Don Juan

Don Juan is not purely and simply a blasphemous dissolute, he is rather a hierophant of this small god of great power known in antiquity under the name of Eros or Amor (Love). It is the magic of Eros that he represents, and it is the mysteries of Eros over which he presides in the capacity of a priest.

Don Juan was neither a blasphemous dissolute nor a false-hearted seducer, nor even a brutal adventurer, but rather an obedient and courageous servant of this childlike divinity who loves and commands elan, enthusiasm and ardour, and who detests and forbids the weighing, measuring and calculating of reason with its laws of utility and advantage, circumspection and respect for convention and, lastly, its priority of a cold head over a warm heart.

However, love has not only its right to exist, but also its transcendental metaphysics, philosophy and mysticism. Don Juan was more than a victim or dupe of love – this apparently capricious goddess. He embraced her philosophy and mysticism and was therefore her conscious collaborator, her hierophant initiated into her mysteries. And it is thus that he has become an archetype – the archetype of love for its own sake, the lover par excellence.

Don Juan lives through the energy of amorous influence for the energy of amorous influence – by nourishing it and maintaining it like a fire which should never be extinguished. This is because he is conscious of the value of this fire and of the mission that htis fire has in the world. In the eternal conflict that there is between law – of right, of reason, and of the divine – and love, he takes the side of love, for which courage is necessary.

And it is thus that Don Juan represents an idea, an archetype, an arcanum. He represents the young man on teh Card of the sixth Arcanum of the Tarot “The Lover”, who has chosen the fire of love as such and multiplicity instead of the unicity of the love of his eternal sister soul – since Babylon, the woman appointed to the mysteries of erotic magic, has convinced him.

Unknown Author, Meditations on the Tarot, Letter XXI, The Fool

The White Age

Come back now

Thank goodness that was over – a second more and I would definitely have started panicking – I wasn’t at my best underwater, but so often seemed to find myself in that position whenever I became conscious of my situation.

Why, I asked myself, did ‘holidays’ almost invariably end with being captured by the sea? The only time I had really experienced a watery destination and had managed to avoid going under was when I had gone to the prior existence of the light side with Peter, a place of virtual hieroglyphic communication, very close to the ancient Sanskrit lands. How I would love to recall that tale, for it was truly the epic journey of my most sublime imagination, an Arabian night made day.

There, the water had been azure, the vista of magical blue eternity studded with islands of far-reaching heart-felt wishes. A breathtaking view indeed and if I should ever recall or revisit that fathomless beach of my Odyssey, surely I would declare unto it the homage of a thousand sighs in words, without weeping.

This was the fantasy of the East as it was in the eye of the creator, reflection in light of the land near and far, mystical pre-incarnation of a maharaja’s dream. Never before seen were those crystal quartets of jewel-like structures, the bathing houses of ideal dimension, gleaming quadratics, defined manifestations of the glittering perception of marble queens. This was no ordinary era, it was the utmost peak of infinity. It was the white age.

There were reams of turquoise, ether avenues of ultraviolet stone, columns of mystique, the foundations of purity in a destination almost unseen, all at the origin of eternity’s horizon, whilst onward stretched the shore of our forever on the smoothest sea of love….

It’s at this point that my memory fails, though in my minds eye I still see the crystal waters, which none can remove from my understanding of mysteries, far beyond the green of the Zoroastrian glade.

Not too far back

Another Curious Case

The Master opened for business as usual and prepared the small but atmospheric treatment room for a ten o’clock appointment. It would turn out to be another curious case.

A young and beautiful woman opened the door to Mysteries in a state of some agitation, saying she’d had a bizarre experience several years ago and was now being reminded of it for reasons which seemed to relate to a love affair of sorts, an affaire du coeur.

She was also aware that the extraordinary planetary activity was inclining her to share the details of her experience with someone else.

The Master was doubly intrigued when Soaring Eagle suddenly appeared to impart a message:

This described has taken place, truth recounted; sooth instate.

Sitting up very straight in the second chair, the woman took a sip of the proffered ginger tea and then broke apart the floodgate of her unique tale: