(Disclaimer: I was high as fuck when I wrote this. I do not mean to assert myself as a religious authority by any means, though it will sound like that in this post. I seek to know more, and this is simply one perspective that has been taken in a long series of them in my ever-shifting and ever-so-mutable view of the world.)
Would you believe me if I told you that the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ is a metaphor — or at least a reflection — of the pattern of the physical Sun?
That his crucifixion as he died is symbolized by a Sunset?
That his death is the time the Sun is down?
That his resurrection is when the Sun comes back up?
That his 12 disciples are the 13 (typo but I’ll leave it for Opiuchus, yes this is a hill I’ll die on) zodiac signs?
That the Earth is the Virgin mother of the Son? For her womb is where the Son of Man is given form/is born? The perfectly fertile — or virgin — soil for the Sun (Father) to be born into the physical Son?
The mystery and paradox of the Immaculate Conception/Virgin Birth is the mystery of how from Sun comes Life on Earth. Without any physical contact between the Sun and Earth, life springs, like the Immaculate Conception to the Sacred Virgin (that, at the risk of sounding redundant, came without sex).
Jesus’s “heart on fire” is actually representative of the literal Solar Sun that “blazes” for us.
Him “dying for us so that we may live” is because without his — the Sun’s — death every night into Night — the Sunset — we would be burnt alive by the consistent exposure. His Life gives us Life, but he must also Die repeatedly as well in order to Save us (from Himself)!
This is the Pattern of the Sun, the supreme Truth.
“It ascends from earth to heaven and again descends to earth and receives the forces of things above and below” (an excerpt directly from the Emerald Tablet, or Emerald Formula, directly revealed from Thrice Greatest Hermes as the Operation of the Sun.) The previous quote literally is the Sun rising and falling in the Sky — repeatedly (as the passage of time).
Why do you think the Emerald Tablet finishes as saying “It is accomplished, what I have told of the operation of the Sun”? Everything it describes is the recipe for how to create perfected Matter out of Light — how Pure Illumination and Light, the literal Sun itself, the literal SOURCE of all that exists is turned into the living Son, perfected Man, symbolized in the story of Christ — or the Philosophers Stone — the operation of the Sun. It is the universal cookbook to not only create man, but to perfect it, from Pure Light — aka literal sunlight — into physical incarnation.
All of the ingredients in the Emerald Formula show us exactly what happens to turn Light into Form, Sun (Light) into Son (perfectly incarnate perfect Light).
The Perfected Formula creates the Perfected Man.
Christ is said to be the exact same as his Father — Father and Son are the same — because the living Christ is the perfectly incarnated perfectly embodied physical Sun. The perfectly embodied spiritual Sun.
The Sun being the literal, physical source of all Light for us cannot be overlooked. It is said that what is Below perfectly reflects that which is Above. Therefore, the light of everything in the physical world should reveal to us the spiritual Light of Everything. Meaning, the Literal Source. The Light itself. The physical Sun, and it’s characteristics in how we relate to it, should describe to us our relationship with the spiritual Father (spiritual Sun).
The literal fact that, if it were day all the time, we would perish, is a literal reminder that light and dark is truly needed for existence. The yin-yang of light/dark is a core component of life, and it’s core ingredient.
Original sin — or the idea that humans are innately flawed and possessed of an evil side — can be represented by the idea that we cannot endure the Sun’s literal, physical light all the time. To convert this statement from terms of the Below, or it’s physical manifestation, into the Above, or it’s origins in Spirit, we cannot fully endure God’s Light without dying. The function of the darkness is separateness — without the separation, there is no I, and thus there is no Self separate from God. Not only can our bodies not fully endure the Source of all Light, but our souls cannot fully endure the Source of all Light without dying — or immersion back to Source. The “defined lines” creating an Other is the darkness. And, because our survival — or existence as an other from God — is depended upon these lines of separation, it can be thus inferred that our existence as spiritual beings is also dependent on darkness itself.
Because of our form (our literal physical form) the Sun must die every night, or set,in order for us to survive — the Christ who died (dies) so that we can live. In that sense, part of our lifeblood is the darkness — we cannot live without his death, spiritually — through the metaphorical “dark lines of separation” (symbolized by the Fall of Man or creation of the Mind — this is why Mercury can be symbolized by the serpent) that mark us as separate identities from Source (also why ego is considered “sinful”) — nor physically, through the Sun setting and allowing us to cool off and remain alive.
Mercury is often times symbolized by a serpent, and represents knowledge itself. Do you see where I’m going with this? Mercury is the serpent in the garden that tempts man to eat from the tree of knowledge and leads to the Fall. This is symbolized by Mercury being the first planet from the Sun — the first physical incarnation or “fall,” or corruption — from pure Light. Because Mercury comes first in the order of the planets, Mercury is the first “step” away from pure Light and into Darkness (sometimes known as “evil” but not always). However, it is also the closest physical reality can get to the Light of the Sun, the physical body that contains the Light the most.
Each of the celestial bodies and elements thus are secret ingredients — the perfect cocktail to create Humanity, the sum total of the Cosmos, or the Philosophers Stone. Too much Sun, we can’t keep human life going — too little, it dies. Humanity is the perfect balance of all the spiritual elements — Light, Dark, Father, Mother, Heat, Cold, Yin, Yang.
This is why it is said that opposites are needed to create Life. Without Father — or heat — no primeval spark is created. Without Mother — or cold — there is no Petri dish for life to take shape. Without cold, we cannot define heat (and vice versa). The Son is what is created between those two principles, the living reconciliation of opposites. Humanity is thus the living Rebis and coincidencia oppositorum.
The Ankh being the symbol of life is because through his death, we experience life. The loop at the top of the cross makes the ankh — the head of the crucified one. This symbolizes life because there is no physical life without the Sun — or Son/Christ — setting every night — or dying/being Crucified at Sunset.
Squinting my eyes as the light of the world blinds me, I step forward. The sand crunches as I introduce my feet. The heat of the Sun is negated by the brisk ocean breeze, and yet the cold of the wind is negated by the soothing warmth of the sand. The spirit of the wind lovingly grabs and caresses my wrists with its cool tendrils and gently guides me to Mother Ocean. In sharp contrast with the soft wind, a great crash startles me, and the saline solution of the ocean races towards me in a speedy motion. I inhale sharply as the water assaults me. The smell of salt simultaneously reels me into my ancient past, grounds me into the divinity of the present, and launches me decades into my future. I was born here — I am here — I will die here. Head and heart first, I dive in bravely in an act of love and devotion for the endless ocean that heals me like a potion. 1 – 2 – 3 – CLEAR! — her cold shocks and defibrillates my heart back to life. I find peace knowing that I am only a piece of the endless Vitamin Sea that extends as far as the eye can see.
I intend on making this website a little bit more like a journal or notebook. I want an outlet, and whether or not the entries are refined and poetic no longer matters as much to me.
I’d like to write a story about something that recently happened to me.
About a week ago, I microdosed psychedelic mushrooms. At least, that was the intent: what actually ended up happening was quite an intense trip, complete with all the works: fearing for my sanity, going through intense emotional upheaval, and, in case I haven’t mentioned it already, fearing for my fucking sanity.
The trip was sorrowful. It felt like I was mourning for the sanity that I never had. The feeling was like living an entire life lost at sea and desperately craving land, but knowing you’ll never have it. It felt like desperately craving something solid to hold onto, but being condemned to a life of nebulousness and confusion, all at the mercy of the hand of God. It felt like being stuck in a hell loop of setting sail in a boat on a turbulent sea against my will as I left behind all of my loved ones who watched from land. A living nightmare. My reality being a nightmare.
And yet, something there felt saner than sane. In the insanity was a greater form of sanity. Somehow, the nonlinear reality had an underlying linearity more linear than the former linear reality. In the insanity, knowing; in the sanity, delusion.
I keep seeing in my mind’s eye Hawking in his film as he slowly faded into sickness, yet progressed as a luminary in the realm of physics. A young man with a gift that allowed for a visionary mind, slowly becoming more unable to cope with physical reality on his own as his body betrayed him. He embarked into higher realities and new frontiers of astonishing truth and illumination with the vehicle of his mind; all the while, his physical vehicle degraded.
Consciously or unconsciously, I guess I always saw myself as a savant in some type of way. At the beginning of my awakening, a symbol kept getting produced by the fornication of my conscious and unconscious minds: the autistic man who could take a relatively short helicopter ride over a city, then draw it all with incredible, seemingly-inhuman accuracy by memory on a wall hours later. The idea is of being a person with critical deficiencies in one area — so deficient as to tremendously reduce one’s ability to function in the social, cultural, and societal framework at hand — yet is light-years ahead in another. So ahead in whatever area this may be as a matter of fact, as to seem superhuman. Unable to cope with the mundane, yet able to achieve what seems impossible. Genius and inhuman in one way, yet so deficient in another as to be grounds for medical diagnosis, whether it be from the DSM-V due to mental illness, or a general physician’s handbook due to physical illness.
This is where I have sometimes seen my life heading. A new world dawns on me, and as much as I have tried to still function in the old one and grasp for some solid foundation, all it does is disintegrate into sand in my hand and slip through my fingers.
How long can a terminally ill patient hold on to life, and delay the inevitable death that lays before them? When exactly are they supposed to let go? I do not want to die, and yet paradoxically, to die in this way seems to be the only way I can truly live.
That is the life path of the Pisces, isn’t it? Of the Neptunian? A sacrifice must be made in order to give life to another. Which life will I choose? Spirit or matter? It is either the desire of the fish who desires to swim back Home and desires Spirit, or the desire of the carnal, worldly fish who desires the artifice of the physical realm. Neither desire can be really, truly satisfied without letting the other die. To paraphrase what the great teacher known as Christ once said, we cannot have two masters. No sheep can follow two shepherds at the same time.
How difficult a choice it is when choosing to follow the true master means living as, or at least feeling like, a pariah. How difficult a choice it is when letting one fish die means dying to who your loved ones knew you as.
Anyway, I’ve gotten incredibly ahead of myself.
As I said, I truly feared for my sanity during the trip. And, in this time period of about a week since the trip, I’ve felt incredible unstable. To the point where things have felt truly shadowy, as if I was approaching a precipice with a deep, deep dark abyss on the other side. It felt like the onset of true instability that had the capability of being the onset of a severe mental breakdown if things did not change — and fast.
And then I had the dream.
I do not remember how it started. All I remember is how it ended — which is all that is really important.
Imagine the dream as someone explaining to me a description of somebody’s life in the form of a series of metaphorical stages representing their evolution through life.
I remember the last two stages only, and they were something as follows:
“And then he became as tall as a giant. He was massive, like a tower, big, incredible.”
This felt like great success or notoriety. Great power, status, becoming larger than life.
Next, they said, “But then he slowly began to collapse in on himself. He kept folding in on himself, until one day, he vanished.”
I asked what caused his vanishing.
Clear as day, and firm, grim, and jarring, I heard “pancreatic cancer.”
Then, as I woke up, and fully came to, I felt a horrible stabbing pain and vibrating sensation in my upper right abdomen. I waited maybe 30 seconds for it to subside, which it eventually fully did, and then went and brought my cats into my room — because holy shit was that scary.
I was uncertain about what it meant. For the next few days, I struggled with different possible meanings, and different possible people that it could represent.
However, this morning, I woke up around 4 am full of energy. I halved my dosage of Ashwaghanda last night, which had been helping me sleep, so this was not an unexpected reaction. I tried to go back to sleep for some time, but had no success, so I eventually gave up and decided to listen to music.
I looked up a specific song on Spotify that for some reason was playing in my head. I found it, and played it, but saw that a few songs under it on the search list was a song by Syd Barrett.
The name was familiar. Wasn’t that the guy in Pink Floyd who went crazy from taking too much acid? To double check, I looked up the name. Sure enough, it was him. I didn’t know he ever released his own music, so I decided to give it a play. It was called No Man’s Land, the same name as the song I had originally looked up.
While I listened to the pleasant strumming of his guitar and resonance of his voice, I read up online about the guy’s story out of curiosity.
Then, I read something that gave me a shock.
Mentioned under Syd Barrett’s cause of death was — you guessed it — pancreatic cancer.
The rest is history. Many of you know his story. As it was put in Shine On You Crazy Diamond, he “reached for the secret too soon.”
Figuratively, he became as big as a giant. Both in a societal manner, due to his great success and fame, and in a cosmic manner, due to his psychedelic adventures that allowed for immersion with the cosmos. I’ve heard it said that we are as small as the things that annoy us, but we are also as large as the things that we adore and believe in. Through his excessive use of LSD, his perception expanded, and thus, so did he. He began to immerse into the cosmos, figuratively becoming larger, or giant, in size.
Now, the great expansiveness that psychedelic drugs provide can certainly be addicting and can definitely be unhealthy. There is nothing wrong with reaching cosmic consciousness using psychedelics, but there are healthy and unhealthy ways to go about it. Syd didn’t do it in a healthy way — at all. It is said that meditation is like climbing the mountain of enlightenment, and psychedelics are like a temporary helicopter ride up there. And clearly, for some, the mind is not prepared to comprehend and balance what there is to be seen. It is reported that he took obscene amounts of acid, both in terms of frequency and dosage, and his mind buckled under the pressure.
So, he began to collapse… he began to fold in on himself.
From his status as a larger-than-life — or giant — rockstar, he eventually deteriorated into catatonia, and, becoming, *ahem*, less than functional, he had to leave the band. He became a recluse, becoming smaller in size, until he disappeared from the public eye.
And then, he finally died — or vanished — from pancreatic cancer.
…
Spirit, the warning is clear, and I thank you for it. His tale will certainly serve as caution for me. I am not invincible, and psychedelic drugs are incredibly potent. If I wish to reach the top of the mountain of enlightenment, I must climb it — not take a helicopter ride up.
Psychedelic medicine does not seem to serve me at this point in time. I will not collapse. I will not fold into myself. I will be responsible. I will stay sturdy. I will be discerning and wise. I will take things slow.
He was just a boy when he knew he was special. Different. That he wanted more.
That marked the beginning of his dark night.
For, from that moment on, for the rest of his adolescence into his early adulthood, there would be a battle — internal and external — between his truth and their lies.
For the rest of his life, he would be in a fight with their chains. Born a warrior, there was no other choice. The true desires of his heart were in direct conflict with what they wanted of him.
And he would try to satisfy them. For so long.
Until the pain grew too much to bear.
He wanted off of this prison bus.
He wanted out of this society and its lies.
He wanted to go. To leave. To disappear.
And so began the plans.
The plans to leave. To find truth, anywhere it might be.
He just knew it wasn’t here. In this country. In its rings.
The ship was sinking, and he needed on another. He almost stayed in the water and allowed himself to dissolve into oblivion forever.
He wanted them to believe in him.
Would they?
Or would the cord need to be cut forever?
He wanted to leave them behind. To leave humanity behind in its brokenness. To completely embrace the divine.
…
I can’t live in this society anymore. I need to move away forever. To know more. To see more. To live life big. Without their limitations.
He wanted to break free from their chains. Most of all, he wanted her blessing. But she was the one most keen on holding his chains.
But she was only delaying the inevitable.
See, we always knew it was going to come to this. We’ve tried to resist the truth, to blind ourselves to it, but we always knew this was to happen. There was never a way I was going to make it in this world. I was always meant for something more.
We can keep delaying the inevitable, or you can let me fly. Let me heal.
The call of the divine is too strong. I cannot remain here much longer. It’s time for me to go. Let me fly, let me be free.
I am meant for so much more. This society cannot hold me. This prison cell. The monotony, the routine, the lifelessness. Send me away. Send me to a place where they live in spirit. Where they are healthy. Send me away from the sickness and to a place of health and freedom.
Send me to a place where I can connect with the Earth. Where I can connect with its rhythms. Where I can be pure of heart, and live with the others pure of heart. Where I can connect with the cosmos in an unlimited way. Where I can connect with myself in an unlimited way. Where mother Gaia radiates her endless love.
Take me away from the falsehood. Take me away from ego. Take me away from these soiled sheets. Let me sleep on the dirt if it means being away from here, they’re cleaner than your lavender-scented-detergent-washed, stupid motherfucking sheets.
Bury me alive if you have to. You already have.
Take me away from here. Let me live. Let me come back to life. I cannot survive here. This world is not for me.
Give me liberty, or give me death. Give me truth, or give me death. Give me life, or give me death.
Give me love.
It’s not here to be given to me.
That is why I must go.
This place does not have what I need.
See, what I need is not something tangible.
How dare you demand I make my living here when we know man shall not live by bread alone?
What I need is not physical. I do not need material wealth and abundance. I seek food for the spirit. I am starving.
My body is engorged, bloated, stuffed to the brim by pint after pint of ice cream but my spirit is starving, my mind running races on a hamster wheel.
THE CLOSET MYSTIC 