Help the Saga Now - Eden Saga

What I reveal in Eden Saga is unusable today. Thus inaudible. I don’t know what to do down here. I lost half my readers in one year. Needless to repeat the same facts, I’ve already gone too far. Sometimes comes the need of screamers to shout what is obvious. They went back to sleep like Vinci did, like Cheikh Anta Diop, Pathé Diagne, Bob Marley, Spinoza, Nietzsche, Van Gogh, Balavoine and so many others …

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The Fate of the Screamers

They wanted to change the world, but the world doesn’t want to change. It’s a program that repeats itself endlessly. If the world doesn’t change, it changes us all, whoever we are. The screamers will understand sooner or later at their expense.

They talked, they shout themselves hoarse. In vain. Their lost voices, their bodies in the ground, they return from where they came … naked and frozen … as the world continues its mad course towards a palpable destiny. The light that shines in them will be able to illuminate others, who will pass in turn and be forgotten so that nothing changes. All that happens is willed. No god is to blame, all they bow. Destiny wins.

Is it too late for me? I am a simple man. Simplicity loves me and I love it back. I have neither the importance nor the talent of these great men. Like them, however, I have devoted my life to seeking the truth behind the moving shadows that foolish demons wave before our eyes. No illusion. Most humans are too tired to have the strength to rebel. No blame. Those who know me, who love me, wanted to imitate me. One after another, they gave up. No return.

Outstretched Bowl

My days are numbered. My reserves too: I have nothing left. My savings have lived. They were to lead me to the end, so much the worse. My luck has turned, the debts are getting too high. Wisdom would have me stop the charges. Not without paying what I owe.

How do you earn money? Employers are not interested in storytellers. Nor are they interested in the people who wake up. As a last resort I turn to those who appreciate my work. Once again, the old wise man holds out his sarcophagus and awaits your offerings.

Always the Same

Some give me a lot, always the same. They are too rare. Why are they the only ones to contribute? If I have fewer readers, quantity gives way to quality. You spend more time on the site, read more pages, come back more often. But no. I will not put ads on this site. No, I will not publish a book. Everything is free here, everything will remain until my death. And after.

Taking Stock

Dear readers, I can only count on you. Take stock of what you have received over the months and years. Eden Saga, ask yourself. What is it for? Millions of readers, thousands of images, hundreds of articles, dozens of discoveries. How much is a lifetime of research worth?

When ? How Much?

The forgotten past, the inevitable future, the fragile present… The inner strength, the search for light, the gift of Isis, astral travel, the timeline… The great authors, the awakeners, the sages… Thought, action, reflection, meaning, initiation… The meaning, sense, essence and existence… Artists, poets, adventurers, mystics… Secrets, lies, concealments, prohibitions… The goddesses, the gods, the prophets, the fools…

Existence blows up every system.
Soeren Kierkegaard

Ask yourself how much it is worth. See how much you can give, and at what rate. There is danger in the house. The saga dies.

Unpublishable

What I am telling here is not in the books. I have braved too many taboos, violated so many prohibitions, ticked so many arrows, corrected too many errors. The single thought banished me. The welfare-penance me voules to the whims. I am unforgiving, inefequentable, impubliable. As everything that is indispensable. Publish Xavier? What publisher would take such a risk?

Former editor, I know what I’m talking about. Ideologies, sects, religions, parties, clans are all-powerful. I have received insults, anathemas, threats too. A wise man must ignore baseness and slander.

I belong to the ancient tradition of enchanters. I seek beauty in the midst of horrors. I emphasize what goes in the direction of the best, the highest, the awakening. I hold on to dreams that give pleasure and people who give confidence in humanity. I praise acts of love. Self-giving. Dedication. Volunteering. What elevates, what grows, what makes you happy, what fills you up. I re-enchant this world of numbers. I exalt the other way.

If the grain does not die

In every being I meet, I see the greatness to come. I presentit what it will be if it develops the best in itself. Few succeed. Few know how to rise without crushing, grow without exploiting, walk without running, without weakening, without crushing the feet. I strongly encourage those who dare. Those who insist. Those who weave the web of solidarity, sharing, free exchange.

I refuse the dictatorship of the money-king, so money is offended and avoids me. This mercantile and venal world no longer wants me. I want to continue, however. There is still so much to say, so many beautiful stories to tell, so much greatness to exalt. This adventure has just begun. For it to continue, a great impulse must come to the rescue of my failing phynance pump.Thank you Alfred Jarry

Phynance Pump

Ubu roi is a play by Alfred Jarry in five acts, published on 25 April 1895 in the review of Paul Fort Le Livre d’art, then the same year at the editions of Mercure de France, and first performed on 10 December 1896 by the Opera Theatre Company at the Nouveau-Théâtre. This is the first piece of the Ubu cycle.

As we know, the mind-blowing machine is in the world of Ubu the strictly complementary instrument of the pump or hook to phynance – and one does not get tired of admiring the Jarrian prescience, the generality and the topicality of his finds. (Frédéric Lordon, in The Diplomatic World)

Thanks to you

I’m talking to everyone. But for the first time, a special dedication to those with hearts as big as wallets. A single gift from one of them, one of them, would allow me to look forward to the future under happy auspices. For a change. You spend millions on a hospital, an air centre, a hospice or so many charitable works that appeal to your generosity. You give because you know it’s useful, that your money will be used to do good.

I heal incurable diseases. I straighten humps. I change the course of ghostly lives. Think about it. My daily work of healing and prevention is worth a hospital. I train healers and reki practitioners. A small team of committed people, a flood of loyal readers, all this must continue. Make a gesture for Eden Saga and my work will live.

Help Yourself

There is another way to help me. It’s to help you. Help you to see clearly, help you grow, help you to become the one who sleeps in you without seeing the daylight. Yes, seriously, help yourself. Help your power to express itself. Help your qualities to take the front. Help your blockages to get out of your hair once and for all. If you don’t help yourself, who will? And if no one helps you, how can you ever help others?

I am a storyteller, it is true, but this is not a fairy tale. Yet the enchanter Xavier can give you a magic wand. Give you the opportunity to take advantage of the cubic centimeter of luck that you have missed so far to realize yourself. Time passes, time is short, the time to dream is very short, what should you do with your days? Come and see me at home. In my stronghold on the south side of Cap d’Erquy. Enjoy the breathtaking view. Surrender to a reki that will make you an indescribable effect.

People who come to see me leave differently. It’s not a temporary wellness, like thalassotherapy or hammam. This is a tenacious achievement. Come here and celebrate the reunion with yourself. Your financial participation will be a less important help than our meeting, which will count for you as much as it does for me.
No one comes to see me by chance. And those who did are all gone happy.

Better yet: they come back. They don’t need it anymore, but as much as they want to! And finding them brings me more than great joy. It’s a great joy to see how they have changed. How they radiate. How they have grown.

Bio Energy