This was considered a day of honouring, once. A day of commemoration and a kindling of subtle light. Magdalena. The shining ones of the inner realm, as it was in those days of the true gnosis. Or at least those days of the earnest seeker. More than mothers, fathers, lovers or friends. Souls, nuanced and awake. Those ancient ways made real again in the face of all corrupt orthodoxies. I still recall those dark practices that allowed slavery, genocide and oppression of every kind. When men would lie fervently and claim such horror was sanctioned by a lesser or greater god. Whilst in the shadows evil angels were knowingly enthroned. For power, or fleeting wealth. Such practices were made writ after the Fall. Those dark rituals, those violent charms that soon fooled the entire earth into believing man was not the brother of man. Every culture darkened, each wisdom council perverted until we no longer saw the common ground in each other's stories. We no longer felt the kindling of divine fire. Those many names upon the pillars, as Abram once sought. Today we still butcher our kin and know so little of those ways and altars of the true Lord. And yet we call ourselves loving devotees of the most high. Storytelling religionists bound together under one covenant, espousing love and freedom for all. And some of us really do believe in such freedoms, defending the rights of our brothers and sisters to seek hidden truth, to tell different stories, to find their own paths toward heaven. The intricacy of our shared mythology, like an island chain connected beneath the surface, was known to each one of us before the Fall. Indeed, it was these very truths that were inscribed upon those pillars of antiquity. And I, Kasi of Eth’iir, have seen how a kind and courageous heart remembers those truths wordlessly. Beyond symbol or sign. I've seen how such a heart emboldens our faith and deepens our understanding. Music of the spheres. What is true empathy and heart-light, if not the God-given shared humanity that binds us all? Angels are still a presence in this world and not all of them fell like lightning with the star. Some of them chose to come here. For friendship and family. For love. Hear me, friends. On her account did I descend. And though these forces of darkness have tried for so long to desecrate this day, whispering in the ears of the cruel, the broken and disturbed, I won't let it pass without comment. It’s ok to feel the sadness. To mourn, and grieve. We’ve lost so much. Epinoia herself weeps on this day. But these massacres, recent and historic, will not shatter the human spirit. We will honour all those who were cut down. The young and old. The stranger and the friend. We will remember them on this day and continue kindling that subtle light. It's a light that speaks of honour, compassion and mutual affection. It gathers and grows with each heart that joins the chorus, becoming a powerful beacon in the dark. We know this is true because we've all felt it at least once in our lives. Indeed, often it's this very beacon that signals we are home, or close to home. Let it remind us that we’re all one vast family, one people of many tribes and creeds. I write this because I want the people I love to know the truth. The human spirit is holy in its essence, having been made in the image of our true Creator. If you doubt this go now and look into the eyes of your beloved ones. Your wife, husband, sibling or child. That warmth and appreciation you find at their innermost, that very thing that quickens you with joy – that is the marker of their eternal soul. Their immortality. The loving ingenuity of the real God. We shall always live forever in realms beyond the known, but we are never more alive than when we share such quickening. To my own beloved ones I say to you now, I'm so grateful that I get to share these days and this journey with you. Even though we grieve. Love is the true gnosis in the end, and its depths and secrets are endless. Have I stirred your soul these past years? Have I eased your suffering in some way? I hope so. I know you’ve done that very thing for me. And so I thank you for your light. For all the ways you have kindled and quickened my heart.
Monday, 11 July 2022
The Dreaming Mind is a doorway. A gate to realms of Light or Darkness. Places of joy and sorrow. I think it's this dreaming aspect of our souls that can cause the most damage or do the most good. All our scriptures, folklore and legends say that we have a divine spark within us. That we are made in the image of our Creator. I think it's this power that can pave the road to Heaven or Hell. Our creative, combining faculties are infinitely more mysterious than we currently comprehend. We are co-writing our destiny in each moment with the holy gift of free will. This gift from our Creator. Let us treasure this gift, eternally. No matter how our names, symbols or descriptions of God might differ. We can find each other through our stories and our art, if we are courageous and kind. Love is the most high in the end. The infinite, unfathomable splendour. Each time we let it touch our souls we are healed a little. We become more than we were. Let us use these gifts to glory our Maker and the miracle of Creation. These better angels of our nature. Let our dreaming lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. We are family, after all. And friends. Love is everything we are. This is the true kingdom in the end. The power, and the glory.