Mnemosyne
The consort I invoke of Jove divine,
Source of the holy, sweetly-speaking Nine;
Free from th’ oblivion of the fallen mind,
By whom the soul with intellect is join’d:
Reason’s increase, and thought to thee belong,
All-powerful, pleasant, vigilant, and strong:
‘Tis thine, to waken from lethargic rest
All thoughts deposited within the breast;
And nought neglecting, vigorous to excite
The mental eye from dark oblivion’s night.
Come, blessed power, thy mystic’s mem’ry wake
To holy rites, and Lethe’s fetters break.
The Initiations of Orpheus, to Mnemosyne, Goddess of Memory
Lethe had a purpose. is it also not good to learn to forget?
Absolutely! Buddha said to forgive is good but to forget is better. While I’m sensitive to the supernatural qualities of memory, I did have an ephiphany of sorts last night where I realised that the way out of the vicious circle of Descartes’ Evil Genius is reached by renouncing the doctrine of reincarnation….
i want to remember. not the imagined injustices of this veiled world but it’s beauty and magic and play of form, and in the measure of time, the way back from where we all came, the unity. that is a great lake of memory. we are here to make memories. i guess buddha and i would have a lovely cup of tea and laugh and part paths. for me it is not emptiness, it is fullness.
a doctrine may be renounced if in truth that is it’s shallow nature, but what if, in truth, it is truth.
i am off to question descartes on his intentions.
b
I think we need to do both….there is a question of releasing bad karma or – from an esoteric Christian perspective using alchemic principles – turning the lead into gold and allowing the phoenix to rise. This only occurs once all the dark materials are burned away. So we are ultimately left with – that is, we remember – what is beautiful and pure and of love and joy and happiness, but the misery and pain and imperfections are left behind, ie forgotten. Descartes meant well. He was actually trying to show that it is possible to prove that God is good, but ended up (strictly objectively speaking) presenting a terrible vicious doctrinal circle. However, from the subjective point of view of one with faith in a merciful God, he demonstrates his hypothesis. From my point of view it offered a solution that pointed towards the Phoenix (freedom) and the gold (treasures of heaven).
it is an artifact of memory that as time (that elusive concept) moves, exactly what you proffer on the universal plane happens on the worldly individual plane. as above…
time heals memory and distills it into the best of itself. a merciful process that seems inherent.
descartes suffered what all men will who attempt an empirical containment for the divine…
As long as we are not enlightened we bathe in Lethe, to forget the misery of our last life as we can’t bear it into a new life. The memory is now transformed into the karma of our new life, so karma is our memory of previous lives.
When we become enlightened we are strong enough to remember and to handle our karma consciously, and instead of bathing in Lethe we bathe in Mnemosyne so we in the next life keeps our memory.
memory is darkening
walking out of the world
passed the “no way out” sign
The twilight is hard
scared, thirsty
crossing the frontier
no words left
under what skies?
one lost soul
missed another chance
in the intangible arms
of the same late stranger
to whom he eternally
makes his way
in amorous mystery.
he is trying to remember
the vapors of love and vision,
the fire-splintered bones.
walk on…
these charred glyphs
speak to those still to come
dry sighs heard beyond the word
their sharp arranged
and rusted stain
a dry strange language
of their own remembrance
walk on, yes, give up
memory, surrender
those burned glyphs
to Mnemosyne.
let her sing
these dark oracles
into the underground rivers
flowing with souls.
let her sing them
with sweeter memory
sweeter tongue
of cup and nectars
and darkness undone…
let them abide somewhere,
somewhere sweet,
in a place that was thirsty for them.
i am those sands
i know these bones
their blood is copper
and their song is turquoise
they return unto me
i drink their metal and stone
and we are one
i am that place, walker
and this is the edge of the passing world
you go alone..
i go alone
and time flickers
and softly burns
to ashes and shadows.
where the wind
spins our ashes
new worlds will form.
fates unwound
will wind again.
who can say?
words and worlds
are all a journeying.