We Forget Nothing

 

You see, I haven’t forgotten” sang Yves Montand. “We forget nothing, we get used to it, that’s all” answers Jacques Brel. “With time, all will be gone,” concludes Leo Ferre.The law of oblivion erases everything, but we just have to access the motherboard, every living event is written down inside forever. Our amnesia is only apparent. A bad habit that creates a misleading screen.

 

The Nagual

All our doings and movings are stocked forever in our unconscious … or in the cloud of our aura. To unearth the lost memories that we need, ancient techniques are available, like the nagual’s recapitulation. The Nagual is the Unknown, according to Castaneda. In the same time, the nagual is a way to explore ‘this infinity out there’. A way to remember your birth. Your past lives are within your reach, opening way to a bright future. Or just a jump to the Akashic records?

Actually it is a move of the assembly point. Ordinary magic. Finding the doorway to the nagual. In the vocabulary of Castaneda and Mexican shamans, Nagual is a keyword that opens many lockers. First, the Nagual is the chief of a wizards’ or shamans’ clan. He owns an innate quality that mades him the Nagual, and his clan’s wizards can see it. A detail in his inner light allows him to escape from this reality’s pressure. He goes easily « left-side » that is on a mental state of alpha wave — or in astral way, both labels are equivalent. 

He also can take other wizards with him over there. That unusual reality is also called Nagual.  And also that consciousness site in our light sphere,also called the aura or rather that huge group of consciousness sites is called ‘the left-side’. This left side of the body is using our right brain hemisphere. The left hemisphere, the one of reason and logic, is called the Tonal. Everyone knows everything about it. In fact, we know almost nothing about Nagual, in our western civilized world overprotected by reason and doubt.

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A Time of Innocence

 When everybody tells you ‘this is impossible’, you are supposed to believe it, and it becomes true. No way! The world is like you want it to be. Or, more exactly, as our conditioning wants it to be. The other world, the true one, the infinite one, is the Nagual. The pilot, the country and the transport way at the same time. Both absolute adventure and absolute rule. The black hole’s horizon we call the other world: other parallel universes. Visiting those worlds, at least the five reachable ones, preparing a premortem route to this quintuple infinite, that is nagualism.

A Nagual is not a shaman. In tribal societies, the shaman is the healer, the medicine man. He got special powers, as seeing the invisible, the dead or the future. To us, the shaman is a sorcerer, like the Nagual. But in some old countries like France, sorcery always evokes the black side. Yet white wizards do exist, see Gandalf. And white witches too, we called them the fairies. In the old times, wizards were enchanters, like Merlin. Long before that, Gauls called them druids. And if we go further, we find a time where every man was magical, every woman was a fairy.

Remember the time when almighty men and women went and came from akashic shops. “Time it was, it was time, a time of innocence” sang Simon and Garfunkel. The light came from the light, the spirit was flying over the waters and love was living on the summits. And couples were wed in the sky.

 

What The Hell Happened To Us? 

You don’t believe me? You’d better go and see. Timeline is free, use it. Memory is inner: seek within. The unconscious is an emerald lake where all the memories of the sunken worlds sleep. In this already dark twilight, a bonus: we not only have access to this or that memory of our past lives, we have access to every place, any instant of the past. To see again the great figures who animated those ancient ages, in this dawn of humanity where time, heaven and earth were very different.

In order for the phoenix to rise from its ashes, it must start by throwing itself into the fire. If you want to get out of the flames of hell, go where the flames are highest, says the life coach. (source)Arnaud Desjardins Who wants to be reborn, must pass on the other side of his pain. Turn his gaze. 

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A Bag of Marbles

Humankind is not a bag of marbles, where every marble is independent from the other ones. Nor a world of « I » individualistics and closed like monades. What’s a monade? The notion came from Leibniz.(1646-1716) Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz, German philosopher, disciple of Descartes

For Leibniz, every person is locked up in a sphere deprived from any contact with outer world. Those blind and deaf spheres, he called them monades. Every monade seems to see things, talk to people, hear sounds, but none of that comes from outside, it is a pure product of imagination. Such idea is irrititating, because nothing can end that.

A bit like Matrix’ myth, an unstoppable trap! And a painful one, mainly because there is no way for us to proove that it is not real. In his Monadology, Leibniz explains: “There’s no way to explain how a monade could be innerly altered by any other creature, because we can’t transpose anything in there. (…) Monades have no windows through which anything can go in or out.” 

So it is definitely impossible to exchange anything with the outside world. A harsh system. How can we prove, indeed, that outer world is not illusion? ‘Our senses cheat us’ said Descartes. His disciple pushed doubt to its extreme limits. 

 

My Help

But life is different. Human beings are not monades. Nor 3D pieces of a holographic jigsaw. We are rather components of a huge living web, in which we are all interconnected, like cells of one body. We all have ancestors, nobody is formed ex nihilo, we all owe a lot of people, prominent or humble, famous or unknown. Thus, in this research, I am indebted to many authors, researchers and wizards of all kinds: Edgar P. Jacobs, Plato, Robert Charroux, Hergé, Jules Verne, the “Contes et Légendes” books, Lob and Pichard, Herodotus, Pierre Mac Orlan, Ridder Haggard, James M. Barrie, JRR Tolkien, Saint Exupéry, André Malraux, Jean Giraud aka Moebius. All together they are the source of my quest. I wrote it as I lived: by their fine example.

For the times they are a-changin’.

 

 

Interconnected

We are the components of a large living canvas, interconnected cells as a single body. We are one body, the human body. Our arguments, our pettiness have no sense. But everybody forgot it. And no one care about.For the powerful guild of merchants gave us its ultimate weapon: egoism. Each one for oneself, each one consuming instead of sharing. And while we struggle with each other, powerful men deprive us of our goods, of our body, of our time end of our soul. “Separate them, you’ll rule them” said Machiavel, and with that motto he made the first principle of his governing science. It is the motto of religions, and the chorus of tyrannies. Be afraid, rulers and kings, we people are coming. Whatever we do, things are changing. In the older days, we were united, relied by a loving and knowing canvas.

Nevermind if we forgot it, technology has created a brand new one. Internet. The spirit of Gaïa is also inside the web.

 

Unthinkable

As I write these unthinkable words, I hallucinate and I remember. Twenty years ago, I thought I was at the end of the journey. I had given up. Unarmed. Disillusioned. When my lifelong friends left this plan, I made a point. My solitude on this earth would be as joyful as a funeral march. And at the end, I saw the cemetery. If I had known! I started preparing this site, without believing it too much, I had notes everywhere, glued to the wall, tacked, scribbled, scratched, had to choose, put order. I haven’t stopped since.

I thought I was alone in the world, I thought I was finished, as I was mistaken! Since 2008, this site is online. It has had four delusional versions, and millions of readers. So many encounters, so many changes, so many conquests on myself, my laziness, my indolence, my lack of tenacity, my weakness. I was that one. It took so many victories, small, daily, secret. They rebuilt me. The path up changed me. And I remember that beautiful word that opens a fabulous book, Tales of Power, by Castaneda.

“What is important for a warrior is to achieve the totality of oneself. The average man seeks certainty in the eyes of a spectator and calls it self-confidence. The warrior seeks to be impeccable in his own eyes and calls this humility. The warrior must constantly push himself beyond his limits. How many things are you doing now that you thought were crazy ten years ago?”

 

 

 

If the light sees a hundred thousand persons, it descends only on the one whose essence is light.
Rumi