The Awakening # 3

Read The Awakening, and
The Awakening #2 first.

Yesterday's questioning about the superstitions I have placed so much faith in for the past 20 years threw me into total turmoil. If all these beliefs have just been folly, then what is left?

I took the Pythagorean Tarot out of the magic black box, and relooked at the 6 cards that had been chosen last year. I remember the day well. July last year sitting naked in front of a roaring ceremonial fire. I knew the importance of ritual.

I was planning to write a post about the messages that it had given me back then, and all of the profound signs that have confirmed the message over the past few months. Above you will find the pivotal 4th card that presented itself to me - The Angel. I was gonna scan all the cards, post them on this blog and point out the symbolism.

But I can't. It's just too complex and would require at least 40 pages of explanantion. The unique meaning a person finds in a thing is shaped by that person's whole life experience and linked to a myriad of other significant life events. It cannot be conveyed to others. And maybe it's not meant to be; maybe personal meaning is meant to remain just that - personal.

The same powerful messages were still there in the cards. And it just rubbed in how wrong the message has proved. I felt a tweak of deep sadness. What is left? Where do we go once, as Nietzsche had said: "God is dead"? My personal God who has been talking to me and sending me all of these messages over the years.

Well I went to Nietzsche. Dived into my philosophy notes from 2 years ago. Maybe I would find refuge (as I have so often before) in the cool, rational halls of philosophy. For a few minutes I felt a surge of enthusiasm and vowed to complete my Masters. I could do it, just take off a few months next year...But then I realised, I'm just shedding one security blanket for another. Instead of burying my head in the sands of mysticism, I am rushing to stick it in the mud of philosophy. The time has come to FACE REALITY. LIVE LIFE.

The irony that I was sitting discovering that "God is Dead", on Easter Friday, the day of the crucifixion, did not go unnoticed. Easter has always been a time of turmoil for me. In 1992 I was hospitalised just after Easter. I had been windsurfing on the Saturday and on Easter Sunday I woke up with two deep round sores in either hand. Blisters from the windsurfing? Nah, holes from where the nails went. Stigmata, for sure. And later that week when my therapist drove me to the psychiatric ward, her name was Mary. Mother Mary.

But for me, there will not be a ressurection. "My God, my God...why hast thou forsaken me?" ( Y: hast thou forsaken me?) I've already accepted that my personal God, the one who has been sending me all these messages over the years, will not ressurect. Not on Sunday, not even on Wednesday. I am moving on. Instead of performing the last and final test that I said I was going to on Wednesday, I'm gonna QUIT SMOKING. I've been promising Miss L for ages.

I've been far to wrapped up in the world of thoughts, concepts and analysis, for far too long. Thinking, thinking, thinking....never doing.

What is left? For one - my body is left. I'm gonna start getting fit again. Get back in tune with my neglected body. Feel alive, not just in my head. Take pride in the discipline and dedication. A DISCIPLE OF DISCIPLINE. Which discipline? Just Discipline. Just DOING it.

Meditation is left too. I honestly believe that it is my daily meditation that has cleansed my mind and exposed these blindspots. Everyone thinks meidtation is about the mind. It is not. It is about the whole body. It is meditation which has put me back in touch with my body. Real tactile touch.

That's where i reckon I'm going now. For now...