D asked me to say to him out loud, “Yes I am a difficult person.” This was after I took Maya out into the field to play ball for two hours, hearing him say an hour and a half, but he said 45 mins, and I had left my phone behind and he was climbing the walls convinced I had lost Maya. In fact he had a frightful day with one bloody thing after another, I spilt codliver oil in the car, and he lost the car keys at home and panicked – I picked through the dustbin and he found them in the kitchen drawer. I am a difficult person and I find myself hard to live with. I didn’t like that very much, but it is true. It is a life-long battle inside my fractious personality, trying to limit damage when with others, i.e. not to do or say things chaotically, or increase my own tension by badgering, etc.
What a curious illusion this is!
I saw the truth … each of us, every single worthy human being is difficult for themselves or others to live with. Those whom I love are often irritating, overbearing or even downright scary. It is our elemental side; our vulnerability. This is how we are, and how life is. In daily life I search what I think is right, and get stressed when the words vanish, because in summation it isn’t. I am bullied and chivvied by my ethical ideal. When my vision clears, it is plain that the superego ideal doesn’t work; it has no power.
Though ethics are broad cosmic commands – the platonic streams of light in the river – they are not written in any obvious way in the sky. We have to rediscover the melody, and to improvise. The ethic rarely stabilizes as a plan. When interacting with others, it changes perspective with the light, and the desired action may turn out quite different.
This is because the ethical waveband plays a human instrument not in isolation, but as a developing social being – a keyboard or orchestra. The issue must interact and co-respond – the “finding” is not what I meant to find when my mind was closed. With new humility, receiving a more open perspective, I am chastened for the umpteenth time: I was a crusader wearing blinkers. I know nothing.
Let me try to grasp the way ethics are social, interactive, relational and creative.
Yes there are Dharmic cosmic strands of consciousness. But the business of being human is scratchy. The ethics are not dished up on a plate. A hen roams and scratches in the ground for the grain which drops out of her nether end as an egg. The henyard is an earthy mess with disturbed grass-shoots. Images interlink just now, of golden yoked egg, the planetary orbits around the Solar atom – and which came first, chicken or egg? – the elliptical miracle produced from that feathered backside, is found among some nettles or a nest of hay, and boiled for breakfast. Hen and egg are a great work without beginning, to which the cockerel appears incidental. The cockerel makes the louder noise, standing at dawn to lift his pinions and announce the sunrise: cock crow, YOD – and poor St Peter’s discovery that it had crowed three times, and he had forgotten the courage of his ethics. He had cringed, denied and slept while his Teacher awoke in the garden all night long. His courage was clouded by the self-preserving fears of his surface mind.
Yes, in myself, this happens daily – the waters are muddied, and I put myself on trial.
Who has the right to do that? Who is the judge?
An aspect of ethics is courage – the courage to remember and speak up for what the heart knows is true – the Sanatana Dharma or optimum way to grow at all levels. For those today in prison or under torture for freedom of thought and speech, any failure to protest their conscience is a far worse fate than physical suffering, electric shock or being murdered. For men and women whom regimes attempt to crush, the ethical imperative is simple. The lamp shines in them strong and clear. They speak.
As humans we are a process so incomplete – racially about eight years old in terms of infancy – that an ethical realisation should bring a daily, hourly practice of compassion for the way we know not what we do. I know not what I do. For give.
The intensive study of spiritual matters and platonic virtues leads straight into the field of life where I churn up mud and feel lost. This is the task of embodiment. Kabbalists say our embodied life on earth is the hard School where our work in the soul is applied. There is no evolution in the soul, unless we plough the physical field. Life on earth – with what it flings at us at every level – is a difficult training.
The manifold crisis today which humanity faces, is a progressive force for transformation in the collective soul.
The ethical waveband appears an eternal verity: but it is not static. It is implanted in the human psyche in order to grow and generate life through each small human. My evolution is a difficult imperative: a combat with failure. The failure is relative, and mostly imagined. Who is responsible? Whom do I try to serve? When I am out in the playground of my primary-school, how am I with my companions? A very early memory arises from village school age six: we sat in pairs back to back on the see-saw: I faced the middle: without thinking, I shifted further and further back and pushed the boy sitting behind me and facing outward off the plank, and onto the ground. When he got to his feet, his nose and mouth were bleeding gristle. Maybe my guilty thoughtlessness was planted there, for the image arises of its own accord now: trust the subconscious. On Her akashic scroll, all is recorded, all is synchronistically delivered.
Be holy, whole, well, sound. The philosophers’ Stone is the universal medicine. When Yesod and Tifareth – moon and sun – are One, I am EBN (hebrew for Stone) – child with father/mother.
“Never forget human is a social being, and the highest resonance of this is love. The lilies and roses in the Tarot Magician’s garden are symbols of knowledge and love. The hebrew number 53, EBN, Stone is the same which describes the Sun and the Garden by gematria. The red roses in the Magician’s garden are the completion of the Work of the Sun. Without love there is no fulfillment.
“Garden, Stone and Sun are the One Thing. The flowers are fed by the chemical elements of decomposed stone, and grow by the power of the sun. When we really know this, we cannot help loving our fellow humans: this is revolutionary. The highest piece of philosophy in nature is love. Skill in this comes from long practice.
We fail more than we succeed, but our small successes and breakthroughs are of homeopathic quantum.
(Adapted from Paul Foster Case)
I found in the Chaldean Oracle some pure alchemy: “For from the (YOD) Source, naught that’s imperfect spins or wheels … The soul must have measure, rhythm and perfection, to spin, circulate or throb with this Divine Principle. The Father/Mother does not sow fear, but pours forth persuasion … controls from within and not from without; controls by being, by living within, and not by constraining.“
Saturn approaching my natal Cheiron and square to natal ascendent and Saturn this year made me feel confined, anxious and unable to complete my tasks. Recognising this, relaxes it. This tension will be shaping my path – between Saturn’s butter-pats – until November. So go with the flow!
And now go within. Be within the field. What is here?
In a field of flowers, the long grass warms my bare feet, encircled with mountains and hills. Over the last twenty-odd years, love shed its turbulence into a deeper strata of acceptance. Do the beautiful. Go with Grace, one thing at a time. The strata of acceptance under the earth mirrors the ethical aurora borealis of a clear blue sky – Beriah. As above, so below: be joined!
Aquariel – an angel of the waters and of the air through the woods of life.
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