Solstice

Posted: June 27, 2012 by Shadow in Personal, Philosophy, Shadowpath, Theology
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They say it’s summer.

The Solstice, the longest day of the year.  In many places in the Northern Hemisphere, that means its blazing hot, sun beating down unreasonably though seasonably.

Here, though, it’s a roll of the dice.

And the dice have come up “gloomy.”

I’m looking up at clouds in the sky; the air moist. The tourists who have come to celebrate a typical California summer are having conniption fits. My wife and I are supposed to be celebrating our 20th anniversary but she’s feeling ill and we’re both in the middle of a move and exhausted.

So I’m here thinking about illumination. I’m thinking about the hidden.

There’s a sun out there that, with the proper exposure, grants bountiful life. But unbounded, it scorches everything, laying waste to the world, changing everything.

Today what stands between the sun and an unbearably hot day is the shade of the clouds, a million million drops of water, fiercely clinging together against all odds, one face heated towards the heavens, the other cooling towards us.

I think of a million prayers going up to the source of illuminated knowlege, the hidden mystery of the universe. I think of the the passion of those please, the needs thrown out from the heart floating out into the universe. And then I think of the kind of person who could stand underneath those oblations, struggling to catch a glimpse of eternity, held in rapture by a soft glow buffeted by the soft sounds of others’ hushed voices.

So I’m here thinking about illumination. I’m thinking about the hidden.

They say it’s summer. The Solstice, the longest day of the year.

Here, though, it’s a roll of the dice.

Can you see what’s beyond the senses?

Even for just a minute?

Try.

And breathe…

City on the Edge

Posted: May 28, 2012 by Shadow in Los Angeles, Magick, Philosophy, Shadowpath
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I live in a city that people often claim to be shallow. And to be fair, it runs the gamut of just about every cliché you can think of. There’s an ocean of people here with false hopes, shattered dreams, mercurial moods, masterful misdirections.

But (you knew there was a ‘but’ coming, didn’t you?) the city is also rife with the power of trade and imagination.

Dig in deep and you’ll find a crazy quilt of cliques, steeped in their own lore, sifting out wisdom from the city, welcoming those who embrace their ways.

Magic flows just below the surface, coalesced willpower making miracles and brewing dreams that evoke possibility.

Sure, you have to mine for the good stuff but it’s there, hidden in my city’s vast language of symbols and mythology and hidden history.

And what a history it is!

Lizard people shaping the future of mankind from their hidden, ancient, underground cities; crippled devils walking the side roads granting wishes that could destroy generations; madmen and their followers hiding in caves waiting for a sign to unleash Armageddon upon unsuspecting entertainers;

World War II space invaders, UFOs hovering over the canyons, vampires on the Boardwalk, lights, cameras and action aplenty.  That’s my home.

It’s a place where even the landscape can’t stay solid, shaking everything up every now and again.

This is a city seeking to constantly be reborn, a city founded on initiation.

Initiation can be described as nothing more or less than the attempt at renewal, an alchemical achievement, the desire to shed that what you were before and take on a new form.  It’s shapeshifting for the soul.  And it never ends.

Yes.  Initiation never ends.

You never reach the place of full mastery, even if you’re anointed with titles and accolades.  You will never find the end to the quest for ultimate knowledge.  You will never experience unchanging bliss.

Because the universe is immense and immeasurable in contrast to ourselves.  It is ever changing, every moment alive, every breath ripe with possibility, changing in both time and space.

And the true master smiles at the disciples, holding the secret that isn’t a secret: that every day she is reborn and there is only the path and the journey.  Initiation and exploration.

What

An Amazing World

To be part of.

Letters from a Fool

Posted: May 16, 2012 by Shadow in Personal, Philosophy, Shadowpath, Theology
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Less than a decade old, I’m listening to a reverend speak reverently of the Masters of Ancient Wisdom.

The end of my second decade, I am a college boy, devouring the myths of a hundred cultures.

A father later in life, I try to distill decades of experience into stories for my children and their peers.

Through it all, I am a voice in the back of my head, an old man whispering the secrets of a lifetime to my younger selves. Ouroboros.

***

So…

Hello.

It’s good to meet you.

I’m sitting here in the heat of spring and I have to say, it’s absolutely beautiful outside.

The California sun is warm and shining; the Wind, an old friend of mine, is whipping the landscape into a delicate and artistic frenzy. Sky’s so blue it’s a reflection of the ocean stretching out from the shore.

I’m thinking about Initiations.

I’m thinking that in a world where we’ve got scientists by the barrelful, a global civilization (theoretically) based on rationality (well… at least that’s how it’s supposed to work!) and a dedicated supercollider primed to discover a “god-particle”, everybody’s still arguing over what’s real. Isn’t that strange?

An engineer will give you one set of specs for making the world work, a quantum physicist another.  Still, even as they differ, they’ll agree on one point: reality works, pretty good.  Good enough so that the rest of us can form conclusions on how to live our life with at least a little certainty that tomorrow the sun will rise and a fire will require a spark rather than spontaneously arising from some future action.

All said, that’s good enough for some folks, good enough for a lifetime, good enough for rational cultures to spring up, thrive for a time and then pass on.

Then there are some folks who need a touch more: a Mystery they can pray to, a sacred space they can hide all of their hopes and fears in, a ritual to share that feeling that out there, somewhere, something greater watches over them all. Like the followers of science, the worship of the Mystery is good enough for these folk, good enough for art to flourish and spring out into the world, overwhelming people with awe and emotion for just a time before moving on.

But…

There are also the others.

We are the people who aren’t content with the rational and aren’t only looking for a Mystery.

We’re the dreamers, the seekers, the explorers who want to get their hands into the gears and pull things apart. We want to open our eyes and our minds and gaze lovingly over the plans for this universe.  We want to bathe in the beauty and analyze the geometry of its shape. We want to find out what color palette was used and where it is on the spectrograph. We want to know, to quote Albert Einstein, “the mind of God.”

Everything else?  It’s just details.

More to come…

Yours in Seeking

Bill