I am just recovering from one of my sugar crashes. It hit me rather quickly following emails I was writing. I lay down to read Aghora Vol. I, thinking I was tired, and found myself spiralling into the awful in-between state of unconscious-but-conscious, incapable of doing anything except feeling the extreme cold in my body. When I enter such crashes (as I call them), my thoughts get stuck circulating around the last few things I was considering; like water draining down a plug, the thoughts turn high-speed in a vortex deeper into my subconscious. Most often I am caught in conversations with work colleagues, or about household concerns, but today I was stuck on something I had written and the last few words of Aghora that I had read.
I had written to a friend about how I am struggling with the concept that some people just do not have the capacity to understand and embrace certain esoteric knowledge and concepts. In a world that tries to ensure equality on all levels for everyone and where any difference is laden with sub-clauses of how the difference makes them equally valid, equally ‘good’, equally … well, equal, it is a difficult subject area to discuss without sounding like a fascist. As in my post Fill the void with sensual pleasure I compared certain people to rats, that the level of their being was firmly entrenched in survival and distraction: food, sex, food, sex, entertainment. Firstly my comparison must be understood against the fact that I have a very great love of rats. My own rat is my cherished friend, and I have already spoken about how I tend his shrine to Karni-Mata in his role as her kabbas. His being may focus on animal urges, but his value as a spiritual being is evident. Also, I call to mind another comparison I made (in a post I can’t find!) about this path we walk and that sometimes we walk parallel paths and have company; sometimes we shout to the people behind (encouragement, directions or a plain ole Hallooo) and at other times we look to those ahead of us and gain our support and focus from them. But there are others even further back on the path who would not hear us if we shouted, and people much further ahead of us who are not even aware of our existence. This is not a value judgement, but a description of the different passages that sparks from a fire take as they ascend into the sky to join with the stars. Some extinguish as soon as they separate from the fire, othes make a valiant effort but are lost in the dark, while others take the solo flight holding the upper lights firmly in their sight.
And then my spiralling thoughts caught the energy of why I get so frustrated when I brush up against another’s fantasy … This is not because I am a Creature of Truth, somehow less susceptible to weaving a more palatable chimera around the unpalatable fact of my weaknesses that I face each day. This is personal to me: I have been the victim of certain people’s recreated ‘truths’, a mere player in their fictional story and as such I have a knee-jerk reaction to anything that exaggerates or belittles the way things really are. I have seen people recreate the past in a way that makes it bearable for them (thus denying admission of their role in their own and other people’s downfall – a bucking of responsibility, sugar-coating and icing over a mouldy, rotten, maggot-ridden cake); and I have seen people just plain lie to make themselves out to be more important, more connected, more more more … because they feel less less less. I understand the motivation. I have a certain compassion. But my own experience as a victim of others’ chimeras makes me hate untruth with a passion … imagine someone painting a chameleon neon-yellow, smothering its own natural ability to adapt and change colour because neon-yellow suits their tastes, desires and projected wants … I have washed off most of the paint, but I still get palpitations when I come too close to a paint pot …
So I understand the cause and the effect, and I know that in my practice there are certain chakra meditations that would be beneficial to me, to soften the jumped-up, shout-about-it, get-my-knickers-in-a-twist reaction that I have to seeing sugar-coated maggot cake. Sometimes blogging doesn’t help as I have an outlet and an audience for such vitriol. And here, in my sugar-addled state of mind I decided, Right, I must stop blogging then. But that’s just running away; and I don’t do that. This aspect of me is both a weakness (leading me to judge others too harshly and too quickly) and a strength, because it generates an intense passion and enthusiasm – I CARE about the truth. I see and understand the fear and panic that makes a person reach for more icing when they see yet another maggot wriggling through to the surface. And don’t think for a minute that I don’t have my own colony of maggots, I do, but I wear them honestly about my neck and in my hair. Occasionally they get in my eyes and I see wrong; in my ears and I hear wrong; in my mouth and I speak wrong. But I try, try, try to be aware of every goddamn maggot on me, to know them by name, as it were …
This is a weekend of uncovering for me. Yesterday as I mentioned in a previous post, I was told very nice but very challenging things about myself. This chipped a hole in my own self-perception. Later that evening I was looking through some old photos and I came across a card from a friend. The words she had written (maybe 4 years ago … perhaps longer) drove a wedge into the hole and split me apart releasing a dam of grief, recognition and understanding.
It’s exhausting at times continually brushing the maggots out of my face, seeing when an egg-sack births yet another maggot for me to name and acquaint myself with. But I would rather this than fake it. We are living corpses. The fact of our death is inevitable … more inevitable than our birth ever was. Eat or be eaten? Allow the maggots to consume you or be consumed? Isn’t there a third option? Know your maggots by name and maybe they will whisper it to you…
I was interested to hear in David Beth’s podcast about the concept of the Merciless Path. How willing are we to sacrifice the comfort of living like others to pursue our spirituality? What are our priorities? Is our spirituality a mere hobby, an addendum to the rest of our life? Or is it our life, prioritised above all others and above all things? Is our passion for the divine compulsive or merely permitted at convenient moments?
In separating from my partner last year, I made a very conscious step to follow the Merciless Path. From then on, everything was to move me along that path; even my translation work I view as a means to an end, a means to fund my study. I am also lucky enough to work from home, which means I can break from work to do whatever ritual is required at whatever time of day; a luxury that not many people have.
So a commitment has been made. Sometimes that feels enough. Most of the time it isn’t. In listening to David’s podcast I became very aware of how little I know, and how far I still have to go. A tiny part of me (the child) sighed and wanted to sit and sulk. The greater part of me felt inspired and eager to ‘get on with it then’.
There is a quote in Aghora Vol. I (Svoboda) that describes it well:
To be a guru you have to say, “I know and I can teach you.” But if I say that, well, I’m finished. I can never learn anything else. I have shut myself off from anything new. If I remain a student all my life, though. I will always be ready to learn new things.
Although the least of my aims is to be guru to anybody (I have been asked and always respond with a gentle ‘no’ – I am willing to be a friend and exchange mutual discoveries and learn alongside a person, but I am no teacher), I am still conscious of how easy it is to rest for too long in the limited knowledge we possess. There is always more. To be reminded of and excited by another’s passion for More is a great inspiration to study and practice. It is like being reminded of the horizon when we have spent too long looking at the path directly in front of our feet; we have to be aware of the path directly in front to avoid stumbling and falling, but the horizon is the inspiration and reason for walking.
Another interesting point in David’s podcast was the questioning of our motivations in learning magick and in practising our spirituality. To really develop there needs to be a sharp blade of honesty applied to the fruit of our being – peel off the skin and see if the fruit beneath is truly edible, unripe or rotten. The pursuit of spirituality has been a priority for me since childhood, even before my introduction to monasticism, I knew that the relationship with god was the backbone to my life and always would be – I couldn’t conceive of a life that wasn’t focused around working towards divine union (something my dreams showed me at the time). And yet, even with such a focus it is easy to allow ego-motivated needs and weaknesses to infect our direction. I am starting to slowly uncover motivations that at times may drive me, but which ultimately steer me away from true divine union. This is a continual process of self-examination; a garden will always attract weeds, so the gardener must work at the soil while enjoying the fruits of her labours.
I have seen the level of work required in my spiritual garden, and I dare to see the potential there for growth. Time to get to work and get my hands very dirty.
© StarofSeshat 2009