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The Hu-Man Child Comes of Age
Editor's Note:
Most of the writing done on this website tends to be worded in language
guided by my left brain. As unlearned as it is, error is nonetheless
inevitable if knowledge is solely confined to the corridors of logic.
For this piece I chose to access the right-side, not out of any New
Age acquiescence to its superiority, but perhaps aiming to address an
imbalance in my communication style. I therefore submit for your enjoyment
this break from the norm as I share with you some insights gained recently
through an interface with the non-local, non-logical stream of consciousness
available to us all.
In my reverie I consulted the voices that are still very much a mystery to me. While life has many potential objects that can be used as a medium for the transmission of information across time, space and dimensions, I am quite fond of the Tarot. It is perhaps the oldest book in human history and no doubt carries much of our yet to be discovered wisdom within its arcane musings. Aleister Crowley's deck, known as the Thoth Deck, is my personal favorite. Knowledge of the cards is not necessary for understanding the story that follows. It is simply mentioned to enhance the experience of those familiar with the Old Magus' work. I held in my left hand the legacy of the Gypsies, that most ancient of races who have, through merriment and wandering, survived all the machinations of evil this planet has ever mustered. What message would travel down through the aeons to me in this moment? My attention was brought to the Nine of Swords, to which the Crowley Deck attributes the trait of CRUELTY. "Life is this," said the voice, over and over, "Life is this." It was hard not to argue. The card features nine swords hanging vertically, dripping with blood, as any good sword is apt to do. Whether the weapon was used for good or ill in the end does not matter if it is your blood on the end of that sword. The spilled life force realizes too late that another tool might have provided better happiness. Not one to be turned away so easily at the door, I persisted in asking, "Must it be like this?" (Where the desire behind such a question arises is enough to meditate upon for years, but that is the subject of another tale.) "Why can't life be this?" I challenged, with the Ten of Disks in my hand. Surely there is enough WEALTH to go around in an abundant universe that can fuel the dreams of us all? My query seemed aided by silent yet interested forces, as the Two of Wands now presented itself in the debate, bolstering the candidacy of my insolent preference for a different way of living. The spiritual force of DOMINION knew how to create abundance for all, if it could be harnessed and understood for creative rather than destructive purposes. It was then that the force of knowing or instruction fixed my gaze steadfastly on the Fifth Trump, known throughout the Ages as the HIEROPHANT or the Mystagogue. Of the human representations in the deck, none appears to be wiser, except perhaps the Fool, and he was too busy laughing at the seriousness of human existence to be of any help to me in this lesson. "At last," I exclaimed, "Now we are getting somewhere!" But the Hierophant is no loose-lipped whistle-blower in the Agency of Universal Secrets. Like much of the power structure that governs this earth, he operates in the fashion of hiding nothing, so as to mask everything. "The truth lies before your eyes…if only you have the heart to see it!" he said. And sure enough, the sage was correct; for there in the pictures' bosom appeared a young, virile child. His penis was erect, suggesting creative forces of pleasure awaiting release. Yet the child's right leg was bound to something not revealed in the pictogram, purporting that his time is not yet come. And in my reverie, my mission was confirmed in a way I could never have anticipated in the logical state. That Child in the heart of All Mysteries is you and I. An age of pleasure is maturing as we speak if only we can summon the courage to see clearly and nurse it into manifestation. I am certain it is my life's passion to do so! The infantile nature of humanity is not to be bemoaned if it can be parented into adulthood with wisdom and compassion. But many of you know that earth is plagued with child-abusing elders, not all of them native to this planet or this dimension. The power of choice, the power of submission, and the power of allowing have been neglected through the purposeful steering of our perceptions away from these innermost gifts and towards the outermost, mundane shells of alien/corporate egos all too frightened and stupid to stop the cycle of abuse. But it can be stopped, my friends, for this feat was accomplished in me, an abused child of third density earth like most of the rest of us. The moment of awakening was swift, yet it is likely that the fulcrum for such a shift was in place long before I became conscious of it. It is that very swiftness of change that causes me to aspire to sharing this feat with others. But maybe in a chaotically evolving universe high rates of infant mortality are the norm. Even if such a thing were true, no unlearner can live as if that were so while breath still animates our forms! Whose Life are You Living? |
