The Bird of Vision

Our death is our wedding with eternity.

What is the secret? “God is One.”

The sunlight splits when entering the windows of the house.

This multiplicity exists in the cluster of grapes;

It is not in the juice made from the grapes.

For he who is living in the Light of God,

The death of the carnal soul is a blessing.

Regarding him, say neither bad nor good,

For he is gone beyond the good and the bad.

Fix your eyes on God and do not talk about what is invisible,

So that he may place another look in your eyes.

It is in the vision of the physical eyes

That no invisible or secret thing exists.

But when the eye is turned toward the Light of God

What thing could remain hidden under such a Light?

Although all lights emanate from the Divine Light

Don’t call all these lights “the Light of God”;

It is the eternal light which is the Light of God,

The ephemeral light is an attribute of the body and the flesh.

…Oh God who gives the grace of vision!

The bird of vision is flying towards You with the wings of desire

Rumi

Threefold Knowledge: Glory of the Holy Trinity

Our threefold knowledge (mystical-gnostic-magical) of the world has dedicated itself through the course of the centuries to the glory of the Holy Trinity, just as the threefold knowledge of divine revelation through the Holy Scripture (the Old Testament, New Testament and the Apocalypse) does.

Are we not called, we theologians of the world, and you, theologians of the Holy Scripture, to watch at the same altar and to fulfill the same task of not letting the lamp illumined to the glory of God be extinguished in the world?

Is it not our common duty to provide for it, to provide the holy oil of human endeavour so that its flame is never extinguished, so that it always bears witness to God by the very fact of its existence, and so that it continues to burn from century to century?

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The spiritual history of Christianity is the history of the successive resurrections of that which is valuable from the past, worthy of eternity. It is the history  of the magic love reviving the dead. It was thus that Platonism became resuscitated and will go on living for ever – thanks to the vivifying breath of he who is the resurrection and the life. (Ego sum resurrectio et vita, John xi, 25). It is thus that Aristotelianism will participate in eternal life. And it is thus that Hermeticism, also, will live until the end of the world and, perhaps, beyond the end of the world.

Moses and the prophets will live on for ever, for they  have acquired their place in the eternal constellation of the Word of resurrection and life. The magical poetry and songs of Orpheus will be resuscitated and will live for all eternity as colour and sound of the Word of resurrection and life. The magic of Zarathustra’s mages will be revived and will live as the eternal human endeavour of aspiration towards light and life.

The truths revealed by Krishna will join the retinue of the ‘recalled to eternal life’. The ancient cosmic revelations of the Rishis will live again and will awaken in humanity anew a sense for the marvels of the ‘blue, white and gilded…’

All these souls of mankind’s spiritual history will be resuscitated, ie, will be called to join the work of the Word that became flesh, that died and rose again from the dead – so that the truth of the promise – I have come so that nothing should be lost but that all should have eternal life (John vi, 38-40) will be accomplished.

Unknown author, Meditations on the Tarot, Letter VIII, Justice

Born Again

When these things were done I was turned by my companion so that I was face up with my eyes still closed, for I felt it was not yet appropriate (it did not seem possible) to open them or indeed to move myself voluntarily from the appointed position.

The next moment he decided to light a cigarette by resting the matchbox on my chest and striking so the flame ignited close to my heart. An amazing flash of light flooded through my closed eyelids, producing an instantaneous ecstatic response . I inspired sharply with a gasping noise and opened my eyes.

I felt extraordinary, with an almost beatific sense of purity and peace as if a monumentally painful test had somehow been completed without undue sensation.

For some reason I could not help but throw my hands above my head as if compelled to achieve some sort of final designated pose. I did this three times before I noticed then that my companion bore a serious expression and hardly looked at me as he smoked silently.

I let my arms fall outwards into the approximate position they had been in when I was prone face down a moment before. My legs were bent slightly from the knees with my feet together because he was sat at right angles to my body, back against the wall with his own legs pinning mine into place.

I looked him in the eye and smiled in peaceful adoration, with the restful thought in my otherwise clear mind that the purpose of my life had been fulfilled. My head fell onto my left shoulder as I gazed at him.

The realization of what had just happened then struck me with breathtaking force. I saw with shocking clarity that everything had changed – the Leopard was now She, which I  am; the animal was spiritualised – and as this truth dawned upon me a tear fell from each of my eyes. I had been turned inside out; I was born again.

Leopard Legs

I felt reasonably satisfied to be in possession of two paws but then, after several minutes, the performance became somewhat more demanding, seeing as the clenching of my arms and hands was not quite comfortable and put an almost perceptible strain on my whole body.

He asked once again if I was OK and sounded a bit more concerned this time, but while my tone of voice acknowledged some stress I insisted that I was and kept my face down. It had passed through my head but fleetingly that I might never be normal again, but I had already committed myself to the action and saw that there was no way of returning to the point which came before the position I had arrived at. I felt no fear and did not allow doubt to enter my heart.

The stretching out of my own into fabulous leopard’s legs was a welcome diversion from the stiff front claws and I spent quite a few minutes appreciating the fact that they seemed to be almost a foot longer than usual. In their new-found elasticity was discernable movement within the internal veins, which seemed to override in quality the inert calcified matter of the solid form.

My feet were pointed and held together so I considered that they were affected at the same time. I arched backwards from the base of my spine, constantly aware of my somehow unnatural flexibility, while my arms remained rigid. It felt rather as if a spirit of immense energy was moving my body without revealing itself fully to my mind.

Leopard’s Paw

My eyes were closed and my body, following some sort of direction, arched backwards (with far more grace than would have been natural for a body in such a physically strained position) as if my head wanted to touch my feet. I felt strangely relaxed, as if I knew exactly what was happening, even though I did not have the faintest inkling.

My body seemed incredibly lithe and supple, far more so than usual, as if light were running through my veins. I enjoyed a joyful surge of pure physical strength and energy. I could have been around seven  feet tall, such was the sensation of healthy fluidity, and I experienced curious pleasure through feeling that way. I saw all of this as being a surprisingly desirable first consequence of my exchange with the leopard for its soul: The body.

It must have been warm because my companion removed his shirt before turning me so I was lying face down on the bed, my head close to his chest. He asked if I was Ok, and I was, so it carried on.

My right hand was the focus for the next action and was transformed into something clenched and clawed – almost exactly like a leopard’s paw, I noted with confidence – while my arm bent rigidly as if there was much tension in the limb, at right angles from the elbow. My instinct was to make use of the claws but the action was continued at my left hand as I concentrated intently on the study of my bodily transformation.

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.

Dramatic Script

As we entered my room some hitherto unknown internal prompt brought about the spontaneous enactment of a dramatic script.

Why are you fighting me? he asked, with a peculiarly weary intonation.

I’m not! I returned, with genuine surprise. I only wanted to prove that I was ready, willing, and able, to love him completely.

He lay on the single bed in my room and, looking at me in deep earnest,  asked:  What is it that I can give you?

This seemed to be an offer – of what I could only guess at – and  I was thankfully spared the possibility of making an inappropriate reply because it seemed my proscribed response was set in stone. I recited it in relief:

The only thing I have ever wanted

He puzzled me then by asking:

How do I know you won’t hurt me?

It was a question that seemed to require evidence of some kind. I failed to understand (the facts but not the implications) as I uttered it, but my committed response was that:

I’ll do it.

What would I do; did either of us know and could we even have guessed?

I was aware of a desire to spare him pain, but I did not know of what and could not allow doubt or fear to creep into my countenance for the immediate scene was to be continued without pause for reflection. As he considered the answer I handed him a magical book to read, opened onto a passage about the nature of love. He it and then looked at me with a more seriously respectful expression, which I had not seen him wear before.

That book is amazing

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.

Evil Banished

I turned around again and the force of the wind struck me like a ton of bricks. Overcoming it seemed impossible. The only hope I had was that if I could somehow ‘see myself’ I might snap out of the ‘alternative’ state I was stuck in.

Inching around the walls in the same direction as I’d been going before, still away from the window, I finally reached the wardrobe’s floor to ceiling mirrors. The pressure of the wind was almost unbearable. I gripped the handles of the mirror and forced myself to look at my self, for some reason finding the sight so disturbing that I dared not look closely at my face and most definitely not directly into my eyes.

I was too terrified that I might see a demon to dare look into my eyes. By now I was on the edge of blind panic. I was desperate. What should I do?

Having managed to see myself, I could only think that the next step was to hear myself. The thought of managing to speak seemed so tremendous that I hoped it might constitute an act of will sufficient ‘save’ me.

If the sight of myself had been scary even in this context (for some reason I find it really disturbing seeing any part of my astral body when in another dimensional state), hearing my voice was so distressing that only the thought of certain oblivion if I didn’t pushed me to speak.

It sounded so guttural, warped and ‘demonic’ that I felt indescribably shocked. All the same, I knew that I had to speak in order to live and even though I didn’t know what to say and hadn’t had a chance to even think about it, I managed to get out the words:

God help me

In an absolute split second – so instantaneous that it surprised me at least as much as anything that had gone on before – I was back on the bed with my eyes wide open and one hand on my head. I was like, ‘woaaahhh, what the hell just happened there?’
I was totally alert. It was like I’d been running for dear life to escape a cyclone with no apparent means of escape, but had been lifted spontaneously into complete safety and was henceforth in a place where all the other safe people lived.

Fear was dispelled utterly. I sat up on one elbow and turned to look at the clock. It was still between 1 and 2, round about 1.38. Something had clearly happened ‘in time’.

Feeling immensely relieved, as if I’d had a seriously lucky escape, I quickly fell into a deep and restful sleep, secure in the knowledge that the evil had been well and truly banished.

Edge of an Abyss

As I inched myself away from the window and towards the door I was relieved to find the force abating, to the extent that by the time I’d moved a few metres I was able to stand just outside the doorway quite comfortably, without feeling even a breeze.

It was a studio flat and I was now a step away from the front door, which the moment I looked at it ‘blew open’ outwards into an optical illusion that was impenetrable darkness, the edge of an abyss. It had to be an optical illusion, because despite the extremely unusual circumstances, I was fully conscious, and knew full-well that there was a street light right outside the front door and enough ambient light from the city to ensure it was never completely dark, not even in the depths of night.
With the wind raging behind me but all apparently calm in front, the idea of walking out and away was more than appealing. I was just about to do just that when the pitch of the darkness suddenly struck me and I sensed the collusion of this darkness with the evil wind.

I realised in that instant that I was being lured away from my body and knew that I had to go back. I’ve often wondered what would have happened if I had gone outside instead.