That darkness is better than a cage!

I know a palace is better than a ruin
And the owl in this world
Loves to live
In the ruins of love

I am always learning how to read better between the lines of language and life. Words are just representations. Of what, is the mystery. They are magick in a way. Evoking and caging sometimes something in us. I’ve practiced Zen now for a bit, this is the essence of Zen, to know our true nature where we are, nothing more, nothing less. 

I know a palace is better than a ruin
And the owl in this world

Loves to live
In the ruins of love

I studied these lyrics a bit years ago and meditated deeply on what is said and not said. I looked into the Sufi path and what they meant by flame and the beloved. I am not trying to be clever here, but I have felt all the deities are within us, drawn to the light/flame, as we are a shadow, a portal to the nameless faceless. The owl, in this world, loves to live in the ruin of love. I choose not to name or make distinctions. The deity is the one who I point at, when I point back at myself. This is cutting to the root. This is going headless. This is directly perceiving beyond words. 

I love Rumi, but I really know Shams, who was behind Rumi. Somehow I feel Shams is close to me and represents my secret beloved. He showed me to let the distinctions go. 

A life without love is of no account. Don’t ask yourself what kind of love you should seek, spiritual or material, divine or mundane, eastern or western…divisions only lead to more divisions. Love has no labels, no definitions. It is what it is, pure and simple. Love is the water of life. And a lover is a soul of fire! The universe turns differently when fire loves water.”

–Shams Of Tabriz

“The universe turns differently when fire loves water.”

That’s a koan. 

When I listened to this song first, I felt the flame 🔥 inside me leap. Yearning for freedom. I felt it. I felt like crying and laughing at the same time. Fire loves water.

Rumi said sell your cleverness and buy bewilderment, that’s got to be one of my favorite written poetic lines.

I think the lyrics point to the freeing of the flame within us, which is always free. This awareness transmutes us, by realizing our lives are not cages, that we are already free. This is the real Alchemy. This returns us to Eden. The world of matter is a ruin in away, a compromise, in between chaos and light.

Somehow it can know itself better in the ruin, but this world is a sham. It is not that the flame 🔥  needs escape, but that it simply is uncovered. 

The water is all around us, love is not the flame, it is the water, which the flame is attracted to. We would think flame fears water, and perhaps it does for awhile, then it seeks to dowse itself in love. When fire loves water, the universe turns differently.

If the bird can get just a glimpse of what is around it and within it, instantly it is transmuted and free. So the body is the cage. 

This awareness does not make me want to fly away, it deepens my connection, Aslan, there is no where else to go, here we are. Allah is clothed by rational thought, occulted by matter, but known through awareness. The lion. In Hebrew, 

Aslan means ‘satan‘ which means ‘lucifer/first light in the morning’ which means ‘daybreak’. The circle is closed around the point, the central sun. Everything is contained within the circle. 

⭕️

I could not always see with my real eyes 👀 I was in a cage. But I embraced the prison and it opened to Eden through my heart, to the point, naked singularity. I can’t show anyone, I can’t really tell anyone, but like knows like. We can point to it. We can sing 🎶  about it. We can dance 💃 around it. Flame 🔥 joins with 🔥 And we embrace water 💧 seemingly a crazy thing for a flame to do, and then the universe turns differently for us.I was withering in my life 10 years ago, dying. But a great wind blew through me. It lifted me high into the air and brought me face to face with the ☀️ Our source, itself only a representation. Like words, all form is just a representation.

 What appeared to trap me, turned to dust and I flew for the first time. 

But I returned, and now I rest here, in the center of it all. I rest in the chaos, in the center of my life. I feel the heat, which is behind all form and I love it, for this is loving and knowing myself. I saw what was behind all esoteric and what was occulted, what was behind all religious and secular symbols.

Where you gonna go?

Where you gonna hide from love?

The morning light dawned inside me. 

I don’t cry anymore.
I’m smiling 😊and laughing with joy.
I feel Aslan within me, laying on the savannah, roaring within. This is the true path to god/love, an ever present connection, it ends where it began, full circle. I drink deeply now from this ocean, I could hardly believe it was real. I was dying because I was thirsting for this love, but terrified of it. This never dies. Anywhere this light breaks into the world, matter forms around it, cults form, religions are born. The matter longs to connect with it or naturally is attracted to it. So we have the planets rotating around the outer sun, as what is inside us rotates around the inner sun.

Bound by gravity. 

Bound together by love. 

Sometimes I do cry 😭 because it is too damn beautiful to contain. 

I weep blood into the dirt through my cries and words.

The birds are returning.

All deity reflects love. 

All deity seeks to free us.

We are only held back through this egoic force. 

In Rumi’s allegories, amongst the free birds, the Owl and the Falcon represent the two primary options once one is freed from the cage. The Owl lives in the dark, far from civilization, only relating with its own kind, whereas the Falcon rests upon the arm of the king, staying close to the power source and maintaining his relations and connection with any and all who venture to the court. The Falcon holds a pure, open vision, flying during the day and returning to his master’s arm at night, while the Owl lives in seclusion, coming out in the dark, lost without the guidance of a master. The Falcon represents a follower who has fallen off track, one who has insight but has pointed it in a skewed direction. Falcon as an exemplary option working in contrast with the Owl who has lost his way after enlightenment.

For Rumi, the last and most powerful bird is the Phoenix, a bird so exquisite it nearly plays the role of God himself. The Phoenix is rare, and when sighted acts as an omen, serving the purpose of reminding humans to stay in awe of God’s power. The Phoenix reminds one to soak up moments with the divine because they may be fleeting and far between. The Phoenix is quite likely an unreal creature and therefore its existence can only rely on faith. The Phoenix reminds us to have faith even when we cannot see it, to hold God close and be open to any help He may have to offer us because He is always there.

The pagan and the religious and secular all experience life differently perhaps but rotate around the same source, are of the same stuff. 

The fire is the force, the purpose, the will, that pushes us through life. 

The bird knows the way back. 

I can’t judge the paths others take in life, but I can see the intensity of the 🔥 within them. I call out to it in others. Tempt them to let it break free, as they tempt me. Passion reminds us of this contact with the unseen, it celebrates it in whatever form it burns. 

All words can provide guidance, but no answers ultimately. I feel that we all must search for the things that we love and feel passionately about and then follow them until death do us part.

I hope all can come to know this freedom.

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

Slouching Toward Bethlehem

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in the sands of the desert.

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?”

—William Butler Yeats – The Second Coming

—-
No, no one can or wants to take over the world.

Be free knowing there is no end.

Just an uncovering.

That is joyful!

The sky is singing about it.

The earth is groaning for it.

We only destroy the things we want by our grip or live in peace with what we have. 

All of creation wants this technological monster to stop devouring the earth. 

Creation wants man to cease to be termites to the earth. 

The Native Americans say their god has no rules. 

Only ceremonies to know it better. 

That is the true source. 

The true nameless faceless source knows us through the imagination and our emotions and our thoughts.

In fact, your thoughts are its thought. 

In fact, you are one of its thoughts. 

There are many cunning thieves who have given themselves to darkness devouring the weak hearted and minded.

They are playing their parts well. 

To help wake us up.

They give into fear.

Fear not. 

I ride on a pale horse. 

I watch and listen and gather my strength. 

For there is yet a great thing required of me by the highest. 

And I shall gladly give my life so that life may become. 

That is what god calls each of us to. 

To be warriors of the sun and moon. 

If you are quiet and you listen and you see with your real eyes it’s clear as day. 

You can see as Emerson and Whitman and Epictetus.

You will feel the call on you when you let your grip on your life go. 

The veil is thin.

If you are humble and listen, you can see through this false industrial monster we have created and that we all feed. 

It lives on division and hatred and fear.

It probably has a divine purpose as all things light and dark do. 

Whitman saw the rising of the monster in the civil war, he was a prophet of love.

He showed us how to build a boat of love to sail across the turbulent abyss. 

Epictetus gave us a way to master our fear on earth. 

Emerson found a way back to the sky. 

In spite of all the turmoil on earth, there is a clear voice on the wind. 

A call to love.

A call to reunite.

And if we be worthy, to walk the rainbow bridge back to the source of all being. 

What are we to do?

Join our minds and hearts together and know ourselves, remember ourselves. 

All of creation will rise up to help you. 

Know that every word spoken or written or thought are inside you already.

Stop looking to others.

It ain’t in no book or ritual. 

It is sleeping or alive and awake in each of us. 

We only have to accept it and remember it. 

That monster that slouches toward Bethlehem can’t hurt one who knows themselves. 

The goddess sits next to the source, she is no whore.

There is no 1, 2 or 3, there is only One, and we all have a part of it. 

Most live in duality, which is an illusion, nothing is separate.

If you fear, if you are divided, if you divide, you serve chaos, you are the katechon, you will be overcome. 

That was your choice, one of the few you have. 

I don’t believe there is one destiny per one person that is unchangeable. 

Careful though how you approach the gods above, or they may turn you into a smelly goat. 

Each god is just an aspect of this.

There are just great magnetic forces that draw certain elements to them. 

But you can overcome them with the power of Will. 

Maybe all of this is just a way to sort the wheat and the chaff.

To find thoughts that can navigate the darkness without being corrupted. 

So what shall it be?

Fear or love?

For love knows no fear.

I will lead, I do not follow. 

I stand and I care for any bird that shows up on my step.

I won’t go looking for a fight. 

I’ll bide my time and strike when the beast is so close, I feel its hot breath on my neck. 

And then I will drive my blade home, into its black heart.

I know then that light will break forth from it.

I have seen it.  

That monster, is me. 

You are that monster.

It is all our concentrated anger and fear.

That’s what is happening. 

Aleister Crowley and all the great artists are beings of light, connected to their Will and filled with love. 

They are stars and so are we, or have the chance to be.

Love is the law.

Love under Will. 

They have brought us back from the brink of industrial annihilation. 

I will help them. 

The great secret chiefs are alive in us.

We shall meet them in the sky and we will laugh, and will cry no more.

Seven Petals of Love

From the Interwebs…

I. Heart to heart, smitten by inner thunder, and the veil between our souls is torn asunder. Naked feelings, purity of our being, and no more doubt to stop what we are seeing. Eye to eye, beyond the world of form, as we transcend the voices of the storm. No more division, only sounds of bliss, as we dissolve in an eternal kiss.

II. I believed, but that only caused me to doubt, and I could not be devout, for the belief could be wrong, and I could not complete the rapturous song, but now I see it is a call of destiny, and the song is flowering, it is all-devouring, a passion so pure I drop a tear, but of blood red in lyrics that are shed into a shoreless sea of love and beauty.

III. My love is now infinite, it is embracing all time without limit of any kind, a never ending source of rapture sublime. I cannot shake it, like a dream or a thought, it cannot be fought, this love I’ve got. When the sun is standing still, this love I still feel, and when the moon is dim, and the earth is grim, it is still aflame, this love without shame, without desire, pure will, on fire.

IV. Dancing in a trance of romance, without a dancer, only the dance, the free movement of circumstance, like the planets and moon floating in a swoon, my true will in motion, an act of devotion, for union with the one, the all, and none, for weal or for woe, above or below, with a smile or a tear, with the blues or a cheer, for my law is, Do what you WILL with LOVE and no fear.

V. Love does not fade like a romantic serenade, even when we are apart, there is the eternal song of the heart, and no matter how distant from each other we may be, we are still united by the arms of eternity, and still we converse in the inner universe, with feelings beyond sense, without pretense, with words without letters, meaning without fetters.

VI. I love you more than words can convey, but here I am with so much to say. I love you, my dark flower, during every hour of the day, you have changed my heart and made me want to stay in this world of ignorance, greed and dismay, for you, for us, and for the lovely Way, the Will of Pan, and Nature’s play. I love you, my dark flower, my Rose of Agape.

VII. A reverent kiss, this lyric of love, for you, and every goddess below and above, for you are the One, the Goddess BABALON, the moon in scarlet riding upon the sun, drunk on the blood of the stars of dawn, my BABALON, my love, my flower, whom I call upon this passing hour, for life or death, with fleeting breath, for all, for one, O BABALON.

I AM a Human Being

Not that anyone asked or needs to know, but know who you are reading.

A human being.

“I will govern my life and thoughts as if the whole world were to see the one and read the other, for what does it signify to make anything a secret to my neighbor, when to God, who is the searcher of our hearts, all our privacies are open?”

—Seneca the Younger

I am no nihilist.

I am no atheist.

I am no agnostic.

I am no believer.

I am no mystic.

I am no Angel.

I am no spy.

I am no Demon.

I am a human being.

I move swiftly, like 💨 and 🔥

Seneca the Younger spoke against the folk religion of the common people. But he had a deep sense of the invisible mover of our Will, God. Choose your name. Let us call it the original human religion.

I do not deny the invisible hand in my life, truly, I credit it with creating my will and body. I do not preach about this god. I reflect on the beauty of it in my life. I cannot teach this god. I cannot reveal this god to you. I cannot name it, nor do I claim it. Nor do I feel myself more special than any other. But I know this as I know my breath. Both mysterious in a way and profoundly beautiful. I am not so arrogant to imagine myself god’s special creation. This is all special and wonderful and beautiful and the ugly is beautiful too in a way. God itself can correct me through my clear burning Will, but no human could.

To know your Will, is to know the face of God.

I practice the first and only true religion.

It has no prophecies.

It has no priests or priestesses.

Zeus himself showed me.

Being a Human Being.

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.

Burn 🔥 The Boats

Everything I write these days is meant to inspire self expression and individuation, for myself first.

Write openly about yourself to be yourself.

When you’re young, you think you have all the answers.

As you age, you realize, really, you have none.

The best people I have come across, have a single burning 🔥 purpose…

To live their best life and point others to the same in spite of all resistance and circumstance inside and outside, which are the same.

If you look into the past, you find every generation hoping the future generations do better than they did.

The great people in my opinion, have a common theme in their expressions, love this life and earth and be worthy of it.

“The writer of these lines has nothing whatsoever to teach anyone; his words are just his contribution to our common discussion of what must inevitably be for us the most important subject which could be discussed by sentient beings.”

—Wei Wu Wei

“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself and that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second’s encounter with eternity.”

—The Alchemist

“Don’t be concerned with other people’s impressions of you. They are dazzled and deluded by appearances. Stick with your purpose. This alone will strengthen your will and give your life coherence.”

—Epictetus

I have one burning 🔥 purpose, to live the best life possible and inspire others to the same, have a great one!

“A burning purpose attracts others who are drawn along with it and help fulfill it.”

— Margaret Bourke-White

Burn 🔥 the boats!

Only one way through life now.

Straight on til morning.

Fear Falling, Courage Rising

“Courage is the mother of all virtues because without it, you cannot consistently perform the others.”

—Aristotle

Courage is not dead in me yet. I am thankful for that. It lives in individuals. Like a Lion waiting to move. But one can’t really know if courage will be there when needed until they are tested. Truly, we fear our own weakness most. Nothing and I mean nothing can replace experience. Courage is one of the 4 Stoic virtues. Courage is the ability to exert one’s will in the face of risk. Aristotle said that the highest risk was death and that the most courageous man was the one that acted fearlessly in the face of death.

I recently faced my own death, twice in a month. I can’t say I was fearless. But something arose inside me. Something I haven’t known very well, my will. I pushed myself forward beyond my fear and it was a catalyzing experience. Do what is necessary when it is necessary. Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn’t. One day, it won’t.

Why not give all you have to what you do? In your relationships. In your work. In your play. What are you saving your fear for? Fear is a corrective and it can be a poison. Honestly, I didn’t know I had much courage left in me. I have been reckless with my life and opportunities at times. But I have cultivated my focus and it paid off when I needed it to. The feeling of possible death feels like falling off a ladder from a 1000 feet up. You are totally alone and feel powerless. It is humbling, but necessary to know how life is like balancing on a pin. One day I will fall off and that’s how it will be. The one thing we can know for sure in life.

Don’t go looking for trouble, but when it comes, be ready. Until death and I meet again, I’ll smile like I mean my life. Every second of it. Success is just the next breath, the rest is gravy. Yum.

I Will…No.1

Leave nothing essential undone before I go

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I AM here NOW

Desert Walkers

Dune-AWe free people have a saying

“God created the desert to train the faithful.
The foot on the hot sand leads to understanding.
One can not go against the will of God.

We blaze the trail for All
We will not forsake you
We will help you carry your burdens

We are a new breed
Who hears the star call singing
Something dark and deep stirs within

Ancient fears rising to block our way
Mystical signs guiding
As a Light to the lost child

We felt the pull
From our lives of captivity and want
Wandering now somewhere dark

We long for those left behind
Who have little hope
And fear we are lost forever

We righteous few
Will hold up a standard
For the rest to follow

Nothing for us in the sand
We carry with us what we need
Every blind step considered

We are compelled forward
For there is a comfort just beyond
The Oasis begins to emerge from the illusion

So many lost to fear in the old city
The sand is searing with many traps
We have marked the way for you to follow

Come out you All and join us free people
And claim your inheritance stolen
So long ago