On the other side of the world,
you pass the moon to me,
like a loving cup,
or a quaich.
I roll you the sun.
I go to bed,
as you’re getting up
on the other side of the world.
You have scattered the stars
towards me here, like seeds
in the earth.
All through the night,
I have sent you
bunches, bouquets of cloud
to the other side of the world;
so my love will be a shade
where you are,
and yours,
as I turn in my sleep
the bud of a star.
World, Carol Ann Duffy
The process of induction (which ‘ascends from earth to heaven’) and that of deduction (which ‘descends to earth’), the process of prayer (which ‘ascends from earth to heaven’) and that of revelation (which ‘descends to earth’) – ie, human endeavour and the action of grace from above – unite and become a complete circle which contracts and concentrates to become a point where the ascent and descent are simultaneous and coincide.
And this point is the ‘philosopher’s stone’ – the principle of the identity of the human and divine, of humanism and prophetism, of intelligence and revelation, of intellectuality and spirituality. It is the solution of the problem posed by St Paul, or rather the accomplishment of the task given by him, when he wrote of the Cross being folly to the Greeks and a stumbling block to the Jews, but which ‘to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, is the power of God and the wisdom of God’. (I Corinthians 1, 22 – 24).
The historical and evolutionary mission of Hermeticism is to advance the progress of the alchemical work engaged in developing the ‘philosopher’s stone’ or the union of spirituality and intellectuality. It is called to be the crest of the wave of contemporary human effort aspiring to the fusion of spirituality and intellectuality. This effort and aspiration is larger than the group of Hermeticists, properly said, who are dispersed in the world. There are probably more people who are not avowed Hermeticists and who are engaged in this endeavour aiming at the fusion of spirituality and intellectuality than there are Hermeticists, properly said.
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The Spirit blows where it will, but the task of the Hermetic tradition is to maintain – without pretension to a monopoly, God forbid! – the ancient ideal of ‘the thelema of the whole world…..which ascends from earth to heaven…..descends to earth, and uniteth in itself the force from things superior and inferior.’ Its task is that of guardian of the great spiritual work.
Meditations on the Tarot, Unknown Author, Letter XXI, The Fool
The father thereof is the sun, the mother is the moon.
The wind carried it in its womb; the earth is the nurse thereof.
It is the father of all works of wonder throughout the whole world.
The power thereof is perfect, if it be cast on to earth.
It will separate the element of earth from that of fire, the subtle from the gross, gently and with great sagacity.
It doth ascend from earth to heaven.
Again it doth descend to earth, and uniteth in itself the force from things superior and things inferior.
Tabula Smaragdina, 4 – 8
I approached the very gates of death and set one foot on Prosperine’s threshold, yet was permitted to return, rapt through all the elements.
At midnight I saw the sun shining in its brilliant radiance;
I entered the presence of the gods of the under-world and the gods of the upper-world, stood near and worshipped them.
Apuleius, ,Transformations: The Golden Ass
A short moment later and I was back in the dark void of space, looking down this time upon two golden wheels, of similar size and decoration. The first along with a second. It seemed clear that this second would roll back from the mouth of the cave as had the first and indeed, this is what happened as I approached it.
The scene that next transpired was, initially, virtually identical with what I had seen previously at the mouth of the first cave and I repeated the procedure. I stood at the entrance, taking care not to set even an inch of my toe over this threshold, and called inside for whom or whatsoever lay within to emerge from the darkness. Here the similarity ended.
Almost at once the mouth of the cave became so enlarged and distended that it appeared to encompass the whole side of the mountain. If the last had been an orderly stream, it was a wild and powerful river that emerged from within; golden, blue and multi-coloured beings were mingled with a teeming mass of devotees and even their animals, all pouring out together in a chaotic, impulsive rush of life and energy.
I was curious to note that from the far left of the cave came a very large being that looked just like a solid gold Buddha or statue of Brahma seated in the lotus position. The being seemed immobile of its own accord and I deduced that it was either floating forwards on the tide of its worshippers, or was being pushed on wheels positioned beneath it.
As I was observing this being and its many worshippers, my focus changed imperceptibly to myself until I was looking straight ahead at another being of unusual appearance. This being, which was mobile and animated of its own right, seemed to metamorphosise before my eyes. Its skin was very soft looking and predominantly pale blue, or a blue-grey, although there were other colours to its human but non-human seeming form. This was a male – or predominantly male – being, or so it seemed, and it looked into my eyes with an expression that I was not able to fathom, tinged with a kind of cool humour and bright with a light that was not like the light of other eyes.
I had not been looking for long at this being when suddenly – at lightening speed – an electrifying, dark blue female figure emanated from it like a breathtaking whirligig, with limbs flailing like knives in all directions. This enormous energy rushed straight towards me – shrieking silently – in what may have been perceived as a threatening manner, but I did not feel afraid. It seemed to skim past or through the right side of my body and where this – or I –went next, I could not say for I do not remember.
In being’s silver sea
Lustrous pearls of knowledge are washed up
On the shore of speech,
And dainty shells bring poems in their curving forms
To strew the beach with beauty.
Each wave that breaks in foaming arcs
Casts up a thousand royal pearls
That hold strange murmuring voices,
Gems of devotion, joy, and love.
Yet though a thousand waves
At every moment rise and fall,
Scattering pearls and shells,
There are ever more and more to come;
Nor is that sea of Being less by one sheer drop.
The Sea of Being, Sa’d ud Din Mahmud Shabistari
The poor distressed soul was so terrified and amazed, that it could not speak one word more.
When it found that it stood in the form and condition of the serpent, which separated it from God; and that the devil was so nigh it in that condition, who injected evil thoughts into the will of the soul, and had so much power over it thereby, that it was near damnation, and sticking fast in the abyss or bottomless pit of hell, in the anger of God; it would have even despaired of divine mercy; but that the power, virtue, and strength of the first stirring of the grace of God, which had before bruised the soul, upheld and preserved it from total despair.
But still it wrestled in itself between hope and doubt; whatsoever hope built up, that doubt threw down again. And thus was it agitated with such continual disquiet, that at last the world and all the glory thereof became loathsome to it, neither would it enjoy worldly pleasures any more; and yet for all this, could it not come to rest.
On a time the enlightened soul came again to this soul, and finding it still in so great trouble, anguish, and grief of mind, said to it:
What dost thou? Wilt thou destroy thyself in thy anguish and sorrow? Why dost torment thyself in thy own power and will, who art but a worm, seeing thy torment increaseth thereby more and more? Yea, if thou shouldst sink thyself down to the bottom of the sea, or couldst fly to the uttermost coasts of the morning, or raise thyself above the stars, yet thou wouldst not be released. For the more thou grievest, tormentest, and troublest thyself, the more painful thy nature will be; and yet thou wilt not be able to come to rest.
For thy power is quite lost; and as a dry stick burnt to a coal cannot grow green and spring afresh by its own power, nor get sap to flourish again with other trees and plants; so neither canst thou reach the place of God by thy own power and strength, and transform thyself into that angelical image which thou hadst at first. For in respect to God thou art withered and dry, like a dead plant that hath lost its sap and strength, and so art become a dry tormenting hunger. Thy properties are like heat and cold, which continually strive one against the other, and can never unite.
The distressed Soul said: What then shall I do to bud forth again, and recover the first life, wherein I was at rest before I became an image?
The enlightened Soul said: Thou shalt do nothing at all but forsake thy own will, viz. that which thou callest I, or thyself. By which means all thy evil properties will grow weak, faint, and ready to die; and then thou wilt sink down again into that one thing, from which thou art originally sprung. For now thou liest captive in the creatures; but if thy will forsaketh them, the creatures, with their evil inclinations, will die in thee, which at present stay and hinder thee, that thou canst not come to God. But if thou takest this course, thy God will meet thee with his infinite love, which he path manifested in Christ Jesus in the humanity, or human nature.
And that will impart sap, life, and vigour to thee; whereby thou mayest bud, spring, flourish again, and rejoice in the living God, as a branch growing on his true vine. And so thou wilt at length recover the image of God, and be delivered from the image or condition of the serpent: Then shalt thou come to be my brother, and have fellowship with the angels.
The Signature of all Things, Jacob Boehme
That man seems to me peer of gods,
who sits in thy presence,
and hears close to him
thy sweet speech
and lovely laughter; that indeed
makes my heart flutter in my bosom.
For when I see thee but a little,
I have no utterance left,
my tongue is broken down,
and straightway a subtle fire has run under my skin,
with my eyes I have no sight,
my ears ring,
sweat pours down, and a trembling
seizes all my body; I am paler than grass,
and seem in my madness little better
than one dead.
But I must dare all, since one so poor.
Sappho, Fragment 31
Late have I loved you,
Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you!
Lo, you were within, but I outside, seeking there for you,
and upon the shapely things you have made I rushed headlong – I, misshapen.
You were with me, but I was not with you.
They held me back far from you, those things which would have no being, were they not in you.
You called, shouted, broke through my deafness;
you flared, blazed, banished my blindness; you lavished your fragrance,
I gasped; and now I pant for you;
I tasted you, and now I hunger and thirst;
you touched me, and I burned for your peace.
Is not human life on earth a time of testing?
St Augustine of Hippo, Confessions
I left myself to journey into the ‘other’ world with full confidence that my meditations thus far would bear fruit and that I had sufficient protection from the force of my guardian angel and the others.
In what seemed to be no time at all I saw my ‘other self’ in the inky void of deep outer space, where I perceived no stars. In the far distance, below me and somewhat to the right, I almost immediately saw a round, golden ‘wheel’ or ‘seal’. I approached it rapidly and soon perceived that certain symbols and/or words/pictures were engraved on the round, golden wheel. At once it rolled to one side, revealing a black hole behind it.
In the next scene I was standing on a high and exceedingly pleasant mountain plateau in pale sunshine and fresh air. There was no sight of the golden wheel and the ‘black hole’, as I now could see, was the perfectly round entrance to a cave in the side of the mountain.
Logic dictated that there was a reason why this should be so. I do not know why – although it was very clear to me at the time – but I felt it was my mission to call forth whichever waiting souls there were therein. As soon as I arrived, therefore, I stood on the edge of the entrance to the cave (having been vehemently warned not to set foot inside) and shouted very loudly through cupped hands:
“PRAY!”
I do not recall whether I repeated this word but before very long – rushing from the very depths of the cave, out from the complete darkness – came a group of identically dressed men of Arab or Indian appearance. Indeed, not only were they identically dressed, in long, white robes with red sashes and red edges on their turbans, but they seemed to me identical in every particular of their appearance.
The body of them – each of slender build and even height with black beards of medium length – came all at once from the cave and rushed into the middle of the plateau. As I turned to follow them with my eyes I saw this to be the most breathtaking panorama, stretching out for what seemed an eternity, facing the gold-hued horizon.
They had each sat down cross-legged and begun to pray with perfect synchronicity. There seemed to be between 30 and 40 of them, arranged into a number of regular rows. I saw then that they were a river springing forth from the mouth of the cave within the sacred mountain.