As We Improve So Do All Beings Around

It is not easy to discern the nature of the situation. At this point, the coronavirus is mutating—as expected. As humans work to strengthen defenses by internal and external means—enhancing immunological response, masks, regulations, and vaccines—the virus is under pressure to improve its capability of attaching to the body and reproducing itself.

This is common in our symbiotic relationship with microbes. We would not exist without them. Yes, they have created deadly and crippling strands, but also have created variations that have become an intrinsic part of our body and even our DNA. Viral mutations and their access to our DNA code has allowed some of them to become part of the survival tools we have developed; and indeed, part of what has improved our capacity to feel more, to grow in consciousness, and to develop our capacity to evolve.

As we seek to become immune from this virus, there is an intelligence attempting to make the virus better at what it does. It is the same intelligence that allows humans to try to understand and survive. Either the virus gets controlled and rendered innocuous, or it becomes too strong for us—is how most of us tend to think of the road ahead. However, evolutionary ethnohistory teaches us that there are times when the viral entity has become so good as to learn not only to bypass our defenses, but to evolve to the point where it becomes a important collaborative tool for our evolution, increasing thus our intelligence, sensorial acuity, and capacity to face this infinite vastness wherein we thrive.

What is to happen with this one strand? We don’t know, except for one thing. We must do what we have always done: strive beyond the limits of our comfort to understand, to survive, and to keep growing in joy to thrive in the face of any and all adversities. This is what allows all beings around us to also strive to improve.

As we evolve, so do all things around us.

Face this time with courage, therefore, and stay alert. But do not succumb to dread and fear of the unknown. Do not fall into the pit of false knowledge either. Opting to feel the comfort of belief is the hubris of a lazy mind. Know, instead, that we are always facing an endless field of light in infinite extension, unknowable, and in this facing of the mystery of existence we take each step into the unknown with courage, with joy, and with the evolutionary tested strategy of having each other’s back. Thrive in the knowledge that as we get better at what we do, so do all sentient beings.

This Cocoon, My Heart

Jodorowski once told me of a photographer in Mexico who was shooting images of cocoons. “They are neither worms nor butterflies,” she explained, “I’m taking photographs of the nothing.”

For the Toltec, the alchemically transformed heart is represented by an obsidian butterfly.

Your heart is a cocoon. Inside there is a seed of the infinite, a silent void in the dark, a particle of the eternal night.

Let it be fed with the dreams of the best and purest of lights.

Neither moth nor worm,
the angelic cocoon dreams
with flutters of light.

Photography by Adumbrations Photography

https://instagram.com/adumbrations_photography?igshid=1ceuqz67s4rc0

Through the Cobwebs of Illusion

Illumination is not some unreachable and mysterious
attainment.

Eliminate the distractions.
Know
it is possible;
for it is already in you.

The process of connecting
with your truth begins with
removing the shadow of forgetfulness
that you were assailed with
when you took an organic incarnation.

In this uncovering
there is truth.

When the vast dark consciousness
is clear and clean
the truth shines
like the reflection of the moon
in water.

Truth is beyond any notion
of lineage,
of tradition,
beyond any history.

If you don’t have it,
no one can give it to you.

It is not in learning.
It is in the removal of the dross
that obscures.

Anything that can be given to you
belongs in the arena of mentation and ideas:
equally false and only partially true.

And the truth,
which is above that,
you have.

The only thing you can attain
is
yourself.

It’s just that ‘yourself’ is
a lot more
than you suspect.

(From a lecture by The Telling by Koyote the Blind. Poetically curated by Season Cole)

Consecrated

In the magickal tradition, to consecrate an item is to change an ordinary object into a magical weapon. The transformation happens by ceremonially dedicating the object to a single task, rendering the object unavailable and useless to all other uses.

This way, a regular knife can become the magical dagger that represents and channels the intellect of the magician; a cup becomes the holder of the lustral waters emanating from above; the disc becomes the representative of the physical plane; a wand becomes the weapon that directs the intent and will of the magician; the lamp, the symbol of the higher assemblage point emanating astral light to be worked and molded by the magician; and a simple vial of oil is now an external representation of the most sacred aspiration behind the heart of the magician.

The process of consecrating an item can be quite simple. A dagger can be consecrated by etching on it a word that represents the true self of the magician. Then, the holy oil is used to bless and consecrate the dagger formally. Rubbing the oil while saying the magical word or phrase etched on the blade, ceremonially seals the consecration. For the Cup, etch a number that magically represents the vibration of your true self—various forms of numerology can guide the magician on this. For the Wand, the will in infused into it from the pure intent that flows from the solar plexus, in silence, but with intense concentration on the force that has been with you since you were born. All the other items of the temple are consecrated with this magical oil, full attention, and with the intent to use the item for the purpose of representing one specific part of your being.

The real transformation happens in the mind of the magician, but once an item has been consecrated, is crucial that the magical weapon is only used for the purpose it was designed, and nothing else. The Wand can only be used in magical workings to direct the force of will, and the Dagger can never be used to cut butter or to fight. Each item is consecrated to be used in the temple, and to represent different aspects of the magician’s consciousness.

In the end, the temple becomes your universe and the holder of your magical persona. The more you work in your temple, the more your mind, body, and spirit become aware of the parts of your being and how they work together to form the magician, and thus become the conduits of the magical essence inside the magician.

This, then is the greatest and truest consecration, to offer up my own being to be used for one purpose only, as the magical weapon to be used for the Will of the Infinite. All consecrations performed have shown how to consecrate each part of myself to my pure Will, and then I go further and consecrate the totality of me as a weapon with a single purpose, to be used for the manifestation of Cosmic Intent. After this, the magician is consecrated and free to accomplish the Great Work, the pure will now freed from restrictions and all other distractions eliminated .

The dictum of the Book of the Law is thus accessible to the consecrated magician:

“Let it be that state of manyhood bound and loathing. So with thy all, thou hast no right but to do thy will. Do that, and no other shall say nay.” (Liber Al: I-42, 43)

To Dispel the Fog of Dreams

There is a real power,
a true heart in this land.
The true preciousness in this continent was not taken.
It is not gone.

It is alive.
Because it was not a book.
It was not a building.
It was not a painting.
It was not a “history”.

The true wealth of this continent
has simply been dormant
in the trees,
in the bones of the people.
It’s alive in the silent
coming and going
of the blood in our veins.

It is in the sky.
It is in the curve of the eagle
as it circles it’s prey.
It is in the roaring sound of the waves,
speaking for centuries,
against the rocks.

It is in the depth of that ocean
that we can never touch,
but we can all feel
if we grow in silence.

It is in the air I breathe,
and in every person that died-
that fed with their blood,
those creatures that spoke to us
before the false god came to this land.
So that one day they may awaken once again,
and enter
my body,
and crawl around my spine,
and emerge as a serpent
over my head,
and see through my eyes.

Those are still here
and talking to us.

This continent is awakening.
The continent is about to utter,
in poetic explosions,
the wisdom of all times.
To speak through the sounds of the brujo.
Ancient sounds in modern words.

We are about to experience the drunkeness
of ancient wines in ever-new cups.
We speak directly with the powers
of the land, of the stars, of nature.

We speak directly with the voice of the blood,
and the signs on the skin.
No need for a holy book,
a sacrament, building, or hierarchy.

We speak things of power.
And they are opening their eyes,
and awakening once again.
to dispel the fog of dreams.

(Season Cole’s poetically curated notes from a lecture by Koyote the Blind.)

I’ve Learned

I’ve learned to show strength
when there was weakness.

I’ve learned to lure an enemy with weakness
when there was strength.

I’ve been manipulated into someone else’s morality.

It’s the way that they say:
He’s not a tattletale.
He’s honest.
He’s kind.
He’s generous.
He’s a ‘Good Christian’.
He sacrifices for others.

It’s the way that they say anything
to get you to do what they want you to do.
It’s their own lie they plant in you.

People manipulate each other
by praising each other’s weaknesses.
When you buy into these lies
and neglect your higher duty
to not violate the moral control of others
you compromise the things and people around you
that are of that higher obligation
and there to help.

There is only one question:
What is truth?
This truth is your compass,
not the illusion presented before you.
If you know what truth is,
you will act in truth.
And what others do doesn’t matter.

It’s a game
and it’s all happening in a dreamland.

When you can think ahead 10 moves,
you’re getting good.
When you can think ahead 20 moves,
you’re an expert.

The Grandmaster see’s only one move:
the right move.

The right move is truth.
And that is always done from above.

(From a lecture by Koyote The Blind, poetically curated by Season)

There Will Be Wine

The sacred goes where it wants to go.
Who is anyone to try to contain it
as if it were an object?

It doesn’t belong to the prophets.
No one owns what is of the gods.
I can do things
with the teachings,
with the work
that are wrong.
And that is on me.

The punishment
is that my child is slain:
the legacy,
the work,
the lineage vanishes and disappears.

Success is thy proof.

Whatever the others say about you
your techniques,
your beliefs,
your ideas,
your heresies…

The only thing that counts is success,
because it is in the hands of the gods.
If the gods look favorably on your results,
then that will survive.
If they don’t like what you present,
it will die.

We are divine.
That sacred juice flows through us.
Our product is that grape that will become wine.
But it’s not up to us what fruit will become wine.
It’s up to the gardener.

The gardener picks
the grapes that will become wine
and the ones that will not.

It’s not up to me
what my work will produce.
All I can do is produce.
If I’m right,
there will be wine.

(Poetically edited notes by Season Cole, from a talk by The Telling by Koyote the Blind)

Why I Lay This Soul to Be Torn Apart

I have seen the dunes of time, rolling with the shifting sands of the endless desert between the dream of life and the wake world of the House Absolute.

Who can cross this unforgiven vastness?

Who survives the ancient whirlwind that tears apart gods and worlds?

Who stands whole before the terrible stentor of The Heart Of The Sky, whose voice creates and destroys the infinite abode?

Who will cross this desert, whose ever shifting dunes are formed out of the cold breath of the eternal void upon the sand of time where every grain is the unique divine point of view of every traveller, of every dreamer of the House Absolute who ever entered this desert void?

And why is it, beloved of my soul, that I would lay that very soul to be torn apart, to add one insignificant grain to the infinite sand? It is so that you too may come to find your completion, your satiety in the constant embrace of the beloved, and that you may also know the glory in plenitude as I have.

They Had to Keep Us Ashamed

“The high priests of the slave religions knew that for the human being to never be able to reclaim the magnificent vistas of the higher worlds, and for the human being to nevermore be able to satiate the yearning and the pain, they had to keep us ignorant.

They had to keep us ashamed of this force that rises from the loins, that inundates the body. They had to make us believe—really believe—that this force was only for procreation; and for those who rebelled, to make us believe that this force could also be used for fun. While both are true, they hid from us that these forces are not just for procreation or fun; they hid from us that the very force that creates a universe is hidden in our flesh.

From then on, all those who create churches or gods, families and groups; all those that divide us between genders, clans, politics, casts, nations and social class, are only working to keep us away from the true genius that lies dormant within the dark confines of the flesh.“––The Witches’ Sabbath

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