The Conjunction Jupiter & Saturn.
Up until this time the only pathways to ascension meant we were required to pass through one of the few pre established religious checkpoints, for me it was the church. And we sprouting up in a culture that has evolved to lean less on these muddled hotchpotch of spiritual tales, and more so on our own intuition. The same intuition that compels us to seek and test our own knowledge of what we believe to be immutable truth.
To find our own path.
With time as our tutor we have developed our crafts and sciences, sharpened our perceptions, and taken into account the many philosophies and ideas that has shaped the nature of our reality.
This is my intention with these writings. Our fellowship in finding the words, and giving a voice to that which will become a governing philosophy of our time. Serving as a guiding light to those who will receive it. One to encompass all. As we know all is One. Not at all a religion, but a series of access points by which everyone can come to understand the unity of consciousness.
I may say, “I” in this but is not my ego speaking. Although ego does impart protection to my purer intentions. Serving as an armor to the world, preserving the wonder, love and dreamy spirit of the kid I know to still reside inside. That inner childlike spirit serving as the key. Imagination––our greatest weapon. Our hope to combat despair. Giving glimpses, and images into different, better realities.
And this world full of spectators, that would have us scrambled, left alone to endure their reality, to become fear and loathing itself.
Outwardly, when I speak about the grandeur of the universe and of my feelings of strong connection to it, my passion and spirit is commonly perceived as ego, as the thin vainer of vanity. As if I am ridden with some Messiah complex. And why should they think differently? In our age it is commonplace to be but a parlor doll, gate keepers to the status quo. Anyone who questions it, MUST BE simply to garner a name for himself.
In this case. No. I seek truth for truth’s sake.
So I have come to rely on Ego as my armor to the world. A series of experiences, some of them accomplishments, set goals, personal milestones and revelations that become us.
Our experiences. Our story.
Experiences we must leverage to become our own churning core of hydrogen. But first, we must make peace with these. Tending not to the adult we have grown to be, and instead the small child that still endures. By knowing the child exists, I am finding ability to sort through seeds of resentment and plant only those of mutual understanding and compassion. As we continue to pass through time it is the anxiety that overwhelms me when I feel the separation from my inner child. After the passing of innocence, It becomes easy to envy youth. Fermented fear of the changing tides growing into hatred and contempt for time itself.
Towards life itself.
Noticing evermore Greed’s resilience. Pride’s arrogance. Gluttony’s all consuming consumption. And from inside the belly of the beast it is sloth that will become our complacent companion, subject to his many apathetic moods.
As I try to nurture this child of mine, inside, I comfort him, and mourn not his death, but the passing of his innocence. Oh the days I was so blissfully aloof of the sorrows that inevitably befall these mundane days. Or of the knife of silence that would be held against our throats, clutching and choking our faintest whispers. The on-lookers encouraging us to simply sit here, shut up and be something–– yet nothing.
And the substance of my shadows be but the angst, the fight to keep this spirit alive, and In this fight, the only path I foresee bringing peace to my ever compressing soul, is to give it back what was given to me. To see my own hopes and dreams rest on the distant horizons of all others, and treat them as my own.
There is hope in this task. There is love here.
We must Give. It. back.
By way of what channel will we seek to accomplish this task? We know why we run, but how can we run this race effectively?
I wish to be united with not just one star, but the entire cosmic radiation field, to draw on infinite energy of all dimensions that we now know to exist quite definitively.
In waves of light or the absence of it.
This mysterious matter we know to be darkness. Unseen, but certainly notable. I see the stars, separate burning orbs of light, and my eye’s pupil–– Dark–– absent of it. Then it must be inside? The keys to this vast mysterious kingdom.
It is in and of us. Our choices. The crossroads. The vails into other worlds.
Our world comprised of signs and time. Consciousness abounds. Everything is intelligence! And it is our choice to interact with it, or not to interact.
“To be, or not to be,” Yes?
Everything up until this point.
Following the timeline, the many breadcrumbs left by history’s most prominent figures, a trail of numbers, and perfect squares. Obscure poems, haikus, translating as “light verses.”
I believe that I am, we are, one of the more authoritative steps on this ladder ascending into the heavens that is the vast interconnected consciousness. That of other worlds beyond and our own.
Tomorrow I imagine a glorious mass ceremony of the cosmos. A meeting of shadow and substance. A merging of worlds. What a glorious triumph it will be to step out from inside ourselves. Past our innocence, beyond our fears, into our divine self certainty.
It is our destiny to experience this awakening collectively, rejoicing in each other.
In the complexities of these revelations lies the simplicity of their implementation. It is the circle, the sphere, the portal we must step through. It is our choice to take up our birthright and in our shared responsibility of nurturing the world that has bore us.
That feeling of reciprocation, of unity, is what we are craving as a people. What we know we’re missing in our world–– We have the knowledge, but the human connection has been purposefully blocked.
We are the bridge.
Connection––and by way of our creating order out of chaos, we have sorted ourselves to the point that we see all the masses of one another as separate, and can only dream of equality.
So––how do we reach out and touch destiny? Is it chance that gave us a fate?
Or fate that has given us a chance?
And would either affect our resolve?
How do we permeate the other dimensions? Slice through all the BS and strike the humanity in our cores. Igniting a fuse that will burn and pass as embers into the new world.
I believe It is a choice. To see, after first having possessed the desire to see. Asking the questions that gnaw and seeking the answers that be.
It must be! If everyone does their part.
What is yours, and what is mine? Can we know it?
We must If we are to be made taskmasters.
If we seek to find, and knock to know, and tread the line of divinity by way of our most virtuous traits, we will experience the death to ourselves, the people we thought we’d be, and rise up to meet ourselves once more. A transcended being. Made through and of consciousness.
But first–– witnessing and mourning the passing of our own innocence.
This is where my heart lay heavy for days at a time. I barricade myself in my lone corner, that could very easily become adapted to be my casket if I fail to break the paralysis.
“Life, liberty, and the Pursuit of happiness”— “the original cause will always be its undoing.”
As in these United States, we are anything but united In the purists outside ourselves for the divine natural powers in which we already innately possess, but are forbidden to admit our own knowing of. Our love only encouraged to extend to yours and our own.We see not each other as ourselves, or ourselves as One another.
A passage from Emerson’s self reliance articulates this best;
Reality enforces this conformity each day, through every action that does not stand in the threshold of shared reality, and question its nature; constantly thrusting us into the whirlwind of the world’s whims.
Let us clear away the distortions in the light. Beat and batter the doors of truth, and not be disheartened and crushed when our questions are met with the errs of all others.
Living each day––consumed, yes, as we all do. Comfortably complicit we dare to become. Filling our thoughts with envy and regret as time quenches those dead and dark horizons driven by the ego. When our impressiveness of our armor is used to garner adornment and admiration of others. Instead of being in service to others. Then we are lost amongst ourselves. Ghosts among men.
This is why I run.
The empires of today only seeks to service their own selfish need for control, power, and greed. Seeking to cement and cast us as those empty, powerless city dolls. How easy it’d be to take that path along the coast. But ignorance is not bliss when we are no longer mere babes.
Ego does not speak here. I see not my shiny armor as adornment, seeking admiration of others, as we are so tempted to do in our youth. I strive to wear my amor with humility, and with an ever increasing understanding of its power.
I only seek to acquire the know-how, strength, stamina and courage to wield the doubled edged sword of hope and despair with wisdom. Aiming for truth and drawing from a boundless quiver of infinite compassion, understanding, and Love.
This the task of our time, and we have awaited the dawn. It is upon us.
Here in this darkness before our awakening; the question that erodes evermore,
“Who... are you?”
Solve for X.
I greatly appreciate your indulging me. I am a philosopher, I exchange and trade ideas for sustenance, as I would corn, grain, or twill.This is who I am. And stand to know myself better for having known you. — Justin Ray