THE CLOSET MYSTIC

Oh virgin goddess,

Virgin goddess within,

Come forth,

I beckon you,

Come here,

Come in,

Make me like the fertile Earth,

Make my soul your garden —

Let me be well-tended to,

Goddess Ceres,

Demeter,

Holiest of holies,

Mother of mothers,

Plant the seed of life

Within me and my heart

I yield myself to you —

I kneel before thee,

Make me yours,

Born again, a devotee —

And then,

Blessed by your touch,

Might I tend to this Earth,

And all your children,

a coveted garden —

Fertile Earth,

Loving water,

Breath of life,

spiritual Sun —

Conspirators,

Being made holy,

Being made as one —

The elements encircle me,

With clasped hands,

they dance

Each moment a celebration

Of life

The never-ending alchemy

Of fusing opposites

We their progeny

How blessed

How privileged

Am I to merely

Bear witness

To the miracle

Omnipresent,

Ever-unfolding

The less I projected an image of myself onto another, the more I realized that my own completion lies within. 

That which I saw in you existed inside of myself — I was told to find my lover inside. Is this not the forging of the stone? Is not the forging of the stone the end of projection? 

My awakening began when I told myself that I am all the woman I need. Where did this knowing come from? Somehow, the homeostasis of opposing forces was born within my heart — somehow, despite the way I appeared, I found two within — man and woman — and I was the minister of their wedding. I was them both, and I married them, and I became their love. I was their child. I was my own father, I was my own mother, and I was the newborn made manifest from their love’s sacred consummation.

I was this trinity, I discovered within the sacred power of three. 

Why did I allow external meddling to desecrate this sacred bond? Why, oh why did I allow this infidelity? I tossed aside my loyalty to my first love. Oh, the blind spots, oh, the blind spots. It is easy to think oneself enlightened in a vacuum, I suppose. 

But here I am once again. Here I am, having died and currently in the process of being reborn. Once again do I bear witness to myself in sacred silence. And once again do I begin to contort and shift — once again do I bear witness to the inexplicable and impossible. I stare at my reflection, and I become an impossible substance that is somehow three things at the same time. I am man, and then I become woman — and oh, how beautiful — and then I am both.

And then I feel free through the power of the three. 

This trichotomy is liberation, don’t you understand? For in my completion is wholeness. This is love, and I am love. This world sought to pull apart these halves, but the magnetism between these polarities inside of me is too great, and I call that love. That is self-love, this bizarre and glorious wholeness that I somehow forgot. I somehow forgot that I am already complete — why? No more. I remember now. Oh, I remember, and in this remembering is the unlocking of the Paradise that was already here, right under my nose. This is a paradise that only demands us to bear witness, this is paradise that is the Stone. This impossible substance! This impossible substance! It is two, it is one. It is three, mother, father, made daughter/son. 

But now the schism is being sewn once again. Why did I think another person could perform the sewing act? I gave away the needle, thinking another could mend the tear, but inadvertently tossed it into a haystack. 

I am already whole and complete, and tears are released in that knowing. I am whole and complete and I always was, I always was. I am so grateful for this gift. 

I have conferred with the Moon. I am not sure if the conversation ever necessarily ended; or, rather, if she ever stopped speaking to me. I am certain, however, that I stopped listening. 

But I am ready to open this line of communication once again, to hopefully never be closed…

She is the pacifying essence that I’ve longed for. She is that which I’ve become estranged from, and I am that which I have become estranged from. The less I spoke with her, the less I spoke with myself. 

This is what I meant when I said we need outer teachers to give us maps on the inward path. She is my treasure map leading me to the priceless metals within. Celestial silver to aid me in reclaiming the crescent in my heart. She is the panacea to the folly of man. 

She is completion, she is my completion. She is my beginning and my end. She is my means and my end. The Goddess, the Mother. 

She is that which I had been starving for. She ends my hunger. She is unconditional love and devotion. She claims me as her own, the seas will storm and rage if we are estranged. I am hers, and she is mine, she is ours. No matter the folly of man and woman, she is unshakeable, ever there to be relied on. 

Her glory, her glory, her glory. She whispers secrets to generations and generations, one single breath spanning eons, one word muttered forming entire religions, each syllable the rise and fall of an empire. 

I feel dirty and unclean. I have soiled myself. What can I do to clean my soul? What can I do? Take these stains. Take these stains. Wash me, make me like a child again. Baptize me, baptize me, baptize me, whether it be by water or fire, I care not — simply remove these stains, and if I must turn into ash for that to be so, then so be it. 

But if it is still possible for me to be washed by water, if this life can still be redeemed, if you would bless me with not only a flood, but also an Ark, such that the redeemable within me might be preserved with Noah, and the irredeemable within me be taken away for good, to be drowned in your baptismal mercy, then let it be done. Let it be done. Let it be done. 

Some days, there’s a build-up of pressure — this welling of energy, of creative energy, within me. And it’s like, if I don’t express it, then I feel like I’ll pop. There’s just so much, and I feel like I’ve got to do something with it.

I feel like… I don’t even know, man. I simultaneously love talking about these things, because I feel like, sometimes, my existence and experience feel so vague and amorphous that words help to provide a bit of healthy structure and definition; however, I also feel like they can be limiting simultaneously. 

That is the power of the tongue, is it not? That is it, that is the dual nature of Mercury. Our words, our thoughts, our perspectives, our beliefs — they can limit, they can confine, they can restrict — sometimes in good ways, of course, that doesn’t always have to be a bad thing — they can do that, 

or they can liberate and provide freedom, expansion, perspective, euphoria, and be the key to the attainment of forms of bliss — and that’s, I think, perhaps our God-given creative ability.

Words are creative, intrinsically. The universe was created with the Word, and the Word was God. I think that is a beautiful way to put things, because the universe itself was created by sound, by vibration. God spoke the Word into the void, and it was given shape. 

What does our ability to speak possess but the power to create, similarly? So we must remember that. We are creators. I think, therefore I am. I speak, therefore I create. Existence and identity itself are rooted in words, for what is thinking but an internal expression of the verbal, and speaking but an external expression of the very same, the verbal? I think, therefore I am — I speak, therefore I create.

My own thoughts and my own words… what beauty they can manifest! And oh, what torment they can condemn one to! Words, thoughts… they are our creative ability, they are our God-given ability to create, the essence of the Father within us. We are both the Father and the Mother. We are both the Word, the speaker of it, and the void that receives it. We are all of the above, and we ought to recognize that, and speak our highest bliss into existence, to speak joy into existence, to find the radiance of our hearts and shine that light outward, to shine it forth into this great chamber, 

and the echoes that bounce back to us are determined by that which we have spoken. Ask yourself: what is it that you would like to receive back? Ask yourself what it is that you would like to hear. You know, we all know, that that which you put out returns. What goes around comes right back around. So ask yourself when you call out into this great chamber: what echoes would you like to hear back?

I, for one, would like to speak out into this world connection, joy, beauty, knowing, forgiveness, truth, serenity, understanding, and great, true strength. 

For this universe, this very universe itself… we must not yield to the weight that it can incur. This is the battle between the internal and the external. There is the internal spark of self, of individuality, that point of light that is truth that exists within, in our very hearts. And, so often, it is at odds with who we are told to be, and how we are instructed to act. So there is this great opposition between our true selves, and that which this world seeks to mold us into. But no, remember, you are both the speaker, the word, and the void into which that word is placed. Do not let yourself be molded by that which is around you, but rather claim your God-given ability to create: create yourself, create your own world, and claim your own sovereignty.

It’s been said so beautifully that if you do not know who you are, this world will tell you. The world will come to you and ask you who it is that you are, and if you don’t know, it will tell you. It will give you an answer, and it will be that which it sees fit for you to be, not that which is true to your deepest essence. 

This is individuation. Individuation is the inward path. And, it’s so fascinating balancing these polarities of the internal and the external, for I’ve often considered self-knowing as a compass or a map, the Golden Thread to guide us through this Labyrinth. I’ve so often considered inner knowing and self-knowing as being the guide to lead us through the external world, with all of its different treacheries, twists, and turns. 

However, do we not also need to turn outward to guide us on our inner path? Both depend on each other. Even the inward path is better taken with maps that we can find elsewhere, letting ourselves be students and finding real teachers around us in this world. Sometimes we need to find out who we are through experience and through living; 

but so often, too, can we not truly live without knowing who we are by turning inward. Both, both are so necessary. There is a duality and paradox here: that the inner and outer are one and lend into one another. We need the inner to shed light on the outer, and we need the outer to shed light on the inner. Both are one. 

We cannot be afraid of either. We must be ready, adaptable, and mutable enough to face the challenges that both may bring. 

But, so often we have warriors that can only point their sword outward, and have no idea when the real battle is fought within.

And, so often too, we have people who have fought the most glorious and heroic of inner wars, that are too afraid to raise their sword or their voice outward, to be the light this world so desperately needs.

This to me is the balancing of masculine and feminine, king and queen, solar and lunar. It is a lovely, wonderful, and beautiful thing to be readily able to meet both head-on when necessary.

So, then, ask yourself, truly ask yourself:

what battles have you been fighting, and have you been neglecting or ignoring any necessary inward battles, 

and have you been ignoring or neglecting any necessity to raise your sword and march outward?

Is the world asking you to be more like the Sun today, to shine your light forth, to conquer, to rise and conquer this beautiful universe of ours, to make the statement of the strength that exists within, a testimony to the beautiful power of the human spirit, 

or are you being asked to be more like the Moon? To reflect, to step inward, to step inside, inward to the subtle, to be not afraid of the subtle… to lay down your sword, to face what is within…

Like the Crab, like Cancer, the beautiful Crab, ruled by the Moon, sometimes we are asked to shed the tough defensive layer outside, and look truly at the softness, the vulnerable flesh contained underneath, despite how scary it may seem. 

We’ve all got to learn to shed the defensive armor at some point. 

AHA!

there they are

my wings

they just need a little dusting off, is all

now do I fly in search

of ever greater adventure

around the Sun in 88 days

that is my favored pace

I am a shapeshifter

I cannot help it

what suits me today?

I go shower in the Sun,

rinse myself with photons

Then I go inside

And open my closet

Who am I today?

I rifle my fingers

Over a female skin suit

Donning the girdle of Aphrodite

and then I pass over

my male self, the seasoned warrior,

having trained under Ares himself

(of course the hermaphroditic form

is favored

yet despite being both sides of the coin,

at once

can you fully see either face

if looking from the side?)

I look up and see my angelic self,

A pure light being, eternal

then my eyes glance down

and I see the animal within

the wild and free wolf,

carnal, silly brute

I look over and then see

The twelve zodiac signs

At the center, Polaris

I see the Sun,

I see the Moon

Who will I be today?

Who will I be today?

I settle for the mime’s attire

For that is the only truth I can tell

That I am a mimic

I am all of these and none of these

And I adore this truth

That there is no truth

And yet they are all the truth

As I’ve said before,

What is illusion but an aspect of truth,

And truth but the sum total of all illusions?

I am fixed in my protean nature, darling.

Sometimes no creative medium can keep up with the speed at which my mind may move. Of course, this means I must slow down and channel the energy well, to ground it down, down down,

Or, that the creative mediums which I am thinking I must use are not suitable at the moment! 

Dude… The Sun. Is a good thing. (hehe) And so is Mercury. Mercury, I have, I feel like, where do I even begin? Where do I even begin? Sometimes it feels pointless to even begin remotely… trying to explain things of this nature. I’m not making any fucking sense, but at least I’m aware of it!

But… so core to my nature does it feel (Mercury). And, I feel like the youth and androgyny, even, of Mercury is so core to my being, and yet so forgotten. It’s as if I’ve convinced myself that life needs to be taken so extraordinarily seriously, but what are we to do here but play?

Allow your curiosity to take you, allow the spirit of adventure and wanderlust to take you. Allow yourself to bounce from star to star, weaving together the connections between them all into incredible constellations..

Let yourself be free. These rules and bounds that you’ve defined for yourself are self-imposed, so so so self-imposed. Sometimes the ways in which we try to maintain sanity only take us farther away from it. How insane is it to force ourselves into tight and confining boxes that only perpetuate our suffering? How insane is it to do that?

And, I feel like that’s how I’ve been living. I’ve been convincing myself that I need to suffer for some reason, yet it’s been entirely self-created, and I do feel like that’s the nature of suffering itself, a matter of perspective and belief, how we decide we need to feel.

Ultimately, what we need to understand is that we are free, and that freedom and imprisonment alike exist within the mind. We can choose to tap into the mind’s ability to liberate, or its ability to confine, and it is entirely our choice. It is entirely your choice. 

Realize that if you wish for it to be so, the handcuffs that bind you will simply click open and you will be free. Realize that, know it, feel it. You choose. You create your own adventure, you create your own life. You create your destiny.

It is entirely of your own making, and at the end of the day (God, I say ‘ultimately’ and ‘end of the day’ so much) what are we all but children?

Adulthood is a lie. Adulthood is an illusion. Adulthood is the greatest delusion that exists, for in the grand cosmic scheme of all that exists, and the ultimate power of the higher power of  this universe, relative to that force and the cosmos, we are all children. We must remind ourselves of that and remain humble, for to the powers that be, what power do we truly have?

We are all students. We are all students. And I believe that the greatest teachers in this life are the greatest students. If you remain perpetually, eternally a student of this world, universe, and all of the beauty and magic that exist therein, one day, you naturally will fall into the position of being at teacher.

But never consider yourself a teacher — you are only one who relays from other teachers. You are a node between points of knowledge. 

i got braken up wit

She sed are relationship wuznt lit

so she said peace out boi, dis is it

me now sad

Sad

Sad

dis bad

not glad

me mad

grrrrr

why?

cuz I got braked up on

she braked up on me

rawr

I wanted to announce that I am finally moving forward with the task of concretizing the definitive tale of my spiritual awakening. I will be releasing a series on this website.

I’m excited.