Initiatory Engagement

I went to lie next to him on the bed.

I lay on my left side and almost at once he leaned over to touch my forehead with his own, before sitting back calmly to observe the effect. If truth is to be told, with this gesture he opened my mind; this is what transpired:

He had always reminded me of a leopard because he was beautiful and languid in appearance and movement but with the underlying threat of volatile instincts. He also kept a large wooden statue of that creature in his room and, furthermore, had given me a book of the same name.

I sensed his spiritual power but had always attributed it to the animal personality, so when my body began to react to the opening of my mind I was certain that I too was being transformed into a leopard, especially so we could make love as equals of the same ‘species’.

This, of course, was rather an extreme interpretation, and even I, in my burgeoning transcendental state of consciousness, acknowledged the danger of accepting such a course of action with blind faith. Was it wise or safe, I wondered, though only in the back of my head as I was, by then, so fully committed to the action.
I was also, it must be said, tranquilly but determinedly content to have succeeded in reaching this critical point of an initiatory engagement.

Two Butterflies

It was an hour before dusk sometime in June and the massive garden walls reflected the warm evening sunlight.

He and I watched two butterflies chasing one another in a stylized dance of love. This dance reached its conclusion when they came to rest on the step immediately below our feet, where they stayed for a moment, slowly moving their beautiful wings. Two painted ladies who had recently been born and never been so close to a human spirit. “They are bowing”, he stated pensively.

I was delighted by his strange words and peered more closely at the tiny coloured insects. Fully in tune with one another, the butterflies took renewed flight in unison, fluttering through the force of their own energy for a few seconds before landing once again. They settled on his right knee this time and I wondered what it was that had attracted them – and others – to him, as if they were magnetised.

It was not long before they took off again, this time disappearing into the ether; leaving us to follow the path they made through the gates of heaven. I sensed that a turning point had come in my relationship with him, which had been growing for some time. With an unspoken agreement, we got to our feet and followed the two butterflies through the gateway.

Philosophy of a Lunatic

I feel so close to God, so inspired by His Spirit that in a sense I am God. I see the future, plan the Universe, save mankind; I am utterly and completely immortal; I am even male and female. The whole Universe, animate and inanimate, past, present and future, is within me. All nature and life, all spirits, are co-operating and connected with me; all things are possible. I am in a sense identical with all spirits from God to Satan. I reconcile Good and Evil and create light, darkness, worlds, universes.

John Custance, Wisdom, Madness and Folly: the Philosophy of a Lunatic

He who has found and awakened to the Soul that has entered this conglomerate whole – he is the maker of everything, for he is the creator of all; the world is his: indeed, he is the world itself.

Brhadaranyaka Upanishad

Spiritual megalomania is as old as the world. Its origin is found well beyond the terrestrial world, according to the millennial-old tradition concerning the fall of Lucifer. The prophet Ezekiel gives a most moving description of this:

You were the signet of perfection, you were full of wisdom, and perfect in beauty. You were in Eden, the garden of God; You were covered with every kind of precious stone: Sardonyx, topaz, and diamond, chrysolite, onyx and jasper, sapphire, carbuncle, emerald, and gold, with which you were adorned, and which were prepared for you on the day that you were created. You were a guardian Cherubim, with outspread wings; I placed you, and you were, on the holy mountain of God; You walked in the midst of stones of fire…Your heart was proud because of your beauty, You corrupted your wisdom for the sake of your splendour. I cast you to the ground, I exposed you before kings, to feast their eyes on you…..

Ezekiel, xxviii, 12-17

Here is the higher (ie, celestial) origin of inflation, superiority complex and megalomania. And since ‘that which is below is as that which is above’, it is repeated below in human earthly life from century to century and generation to generation. It is repeated above all in the lives of those human beings who are detached from the ordinary earthly setting and the state of consciousness belonging to it, and who transcend it, be it in the sense of height, in the sense of breadth, or, lastly, in the sense of depth.

Unknown author, Meditations on the Tarot, Letter VII, The Chariot

Gabriel saves the burned Soul

I went to bed around midnight and no sooner had I lain down when I realized I was being drawn out through my inner eye, as happened very often during that era, until it was happening at almost all times.

During the initial stage of the journey I was not really conscious of it being either an ascent or a descent, as the world is round, but I later realized it had probably been a descent. Very near the start I seemed to be travelling through a vast tunnel of ‘cloud’-like gaseous material that was not black but was dark – like ink in water – and seemed smoky.

At the end of this very large tunnel was a blazing orange light which looked incredibly fiery, like the sun or a furnace. I let myself be drawn up the tunnel without thinking too much about what was happening, dispassionately, you might say.

I do not know what happened next, for all went blank, but I do know that when I emerged into the next ‘scene’ I was no longer ‘one’, but was split in two. My consciousness and reason – ‘me’, the part with my mind – was in a high up place watching for my ‘other’ (etheric, soul, spirit?) self, although we did not realise this until we actually saw this ‘other’ part.

All around me was very clear, pale blue sky – all was airy and light – and I realized at once we were very high up. Below me was a large platform – basically a flat, white cloud – and I observed ‘my self’ arrive at the base of this platform and cling to it as if for dear life, looking not just exhausted, but on the verge of death.

I must have been given some kind of ‘prompt’ as a thought/word sprang into my head in that instant and I spoke it gleefully, like a pupil who’s cracked the exam, a bit like with ‘Capricorn’:

“Gabriel!”

A split second later, with barely a breath between them, another word was said very quietly, from behind me. This was, ‘Satan’.

The voice which had whispered this last attempted to tell me I’d ‘failed’, that I was lost, but I was not in doubt because it was very plain to see that my first thought had been of ‘Gabriel’, which I reasserted this very firmly. I was not for having my mind poisoned and at that point in time was able to resist this kind of pollution.

Pros Theon: Pro-log fragment

There has been made possible an initiation but neither how nor why is revealed fully in one place at any one time. It occurs in a dimension beyond space and time.

The text is being produced now because it is the appointed time and enough of the necessary lessons – including encryption of sacred messages that they might be safely disseminated – have been learned throughout the last aeon.

The code was given in accordance with the law and it is to be hoped that the overall text has not been literally compromised by the parameters of this pre-determined creative impulse. The purpose behind this writing was not for the sake of art entirely. The nature of the commission was the determining factor of its overall style.

Contributors to this work have for the most part remained anonymous while others have made themselves known. It is possible to divine their names within the text. The principles invoked and included shall make their impression regardless of the degree to which they have been recognized.

That which is meant to be known was and is and shall be known and that which is truly a mystery shall forever be concealed in space and time;

Heed Euterpe.

Swastika

I can’t have been back in the room for more than a second when I was drawn back into the astral or spirit world, whatever it is (no place I’d ever seen before). When I reappeared it was to an entirely less troubling scene. I was walking forwards onto land beneath a cornflower blue sky (the sky so often looks that way in the spiritual dimension?) on a path towards a building that I knew was there but could not see.

I am not sure if this makes sense, but I find that in this dimension one’s vision is restricted in a way. One sees what is before one’s eyes and the rest unfolds. It can be like tunnel vision. What I could see was a low outer wall with an opening in the middle, clearly some sort of entrance or gateway.

Sitting on the left of the opening was a young woman with long black hair wearing a knee-length white toga or chiton. She was sitting kind of sideways and shielding her face with her hand. It was obvious I should not see her face and had I thought about this fact for a bit longer it would probably have scared me a bit.

As soon as I registered her presence I arrived at the next scene (time and space has no meaning there, things unfold according to one’s understanding of them, with full consciousness or comprehension triggering the transition).

I was somehow inside the building with the girl walking beside me on the left. I vigilantly tried to observe my surroundings for outstanding detail, but it was quite dark – it seemed to be a basement – and everywhere was plain marble or stone. There were columns and I remember being surprised and even a little disappointed that there was not any kind of decoration on the walls that I could see.

The room itself was not normally shaped, comprising of weird angles. It seemed like a corridor. As I made this mental note about the décor I was led to look at the floor, and saw that we were following a path of square tiles, about 12” across, that were uniformly patterned with simple black swastika shapes.

Sacred Heartbeat

“What’s the use?” spoke out the Shaman,
“Each set out to meet his maker,
Now on Earth are white-washed spirits,
Blown out minds, who seem as strangers.

“And, I see, the thrall of blissful
States is tempting. Two remain there,
Lying still in deep hypnosis,
Thinking not; they’re quite unconscious!”

Chanted, then, the single Shaman
Words, recalled his greatest magic:
Brought from yonder plane of dreaming
Sages seven from the heaven.

“Make a circle, watch the fire,
Round it form a chain together,
Listen – hear – the holy drum speaks;
Rhythm forms, the sacred heartbeat.”

Thus, they made a single circle
Round the pile of glowing embers,
Let the drums recall the rhythm
Of the heart that time remembered.

“We’re as one.” They spoke in chorus,
“Though the paths we followed differed,
There was but one destination,
Stand united generations.”

Golden Feathers

As their consciousness grew thinner,
So the eagle scanned the mountains,
‘Til it spied a pair of antlers,
Saw the stag to bear the spirit.

Folded wings became an arrow
Tipped with plumes of golden feathers.
Startled though the stag was, doubtless
Is the soul that leapt unto it.

By the silver moon of Mani
Did the stag with spirit wander
Cross the deep green emerald forest,
There to find the Shaman’s body.

By the campfire, dying embers
Glowed just like the sun does setting,
Wakened by a moth, the Shaman
Tapped his drum to reach the sages.

Piled he high upon the fire
Dried up leaves and tinder-branches,
Blew upon the peaceful faces
Of the sages smoke, while dancing.

Lifeless seemed the ones before him –
‘Saw the Shaman, none were breathing,
But were bathed in light of silver –
All around them stars were gleaming.

Heavenly Music

Deep within the endless ocean
Swam the dolphin, swift in motion,
With a haunting cry, the seeking
Spirit felt its wisdom speaking.

Hosts of angels sang a promise
‘Here’s eternal bliss in heaven’.
More than all they dared to dream of
Heard the sages deep within them.

Music of the highest order,
Tones of never-ending beauty,
Filled the dolphin’s soul completely
So it rose back into ether.

Now the circling bird, so patient,
Dived again to catch the spirit
As it reached for air, transpiring
At the dolphin’s exhalation.

All at once the ones in heaven
Heard an instrument of glory,
Sounding far beyond their memories
Rolling out the timeless story.

Not a thing would they remember
Of the secrets of the music
‘Cept that it was more than wisdom,
More than knowledge; all that truth is.

The Shaman

On the Earth the Shaman shifted
Shape and let his song be silence.
Thus, was set a leopard’s spirit,
Loose amongst the emerald forest.

Just beneath his leafy carpet
Slipped a serpent, shedding softly,
All its skin. This eerie presence
Passed them by, the nine in heaven.

Knew the souls of all the sages –
Those who heard within the silence
Purest notes of timeless music –
Golden was the light, the silence.

Soon the leopard reached the edges,
crossed the deep green emerald forest,
Looked up at the sky of sapphire
Saw the eagle, called in spirit.

So the bird did swoop upon it,
Took the soul within the leopard,
Lifted it beyond the forest,
Past the clouds, ascending skyward.

From the greatest height a creature
Of the world might reach, the eagle
Spied a movement on the carpet
Of the Earth and dived to reach it.