“It is such a mysterious place, the land of tears.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
“….I will skillfully devise an instrument, mysterious, possessed of power of sight that cannot err, and cannot be escaped, whereto all things on earth shall of necessity be subject, from birth to final dissolution,–an instrument which binds together all that’s done. This instrument shall rule all other things on earth as well–as man.”
When this was done, and when the souls had entered in the bodies, and–Hermes–had himself been praised for what was done, again the Monarch did convoke the gods in session…
“Let each of us bring forth according to his power. Let us by our own energy wipe out this inert state of things; let chaos seem to be a myth incredible to future days. Set hand to mighty work; and I myself will first begin.”
He spake; straightway in cosmic order there began the differentiation of the up-to-then black unity of things. And heaven shone forth above tricked out with all his mysteries; earth, stilla-tremble, as the sun shone forth grew harder, and appeared with all the fair adornment that bedeck her round on every side. …
“Take–these–, O holy Earth, take those, all honoured one, who are to be the mother of all things, and henceforth lack thou naught!”
The evil now being very great, the elements approached to God who made them, and formulated their complaint in some such words as these: It was moreover fire who first received authority to speak….”Let them be taught to render thanks for benefits received, that I, the fire, may joyfully do service in the sacrificial rites, that they may from the altar send sweet-smelling vapours forth….”
And the air too said: “I also, Master, I am made turbid by the vapours which the bodies of the dead exhale, and I am pestilential, and, no longer filled with health, I gaze down on things I ought not to behold….”
Next water, O my son of mighty soul, received authority to speak, and spake and said: “O Father, O wonderful creator of all things, daimon self-born, and Nature’s maker, who through Thee doth conceive all things, now at this last, command the rivers’ streams for ever to be pure….”
After came earth in bitter grief, and taking up the tale, O son of high renown, thus she began to speak: “The godless rout of men doth dance upon my bosom. I hold in my embrace as well as the nature of all things; for I, as Thou didst give command, not only bear them all, but I receive them also when they’re killed….Bestow on earth, if not Thyself, for I could not contain Thee, yet some holy emanation of Thyself. Make Thou the earth more honoured than the rest of elements; for it is right that she should boast of gifts from Thee, in that she giveth all.”
He feels anew the faith of all on earth,
The power of salvation streaming thence;
But as he looks, he feels his very soul
Pervaded by a new and unknown sense:
Who added to the cross the wreath of roses?
It is entwined by blooming clusters dense,
Profusely spreading just as though they could
Endow with softness e’en the rigid wood.
While light and silv’ry clouds, around it soaring,
Seem heavenward with cross and roses flowing,
And from the midst like living waters streaming
A threefold ray from out one core is glowing;
But not a word surrounds the holy token,
The meaning of the symbol clearly showing.
And while the dusk is gath’ring grey and greyer,
He stands and ponders and is lost in prayer.
At last he knocks. The myriad stars above him
Look down with shining eyes as they appear.
The portal opes, and he is bidden welcome
By brethren wont to comfort and to cheer.
So he relates how far by hill and valley
The will of higher Beings led him here.
They stand amazed, for well they see their guest
Was sent to them by heavenly behest.
They crowd around him, and their inmost being
They feel by a mysterious power stirred,
Their breath they hold to listen, for he rouses
An echo in their hearts with ev’ry word.
Like deepest lore, yet uttered by a child,
The wisdom flowing from his lips is heard:
He seems so innocent, like crystal clear,
As though descended from another sphere.
The Mysteries, Goethe
Can you keep them from separating?
Focus your vital breath until it is supremely soft;
Can you be like a baby?
Cleanse the mirror of mysteries,
Can you make it free from blemish?
Love the people and enliven the state;
Can you do so without cunning?
Open and close the gate of heaven;
Can you play the part of the female?
Reach out with clarity in all directions;
Can you refrain from action?
It gives birth to them and nurtures them,
It gives birth to them but does not possess them,
It rears them but does not control them.
This is called ´mysterious integrity´.
Tao te Ching, 54 (10), Lao Tzu
In these twelve men who came together to perform a special mission, the twelve different streams in the spiritual development of mankind were represented. The fact that all possible religions and all possible philosophies belong to the twelve basic types is in itself a mystery.
Buddhism, Brahmanism, Vedanta philosophy, materialism, or whatever it may be – all of them can be traced to the twelve basic types; it is just a matter of being quite exact. And so all the different streams of man’s spiritual life – the religions, the philosophies and world conceptions that are spread over the earth – were united in that council of the twelve.
After the period of darkness had passed and spiritual achievement was possible again, a thirteenth came in remarkable circumstances to the twelve. I am telling you now of one of those events which takes place secretly in the evolution of mankind once and once only. They cannot occur a second time and are mentioned not as an indication that efforts should be made to repeat them but for quite other reasons.
When the darkness had lifted and it was possible to develop clairvoyant vision again, the coming of the thirteenth was announced in a mysterious way to the twelve wise men. They knew that the time had come when a child with significant and remarkable incarnations behind him was to be born. Above all they knew that one of his incarnations had been at the time of the Mystery of Golgotha.
It was known, therefore, that one who had been a contemporary of the events in Palestine was returning. And the birth of the child in these unusual circumstances during the thirteenth century could not have been said to be that of a person of renown.
Rudolf Steiner, Intimate Workings of Karma
When one gives undivided attention to the (vital) breath, and brings it to the utmost degree of pliancy, he can become as a (tender) babe.
When he has cleansed away the most mysterious sights (of his imagination), he can become without a flaw.
Lau-tzu, Tao-te Ching
In certain reincarnations we divide into two. Our souls divide as do crystals and stars, cells and plants. Our soul divides in two, and those new souls are in turn transformed into two and so, within a few generations, we are scattered over a large part of Earth.
We form part of what alchemists call the Anima Mundi, the Soul of the World. The truth is that if the Anima mundi were merely to keep dividing, it would keep growing, but it would also become gradually weaker. That is why, as well as dividing into two, we also find ourselves. And that process of finding ourselves is called Love. Because when a soul divides, it always divides into a male part and a female part. That’s how the book of Genesis explains it: the soul of Adam was split in two, and Eve was born out of him.
In each life, we feel a mysterious obligation to find at least one of those Soulmates.The Greater Love that separated them feels pleased with the Love that brings them together again. You could tell your Soulmate by the light in their eyes, and since time began, that has been how people have recognised their true love.
The essence of Creation is one and one alone. And that essence is called Love. Love is the force that brings us back together, in order to condense the experience dispersed in many lives and many parts of the world. We are responsible for the whole Earth because we do not know where they might be, those Soulmates we were from the beginning of time. If they are well, they we, too, will be happy. If they are not well, we will suffer, however unconsciously, a portion of their pain.
Above all, though, we are responsible for re-encountering, at least once in every incarnation, the Soulmate who is sure to cross our path. Even if it is only for a matter of moments, because those moments bring with them a Love so intense that it justifies the rest of our days.
Paul Coelho, Brida
Very ancient Eastern languages used words such as Mog, Megh and Magh to define that which is priestly, wise or excellent. Thence is derived the Chaldean name Maghdim, meaning supreme wisdom or divine philosophy. Thus the Greeks had the Magos (Magician) and Mageia (Magic) and by these terms they denoted higher knowledge of nature, especially with relation to religion and the science of the stars. Magicians were, literally, the Wise, the Magi; Philosophers, Shamen, Witch Doctors, Priests, Scientists, Artists, Initiates.
A discourse on magic need not, therefore, be a code of practice for witches and yet, a belief in magic and/or a pantheistic sort of worship tended to precede a belief in one God for many people. True belief is in fact a magical experience; hope, faith and love are sacred magical processes. it is also fair to say, however, that grave misinterpretation of magical phenomena is possible and it is as well to be aware that all things natural and supernatural have really been brought about through God’s will. To separate the individual, personal power, from that of God would be divisive in essence – an act of darkness – whereas the channelling of the divine spirit through the self is a positive, light-filled action.
There is a woman with a passion for music and nature so deep and abiding that the Shaman has a sacred place in her heart; she knows that so much was, is and will be shown via his highly skilled techniques, mastery of which entails a vivid fascination of tantric dimensions with seemingly boundless proportions. The Shaman is so singular for the direct way in which he helps her access an internal rhythm and fathomless understanding of movement in connection with the eternal muse. The Shaman may assist her in releasing bound (because dark) energy in a spiritually viable way of light. The Shaman will, therefore, be credited for eternity as a vital psychic instigator of Change.
It would be harmful to repress ancient hereditary impulses of human cultures, which in past times were psychologically dependent upon the performance of magic for various reasons. Magical rites could spring instinctively from an urge to love and be as One with the Universe, as we are all able. Subtle and manifold are the ways of magic. On the most practical, naïve level, many are they who may unwittingly conduct spells or even sublime acts in conjunction with nature and the source of divine energy. Such things tend not to occur by chance, even in cases where a butterfly effect might be perceived. There is a code and a key behind creation: A mysterious element to the passage of time, a multi-dimensional reality behind space that we can all access if we would only remember how and why it is so.
She sets down the comb and places her soft hands upon my neck, gazing down at me with lowered lashes and appearing as an Oread nymph in the priceless Egyptian glass. Both she and the glass were a gift from the Pharaoh and are said to carry within them a charm of Qetesh, Egypt’s goddess of love and beauty.
She sees my anxiety and I close my eyes with relief as she gently soothes the pains from my head and shoulders. Her touch is lighter than the wings of a dove.
After a short time the pressure in my brow decerases and Nafrini bids me, in her heavily accented Greek, to ‘look into the glass again’, as she sets alight a tightly wrapped bundle of herbs and leaves from a flaming lantern which hangs beside the doorway.
The acrid scent of the smoke is not quite pleasant at first, but it is not long before I start to become hypnotised by my own reflection in the shimmering glass. Nafrini has been singing for quite some time in a low but musical voice.
The words she utters are in her native tongue – a language I know a little of – and the stream of mysterious audio symbols mingles irresistibly with the smoke, until I feel the very air about me has become a vivifying incantation.
A nightingale, herald of spring with a voice of longing, bursts into song and I feel myself grow suddenly drowsy, my eyelids flickering like the wings of a butterfly as it gathers pollen from swollen summer blooms.
Before I have the chance to drift off into sleep, the sensation of cool metal being pressed into my brow rouses my attention. I open my eyes onto the mirror and focus on the golden diadem Nafrini has placed around my temple on the piled up coils of braided hair.
I am captivated by the glittering of gold in the warm glass and when she hands the sprig of daphne to me I chew it unthinkingly, unable to tear my gaze from my own reflection. Time slows to a standstill; I see that it is changing.