I asked in earnest,
“who am I?”
but was really asking where they placed the Grail–
we should all know this secret, that the true Self is the treasure of treasures.
…
meditation: the practice of surrendering the addiction all of mankind holds to drama. the great dramatic narrative of our lives, for once, we put down the pen and look to reality instead of writing about reality. we let go of the theatrics, the bubble pops.
…
so often, our minds look not at how things are, but how we expect them to be. we construct reality through expectation. to snap out of this is to awake from the sleepwalking state. you become a magician when you can craft your own construct of reality at will. the magician gains greater reign of the fluid inner forces, which translates to the seemingly concrete external world matching that inner fluidity. this is the magic of the mind, to deconstruct and reconstruct your constructs of the world at will is to aim your will towards the world.
on one hand, the eventual rigidity of the mind is a construct of adulthood, both accompanied by major loss and major gain. individuation, perhaps, is created by walls. repetition and routine can both mean major achievement over time, or it can mean a life of numbing monotony without purpose, dying with regret at a life lived half-asleep.
on the other hand, the philosopher’s mind, the mind of the magus, the eternal creative youth who makes life like a lucid dream — this can be limitless inspiration, a Midas touch retained through life, to grow old without ever growing old, or it can be Peter Pan syndrome, living entirely in the realm of possibility without it ever concretizing into something of substance.
intelligent operation between these two opposing principles is Love, the Philosopher’s Stone, that which reconciles the unlike, seeing in what way they are like — the great bridge, the intermediary, facilitator, creator of union.
THE CLOSET MYSTIC 