We Create When We Read Poetry

The writer is an author creating the flow of the speech. However, when we translate a manuscripts from one language to another, we reinvent it. We create it again. Borges explained that the translator of poetry has to be a poet, because when translating poetry, we recreate. We do not just change the words from one language to another, we have to interpret it and reproduce our own version in a different language.

And even when we read the written word we must translate the meaning, and in that we reinvent it, recreate it, give it a form. We can’t help but be the co-authors of everything we read, everything we understand, and everything we perceive.

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Without the Swelling of the Heart, No Story Is Worth Telling

In the silence between word and word, between day and day… in the silence between dream and dream, between knowledge and understanding, between thoughts and emotions… in that silence that exists before thought and feeling become one… in that moment of silence before the pushing forth of meaning, the foundations for the making of the world flowers from the depth of the abyss.

It’s in that flowering that the tides of the waters of my heart flow unrestricted; seeking who knows what;moving where they’re being pulled.

Without the swelling of those waters, without the emanation of that light, no story is worth telling.

Click here to listen to this Telling of the Oceanic Tryptic.

The Plumed Serpent Within The Inner Circle of Humanity.

The Inner Circle of humanity is the true source of knowledge and authority behind every esoteric school, every major religion, and every initiatory spiritual movement. Whenever an esoteric school looses its connection to this true source, the school carries only a carcass, an empty mausoleum of rotting remnants of what once was a living teaching. This sad situation happens more often than not, for every time an esoteric school seeks to have power and influence in the external world, they ground the energy flowing from above and settle in the external world. Once grounded, all they have is political intrigue, power grabbing intents, and petty wars to secure the few bones remaining of what once was a living body of Wisdom.

But the Inner Circle continues its work: initiating temples, schools, and even civilizations to achieve their evolutionary aims. To each region of the world, to each race, and to each historical period they gave seemingly different techniques and precepts; but in truth, all their teachings had the same aim and the same results: illumination, evolution, and the ability to become a receiver of gnosis.

Here in the Americas, we developed our own tradition, and the same situation is encountered again where a semi-mythical, semi-historical character appears to impart principles of knowledge, civilization, and science. He was known as Quetzalcoatl–the Plumed Serpent–in his first incarnation of a little over 5,200 years ago. He is said to be the one to teach the people of this region the principles of initiation, the techniques for contacting higher intelligence, the formulas for building civilizations and esoteric schools. He was the principal manifestation of the Inner Circle of humanity in these lands.

The Treasures the Invaders Missed

“…Lend me your attention for a moment, and I’ll go on a journey to a different place with you. 

In this place of power, something deep in you will stir awake and stand up in attention. It is then my aim to attempt to unveil, uncover, and reveal that which has been lost; but not lost as in gone forever, simply misplaced, forgotten. 

These are the hidden treasures that the Spanish soldiers missed, the treasures they couldn’t take with them, the treasures that had been buried deep in the rich soil of the American continent. 

And now, with the light of the New Sun, it’s time for this buried seed to sprout, to seek the light, and to share its perfume with the world.”

from The Teachings of a Toltec Survivor

I Am a Figment of Your Imagination

The one who speaks and the one listens, that is the “I” and the “you” implied in a sentence, are theoretical entities. That is, they may be actual beings as, for example, the person who wrote this and the person who is reading it, but the sentence itself exists even when no one is reading it and when no one is saying it any more.

This writing stays there somewhere without any real being saying it and no one reading it. It reads as if there is an author and an audience, even if no one witnesses it, but the author and the audience become actual only when someone reads it. It is the reader, then, that gives life to the writing, making the author and the reader actual, real.

And even then, the one who writes when this paragraph is being read is not the person who wrote it, but the theoretical entity implied in the mind of the person who reads it. I, the writer, am only an entity implied by these words you read. I am a figment of your imagination, only part of you created by you through the mechanism of this language, by the magick of these words you read. “I” am only implied by these words.

Your mind creates me in your mind, yet I could not exist in your mind as the author of these words without the existence of these words, these words that never really existed until someone read them, these words that were not real until now, when you are.

The Hidden Treasures the Spanish Soldiers Missed

“It is then my aim to attempt to unveil, uncover, and reveal that which has been lost; but not lost as in gone forever, simply misplaced, forgotten.

These are the hidden treasures that the Spanish soldiers missed, the treasures they couldn’t take with them, the treasures that had been buried deep in the rich soil of the American continent.

And now, with the light of the New Sun, it’s time for this buried seed to sprout, to seek the light, and to share its perfume with the world.”

The Teachings of a Toltec Survivor

A View from the World of the Nahual

If successful, this book will be more than entertainment and much more than a source of information and ideas hard to find elsewhere. You have in your hands more than a collection of theories and entertaining stories. You have an artifact, a container of a very old wisdom that is still alive. If you lend me your attention, I promise you that something of a seed will stir—something imbued in the pages of this tome.

This book will be a transformational factor in your hands. Don’t expect a linear narrative, nor attempts to convey unidimensional perspectives of the world. It is not an academic book full of discussions and references to other writings. It’s not a manual with exercises for you. This book has encounters of power, strange points of view, practical advice, effective techniques, and historical data; but it is more than that.

This book is a view from the world of the Nahual—the Toltec Survivor who shares his being with you as you read. If you place your attention on the narrative, you will know that I am talking to you directly, a heart to heart conversation.

You will know that in reading this narrative, you are altering the world in you and around you, as a dreamer alters a dream when she begins to wake up to her personal power. Lend me your attention for a moment, and I’ll go on a journey to a different place with you. In this place of power, something deep in you will stir awake and stand up in attention.

Get your copy of The Teachings of a Toltec Survivor here.

My Sacred Prayer

One day this bubble of existence will burst into a million pieces, sending fire and light, and spread it all through creation.

Or maybe it will dissolve into the liquid nothingness of the solar waters that flow from that sunset that’s been waiting to come for all eternity.

It will then be so that every experience I ever had, every word I ever said, every pain I ever caused, and every hope I ever gave will turn to be just the vibrant resonance, just the booming ocean, just the happy dance, and dissolve in that ocean of experience and move amongst your shadows as meaningless signs and sights.

May I never live through that!
May the memory of me fade away in time.
May my soul not be important.
May my life not be object of remembrance below or above.
May I not be significant.

May my shadows be forgot and go their way, where the shadows go and the light of Her eyes shine brightly.

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