Sufi Thread & Koestler’s Paradox

Here is a long and wandering Sunday post, in two parts.  The first part is a twirl of Sufi lambswool, followed by two of Alan Jacobs’ poems.  In the second part I dig up some ideas on language, from Arthur Koestler’s Act of Creation, which have inspired me.


Body tree Tao

Body tree Tao


25 May 2014   – Thoughts on Sufi 

In the sacred battle, Imam Ali raised his sword to slay his enemy. At that moment the enemy spat in his face. Seeing his own anger, Ali sheathed his sword. It was against the law to kill when moved by the blind emotion of rage. Ali said, “My real enemy is the anger itself, and this I must meet with clarity: a path of love.”

And we have to receive the truth of this, as it is. No sword can slay it.

And so, consciousness within the emotion was stirred, and an ancient spiritual path bore fruit – Sufism.

Sufism is to Islam what Kabbalah is to orthodox Judaism, and Rosicrucean Alchemy is to the Christian faith – the concealed Revelation.   In the middle ages, Sufi masters and Jewish sages studied together and pooled their wisdom. It was a highly creative period in history. The disciplines of sacred geometry, alchemy and astrology were cross-fertilized, and inform us to this day.

Islamic geometry after Keith Critchlow

Islamic geometry after Keith Critchlow

In the 14th century, Christendom – then in full temporal power – began to persecute the Jews and Moslems, and to set them against each other.   Yet the three religions – Star, Cross and Crescent – share the root of Abraham … cross crescent

… and before Abraham was, I AM.

Orthodox religion is based on faith and the commandments.   It holds a society and its family systems together, on an organized ethical foundation. The religious concept is exteriorized into temples, churches and a priesthood “out there”. The follower seeks that guidance, protection and safe identity – a house of God. Each dominant religion fell into the crisis of worldly power, corruption and intolerance.   This is inevitable, with the everyday mind’s tendency to divide and rule, and to mount a crusade.   What is more powerful, or more possessive, than an idea?   What are the bloodiest wars fought over?

The esoteric or hidden way arises through direct revelation of essence.   It comes from “within”, and historically, the religious establishments fear and mistrust it. It lives at the margin of society. It prays and is creative for humanity, for it transcends the individual. This spiritual path encounters the same kind of crisis as the religious one – mental inflation. The personal ego may at any moment get hold of a spiritual voltage, get supercharged, and distort and exploit the truth for power and influence over other souls. There are enormous temptations and misunderstandings. The mystic fights a holy war with this tendency!

The psychological paradox is real, in each individual life.   What do I project “out there” and what do I receive “in here”? Why am I me, and not you, yet each of us throughout history, is the centre of all things, for ever, including dying? – most people run for dear life from this question!

No human being, however materialist or atheist, can escape or explain the quantum – the mystery – of his/her existence.   Most minds are more comfortable with putting the existential focus “out there”, into politics, management or belief (conventionally) – but a few are aware of it “from within” (which sets them apart).   Each of us navigates that interplay (“out there” versus “from within”) to a certain extent, because we all are human, and influence each other.   From paradox, life is born.

From the battlefield a way of light is born.   (See Bhagavad Gita Chapter 2).

What is paradox?   The word para means “beyond” or “to one side of”, and the word doxa means “the soul” or “the capacity to understand”.   We experience paradox in each collision of opposites, and the way is extraordinarily life-giving. Day/night. Grief/laughter.   Male/female. Sharp/soft.   Light/shadow. Death/birth. Summer/winter. There is no painting of humanity without God’s dark brush-strokes. There is no shadow without the light.   (See Koestler on The Logic of Laughter, PART 2 of this post).

What is paradox? Paradox is polarity.   Paradox is the battlefield of the inner life with the outer climate. Creation is also destruction. The acorn dies to become an oak. The egg dies to become an embryo, the seed to become a plant, the scholar dies to be born a sage.   The paradox is a catalyst. Human growth happens when a person cannot “explain” reality, but enters and surrenders to it.   What is surrender? A way of dancing.

Islamic patterns, after Critchlow

Islamic patterns, after Critchlow

The spiritual path seeks peace, because it is born from conflict.   A person on a spiritual path may discover it through the pain of life, for it opens into honesty and love. Realisation comes, with the acceptance that conflict and love are one and the same polarity.

The essence of conflict is peace.   There is no conflict in the coming in and the going out of the tide: there is an unbroken circling movement, like the breath.   (J.Krishnamurti).

Conflict suggests the opposing extremes to each side. And we experience conflict – stress – when our nature is loaded to excess.

The essence of conflict is the moving, fluid centre which is “balance”.

Yet we are creatures of conflict. Our atoms are those of the aeons of Earth through the conflict of fire and ice, eruption and downpour, moisture and the lightning flash, ocean and rock, and the fishes of Nature who eat each other, red in tooth and claw.   It is an enormous human challenge to be aware of the seeds of conflict within ourselves, and to awaken, through them.

Conflict is not “bad”. Conflict is the unbroken circling of Nature, of life through death.


The angels of God – or Source – are cosmic phenomena.   They may be subatomic conduits, intergalactic or in miniature. They are expressions of qualities in the universe.   They are functions, and they have no choice but to serve what they are. They cannot alter, for they are timeless.   Human beings have the in-born capacity to turn, to change and to grow, which is time.   This is because we have all seven chakras and are therefore earthed; we do time on earth.   The angels only have the upper four, and the animal kingdom only has the lower four. Only the human has the full spectrum.   (search Angels in

The angels are the same as the gods in the Hindu and Buddhist pantheon.   They use our hands and feet and gravity when we are willing.   They are pictured as winged beings. They are an interconnected cosmic intelligence, with special functions.   They join up the stars. The entire cosmos is Greater Mind.

solomon's seal tetrahedrons How to draw a five point star pentacle

A Kabbalist's view of universals

A Kabbalist’s view of universals

It is told that among the angels of God, Satan disagreed. Satan’s element is the glorious fiery one. He was Lucifer, the light bearer. When he too was ordained to defer to the human element, ADAMH, the clay, he rebelled; for fire is far superior and more subtle than wet old earth.

(NB: in Hebrew, ADM spells clay, and the H is HEH, the life-breath God/JHVH breathed into the clay.)

So Satan became the tempter of Providence. The Adam Eve seed of humanity rested in a timeless garden, in the upper worlds. Satan beguiled them with the fruit of knowledge, and they entered the dimension of time and space: the division of NOW into past and future: the labour and toil of the generative cycle, towards return to the Great Circle.   The descent is into Knowledge and full Consciousness.   At first they feel blind and driven. They were driven into sexual conflict and limitations.   They were desperate to reproduce, for they knew they would die.

Adam and Eve were of the Upper World which is paradise – a region of the mind which Kabbalists call Olam Yetzirah, the World of Formation.   To a large extent, we continue to live inside the formative world of our mind and the power of fixed ideas, and are not sufficiently earthed in our bodies.   That is why we as a species are at odds with our environment and with nature, and why we fall ill.   So the spiritual path – especially in the west – insists on developing our Earth centres along with the metaphysical focus, to receive in full, the word of God.

Our world is assymetrical – a movement towards completion. Nature is based on the ellipse rather than the perfect circle. The nucleus is weighted to one side of the ellipse or egg, and so there is cell division, birth, and the unbroken movement towards equilibrium.   In every part of nature and the animal kingdom and the human soul, there is the strife towards completion:  the heart’s systole, diastole, the tide:  this is Life.

gravatar rose egg

The Sufi path puts theory and theology into practice. The aim is to not only hear the Word, but embody it. There is a movement from the centre, like a flame.   It oscillates, it trembles a little to each side.   It has a pulse, a rhythm.   It grows like the spiral of branches around the stem of a tree. It becomes a dance. The gravitational core is this movement from stillness: stillness is soft and all-encompassing. It is moved from side to side; and fore and aft; and in every direction, like the rays of the Sun.   This is the sacred fire.

The path of love, through dance, song and the poet, stretches out to each side, embracing the unknown future, unconditionally.   It is a path of ecstasy.

solstice dervish

solstice dervish

The fluent centre reaches out, like branches from the tree in the breeze, embracing the future. Reality is present. The present contains the paradox of past and future, in a circle where they are One – the timeless present.

The future cannot be “seen” unless our “NOW” is so wide that we perceive the encircling landscape – past, present, future – from above.   This happens when the consciousness is raised to a higher and deeper level, like the bird of fire, the Phoenix.

The Masters in the sufi and other esoteric traditions, sustain this strata of human consciousness, and we as seers may access it, when our focus is raised to that plane.   It is a shared plane – an orbital (hierarchic) level, like the electron’s relation by number, to the nucleus.

We deal with what we carry from the past – our memory and the issues laid down, to re-enact. How do we integrate and let go the past?   By embracing the future in an unlimited way.   The marrying of my sense of past with my feeling of “future” is an eternal child – the present, the Now.   From this – like a wave travelling concentrically – our past transforms.   Our idea of the past transforms.

Our past is nourished on what we feed it, from the future: and thus it transforms.

Our past is a feature of the present. It is like looking down into a pool, the depth of the water. Our memory is a well, whence the stories we believe in, are told.   It is here and now, and being re-told.

The Wandering Fool by a well, 1988

The Wandering Fool by a well, 1988


The Sufi dance movement is like the Tao in ancient Chinese philosophy.   The Great Circle holds a moving point – the balance of Yin and Yang.   The same point is within the Sri Chakra Yantra lattice, in the Indian tradition, and in all mandalas, yantras and yogas.

67 The Sri Chakra Yantra

The Sufi dance movement oscillates into a kind of T’ai Chi (which centres the dantien, in the belly.)   In life, as we reach the limit in one situation, another is opened: as one breath ends, the next one is received.   “I open where I close” (J.K.Rowling). And so it is, from side to side.   So God is praised, like the way a blade of grass is stirred by the wind.

Tao Cycle, seasons

Tao Cycle, seasons


The Sufi shares with other hidden paths, the stem of unity, an open secret.   All religious and spiritual revelations converge to the simple source.   In the apex of a pyramid, the peak of a mountain, nothing divides the sky.   But down the sides, down the ridges, rivers and valleys, the Word gets divided into culturally separate entities who – unable to see the peak – consider themselves apart, and quarrel.   The power of the source revelation, fuels – alas – war and ignorance.

A tapestry or eastern carpet is woven on a loom.   Horizontally are sewn the colours, the patterns and the stories – the lambswool threads are dipped in strong dyes.   This is life.   But the core of the thread itself is white lambswool with no dye, vertical through the loom’s warp and weft.   This is the pure Sufi consciousness, through the colour spectrum.

The Sufis in the old days, were called “wool wearers”. They are persecuted by fundamentalists, who say they betray the faith.

turning dervish

turning dervish

There are denominations and sects within Sufism, but they follow Imam Ali in principle. Some call him God. Worshippers idealise an individual who stands before God.  But worship is a signal – five times daily, to unroll a sacred mat and let nothing but Heaven stand between.



I think Imam Ali the War Leader identified his anger and recognised its divinity, because it can be worked with. It is a seed of life.   I think he recognised the primal conflict in human nature, and embraced it – not by opposing it, but by accepting the movement of polar opposites. The dark with the light:  the Satanic with Allah.   (In Kabbalah, we call Satan the Tester – he has an essential role.) The climatic forces.

Whenever there is true paradox, and a meeting of opposites, there is ecstasy, a natural state.   It is like clapping hands, or like wave-currents in the sea which run together and break into white spray.   It is a condition in the mind which throws all questions open and no answers enclose them. It is the union and dissolving of past and future concepts in the Now.   It is the absence of separation.   Sages break out laughing when “it happens again”.   It is the natural way of life, the Buddha laughs, the tension breaks, and it opens to beyond the stars.   Who knows what will happen next?

Sufism is born timelessly within conflict, stress, opposition, war. Sufism was reborn with Ali’s vision, Mohammed’s right hand man.  A religious empire became established, but so within it grew the immortal Thread which ultimately collapses empires.

From the setting of things apart, to combat each other, Sufism breaks out into God’s laughter.   It draws the combatants together, and journeys into the human interior.  Sufism (the way I see it) re-members the transcendent Self, the awakening of consciousness in a moment of tribal or religious enmity.

lord siva on his tao

lord siva on his tao

Sufi Dervishes wore long moustaches.   In the olden days, a man when making a major promise or commitment, would pull out a hair of his moustache.


On Conflict and Paradox

These various threads need to be pulled together, to view Sufism’s root perception of conflict and paradox.

There is Self-enquiry. We become aware of naked feelings of anxiety and trauma, hearing and giving them room, instead of spinning off into who’s to blame or who did what, or I can’t help it.

What does the Sufi way offer?   The Sufi way – divested of whoever it wears – becomes conscious (perhaps in a great interior storm) and is in movement with it.   The Sufi way is a path of love.   It is non-resistant.   So I love you BECAUSE of what you said or did which annoyed me, because it is perfect to your unique being.   I love you for that; otherwise it is not love, it is a fantasy.

The path of love however, expands transpersonal. It is more like the unlimited flow and love of life as is: the force of creation.   It is universal like the force of gravity.   Irrepressibly, it moves to dance and sing and flower.   The pairs of opposites are lovers.   The hardships in the past, are marvels.   The shadows are a glory. Suffering is also laughter, and lightness of heart.   The poet cannot help drumming the strings.

The way of love opens to each side, a moving fluid centre.

Embracing future, Reality is present.

The Present includes the paradox of past and future.

Why does religious belief divide believers from non-believers?

Do we care? Or do we exploit?

What is the political block in human development?



A Note on the Firebird

The Phoenix lives and moves on inner meanings. When a refugee called Tariq arrived in UK, he lost his environment, ecology, social setting, friendly contacts, power connections, and his dominant male and spiritual role in general.

The body of the Phoenix, deprived of the meaningful texture to Tariq’s life, couldn’t exist. The body itself was burned and died.  He suffered a depression and took to his bed.

When Tariq learned – with great difficulty – to accept his position, and to let his wife do a nurse’s training and go out to work, new meanings entered his life and his Understanding. The body of the Firebird filled with life again, and lifted its wings.

These symbols cannot exist in isolation. They are interactive with all aspects of changing life, and the world. That is what gives them life. The humanities start to flow together, when Tariq connects in a fresh way with his environment and his family.   He adapts: his family thread is interwoven with the social warp and weft: and through this, with humanity at large.  His daughters go to university and achieve responsible positions in society.  He respects his wife in a new way as his equal, because she held the family together through the worst years. He becomes a skilled carpenter. He regains his centre of gravity, while grieving the culture he left behind.   He lives with his losses: his family values, grafted onto the new reality, thrive.

The Phoenix is self-created.   Tariq’s conditioned concept of the human family was altered.   This is survival.  I am moved by his story, and admire his courage.

Yazidi 2



 A Philosophical Poem:

Unseen Weaver, by Alan Jacobs

Here stands a loom of Time in duration,
born of Infinity, in consummation
with Life, ever void of time.
The sun and moon a shuttle upward climb,
weaving to and fro as night and day,
a splendid pageant, a colour play.

Strung on warp and weft of cosmic unity
the back of the vast, embroidered tapestry
derives from the formless One.
The face in every colour, radiates the Sun.
The tones reflect from archetypal light
unabsorbed … an unequalled sight.

Only what’s allowed by unseen hand
appears as moving panorama, a horizontal band,
a magic painting of the world.
Through it, each vertical thread is whirled
as Light without duality
unique, unparalleled, the Self Reality.

Coated by golden fleece and white angelic wool,
and dyed in deepest vat of destiny’s darkened pool …
does the holy cloth that’s woven with love
quarrel with his Weaver who beholds from above?

Rather, wrapped in warming cloak at rainbow’s end,
eternal pilgrim adores his Mighty Friend.

Alan Jacobs, April 1993

V4_1270 YES


Acrostic Poem

Analogy and metaphor are interwoven,
Criss crossing poet’s weft and warp.
Rigid tight are guiding strings, form and symmetry;
Over, around it broods the standpoint – truth.

Supreme silence invokes devotion.
There is time for speech and rhetoric
In verse framing the subtle play of thought
Catching threads into One tapestried splendour.

Perhaps you find this Work over ambitious
Or at best, a well intentioned foolish error.
Endeavour to follow the hero’s way –
Men, timid as mice and fearing failure, achieve no thing.

So the weaver tries his skill to make some useful cloth.

Alan Jacobs, early 1990s

beginning a sufi dance




Arthur Koestler on Humour and Creative Paradox
(from “The Act of Creation” 1964)

 Koestler begins by examining the paradox of humour and its relation to the paradox of creativity.

“L” (fig.1) is idea.   “M” (fig 2) is frame of reference.

1 Koestler diagram on humour paradox

In figure 2 two frames of reference intersect: M1 and M2.

2 Koestler diagram on humour paradox

Gallery – click on page to view 

… and so on.

“If (Koestler) “you strive hard enough to get to India, you are bound to get to some America or other. … For instance, the technician who set out to find a way to synchronise the rate of fire of a machine-gun with the revolutions of an air-screw, discovered an excellent way of imitating the lowing of a cow.”

(Einstein) “It seems to me that what you call full consciousness is a limit case which can never be fully accomplished. This seems to me connected with the fact called the narrowness of consciousness.”

(Lichtenberg) – “It (not ‘I’) thinks.”   Cancel Descartes “Cogito, ergo sum” !


On Language and Dance (1988, inspired by Koestler’s The Act of Creation)

The rhythm in the written language, its voice, determines its content and imagery. The melody should follow the feeling – not the other way round.

Language is an orchestra, not a solitary pipe on a Greek hillside.

When sensation comes to say – it should river the rhythm into its way of speaking. This often happens subconsciously. If language were all the same colour, however seductive, it would only be able to tell one story.

Polyphonic language – carrying many thematic levels – is not a matter of words, but of letting the rhythm break up into its various encounters and surprises of itself. Else I get bored with the same tune. I get bored with the same palette.

I like scientific language, which uses tools. And I like Koestler, who writes very well indeed. His phrasing falls into the mode of the imagery which comes up into it – sometimes staccato and rich like a jester. Then long, rich phrases, for mythology.   … …

Now, a metre can become so sugar sweet that it is a defense against the diversity of the orchestra. It becomes encysted. When my mind can prattle so easily and make all kinds of puns from my map, beware. Because that leads to self pity – a drone which the truth cannot get through.

Language can be like a rough, rough rock – and must, to throw rocks – so long as what comes out is seen. Language should not be too slick and Watteau’d. If it is grief, then break its heart. If it is sex, then pulse it. If it is a sea journey, then let the long (wine-dark) waves run into it.

So to write is like making music.

Before you play, you get a feel of the “dance”.   It moves inside you, it begins to oscillate. And so when the thoughts come, their initial pattern in word or sound is not that important. Get a feel of the dance or flavour of the fish which pushes it up, which ripples the deltas of awareness. Let that thing there, whatever it is, show you what its real speech is. Stand away from the surface propositions, the easy atomic concepts; throw them away. They have their uses, but not all of the time.

cornwall 2011 175


26 May 2014 – To Twine all this Together …

Language is society. Language is family. Language is relationship. Language is dance and song.   Language is receptivity.

Language is meaning.

Without language – interior, social or cultural – we are lost. Without language, we cannot connect.

Language is the worshipper’s pulse. It is the Sufi singer-dancer’s language with Allah/Ali, and the Taoist’s movement with the Chi.

Without language, without connection, I am refugee at the gate of an alien and apparently hostile language pattern.

I reach a crossroads.   I turn within the crossroads, to receive all directions.

Humour collides two frames of reference, the solemn and the droll, collapsing into mirth … and connecting through laughter – “the mind stops”.. (See Koestler’s fig.2)

Creativity is the collision of two frames of reference, the formal and the “out of bounds” which awakes the psyche in amazement, demolishing and healing a linear block.

Linear language constrains and dies.   Creative language releases and lets live.   As the creative energy ascends into the air, through release, the well is cleared for unimagined insights that lay in the deep.   Nature abhors a vacuum. Osmosis draws up moisture from the root, to the sun.   And the leaves come out.

This is language.

The rising Phoenix archetype is language – the language of interior connection and the capacity to recreate Life.   In Tariq’s resurrection, he allowed himself to die, and to be reborn. His wife Tazeen was able to give him that space, by taking responsibility for the family’s adaptation to its new home. She was a strong woman, and she took her opportunity. This allowed her husband to redevelop his role in the family.

Nobody achieves anything in isolation – not Tariq, and not Tazeen.   The strength of their relationship, and their love for their daughters, brought them through all the obstacles which their previous language could no longer surmount.

2 Tree tao




Aquariel – an angel of the waters and of the air through the woods of life.
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Mystery of Master R: Part 5 – Musical Moments


3 Master R


sketch of 1st violin, orchestra of age of enlightenment

sketch of 1st violin, orchestra of age of enlightenment

My posts with Master R are loosely interconnected;  often repetitive, as with musical themes.  Time stops, or circles its moving Sun in a spiral.


From my Journal, July 2003

What is our vessel?  the dew?  Is it like the camel to the needle’s eye?  To trust the Kingdom of Heaven is conscious choice.

The Dew is always here
and it never stops falling
a very fine mixture of everything in the universe now

do not break the Law by adulterating or mixing levels.
the manna is a subtle and ordinary nourishment …


Grail Tree of Life, Table Round

Grail Tree of Life, Table Round of the Companions of the Light

All is One.  The Holy One is not heavy handed, it falls with the lightest touch,  but where we are blind and deaf we run into heavy hands.    Aziluth – the World of Emanation – contains everything – we are given heavy or light touches as appropriate.  The Dove is the vessel.  Makom – the First Heaven – is The Place.


GALLERY  of Violin Sonata no.7 – click to view

(September 2013 – there are now some sites where Saint-Germain’s music is played and heard: contains a lot of information, a video and some recordings to download.  The Phoenix Ensemble in Germany (English translation  of this site supplied)  recorded all the sonatas on CD, and performed them in concert.)


Ten years ago – 29 July 2003 – Master of the Violin

There is a quantity of music by Comte de Saint Germain at the British Museum library.  Alan brought back seven violin sonatas with figured bass clef,  and he can get the BM people to search and copy the rest. Only a generation ago, I would have had to copy it all out myself by hand – as I’ve been doing till recently!   I trimmed the 37 A3 pages into A4 ringbinder size while listening to Berlioz’s exquisite Petite Messe Solemnelle;   the poignancy of a Great Soul incarnates “at least once every century”  (an extraordinary number of times, including early deaths) into human fragility… into the rose and thorns.

Then I started to play the music, much to Alan’s interest;  found a pair of minuets which sparkle gracefully.   My Maestro wrote all those notes, and I am now hearing and playing the sounds in his head.   Music is the direct speech.   Alan and I wondered whether anyone else has bothered to play them since.

The maestro wrote in the baroque form of the day, with figured bass/continuo to indicate the harmonies.  I play it on the piano, but it his might adapt interestingly to modern instrumentation

The maestro wrote in the baroque form of the day, with figured bass/continuo to indicate the harmonies.


I awoke into “500 years” mode.  I feel like 500 years is nothing – I dip into the fragile flower of incarnations through the scythe of earth’s rotations – the V sign of the Child.  I am at the moment simultaneously my own bodytime, and this other time and space, by which I dip down and up, to incarnate where educative.  In about 500 years from now, a Golden Age will be,  is opening.  This is in my veins.   Never forget this.

On my bike to tarot class, with Master R’s diamond melodies singing in my ears – I began to see or imagine him playing the violin –  to draw him thus,  like the Musicians in Rehearsal.   Something in the connection with Troy Leonard (who psyched the ‘overview’ in my life), however tenuous, energises His presence here, and the relationship.

FR violin 03 copy


Peter, violin sketch

This outline comes to mind – my father in about 1965. My love affair since childhood, with the man’s way of moving his arm and cultivating that sound across the strings.

“… so this, thy body, is the instrument whereon may be played the Song of Life.  For on this harp of ten thousand strings, the wind of the Spirit moveth ever, and sounds night and day, the harmonies of that Eternal Song.”

Master R, transcript on Malkuth, 1947


(2003) Wisdom of Alan Jacobs:

“Maya – our world – is restricted vision.   Whatever we perceive through our organs of cognition limits it, to name and form,  it is a narrow waveband.  In a tree it is the living process inside that tree which you don’t see, and which is connected to the whole universe, dependent on the Sun’s rays,  connected to the Absolute as a star in the milky way … (as through our lungs, organs and littlest branching vessels, the prana.)

The meaning of Exodus:   Escape from Egypt is liberation from bondage to an old tradition.  Crossing the Red Sea (passover, parting the waters) is when a distinction is understood between the Self and the nonSelf  (pure Consciousness and the mindbody).  The Children of Israel fail to become the Holy People when they worship the golden calf of materialism;  Moses gave them a literal teaching, with the esoteric hidden within it for the few.   Real faith is in the Unknown, the Invisible, the Divine, and not in life, which is under the law of pre-ordination.  Real faith unexpectedly changes conditions in unforeseen ways.   Faith awakens from sleep or is born again from spiritual death.”

At dinner, Alan’s cousin’s husband said America and Russia are both formed by robber barons.  The difference is that the American barons made America whereas the Russian ones bought Russia.  Alan said something very witty, but wouldn’t write it down, only tied a knot in his hanky, and has forgotten it.

Alan at chess with his grandson Jacob

Alan at chess with his grandson Jacob


Journal – 2 August 2003

Elder Brother, please give me the courage to stand up and be counted,  be truthful, and not condone distortion.  Please,  when such situation arises,  lend me your eagle wings,  for I do not consider I have adequately crossed this fiery step.   Or have I?   Let truth speak through my face where it is weak;  for the main obstacle is the imaginary “i-having-to“,  which meant gigantic efforts to squeak like a mouse.  Did you see that funny squirrel early this morning, perched on top of a fence-post outside and chattering and barking like a fox?  The wonderful thing about having someone like you,  rather than an embodied teacher parked in space and time,  is that to contact you is voluntary attunement,  for you are everywhere else as well.   Of course,  each to what is quintessentially right for her or him.

I would love it if a French reader can translate this for me:

Curieux scrutateur de la Nature entière,
J’ai connu du grand tout le principe et la fin.
J’ai vu l’or en puissance au fond de sa rivière
J’ai saisi sa matière et surpris son levain.

J’expliquai par quel art l’âme aux flancs d’une mère
Fait sa maison, l’emporte, et comment un pépin
Mis contre un grain de blé, sous l’humide poussière;
L’un plante et l’autre cep,  sont le pain et le vin.

Rien n’était, Dieu voulant, rien devint quelque chose,
J’en doutais, je cherchai sur quoi l’univers pose.
Rien gardait l’équilibre et servait de soutien.

Enfin avec le poids de l’éloge et du blâme
Je pesai l’éternel;  il appela mon âme:
Je mourrai, j’adorai, je ne savais plus rien.  


Is not the grape in this, Your violet light?


I intend to copy a few of Master R’s illustrations in his TRINOSOFIA for this series, together with some of the text.  I have an English translation with poor black and white reproductions. Here is a link to the facsimile of… where you can see his paintings or copies of them in colour, and read (in French) the inner journey in full.   It can be downloaded or printed out, for a fee.

Violin for cover


Excerpt from poem “Violin Redux” by Charlie Morris

“My head falls to the left
and seeks the warmth
of my own shoulder
the splendid weight is cradled there
and the person whose shoulder I share
knows me
better than anyone.”




Aquariel – an angel of the waters and of the air through the woods of life.

COPYRIGHT – All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2013. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address

Mystery of Master R – Part 2: Searching the Likeness


0 glyph of inner contact in class


In December 2002, I attended a Qabbalah class on “Interior Contacts”.  It was hosted by the Lotus Foundation, the home of my dear friend Genie, whom I met for the first time on that day.

The class teacher told us:  “In Beriah are the Magidim of the Tree’s Upper Face, or Masters.  Every School of the Soul has a connection with these.  Schools have ‘ray’ functions.  Your membership depends on what your ray resonance is. ”

He for instance, tried very hard to become a Freemason.  When finally initiated through a friend, he was prevented every time from going to meetings at Lodge by two hour flu, train strikes or whatever.  He realised that freemasonry was a stepping stone from the past, but no longer required.  Guidance only registers when you take it on board, inside.

He told a story about Paul Foster Case and his Magid, the Count Ragoczy (Saint-Germain) of Transsylvania, who phoned and met him in a hotel in New York, and about how Case and his wife and a student took dictation once a week through an ouija board, word by word;  and the EXTRAORDINARY QUALITY OF THAT TRANSMISSION – and its way of dry teasing.   Our teacher read aloud a few passages to us.  Case only had to turn his mind to any one aspect of the teaching, and it would open up.  He was told to set up a new wisdom School, and to move from the East coast to California.

(NB – this story was told a second time in the other Kabbalah group, five months later when I asked for verification – see previous post.) 

Now of course I was very excited to hear about Le Comte;  and our teacher had even brought along an 18th century portrait of him in his white wig and piercing deep eyes.  He stood it on the mantelpiece, in Genie’s big room.


18thC portrait of Master R.  It is signed by "A.Knapp".  The reproduction carries this information:  "It is generally suppoosed that this mysterious adept was born in 1710, but the Countess v.Gergy declared she had seen him during that year in Venice, and  he appeared to be between 45 and 50 years old at that time.  While the church register at Eckenforde contains a record of his death in 1784, it is known that he was seen upon several occasions subsequent to that date, having attended a Masonic conference in 1785, and having been recognised in Venice in 1788.  The last historical mention of the Comte was in 1822, at which time he was presumably on the eve of embarking for India."

18thC portrait of Master R. It is signed by “A.Knapp”. The reproduction carries this information: “… … It is generally supposed that this mysterious adept was born in 1710, but the Countess v.Gergy declared she had seen him during that year in Venice, and he appeared to be between 45 and 50 years old at that time. While the church register at Eckenforde contains a record of his death in 1784, it is known that he was seen upon several occasions subsequent to that date, having attended a Masonic conference in 1785, and having been recognised in Venice in 1788. The last historical mention of the Comte was in 1822, at which time he was presumably on the eve of embarking for India.” ~~~~ I have this picture in my home.  The class teacher generously gave it to me, a few months later.


During a class tea-break, I took a couple of quick sketches from this portrait.  My ‘magyar’ connection has an energy here!   I heard of St-Germain before, but only vaguely.  I hadn’t known he is behind the Alchemy I am studying.   Suddenly he came to life, and I was literally trembling :

2 master R, sketch 1


3 master R, sketch 2


From my Journal – 8 December 2002:

“Ragoczy is a big fish, a Great Master Magid of a School, not of individuals, but I am inspired by him and his shoal of fishes.  As soon as I got home last night, I drew him into my sketchbook – from the drawings and from memory – as best I could:

master R, sketch 3


“The Book of Tokens is by him, and so are the lessons of the Great Work, I guess.  Our teacher read to us some paragraphs which he has.  It is about evolution and the Scorpio force.   Can I reconstruct an essence of it?

“The thing is not genetic.  That is to say, it is not by genetic evolution: (in the 1930s and 40s when these transmissions were being taken down, the topic of genetic selective breeding was all the rage, as also with the Nazis.)    The natural genes haven’t got the radical composition.  The Scorpio force is the being born again during life, to serve the Great Work.  It is the alchemy of the individual lead into gold.  The sexual nature is irreversibly altered and refined.  LOVE, AND YOU SHALL KNOW.  It said that Love isn’t of anything or anyone;  it IS.

“Now as Love is the One Source, the current of it comes through the Count, because at the level of his consciousness, there are no separate individuals.  He’s the same as Ramana or anyone else it comes through, to stress the point.  Yet he oversees particular rays or gardens of the teaching.  That face in his portrait is only an interface function, to recognise him by.  The truth overflows any container.  Our personality and its distortions and insecurities is unaltered by Self-realisation, and yet the realisation is at its root.

“Most of us see love in terms of returns and partners.”  (But if one has loved deeply, without return, then it is branded in!)   “‘Love and you shall know.’  ‘The can-opener of the intellect is too dull to probe the secrets of the Heart of Life.

“Let the excitory sense be peace … I think for me to plod on with the revelations in ‘The Great Work’ is quite enough to go on with.  Unfortunately I couldn’t retain most of what was read out today, because my sense of re-cognition kept getting in the way.


GALLERY of early portraits, studies and sketches of Le Comte and companions. 
Drawings in this post are december 2002 – May 2003


“When invoking, consider – “Who is saying the Name through you?” (God speaking to God.)  … The Grail in an early morning impression, overflowed, and its white effulgence expanded concentrically all around it, penetrating everything, everything to become it.   This was encouraging, and I jumped out of bed after lying in the fountain for a bit.

“Practice looking at things STRAIGHTLY, without any feeling about them at all.  The feeling-stuff is what reinforces and defines ME.

“REFLECTING – Diminishing the sense of I, for a more accurate impession, I become less;  God becomes more.  How to diminish the small-i?  Change the mode of feeling …  the feeling-triad on the Tree, Yesod, Hod, Netzach.   Open it out with the conscious Sun, Tifareth, and the root to earth, Malkuth.

“George Eliot, Daniel Deronda page 407 – “I am lord of this moment’s change, and will charge it with my soul … … To be in a state of suspense, which was also one of emotive activity and scruple, was a favourite attitude of his conscience … … the passionate patience of genius.”

19a emblem

“Look into the dark texture pool of the soul.  Only look.  Only one problem, the I-importantce, or as Alan Jacobs would say, the schopenhaurian Will.  Do not allow any opinions to finish or foreclose.  They are all coloured by the I-importance, and both illusory and limiting.

“Overheard at Shul – preparations for Graham’s wedding – the words Wisdom and Understanding.  As Kabbalists we try to act with wisdom and understanding.”


GALLERY, including some pages of Master R/St-Germain’s music
for violin and harpsichord continuo (see previous post).



“… She perceived in a box near the stage, a countenance which at once, and like magic, produced on her mind an effect never to be analyzed nor forgotten.  It was one that awakened an indistinct haunting reminiscence, as if she had seen it in those daydreams she had been so wont from infancy to indulge.  She could not withdraw her gaze from that face, and as she gazed, the awe and coldness that had before seized her, vanished, like a mist from before the sun. 

“In the dark splendour of the eyes that met her own, there was indeed so much of gentle encouragement, of benign and compassionate admiration;  so much that warmed, and animated, and nerved;  that anyone – actor or creator – who has ever observed the effect that a single earnest and kindly look, in the crowd that is to be addressed and won, will produce upon his mind, may readily account for the sudden and inspiriting influence which the eye and smile of the stranger exercised upon the debutante. 

“And while the yet she gazed, and the glow returned to her heart, the stranger half rose, as if to recall the audience to a sense of the courtesy due to one so fair and young … 

” … Yet again, as she turned from the stage, she looked back involuntarily, and the stranger’s calm and half melancholy smile sunk into her heart – to live there – to be recalled with confused memories, half of pleasure and half of pain.”

From ‘Zanoni’ — a Novel by Lord Lytton
— London 1874


Polish the mundane … carve and polish the precious stones of Life, through night and day:  the Stone of the wise.





Aquariel – an angel of the waters and of the air through the woods of life.

COPYRIGHT – All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012-2013. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address



This piece for the spring equinox, on Solomon, complements my previous post about the Priestess, and the ongoing “Parvati themes” in janeadamsart.


Photo by British Everest expedition 1922

Photo by British Everest expedition 1922 … 16,000 feet

Head Lama, Rongbuk Monastery, 1922

Head Lama, Rongbuk Monastery, 1922


“Harbour the culture through chaos.  Conserve the culture through chaotic conditions.   The capacity to do so, is oasis.”  

I see Tibet behind Mount Everest, and also the shy bend of the River Torridge in North Devon, its swift mainstream, its quiet circling backwaters which observe.   I put a photo of it at the end of Parvati Waters Trees.

Solomon’s wisdom is in the mountains and sages of each place of time, as in the lilies of the field.  Before I discovered this aspect pattern in my birth chart, I had intuitively adopted the Seal of Solomon as my guiding Star and logos.

ja birth chart

My mandala:  something inherited:  a dedicated way.  My birth was painfully delayed (for my mother) until the moment when the Ascendent “earthed” a hexagonal concordance with the Nodes, Uranus opposite Venus, and the Part of Fortune.   Subjectively I was aware from earliest childhood, of beauty, and the microcosmic fact of Macrocosm.  The harmonic for me, is inescapable, and converges many old apprenticeships and skills.  It is transpersonal.  I view it objectively, and try to serve it well.


So:  capacity to conserve a culture, creates oasis.

The medieval monks in Europe conserved the culture through chaotic conditions – war, pillage, waste.  They kept their prayer and their libraries going.  These too got pillaged, but always resurfaced and carried on, maybe a century later.   In Tibet, the Rongbuk monastery is back in business.  What the monasteries truly have, is eternal and indestructible.  The Eternal Life rebirths, in the covers of a book or a body-mind.

modern rongbuk monastery,

modern rongbuk monastery, …  that, above the cloud, is the summit!


Perhaps I am an old illuminator of the manuscripts, sitting in a chilly stone library, like I so often sit in my chilly kitchen, tinkering along in the inward warmth, and rise stiff and cold.   Perhaps I receive the same cherishing that I gave to the old manuscripts and their lettering and their wisdom.   Perhaps I am tonsured, and even the Librarian:  the keys are in my belt, with my rosary.  The damp smell of old stone and vellum.   Scraping scratch of feathered pens.   Cold feet, always:  often, cold hands.  The Glory. Where am I?   Norway? France? North Germany?

kolbe rosary detail

kolbe rosary detail

In my soul rests a romantic residue of the monastic life, the gothic arch, the songs of prayer, male harmonies, brothers.  Were those happy lifetimes?  Fulfilled?  I know by hearsay that in monastic communities every individual petty misery is magnified.  I came into this birth with the warning:  “don’t be so selfish”.

Well, I suppose my feet are in sandals, and my robe is brown, and I love the Mountains which are the books of wisdom, eternally.  The Mountains erode the pages and stand as they are.  I know historyI know that the Knowledge returns from the flames of petty pyres and reoccupies the libraries, as fresh as a daisy.


On DNA racial analysis – human groups:  lineage, Levite, the colours in the stitches of Africa …. Solomon sent ships down the Red Sea – sailors went on land – mixture of genes …  beautiful Ethiopians?   Many are of Jewish origin.  Solomon’s bride is dark and comely – as was Parvati, Siva’s bride.

My friend Sarah who looks so English and sensible, researched and discovered her ancient African gene ancestry:  her privilege to find and be this body, today’s result (in progress) of countless converging lines of history – a hinterland.


Young bedouin - bin Ghabaisha, from photo by Thesiger

Young bedouin – bin Ghabaisha, from photo by Thesiger.  War and …

DNA is a physical web or template.  It sustains itself unceasingly, and does not change.   There is an interplay of physical and Karmic webs with the strands of the Spirit.  Slowly the soul merges with the Infantile in the womb – she may come from far away;  the earth root is tribal.  The soul has the flexibility of good and evil and selection.

Sarah notices distinct facial types of kindred spirit, as among musicians and singers:  their carriage or enthusiasm, their shared eccentricity.

(In “Prayer to the Moon” – ( look for “Animist Blog Carnival: The Shape of Time & Other Things”) – I found a 1980s video of Carl Sagan demonstrating the extraordinary flexibility and precision of DNA models, “light years” inside the depths of the cell … )

I enjoyed trying to play some Bach yesterday, piano – Allemandes and Sarabandes from the French and English suites … spell them out slowly.  They are very beautiful.

Arcanum 9 hermit ... and peace

Arcanum 9 hermit … and peace


Solomon Re-Membered

GEMATRIA is the “spelling”, letter by letter, of the Hebrew Alephbeis.   Each letter is a living spirit, a gesture, a hieroglyph of Hashem the holy One, for someone like myself, who can’t read Hebrew !  They each have numbers, which add up, expand and correspond universally.  Gematria, the science of numbers, is a gymnasium, extraordinarily profound.  It may tempt the monkey mind, a torrent of clever associations – a tasty Law of Correspondences.

But gematria, to live and build with, needs to be held for a long time on the tongue, and relished.

Hebrew for The Stars

The word Ha-KVKaBIM the Stars, is 103, the number of EBeN Ha-ADaM, Stone of Adam,

and of BoNAIM, the builders, masons (Essene word),

and of GNaN, to hedge about, protect, shield,

and of HVA Ha ELoHIM “He is God” ,

and of MaGeDVN, rendezvous, place of Armageddon or meeting,

and of MaGeNI, my shield.

These all have the mutual linking number 103, and are holy breaths.   The stars are the dust of Adam Qadmon.  They are strung together as desert sands, to build Sanctuary, and to fence the holy ground of God.  At  “armaggedon“,  place of meeting, rendezvous, they are my shield.

(Note that a similar word, Magid, means “inner teacher, enlightened spiritual guide.)

The miracle-bearing seed of the Royal House of David, is brought to Bethlehem the House of Bread.   The yeast is pounded down to rise:  meditation pounds it down.

“We must come to the Meggeden, and place of rendezvous.”   We must come to a holy place of meeting, with the Companions of the Light.   What is meditation but a repeated thought?  How simple it is.   Any thought, repeated enough, will solidify and manifest.   Sustained reflection on “what is true?” produces what appear to be miracles, and helps difficult relationships to unravel and deliver, in any plane of being, or history.

“Rendez-vous” means “Render yourself.”   This same root is Surrender:  to the indwelling Shekhinah, the Daughter of the Seven –  indeed the Daughter of Jerusalem who is dark and comely.   He makes an appointment with Her.  He seeks Her out, and to her faithful lover, Shekhinah unveils.” (Paul Foster Case)

It is the Song of Songs!

So I get to work.

The Occult doctrine is:  The Stone of Adam is the union of the Father Hokhmah with Tifareth the Son – a great Star surrounded by seven smaller stars.

Arcanum 17, Star

Arcanum 17, Star


The Bonaim, builders, share the secret doctrine, as did the Essenes.  The Builders of the Adytum disagree with Essenic celibacy, but concur with the Rosicrucean Manifesto that “our building, although one hundred thousand people had very nearly seen it, shall forever remain untouched, undestroyed and hidden in the wicked world.”


Paul Foster Case

Paul Foster Case


The pure teaching and practice of the Ageless Wisdom is not designed to be popular or to attract large numbers.  It is targeted.  It is the Adytum or Sanctuary in the third eye.  Paul Foster Case wrote, “In an unenlightened man it is in the same condition as the Temple at the time of David.  The materials are gathered, but cannot be erected into a temple by David, the warrior and man of blood.  They must wait for Solomon, whose name (Shalom) signifies “peaceful”.”

Then the Psalmist – his entire emotional spectrum in the Songs –  was the Shield for Solomon’s Song and Seal within.  Magendovid means “Shield of David” – for the Star itself is Solomon’s Seal.  David is “the Beloved”.  In modern Israel, the Temple – except in some communities, and in vistas far transcending politics – is relatively dormant.  The magendovid became a secular flag.  But the Covenant is in the air we breathe.

“Solomon comes down to us largely as allegoryHis name is the rising Sun:  SOL OM ON – Latin, Sanskrit, Egytian.  Each syllable and the triad which combines them, symbolises Tifareth.”

 (Paul Foster Case)

Solomon's Cube, Emblem 6

Solomon’s Cube, Emblem 6

The Covenant, the Shekhinah, is placed in a Cubical room.  This is the flower at the heart of the Cube of Space, extending toutes directions:  JHVH and the weathercock.  Here and now, it awakens.   When the i-habit drops into the deep, the Covenant arises;  words or phrases trickle through the silence one by one.   This is the goal of spiritual exercise:  to grasp the Staff of peace.   The Staff is the Key to all history, and is common to each soul who finds it again.  The Staff is the collective cosmic Knowledge – Daat on the Tree of Life –  when Solomon’s Seal with the Cube it forms, AWAKES.   Where else can it awake, but here?

BOTA cube, star, weathercock

BOTA cube, star, weathercock

Before the Cube of Solomon awakes, tools to build the Temple lie on the ground waiting for instruction.  Their fascinating flat shapes in theory were and are seized and discussed by the learned of all cultures …  like the story of the Elephant and the Blind Orthodox Scholars … like  fragments of a mirror to put in a museum.

elephant story

But inside the invisible Elephant, a sage and student stroll towards sunrise … the interior light and conversation common to All:  the heart.

solis luna conjunctio

Isis gathered the scattered pieces of Osiris, to conceive from him their child Horus.  When the Seal of Solomon is re-membered, in a twinkling it catches fire and VOLUME, a burning bush in the heart:  eternal Life.  Then I know I am a little lens placed near the ground, for the Cosmic prayer of Natural State unceasing.   I am a raindrop.  I am given the moment shared, which hides the scholarly centuries.

Before it strikes, I don’t know what or where it is.  When it strikes, it is unsought, innocent and entire.  Sacred geometry enkindles it.   The magendovid protects and kindles my desire to let it pass on through my transparency.  When this movement sings in the temple of the soul, I am stepped beyond the petty reasonings, petitions or words of the world.  Here is source, like the language in the church roof in The Knight.   I, the smudgy creature on the floor, pick up the correlation and scribe it.  Scribing, as in monastic lifetimes, holds my attention here in sanctuary.

Nothing in all the world is as repetitive as the Ageless Wisdom in the blood:  the pulse.  The drum of the rain.

So many temple cloths and churches get torn down, to disclose again the Adored ADONAI, KABOD the Glory.

Whatever may happen for secular Israel, the beauty of its hidden communities flowering over rock, salt and sky, extends far and near, like sturdy ground-climbers, and will survive and prevail as the human core:  peace.  At the root of all Israel’s thought is SOLOMON, Shalom, the peace:  keep the peace, even through concrete walls.   In this broad picture, the secular combat is a house of cards – a delusion.  It rose and fell many times in the old and new testaments.

“The truth is:  war will not work.  The peace is not with the politicians, but in the heart of the people.  The peace is in the young of both sides, who are tired of the war.”   

I feel and smell the sweet wind, the milk and honey.   The delusion and mutual enemies are a curtain to go right through, to collapse:  it is but a second in the pause of God.   We Judaeans, Levites, Arabians, Kurds, Chaldeans and Yemenites are a people of Allah, a city of JHVH, and as the everyday mindset, mostly we forget this;  and when we forget, we suffer and are tense with an enemy around us, or busy/superstitious with our golden calves.

An ancient habitation of my soul has roots in the silver sand no wind removes – the tablets of the Mountain.  Back in 1971, travelling a tiny corner of the Sahara, I saw the Book of the Ages:  no human fancy, chemistry or invention is other than the strata of those rocks and dunes, and the faces and histories the wind draws.  I saw where ‘I’ begin, between grains of sand numberless as those of Ganges in the Buddha nature.

I would not have this understanding, had not my soul been Jewish, many, many times …  as well as being a scribe in Christendom, strange yet integral descendent of Judah:  the Word is love.   As a keeper of the Book, keep practicing.   Hold the flame, keep it burning.   It gathers its own.   ‘Gathertegen’ was my imaginary childhood city of God, where all the best toyshops were.   It is in the gentlest of the breath, the rising falling tide…  the immense horizon of the view.

When Moses came down the Mountain … when Yeshua went up the hill to pray …   In Moses the Holy One struck a match aflame and spoke:  “I AM THAT I AM – go and tell them that.”  In Yeshua the YOD is Father, his source:  for give.


Each morning when I write, I go up the hill to pray, not remembering why, until I am here.  The spark is Netzach, the friction of life.   In a motor, this generates the engine.   Netzach is Nature, the Tree of Life’s power base.   The friction of lightning and rain in Earth’s aeons, generated life.  The friction of male and female re-kindles the soul, a lamp in the womb for the soul.

Hebrew for shema israel


A very old man sings this, his movement of ancient joy and sorrow down the generations, eternally young.  It rocks his cradle and tefillin.  He told me that after his son was born, he ran naked into the salty sea to release his tribute to Shekhinah.

Egyptian AmunRa brought forth the cosmos from his penis, self pleasuring, God to behold God.   Which of the Schools dare to tell us, that God’s condition is joy?  Genesis is joy?  The tsim-tsum is joy?   Erotic, cosmic joy?   It is too intimate to be “believed in” !   (Messiaen’s music, sometimes:  Turangalila 4th mvt, and Turangalila 5th mvt, Joie du Sang des Etoiles.  Just try dancing out the cobwebs to this! /and see the Picasso drawing on the second one./ And if possible, get hold of Andre Previn’s 1978 recording of Turangalila.)

Every atom of the universe is joy.   This is our seed, our being.   Look at the vast numbers of ways this is misconstrued, abused, misinterpreted – such drab fantasies about virgins in paradise.

The propaganda develops when the fact of joy is forgotten:  when local intellect usurps and obscures the fact, it gradually fashions a sitting duck for its own invention – the self-destruct.

Yet everything both light and dark, is a version of God unto God.  What dogma closes and confines?  What opens, heals and liberates?

Arcana 6 Lovers - Version 2

Arcana 15 devil


If I lived the devil backwards, I see the point again.   This is what Arcanum 15 reveals and teaches:  dissolving the cramped effigy on his throne, into 6, the Lovers at Tifareth who give each other space and time.


Star Cross & Crescent

Star Cross & Crescent

Star, Cross and Crescent … let there be peace.

Peace and let there be peace to all beings, is a dry formula only, rattling on the sand, until stirred with the Water of Life – Yeshua turned away from the rabble and drew in the sand –  a reality of joy, a reality of Sangha.   This Sanskrit word for “Companions” is the same as the French for blood – Sang-Real:  the Grail, the bloodline, the carrier of the Sun:  SOL.

The Holy Grail is not a Cup or category.  The Holy Grail is a transmission, the bloodline, the Family of God, the JHVH.  It has no end;  and we see within, our Self.


Rudra Immerses

The myths of Siva-Rudra’s linga, thrust into the Water of Life, were sustained by yoga.  The moments of human ecstasy, eros and Light are brief in the daisy chain. The stems of the daisy chain are interwoven.  So we find out how to concentrate that continuity, the seed in the vessel.  Oak in the acorn.  The deep human learning curve is to forsake a “selfish” sexuality, to convert erotic feeling by metanoia, to the common good.   Tantra and alchemy have the practice, and it is the language all mystics use.   Some versions are celibate, but this is not mandatory.

ida craddock sketch

ida craddock sketch

The mandate is a  spiritualized, subtle, sustainable sexuality:  a Sivaic perpetuity before the peak as it were.   Through this medium, transmission flows.   It is similar to the radiation from rocks and flowers, human to human, star to star.   Ida Craddock taught it to Victorians, and was hounded to her death by outraged male chimney-pots and the church.  They were scared of having their black holes in petticoats taken away from them.  The Pulpit thundered.

Sexual honesty is a human Achilles heel:  the preference is fantasy, guilt, romance, fast in-and-out, and domination.   Sexual-spiritual Odyssey is likely to explore any one, or some of these completely, towards the light.


sunmoon seal of solomon


Then I remembered and found this bit of Solomons Song …
verses by Alan Jacobs and JA, June 1995

“For dark am I, and ardent,
singed and seared by scorching sun
to taste the vine.”

“Our house has beams of cedar,
our bed is green, your eyes are doves in flight.”

“As an apple among the wood,
do you stand out from youth,
I bask beneath your shade
and your fresh fruits are sweet as truth.”

“O that your left hand rest over my head,
your right hand in my heart!
Daughters of Jerusalem
awaken not Love, till He wills …
Hear His voice! how bounding over hills
my lover leaps
like stag or young gazelle,
gazing in through our lattice.”

“Scent of green fig,
oh dove, hidden in rocky clefts,
let me see and touch your face –
catch the little foxes that maraud the vine.”

“How fair you are, my darksome dear,
your eyes behind your veil are doves,
your raven locks are flocks of goats
descending Gilead in silken droves.”

“Your teeth are a herd of sheep just shorn,
come up from Jordan’s streams:
each with lambs is blessed, not one unborn,
your lips are scarlet thread that gleams.”

“Your cheeks are pairs of pomegranate
in a veil of wind swept fields,
your neck is King David’s tower of granite
hung with a thousand warriors’ shields.”

“Your two breasts as pair of soft young roes,
feed among lovely lilies white
till break of dawn with the rose
as shadows flee the light.
I will rise and reach the mountains of myrhh
and hills of golden frankincense.”

“Your lips sip sweet as honey comb,
the milk beneath my tongue,
your fragrant robe as fresh as foam,
a love-locked garden rose, my bride so young.”

“Sealed spring, a crystal fountain
cinnamon scent of orchard spice
streams down the sacred mountain,
aloes, henna, nard and saffron rice.”


“I sleep, but heart and soul awaken
to my lover at the door: his voice to my plight
calls:  open my sister, beloved, by me be taken,
my head is wet with dew, my locks with drops of night.”

“My lover thrust through the door’s latch his hand,
my bowels were moved for him, so dear.
I rose to my beloved, to see him stand,
my fingers dripped sweet scent of myrrh.”

“I opened;  but how? he had turned and gone! 
What did he say? the soul within me failed. 
All night I sought him, till the dawn 
calling his name, grief struck, impaled.”


“The watchmen found me, lost in the city
as they were going about;  they beat and bruised me.
Keepers of walls, they had no pity –
tore away my cloak, defiled and used me.”

“I charge you O daughters, if you find
him, tell
 him I am sick and faint with love.”

“As cedar of Lebanon, tall his frame,
 my bridegroom, beloved his name.”


“Where did he go?
to his rose garden fled. 

I am his;  the beloved is mine. 
He browses in the lily bed.”

“In my nut garden standing still,
the golden Sun sinks into a silver Sea.”

“My love, like a wild stag
or young gazelle,

abounds on mountains of spices:
all is well.”

A.J. 1995

Arcana 6 lovers - Version 1




Aquariel – an angel of the waters and of the air through the woods of life.

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