The double is our inner god who incarnates in us after awakening.
The timeline puts its hook into my solar plexus. It pulls me through the heart chakra, always straight forward. Sometimes the front is in the past, in the past in the future. I don’t choose. I never know where it’s going to take me or why. When it pulls me, sometimes it divides me. One part of me goes away, the other stays here. I’m double. In astral, I feel multiple and do not know in which “me” I must go down.
Wherever it is, I have to go, I have to be there, I have to stay there. On the life line, only time matters. The one that is put to understand, to react, to move. Time runs after me, jostles me and my shadow scatters.
On the timeline, time doesn’t matter, yet it has to last. It can’t be explained, it shows. The session has to last until I understand where I am and what I do. Until I understand who I am. Until I realize why I’m where I am, somewhere in the multiverse or in a parallel multiverse. There are thousands. The life line opens a gap between worlds, between eras. It makes me travel for free where no one goes.
The gift of ubiquity stirs me and accompanies me. I appeared to some who witnessed it. Yet during the apparition, I did not move from home. Perhaps I felt a slight emptiness, a sign of duplication. Sometimes nothing, I am equal to myself. My benefactor called it here and here.
To dream is to live a doubling of oneself, a bilocation. You are both asleep and awake, both here and there. One of them is a double, but your consciousness is in both. Not at the same time. Alternately. Strange sensation.
A few years ago, I wanted to take a swim under the February full moon. Suicidal, my life was like nothing. As you can imagine, the English Channel was freezing cold, but I felt nothing. I was somewhere else. In great danger. I swam out to sea, it was ebb tide, I felt good. Detached… I remember thinking, “Stop, as soon as you get past the point, you’re going to be caught in the current, you’re going to drown.”
It remained a dead letter. I continued to swim towards the dark, the night without end, vast as the sea, and cold too. Later, when the current caught me, I told myself «you will drown». It was a simple observation as if it were another, an ant, an unimportant insect, and everything was fine.
So I had the image of one of my places of power behind me on the coast. A magical rock where I liked to sit facing off. Suddenly I found myself on this rock. Shivering. Hallucinated. Without knowing how, I had torn myself away from the grip of the icy water, I had jumped several kilometers, to this rock on the cliff.
No, it’s even worse than that. At the same time as I let myself sink into the icy water, I was also on this cliff, facing the dark night, listening to the monotonous sound of the waves below. Yes, I could have told myself that I had dreamed the whole story… Yet I had a short, quick breath. I was breathless, exhausted as after a sustained effort. My clothes were wet. I shivered without being able to stop.
Somehow, I get up, I go in a hesitant race through the trees. How did I do it? I snapped my teeth, my clothes weighed like icy lead, but sweat flooded my face and chest. A cloud passed over the round face of the moon. I could have sworn it winked at me. (excerpt from Here and Here)
Here and now deep in the past or at the end of the future, I am double. And I know my double. And the double is in me.It looks like me, or rather it’s me who looks like him. He is my mold, in which I was shaped during my incarnation. He is my model and my god. His word enlightens me with his precious advice and I am the direction he points me.
There was in the Romans a double god named Janus, and one of the seven hills of Rome bore his name, the Janiculum. He had two faces and great powers. The Latin poet Ovid43 BCE to 18 CE evokes the god Janus he meets in a dream:
“All that your eyes embrace, the heavens, the ocean, the clouds and the earth, it is to my hand that it is given to close or to open them; it is to me that the guard of this immense universe has been entrusted; it is I who make it turn on its hinges. I guard the gates of Heaven with the kind procession of the Hours: to go out and to return Jupiter himself needs my services. Now learn the reason for my appearance, although you already know part of it.
Every door has two sides: one looks outwards at people, the other the Lare from the house inwards. And just as your doorman, seated near the threshold of the house, sees the entrances and exits, so I, doorman of the heavenly palace, examine at the same time the East and the West. In order not to waste time turning my head, I can follow the eyes without moving the body.”
Does this mean that the double is our divine face? I am sure of it, even if sometimes I doubt it.
See the arcanum XVI of the initiatory Tarot. This is the House of God, not the Tower, as the British call it. Or the Tower of Destruction, as some English tarots call it. What destruction? Total contradiction. The House of God, as its name indicates, represents this blessed moment when our mortal body receives the divine visit that transforms it into light, knowledge and love.
Look at the image. While the ascent of kundalini takes place along the central channel sushumna, represented by the inner emptiness of the tower, the summit crown finally tilts. First we had to open the first six chakras in the previous arcanum, XV The Devil.
The crown is that of the ego. Its tilting allows the energy of the kundalini to ascend to the divine energy. Awakening is the fusion of the two energy currents, the one that rises in us and the one that descends from heaven.
This fusion brings us to the sky in the bright white light of gwenwed. The brightness of this light is represented by the colored balls in the white sky.
If neon ink had existed, these balls would have used it. Gwenwed is the circle of God in the druidic religion. Only God can stick to it. So the awakened just passes by and does not linger. This is why the arcanum XVI lasts only a brief moment.
The soul of the awakened descends swirling into the physical body, but see the double half hidden by the flesh-colored tower, which has become the House of God since God dwelt in it. The double has always guided us from above into the astral plane. Every night he informs us, transforms us and prepares us for the day ahead.
Now he no longer hides. He is incarnate, we carry him within us, and his wise counsel is immediately accessible to us at every moment. Hence I conclude that the double is indeed our inner god. I will add that before awakening, all believers who pray to their god are only addressing him, the double individual, who hovers unceasingly over their heads until the blessed moment when he will incarnate.
I’ve already told this episode from my benefactor’s early childhood. It happened “when he was just an infant feeding his mother. The milk did not come well, the baby “fell asleep on the roast beef”, according to the elegant formula of friend Flornoy. In his sleep, he bit the nourishing nipple, waking his mother who also dozed. She utters a cry of pain, and, half asleep, throws the baby into her crib.
Bewildered, frightened, haggard, the little one begins to howl. It is then that he sees himself alternately in the lap of his mother and at the bottom of his cradle. Just like Don Juan Matus in the river and on the shore. In his life, he never made the connection between the two anecdotes. But he had just experienced a constant of castanedism: the importance of the assembly point and the reality of the places of consciousness it determines.
Years after this adventure, Flornoy named the infant experience here and here. Here and there would not be suitable, because the cradle and breast of his mother were not experienced as different places, but as the same place visited alternately by the baby.” (excerpt from Here and Here)
Similar experiences, I have been collecting them since childhood. According to my benefactor, it shows that I am awake from birth. For, according to him, bilocation is a sign of awakening, only the awakened can live it in consciousness. I replied that he was also awake from birth. The scene of the feeding is a bilocation lived consciously. He told me that yes, the infant he was was showing signs of awakening, but, he added, all infants are awake. They are in the arcane I Le Bateleur, with his infinite hat he remembers his previous lives, he knows his future. His double is in him.
And then, between the age of three months and three years, sometimes earlier, sometimes later, the infant saw his original fracture — and not his original sin, what sin could one commit at such a young age? “He undergoes his first engram. This engram mother makes him lose the memory of what he was, and the knowledge of what he will become.”
“Your difference,” continued Flornoy, “is obvious: you have never known a basic engram. You have miraculously cut this original fracture. You are what llamas call a Tulkou, the reincarnation of a great lama or prophet. In our druidic tradition, you are a Return, that of an ancient initiate.
When my benefactor told me that, I only heard gibberish with too many new words, too many incomprehensible situations. Rushed to the other world at the age of 42, I had to first renew the broken thread of my childhood. When I was twelve, I lost all my powers. Bilocation, healing, clairvoyance, prophetic dream, infused science, astral journey, time travel… These fabulous gifts had accompanied me since I was born. One by one, they evaporated. Their memory was lost. The extraordinary events of my young age became of the same nature as dreams: unreal.
This fucking ordinary reality ate me from toe to head, and I climbed my arcanes like all the sleeping ones. Until the TowerHouse of God where my eyes were deciphered. If Flornoy is right, I did not have an original fracture, but a teenage fracture. I had to fill it patiently to win back my gifts one after the other.
And here we are tonight. (source)Jacques Brel, Mon enfance
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