THE CLOSET MYSTIC

What defines a science? 

Oxford says that a science is “the systematic study of the structure and behaviour of the physical and natural world through observation and experiment.”

Many believe that we live in a purely linear, mechanistic universe. Therefore, something that is argued, is that a science must be linear, causal, and mechanistic. It must work like a machine; put in the value x, and you will get y. This is because those who believe that the universe abides by strict physical, mechanical laws, will choose sciences that reflect such a system. 

In other words, in a strictly linear universe, only strictly linear sciences are appropriate. If a science is a framework used to study and explain the universe, then it must reflect that universe. A non-linear science would not be used to explain a linear universe — a linear science would not be used to explain a non-linear universe. 

In a linear universe, a linear science would be appropriate. Conversely, in a non-linear universe, non-linear sciences would then be appropriate.

So, then, that begs the question: do we live in a purely linear, mechanistic universe? Can our universe be likened to a math equation, with strict order and logic?

The Hermetic axiom, As Above, So Below, says that the microcosm reflects the macrocosm. 

(I will add that this principle is not a “hippie-dippie” view. It is absolutely grounded in reality, and can be observed by anyone who cares to look. An obvious example of this principle: every child is a product of their parents. Anything created, will reflect the creator, from procreation to artistic creation.)

If As Above, So Below is true, then in studying the microcosm — we will focus on the human body — we can learn about the macrocosm — the universe. By studying the human brain and body, we can infer truths about the universe.

Splitting the brain into two basic hemispheres — the left, linear, causal, logical brain, and the right, non-linear, perhaps even non-causal, creative brain — we can say that our Universe has two aspects to it: the linear, and the non-linear. Because our brains do not work in a purely linear fashion, we can assume that the universe does not work in a purely linear fashion either. 

This leads us to another basic truth: that we live in a dualistic universe. The universe itself can always be reduced into two basic principles: masculine and feminine; light and dark; positive and negative; linear and non-linear. 

Because the human brain has two sides to it, it must be inferred that the universe also has two sides to it. What are these two sides? They can be called linearity, and non-linearity. 

This brings me to my point. How can we understand a dualistic universe with sciences that only use half of the story? In other words, in a universe with both yin and yang, we cannot use only yang to understand the entirety of the whole.

Mainstream science currently only has respect for the linear side of the universe. There is little representation for the non-linear aspect of life. As a matter of fact, it is met with mockery. The disrespect and disdain for the other side of the universe’s duality is, to me, a reflection of the masculine and feminine divide known as bigotry. The masculine side of life is the linear, logical side of life. This side of the duality believes it knows everything, and has a sense of superiority over the equally important non-linear reality. To rephrase what I said: mainstream science’s sneering at the non-linear sciences, including astrology, is a reflection of bigotry. The masculine (linear and logical, or mainstream science) has a disrespect for, and sense of superiority over, the feminine (non-linear and intuitive, such as astrology).

Moving forward from my previous point, and restating the whole, I will say that astrology’s value as a non-linear science is that if the universe were purely linear, we would need purely linear sciences; however, the universe is not exclusively linear, therefore, we do not need exclusively linear sciences.

What is Bigotry?

To begin, Love is opposite Hate —

Love is Union, things as One —

Hate is Separation, things Divided —

What causes Hate?

Fear causes Hate —

Hate is equivalent to Fear —

And, As Within, so Without —

So, with these things in mind, what then is bigotry?

Bigotry, is the specific divide of the Masculine against the Feminine.

Bigotry, then, is the specific FEAR of the Masculine against the Feminine.

The Masculine begins to fear the Feminine —

Why?

It fears the qualities of the Feminine —

It fears emotion, it fears vulnerability —

But it fears these qualities within themselves —

Men fear their OWN emotion, fear their OWN vulnerability, and therefore FEAR THEIR OWN FEMININE —

They fear it, so to protect themselves, they Hate it —

This is also called Toxic Masculinity —

And as withIN, so withOUT —

The way a man treats women, DIRECTLY reflects how he treats his OWN Feminine —

Men who are INternally separated from their own Feminine side, will be separated from the Feminine EXternally too —

These men may have girlfriends, and may have wives —

But they will not truly be connected to their partners.

Have compassion for the bigots, even in their hate —

They are the most emotionally starved —

Their hate and disrespect for the feminine,

Is only their hate and disrespect for themselves.

Men who were shamed for their own feminine side — for their own emotion, their own vulnerability — are the bigots.

They were TAUGHT to hate this core aspect of themselves —

And thus they were TAUGHT to hate this core aspect of others.

It is only because they hate THEMSELVES that they hate the other.

…All each of us needs is a little bit of warmth.

It’s okay to feel.

Your vulnerability is not weakness… it is beautiful.

As always, the only way to remedy Hate is with Love

Seeking from her the love that is mine to give myself

I seek from you 

What was mine

The gift had my name on it

But I could not accept it

I offer it to you

And I plead you

To give it back to me

Tell me I am worthy

Fight me

Argue with me

Convince me

The answer is simple, it is self-loathing. I do not feel like I am worthy of love. I seek the permission of others to give it to myself. The mistake was accepting their opinion in the first place. The mistake was believing I was ever not worthy.

But that is interpersonal love, is it not? We offer our hearts to others, and it is theirs to do what they wish with. And they are at liberty to infect us with their own diseases.

The point is — I hate myself. What does it mean to hate oneself? 

Well, what is hate?

Hate, is rejection. 

Love is union, and hate is rejected union. Hate is separation — love is conjunction. 

We can color this however else we’d like, with many different circumstances and situations, but this is the basic formula amongst each of them. 

So, then, what does it mean to hate oneself?

It means you, yourself, are fragmented into two. Broken. A piece of yourself asks for love, asks for union, but you are not willing to give it. Internal union is rejected.

You hate another aspect of yourself, for whatever reason. Maybe you fear it. Maybe it got you into trouble in the past. Maybe it feels too deeply. Maybe feeling itself is dangerous.

Maybe the others hated it. Maybe they ridiculed it. And that hurt, didn’t it? And you don’t like being hurt. So, you joined them. Rather than facing the pain of external schism, you let the disease in. Now you’re forever corrupted, mangled, cut in two, because the fear of being an outcast, outweighed the natural love you had for yourself.

So you cast this side of yourself into the corner. They sit there, head in their knees, in the shadows.

Every now and then, they come back out, asking for reconciliation. 

But the memory of what caused the schism in the first place keeps replaying. The fear hijacks your soul. You shout at them angrily, point your finger, spit flying, and get them back to the corner where they belong.

But the cycle does not end. Every time you bark them back into the corner, they get stronger. More persistent. They start to get angry too, and fight back.

How desperately are you willing to fight? Are you willing to die on this hill? Most do. 

Maybe sometimes, the other side wins. They get control back. And all of the pain they were forced to endure gushes out uncontrollably. Maybe that’s what insanity looks like.

How long will you go on like this? When will you learn to love yourself again?

Is there a cure for this disease? Can the crack be mended? 

Can the schism be closed, can the tear be sewed?

“How can you escape if you think you’re free?”

“If you think you’re free, then you can’t escape.”

“Let me tell you something, Mark.

“You humans — most of you — subscribe to this policy of an eye for an eye, of a life for a life, which is known throughout the universe for its stupidity. Even your Buddha and your Christ had very different ideas, and yet nobody’s paid much attention to them — not even your Buddhists, or your Christians.”

In the beginning, All was One.

Everything you know. Every single person, creature, object, or thing. 

Inside of this Oneness lied infinite potential. A single infinite spark, which had every single possibility, lying within.

Everything you’ve ever loved, everything you’ve ever hated. All your likes — all your dislikes. Everything you’ve ever known, and ever will know, all lying within this spark. The sum total of experience as we know it.

And then, the Oneness began to expand and divide itself. From one, came two. From two, a third. 

And so on…

Until eventually, it expanded itself infinitely into what we know.

…

Sounds like some woo-woo, hippie bullshit, right?

Silly you! I just explained the Big Bang Theory.

When kids are, ya know, kids, and these kids are, ya know, siblings, it’s quite common for them to, ya know, bicker. 

Without too much hyperbole, these kids — siblings — do not just bicker: many make it their personal goal to wreak as much havoc on the other sibling as possible each and every day. From dawn till dusk, it is war!

And even if it is not an intentional war that they embark on everyday, there are certainly at least many individual battles that blow up over petty reasons, very frequently. For example: I wanted the last chicken nugget from the platter, but you took it, therefore I will squeeze ketchup all over your hair. If there is no ketchup available, I will at least smack you over the head, and if I don’t draw blood, I will at least draw some tears! 

And then the adults, with the perspective of having grown through the same thing, look at these petty squabbles as “brotherly love” (or with whichever pronoun is appropriate). They understand the fighting to be normal — they are just growing up!

And surely, as they grow older, these same siblings, who used to be each other’s greatest tormentors — the very bane of each other’s existence — become best friends. It takes some longer than others, but eventually, their relationship evolves, and the love that binds them is unbreakable. 

…

Now, look at the hatred, war, and murder in this world. We look at it all, and we wonder… why? So much blood spilled, and lives torn apart, over what?

Instead of fighting each other for the last chicken nugget, we fight each other for the last drop of water, or for the last drop of oil, or for the last plot of land. Just like the siblings, we are at war with each other for things that, from a higher perspective, are small.

And yet, do we not simply need time to grow up, as siblings do, albeit on a larger scale?

Truthfully I tell you, the beings more advanced than us, look at us the same way as we look at young, bickering siblings. As parents would, they look at us, and they say, “They are learning; they are growing together.”

They understand that, as the siblings, once we “grow up,” we will become aware of the inseparable bond that ties us together. The coin will turn over, and what appeared as hate, will appear as love. Each one of us will be an irreplaceable part of each other’s heart, as happens with siblings once they grow up.

We bicker now, and wage war on each other every day… but we are just growing up.

To all of the suffering, hatred, and violence in the world, I look, and I say,

“Brotherly love.”

“What makes it worth it for you?”

“The shimmers of light that have shined from beyond the dark tunnel.

When you’re in a dark tunnel, and have not seen any light, you might not even know that you’re in a tunnel. You may not even know it has an end. But when you see the light shine, you know there is a direction to march in, and that the tunnel has an end.

So, marching towards that light is what makes it worth it. I know there is something to march towards, there is a goal in mind. There is light behind the darkness; therefore, why would I stay put? I must keep walking. ‘If you’re going through hell, keep going.’ Why would you stop in hell? In my case, I know that there is an end, as evidence of what I’ve been blessed to see and experience. That is all.”

“I really like that, yes… I think I agree completely.

How do you know what direction to go in, or is any direction productive, as long as you’re moving, in your opinion?”

“Hmmmm… once you find a source of light, keep following it. That’s all I can say.”

“I like that too.”

I have preliminarily called this “An Ode to Pluto,” however, given the nature of this subject, I would not be surprised if I have changed the title to something less… appreciative, by the time I have finished writing this. Therefore, if the title of this is not “An Ode to Pluto,” then you know what has happened!

I have chosen to write this due to the coalescence of several months of data coming together to form an increasingly clear picture within my mind. Said picture is paramount to our understanding of the nature of reality, and suffering itself.

Time for a brief playback of one of my favorite broken records/clichés: there exists a divide among us!

The divide is not societal — the divide is not political — the divide is not socio-political! This divide is the most macro of all known macro. This divide has spread into the microcosm, of course, but its origins appear to be as macro as it gets.

This divide is a collective birth trauma we all have — meaning, we enter this world with this rip. As a man I once knew said, “we were all born with broken wings.” It appears that this divide is a natural function of this world, or perhaps a natural law.

This law says, ‘make the one, into two. Let the whole, become unwhole.’

Where there was the singularity, came duality. A once perfect mirror, was broken into fragments. What was once the same, became the opposite. It was the beginning of the most tragic love story ever known to man, and the truest beginning, of the truest broken heart. From life, came death, and from union, came separation.

You see, this divide is not the all-too-familiar Red vs. Blue, nor Left vs. Right — this divide exists at the foundation of our existence, with its reflection permeating life as we know it. And this divide is symbolized by Pluto.

Pluto is the rip. Pluto represents corruption, death, and sex. Now, ask yourself: how is it that death and corruption are correlated with sex? Ask yourself: with the One broken, or corrupted, into Two through incarnation here, what would we call their attempt to bridge this divide? What would we call the unification of the opposites that exists here? What is the union of the primary opposites called?

Bingo. Sex is a very testament to the divide that exists here. Here, the One is split into Two. As long as they are Here, each fragmented aspect of the One will spend their lifetime unwhole. A lack of Wholeness is synonymous with suffering; therefore, each divided part of the One will spend their entire existence seeking the other half they were split from, in an effort to return into Wholeness. This, my friends, is what we know as love, and what we know as sex. What we know as “love” here, is but a momentary glimpse into the glory of the Union of Above, a faint memory of wholeness.

[Addition 2/8/2022: And the pleasure of sex is not pleasure at all; it is merely the alleviation of suffering. Pleasure is only defined by pain.]

This is why sex, death, and corruption are correlated: here, sex is our passionate yearning to return to Heavenly Union. The Physical is a mirror that reflects the Divine. Unfortunately, this mirror has a horrific crack through the middle, becoming not a reflection of the Above, but a broken reflection of the Above. The below is not the Above; it has its reflection, but not without a terrible, corrupted crack running through it. This reality is a corrupted reflection of the Above.

We, then, were all born with broken hearts. The question is, how does one truly mend a broken heart? This is the secret of the alchemists; the secret of eternal life.

I will leave this with a quote by none other than Jesus, along with some relevant symbols:

“When you make the two into one, and when you make the inner as the outer, and the upper as the lower, and when you make male and female into a single one, so that the male shall not be male, and the female shall not be female: . . . then you will enter [the kingdom].”

An ever-present aching in my soul…

What is the missing link? Why can’t I be consoled?

There is not a single thing here, that can fill this hole.

…can it? Is she out there?

Is there even such a thing, as a “one true pair?”

She calls out to me, and I call out to her.

I know my prayers will be answered, that is for sure.

My soul, it longs for something true.

I cannot ignore it by just “finding something else to do.”

Indeed, that is the reason why I am feeling so blue.

…would I even recognize it if I found it? Am I ready?

I do not know, and I do not care — I want it already.

I want it more and more, by each passing day —

But if it came, would it even stay?

See, this aching in my soul is so not simple.

Or perhaps it would all evaporate, only at the sight of her dimples.

See, I fear this ache cannot be resolved,

though perhaps a single glance is all it will take for it to be absolved.

I choose love — that I do swear.

I choose to keep my heart open, and that I do dare.

I choose all of this, in spite of my growing despair,

as I push on, and accumulate my wear and tear.

Will I find her? Is life even fair?

Such a thought does indeed give me a scare,

but I choose to push on — I simply cannot not care.

Are we already there?

Have I already found my maiden?

Or what if I missed her, on some night I stayed in?

I suppose in that case, I’ll have to keep her waitin’,

such a period of time that I truly do be hatin’….

Who knows, maybe I am gay! Was it Peyton?

Or is she my twin flame? Is it Jaidyn?

The name, it keeps on changin’,

But the chaotic desires of my heart, are forever remainin’.

To truly articulate the desires of my heart seems hopeless.

I do not know if anyone could ever come to know this.

My heart has forever been broken open.

With no hope of ever closin’.

A constant ache for my other half. 

A yearning so intense, all I can do is laugh.

In my ocean of desires, I am just a mere raft,

Trying to oar through these currents with a mere staff.

Resistance is futile,

and at the end of the day, all I can do is smile.

But who knows, maybe it will be worth my while.

When it comes to the aching of my soul, I will forever be a child.

I refuse to silence it, and I refuse to grow up.

My heart has the reigns, with no plans to slow up,

and all I can do is wake up each day, and show up.

I only hope that everything within doesn’t decide to spontaneously blow up.

It genuinely might — I can’t promise it won’t.

I do not know, perhaps I’m living off of time that was loaned.

Maybe I’m doomed, and perhaps I’ve always been.

There’s a good chance I was destined to end up in the loony bin.

But pardon me, I did not know that following my heart was a sin.

To me, that is the only way that I can win:

by marching to the beat of the drum that exists within.

I don’t know what else I can say — my existence is torture,

but only because the thing I refuse is forfeiture. 

I’m well off the trail, my friends. I am lost.

But honestly, isn’t that the starting point of living life as your own boss?

I will set myself free, and that is for a fact,

and even if the odds against me are stacked,

with myself I have made a pact,

that my life will be complete even if I leave the walls of our prison only cracked.