lit

The Light that originally lit and now lights our cosmos is the same Light that lights our soul. "Let your light so shine." Get lit, darling! Get lit! We are the Light embodying.

the interest of the Mystery

The Mystery is not interested so much in WHAT we perceive but HOW we perceive: the HOW that makes us members of the Mage Eye Nation.

Yes

For every Yes there is a multitude of No which fade into insignificance when the Heart is in the Yes. The words of the Eternal Yes: When you abide in me, I abide in you. The Heart is in the Yes and the Yes is in the Heart. An unbeatable combo.

caduceus

The caduceus, the wand of healing, represents not just the energies of humankind (and each individual of the species) but, more importantly, the degrees or levels or dimensions of consciousness of which humans consist and both aspire and sink to.

The energies (and corresponding consciousness states) range from the angelic crown of glory to demonic numbness, from highly sensitive awareness with no bounds to locked-in agnosis (knowing nothing, not even knowing that one does not know). Between these two extremes, of which we are walking examples, lies the current mass hallucination of societal consciousness. I say current because the nature and quality of this social agreement as to reality has changed over time and will change, is changing, yet again.

The caduceus is a symbol depicting our consciousness capability, individually and collectively. We can get stuck, stick ourselves, at any point along its energetic flow. S/he who is the entire caduceus is a whole human. From whole humans, societies transform.

this peculiar flute

Divine or, if you prefer, Cosmic energies pour through continuously birthing all that Is. We wankle and workle the Energy we are, the Energy pouring through, according to our disposition, our personality, this peculiar flute through which the wind of the Cosmos flows. We sound the notes produced by the holes, the openings in our rigidity.

moment-um

Each of us lives our life in accord with an Energetic Flow. I capitalize because the Energetic Flows are archetypal in nature, eternally recurring.

We choose to live our lives in rebirth, reclamation, resurrection. We choose to live our lives in fear, despair, and alienation. We choose to live our lives in anger, turmoil, and rejection.

In other words, we choose to move with, move away, move against. (We also have the choice of moving toward: we separate ourselves out in perpetual resolution.)

The fate of the universe we are depends upon our choices, the choices of each moment, of this moment now. The choice of each moment provides moment-um.

This is who we are: an eternal energetic flow. Each moment we create the universe we are.

the reclaiming of outer darkness

Can we step outside the Story? Not spurn it, stay inclusive? Nor yield to its dualistic theme, of war of This against That and the necessity, at soul's peril, of choosing sides? Can we swallow all the Stories at one gulp and stand with them inside this cosmic body? Can we reclaim the outer darkness and bring it home at last, welcoming the prodigal while knowing we are the prodigal returning home? Can we rather than building a hedge around us let all walls fall down? Can we become a circle with no circumference whose center is here and everywhere? Can we welcome all kin home and all are kin?

Wrestling for the Angel

Riffing off one of the themes (a major one) of Henry Corbin this morning, my mind reverberates within angelic realms. Each of us has (and is) an Angel of our Being. (Capitalizing is generally anathema today since all is reduced to the plebeian, the LCD, Lowest Common Denominator. Yet some realms call for capitalization.)

Mister Seven reminded me this morning in our all too brief but enlightening talk of those invisible to most, but not to some: beings who live outside the circle  of the accepted wisdom of the current  occidental society. There are many, waiting to be welcomed back in. I wish to speak at the moment only of the Angel of y(our) Being.

My repeated use of parentheses reminds me that we tend to lead a parenthetical existence. We isolate ourselves within our bounds, our self-imposed bounds, our limits to our existence, and we call that Reality.

The Angel of our Being sits patiently outside that self-created circumscription, awaiting our awakening.

The Angel of our Being is our twin, our heavenly twin. We are its counterpart, our legs dangling down into this more solidified experience we call Life. We have, in some sense, the tougher role as a solidification into denser spirit, which we call matter. Solidification is difficult, yet the Angel of our Being also has a tough job, mourning and in pain when we lose our Vision, lose our Way.

Rejoicing (re-juicing) occurs when we finally (intermittently?) awaken and full fill our rightly role: wrestling for the Angel. We are the protrusion of Spirit into this dense dense world and reclaim it, enthuse it as we acknowledge and open to the Angel of our Being.

To do so requires total vulnerability, a state of existing that is, on first consideration, repugnant and fear provoking to many. Yet the Samurai of yore and today proclaim: the best defense is total vulnerability. Vulnerable to Death. Vulnerable to Love. Vulnerable to all that arises. To be hard and strong is to succumb to rigor mortis. Mongols in silk shirts were able to defeat knights in armor. Wu wei.

Ancient wisdom is to live as if you have already gone on. Die before you die. Then who can do a thing with you, a person of no thing? We become Nothing, Nothing Doing. The Angel of our Being rejoices. The world is transformed.

(Written with a borrowed freshly sharpened pencil on provided paper at the Weatherford Hotel -- if it's good enough for Zane Grey, it's mighty fine for me.  First Tuesday in June, 2013)