“Whoever feels an urge to teach is not living his own doctrine completely and has not attained the heights of initiation….”
“…Alchemy cannot be taught. All the great works of literature which have come down to us through the centuries contain elements of this teaching. They are the product of truly adult minds which have spoken to children, while respecting the laws of adult knowledge. A great work is never wrong as regards basic principles. But the knowledge of these principles and the road that led to this knowledge must remain secret. Nevertheless, there is an obligation on first-degree searchers to help one another.
…”Patience, hope, work. And whatever the work may be, one can never work hard enough. As to hope: in alchemy hope is based on the certainty that there is a goal to attain. I would never have begun had I not been convinced that this goal exists and can be attained in this life.”
A famous poet, Morning of the Magicians, Louis Pauwels and Jacques Bergier
I had appeared,
And whence I came knew not
The captains of this ice-bound station,
Staging post for secret stops.
All around me, calls, confusion,
Did they know and were they shocked,
Knowing I’d traversed the gateway,
Breached the time, the shield of clocks?
“Still my heart!”
One’s will commanded.
“Should I hide?”
The reason wondered.
But before ‘twas weighed, decided,
All sped past me, called: “It’s coming!”
So, it seemed, the point I went through –
Fortune had decreed its safety –
Fabled portal, scene of landing,
Far-off, frozen, hidden stargate.
Words formed in my awe-struck eye-mind:
‘So the lantern of the night sky
Sails into this place for service.’
I must see this once, this lifetime!’
A sloped and hazardous deck
Above un-named oblivion,
Drew me near its icy edge,
Beheld I vast dominions.
I was certainly unprepared for a surprise invitation and looked around in a state of slight agitation, feeling myself pulled in two directions.
On the one hand the fairy’s offer was like a welcome remedy to an inner disturbance and the creature herself was tempting. Evidence of this was to be found in the demeanour of my companion, who had already moved slightly from my side and closer to that of the other, at whom she was now gazing in wonder.
I could see that her sense of reason was almost captivated and wondered how she could be so easily swayed. For me own part, I did not wish to become beholden to creatures of the netherworld, however enticingly they appeared, and thought instead of continuing alone whilst within the walls of the city rather than go along as one with two and lose track of time.
Secretly, though, I was disconcerted at a potential parting of ways with the voice of reason, brown-haired and demure, strong in her white robes. The strange and beautiful place that we were in was full of danger for me and perhaps the opportunity to take instant refuge with one who had the freedom of the city should be taken up thankfully. If my reason was entranced, then maybe I should follow willingly, rather than be alone in my passion? Something held me back.
“Your offer is most kind, but I….I’m not sure, forgive me”.
My reason was now stroking her hair and I felt something slip away for the first time as the chill I could see in the air of the city shimmered into a warmer clime. I started to drift away and remembered how it had felt, in those days, to still belong – the cocoon of protection started to envelop me once again – was it true that I had been a citizen after all and that there was a way for me to wander these rare streets as if they were my own?
I felt resolved again in a new direction; it would be fine – why should we not go with her – for what purpose had we come, if not for adventure?
I finally spoke to the girl who had come with me: ‘I’ve been here before’ I said vaguely, trying in vain to jog my memory and frowning as I tried to recall the first day. The atmosphere really had not changed, although this time I was closer to the heart of the city than I had been previously.
I had wandered around that time, partly because of a search for something I could not place, but also because it had been my duty to establish the geometric co-ordinates of the city’s layout.
I had many friends at this place there in those days, people on the inside who were prepared to share some of their knowledge with me, and they had taken me to a situation of repose on the outskirts of the forbidding campus, where discipline was either extreme or non-existent.
By chance, I also recalled that I had once enjoyed rather an elevated social status, thanks to my association with a young man of high rank. I had taken part in a memorable group photograph in the grounds of a private house somewhere in the area, although the precise location of this place was no longer known to me.
The occasion of the photograph had given me the strong impression of a funeral at the time, for everybody was dressed in black and I was aware that at least some of the guests were alive only in spirit. There was, however, an air of suppressed hilarity which detracted from any suggestion of death.
Politeness forbade me from enquiring into the exact state of the other guests, be they alive or dead, but I had enjoyed rather an interesting conversation with one Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, who was positioned to my left and who spent at least half an hour imparting to me the secrets of her style, and other invaluable information. Many secrets were shared with me regarding how a woman ought to deal with a powerful husband.
The photograph turned out beautifully.
Aside from visiting dignitaries in the grounds, the rolling garden surrounds of the University were possibly the most enticing grounds I had ever encountered. I spent a very long period there in relaxation.
So pleasurable was that plateau, beyond the burden of time, and yet it was only a staging post for me, a place where I could not permanently reside. The Elysium fields of my friends became dangerously like the spiritual land of Dido transported to a dream, whilst those around me recognized no queen….
I recognized the atmosphere immediately; the cobbled, sloping streets and brooding blue air were strangely familiar. I stopped and looked around.
One of the huge main buildings was not very far away, in a southerly direction from where we were standing. The tawny stones of its massive structure shone brightly in the strong summer sunshine. It was a forboding edifice, dramatically radiant with distinct sort of power that was in a class of its own, bordered with immaculate formal shrubbery.
Even more amazing than the building itself was the sheer blazing light suffusing the entire scene. I had seldom seen another place with walls so bright, they gleamed without ever failing, as I recalled, be it by the sun, moon or stars, resplendent with cool, classical beauty….
For the first time on our quest I felt slightly uneasy and struggled to remember something that was eluding me for the second time. I looked and looked again. My companion was by now by my side and I haltingly confided to her, hoping to jog my memory and perhaps arouse in her some sense of recognition. Some secret she might of know about why we were really there.
Once before had I seen this place – exactly as it seemed at this moment – but then it had been a dream. Many times before had I seen a place that now appeared to have been its image. It was strange, almost perfect, the enigma of architectural enlightenment, but I had an unmistakable sense of unease. One could not help but feel that the atmosphere was potentially restrictive to a free spirit.
Was it possible, that if they saw us, we would be imprisoned?
There was a definite suggestion of dark and hidden corridors, both without and within the actual buildings. If it were all a fairy tale, there would have been a gingerbread house on a side-road somewhere, a place where witches entrapped wandering children of earth and starry heaven.
I had a distinct feeling of possible exposure and wished not to approach those inner walls, lest they should bear down and became a prison of knowledge, for all of their glorious appearance. Once stuck in a position of learning, it might be extremely hard to escape honourably without first renouncing individual intelligence.
I could see that potentially dangerous secrets were being guarded within and that I was able to discover what many other students (or clones, as they appeared) never comprehended – the depth of knowledge actually in situ – except of course for the gilded few who by birthright were trusted by the establishment. I realised for the second time that there was a conspiracy but could not fathom the mystery that I longed to understand.
