The possibilities of the mind/spirit are unlimited. Its power over matter is total, even though we are unable to use it in everyday life. The most fascinating is to be guided by the spirit in the meanders of the past. All that we have lived remains in us forever. The most difficult thing is to remember it …
In 1992, the author received the initiation to the Little Mysteries, as it was said in the Middle Ages. This initiation purges the engrams that sink the energy.
It is called the arcana XIII, for its relationship with the internal state evoked by this asset of the tarot of Marseilles. It consists in reliving in deep trance the lived moments that the conscious memory has erased, and which are at the source of the engrams. With the help of the nagual who gives the necessary energy, we go deep inside ourselves. In the process of exploring our unconscious past, we may pick up a few snapshots of past lives. As the author does not do things in half, he has found no less than twenty-two previous lives. It was a shock. For the next decade, he was almost exclusively dedicated to restoring these past lives with the utmost precision. And in those lives that were his, he tells you now that of a Greek philosopher, Theorima. She lived in Priena, facing the island of Samos, in the 6th century BCE. Today in Turkey, this coast belonged to Greece. Let’s give her the floor.
My name is Theorima, I am a scholar. Former student of Thales of Miletus, I want to be a professor like he was. It is a feat for a Greek girl to study, which is reserved for boys. I was the only one girl to succeed, and I had to fight to follow the lessons of such a master. After ten years near him in the city of Miletus, I wanted to return to Priene to teach at home. In the grip of criticism, victim of terrible sexism, I could not exercise the profession of teacher. I retired to the mountains for years. I became myself.
Then I could become a teacher in Priena, the place where I was born. I developed a method that allows you to put emotions in order to learn how to manage them. This new science is too personal. It attracts jealousy among the Greek intelligentsia. Captivated by my research, I ignore gossip and dominates the noise. Beyond the intellectual work, I like the practice, and it is practicing that I flourish.
In the morning I heal anger, consumptions, moods and morosities. A crowd rushes to my door. The more the people appreciate me, the more the elite scorns me. Praise or criticism do not reach me. In the evening I teach. Like my master Thales, I am very focused on mathematics, geometry and astronomy. And I use it a lot.
I have a dozen students, including a particularly bright, whom I love as a mother loves her son. I exercise outdoors, on an open space. Rain or shine, I teach every day. Summer, we start after the hot weather, around 17h. As long as it’s daytime, it’s the theory. I draw magic numbers and squares in the sand. Then I erase everything and my students try to reproduce the lesson of the day. My spiritual son is always the best. I already know that he will not be long in going beyond his master. He has the gift for magic squares and angulations. This is the essence of my theoretical teaching.
At night comes practice: we observe the stars. In my system each star corresponds to a simple emotion, which I call an emanation. It sometimes takes dozens of emanations to make an emotion like reactive anger. It is interesting to observe the positions of the stars relative to each other. It gives a schema. Then I teach my students the art of placing their emotions in certain parts of the body. For example :
– Do you feel your anger? Move it out of your heart. Put it down in your left heel. You’re there ?
– Spread your sexual desire in your fingers.
I have traced in the starry sky a human body where each star represents an emotion. On this astral map, emotions and emanations are all in their proper place, in the exact relationship to each other. It is the state of harmony that makes man a wise man. It is an infallible mathematical method that allows one who masters it to no longer be the toy of his passions. At this game, my protégé quickly became an expert.
Often he corrects me, and I see that he is right. His talent borders on genius, which makes him dearer to my heart. But this young man is possessed by a passion he can not control: a devouring, unquenchable ambition. This is his weakness, I predict that it will be his ruin if he does not correct it. The more he progresses in knowledge, the greater his thirst for glory and my distress. On the stands of the stadium or theater, the only place he accepts is the place of honor. To achieve this, he would kill father and mother. That’s what he’s going to do …
In his eyes, I became an obstacle. I gave him all my knowledge, all my knowledge. He has already passed me in the mathematical field. But the control of the passions is for him only a pastime without stake. He did not see the trap that he is straining to himself. Because he decided to lose me.
First he rides other students against me. This hostile group is getting closer to my old enemies, the male scientists. The cabal ends with a lawsuit: mine. My ideas were not taken seriously, they became harmful. I am declared corrupter of youth, I am forbidden to teach. Assigned to residence, I am condemned to keep quiet. Faithful to my science, I organize my harmful passions to defuse them. My old darling does not stop there. He’s burning my house. I narrowly escape the fire, but my notes didn’t. Engraved on wax plates, they melted in the fire. In one evening, ignorant flames devoured a lifetime of research. I am thinking of exile, for this young tyrant, as I know now, will not stop in such a good way.
Alas, before fleeing, I accept an invitation to a notable. He could plead my case with the hierarch and get me permission to teach. Did I really believe him? I went to that dinner defusing my mistrust … The wine he gave me was poisoned. My student won.
The Riddle Key
With the death of Theorima, all traces of his work disappeared. Any? Not ! His student took the precaution of stealing all his notes before burning his home. The intriguing would be able to publish everything under his signature. To him the honor, the pomp and the table of the powerful.
This unscrupulous young man has left his name in history. His name was Pythagoras. Later, he went to Italy to reproduce Théorima’s teaching methods, without ever mentioning it, of course. He attributed to himself all the mathematical, geometrical and astrological notions that his teacher had compiled during a lifetime of research. We see in him the inventor of the multiplication table. But we are sure of nothing about it: no trace of the writings of Pythagoras. Not a single line of his hand has gone through history. There is still a justice! It is attributed theorems, but the true, the only theorem of Pythagoras, here she is: Theorima.