The Serpent and the Dove

Using only logic we lose contact with mystery,with the desire for the imaginary. That’s why I love the Oriental philosophy of paradox, which is not that of the straight line, but of the circle, where something can be and not be at the same time, because life is not robotic with prefabricated answers. It’s unpredictable and can change at any second.

I am very fond of the tradition of the dove and the snake. Sometimes we need physical symbols to understand ourselves better. The classic image, which I like so much, is that of the Immaculate Virgin with a snake at her feet. The tradition of the Spirit, which departs from the principle that, what is important is not accumulation but knowing how to read the language of the collective unconscious, what we call the anima mundi. That would be the language of the dove.

And then, on the other hand, the classical tradition of the snake, of the accumulation of wisdom. We cannot remain with one or the other exclusively, but must harmonise the two – logic and intuition….Jesus says he has come not to destroy law but to fulfill it in spirit. Because a time comes when respect and obedience to law keeps you from living, but you can’t just live with anarchy either.

Another example from the Gospels that I like very much is when Jesus tells his disciples that when they go among men they should be ‘wise as serpents and harmless as doves’. That’s why we have to be alert and keep our feet on the ground, being concrete and objective, but at the same time knowing how to watch the run of things, enjoy contemplating them, trying to discover that secret language that speaks more to our feminine side, than to our reason.

Paul Coelho, Confessions of a Pilgrim, Juan Arias

Cupid and Psyche

Soon after her husband came, and when he had kissed and embraced her, he fell asleep. Then Psyche (somewhat feeble in body and mind, yet moved by cruelty of fate) received boldness, and brought forth the lamp, and took the razor, so by her audacity she changed her kind.

But when she took the lamp, and came to the bedside, she saw ‘the most meek and sweetest beast of all beasts, even fair Cupid couched fairly, at whose sight the very lamp increased his light for joy, and the razor turned his edge.

But when Psyche saw so glorious a body, she greatly feared, and, amazed in mind, with a pale countenance, all trembling, fell on her knees, and thought to hide the razor, yea verily in her own heart; which she had undoubtedly done, had it not through fear of so great an enterprise fallen out of her hand. And when she saw and beheld the beauty of his divine visage she was well recreated in her mind.

She saw his hairs of gold, that yielded out a sweet savour: his neck more white than milk: his purple cheeks, his hair hanging comely behind and before, the brightness whereof did darken the light of the lamp: his tender plume-feathers dispersed upon his shoulders like shining flowers, and trembling hither and thither; and his other parts of his body so smooth and soft that it did not repent Venus to bear such a child.

At the bed’s feet lay his bow, quiver, and arrows, that be ‘the weapons of so great a God; which when Psyche did curiously behold, and marvelling at the weapons of her husband, took one of the arrows out of the quiver, and pricked herself withal, wherewith she was so grievously wounded that the blood followed, and thereby of her own accord she added love upon love; then more and more broiling in the love of Cupid, she embraced him and kissed him a thousand times fearing the measure of his sleep.

But alas while she was in this great joy, whether it were for envy, or for desire to touch this amiable body likewise, there fell out a drop of burning oil from the lamp upon the right shoulder of the God. O rash and bold lamp, the vile ministry of love, how darest thou be so bold as to burn the God of all fire when he invented thee, to the intent that all lovers might with more joy pass the nights in pleasure?

Cupid and Psyche, Apuleius

Making Magic

Here on earth, the conduction of magical procedures seems to require something more than natural rhythm alone, flowing constantly and unconsciously. The magician must also be in conjunction with the preternatural rhythm of parallel universes. Sekala, Niskala; seen and unseen. This tends to happen spontaneously, put into effect when the individual atomic spirit coincides naturally with the universally complete one. When it happens, the process of making of magic can be achieved. I don’t know how often it happens or precisely what the limitations are.

The optimum state for making magic might be an open and receptive frame of mind, together with sharp wits and spontaneous action. Perfect external conditions for might involve traveling at speed through a tunnel of trees with woodland on either side of the road and tree-tops that bend to touch one another, over a distance of about 50 yards, in order to ride the wave of the moment when ‘Day’ becomes ‘Night’. To travel through the eye of the needle of eternity at the speed of light. And this is more than just wishful thinking, friends; for one is sure that by such means did night arise from day on at least two occasions! The truth is there for all to see and the facts are clear: Day becomes night and night becomes day.

A strong musical element would, I imagine, contribute to the beauty of the moment, carrying invocations through the realm where power could bring forth a desired result. (It could be said that music has been, is, and will once more be, an extremely sympathetic catalyst for the performance of magic. Much that is truly magical might remain unfinished but for the vivifying effect of sacred music.

Location may also have a bearing on the efficacy of magical conduct. It is well known that certain places are considered ‘special’, because of their inherent natural or supernatural properties or special connotations. Some places have particular meaning only to individuals, because they contain strong memories or associations, while are others are special in their own right. These may be places of great natural beauty or with prominent natural features that combine to create a potent atmosphere.

The right blend of atmosphere can arouse strong feelings or impressions in living things. Traveling along ley lines may also increase one’s chances of being the magician. In one known case at least, spinning was the key. The means by which one traveled on one occasion through the gateway of perception, the infinite hair’s breadth between Earth and Heaven.

The Bird of Vision

Our death is our wedding with eternity.

What is the secret? “God is One.”

The sunlight splits when entering the windows of the house.

This multiplicity exists in the cluster of grapes;

It is not in the juice made from the grapes.

For he who is living in the Light of God,

The death of the carnal soul is a blessing.

Regarding him, say neither bad nor good,

For he is gone beyond the good and the bad.

Fix your eyes on God and do not talk about what is invisible,

So that he may place another look in your eyes.

It is in the vision of the physical eyes

That no invisible or secret thing exists.

But when the eye is turned toward the Light of God

What thing could remain hidden under such a Light?

Although all lights emanate from the Divine Light

Don’t call all these lights “the Light of God”;

It is the eternal light which is the Light of God,

The ephemeral light is an attribute of the body and the flesh.

…Oh God who gives the grace of vision!

The bird of vision is flying towards You with the wings of desire

Rumi

Divine Comedy

Because approaching the object of its desires,

our intellect is so deeply absorbed

that memory cannot follow it all the way.

Dante, The Divine Comedy

The Unconquered Warrior

Love the unconquered warrior, love who falls on the flocks, love who keeps vigil in the soft cheeks of a girl,

you roam over seas and in the halls of savages; no immortal nor any of the men whose life is a day can escape you.

He who is touched by you goes mad. You twist the minds of just men to the ruin of injustice.

Victorious is the bright desire from the eyes of the fair bride; it sits enthroned beside the eternal laws,

for the goddess Aphrodite works her invincible will.

Sophocles, Antigone

Orphic Hymn to The Muse

Commanding queen, who lead to sacred light

The intellect refin’d from Error’s night;

And to mankind each holy rite disclose,

For mystic knowledge from your nature flows….

Come, venerable, various pow’rs divine,

With fav’ring aspect on your mystics shine;

Bring glorious, ardent, lovely, fam’d desire,

And warm my bosom with your sacred fire.

Orphic Hymn to The Muse

The Fairy Bird Flies

I wandered absent-mindedly into another room and without warning chanced upon the pair I sought – my reason with the fairy – although they did not see me at first for I remained out of view, the quietest of those present.

Both of them appeared to have changed clothes and had become somehow more real looking, which served to diminish their power in my eyes and deprive the sprite (as she had become) of the intensity of pure magical beauty. Funny, then, that she attracted me somehow more strongly than when she had been composed entirely of fire and air.

The attraction was more basic though, for mingled with clay and water she seemed quite human, even if the golden hair, which had lost some of its length and lustre, still tumbled past her slender shoulders and glistened invitingly in the half-light. She stood with her back to me, both hands joined with those of reason, who gazed at her in such complacent adoration that she did not see me at all. I could not tell if they were dancing, making love or struggling with each other. Slight annoyance was mingled with an overwhelming desire to touch them both; I was totally beside myself and moved towards them determinedly.

As soon as I stepped forward they turned around quickly. My reason beamed at me beatifically, “At last, you’re here, what on earth have you been doing, you were ages? We’ve been having a fantastic time!”

I acknowledged that the other one was less pleased to see me, but also that she grew lovelier once again as the weight of reason drew away from her. The same reason moved languidly to my right and rested her head on my shoulder, “I love you”, she murmured softly, once again my modest companion. Fire grew in the sylph-like eyes of the other and with every inspiration she became more like the wind.

Subtly, almost imperceptibly, her robes changed again to the hue of dawn on a bed of blossom and the coils of hair unfurled into their pure golden streams.

I abandoned myself for an instant and lay down on the dewy carpet. As she spread her wings I closed my eyes and sighed in half-forgotten ecstasy, while the fairy bird leaped silently into the air and across our reclining figures, touching the surface of our skin with the hem of her gown as she passed us by on the scent of lilies and melted into the future night, rosy as clouds before dusk.

Was this the appearance of my passion? I held it close as I lost consciousness and entered oblivious insight, soothed by the treasures of the sleeping mind.