Black Night of Soul - Eden Saga

“No. I don’t understand it. Lost in the fog at the bottom of a moonless night. Before me I see nothing. Behind me I don’t remember anything that explains anything. Without too much illusion, I stumble blindly to find the way. Towards where? I have no idea.

Naked Soul

Where? When? How? I don’t know who I am, where I come from, where I’m going. I don’t know why I’m here in this female body at the time we are. Is there a reason or not? Do I have something special to do? Not a mission, just something that explains why I am here and now…

And my job is so annoying, I’m choking. I managed to get rid of the fear, it’s behind me. But clarity is not
coming. And it’s not for tomorrow.”

Word for word, that’s what you wrote me last night. Each word awakens in me a host of memories, in each one you stand whole. Where you think you are in the most opaque fog, I see you under a 3 kW spotlight/ pursuit. A type of projo that does not yet exist: x-rays for the soul.

Here you are naked, not of body, but completely naked in the light of the Self. I see your soul bare. I see the Self in you. I see you.

And if you saw yourself as well as I see you, you would be ready to face the second enemy of the warrior: clarity. You evolve in such clarity that it is surprising that it does not illuminate your path and the depths of your soul.

The Soul and You

“At that time I was still completely trapped in the spirit of that time. I spoke a lot about the soul, I knew many learned words about it, I made it an object of science. My soul cannot be the object of my judgment and knowledge: it is my judgment and knowledge that are the object of my soul.

That is why the spirit of the depths forced me to speak to my soul, to invoke it as a living being, existing by itself. I had lost my soul. For the spirit of this time, the soul is a thing that depends on man, which can be judged and classified, and whose magnitude we can grasp.” C.G. Jung, The Red Book, Liber Primus, fol II

Certainly, for the spirit of the depths, it is quite another thing: your soul is not yours, says Jung, you belong to him. So I had to speak to my soul as something distant and unknown that does not exist by me but by whom I exist.” (read more)

The Spirit of the Deep

Carl Jung opposes two forms of mind that guide our behaviour: the mind of time and the mind of depth. According to Jung, the spirit of the depths does not obey a rule written or conceived by men. The rule that animates it resembles the unwritten Rule of which Castaneda speaks, which every warrior has in him, and which is the heart of the philosophy of the Nagual. Jung has just discovered this opposition, or complementarity, between the two forms of mind. The spirit of the depths had not manifested in him before that time.

There is an explanation for this. When he wrote his Red Book, Carl Gustav Jung had just passed the cap of forty, and that age is not trivial. At the age of 42, according to the druidic tradition, comes the sixth and last initiation. The first one occurs at the age of 7, the others follow every seven years. The sixth initiation, at 42 years of age, consecrates spiritual maturity. From then on, the being is complete. But his kingdom is no longer of this world. So are the great initiates.

Maison-Dieuenglish : The Tower

Yes, you are luminous and you do not know it yet. You do not evolve only in the white light, you are this white light.

For the tarot of Marseille, the Maison-Dieu is the opening of the last chakra, the crown, or fontanelle. The open fontanelle, the initiate is connected to the Spirit. It is said that he is awakened. Why this name of Maison-Dieu? At this arcane, the crown of the ego falls once and for all, and it is awakening. Suddenly, the being is connected to the great whole. He is enthusiastic, which means “delighted in God”. That’s why arcane XVI has such a name. The House-God is the human body transfigured by awakening, which regains its lost powers; the free man, the new Adam is finally similar to the gods who did it. (read more)

The Inner Light

Like the lightning that illuminates everything, is it white as the awakening is white. Like a blank cartridge. The awakened is surprised, he makes a din, for a moment the awakened thinks he is dead. But he is not afraid. The awakened is a blank ball. The powder of the wet petard or the fireworks of July 14. We light up. We wait for the final bouquet.

Eclatant, he will come in his time. The new awakened are so impatient!

“At the second stage of awakening, the first gifts will flow, the most spectacular ones, like the gift of healing, or the gifts of hyper-sensitivity, of meta-perception. Thought transmission or telepathy, third ear or clear-hearing, third eye or clairvoyance, etc.

Opening yourself to the world is what we see on the arcane XVII of the tarot, the Star. A young woman, pure and naked, pours her water into the water of the Living. The truth and light that inhabit it make it as pure as nature. As true. As luminous. The Star does not keep its awakening for itself. She pours her water, becoming for others a new source of light and truth.

Stage where the companion becomes master. Stage where he realizes his masterpiece that the living will respect.

New

A new energy is flowing through your veins. You do body exits, astral flights in controlled dreams, it is not yet full consciousness, but it is already more warrior than the usual unawareness of your ordinary dreams. You remember it when you wake up, your journey comes clear to you, be welcome in the non-ordinary reality.

Even if you don’t understand everything that is going on now, very soon you will know the truth. This new reality that seems unreal to you is the only one that is true. Very real. You reach it through the path of lucid dreaming.

Sleep

Lights out. I stopped to cut off the communication link between us. The person fell asleep. And while I was casting the curses that should wash his body deep, free his captive soul, cut the nets, cables, ropes and wires that connected him to his kinship, his ancestors, his living, endless lineage, the person passed from life to death.

She has experienced the post-mortem cleaning, the toilet of the mortician, the water gushed from the funeral pump. All around the recently deceased person wept a huge crowd that grew ever larger, and wept, and chanted, guided, stimulated, carried by my voice from beyond falls, howling mermaid who sticks pain and joys, death and lives, mourning and in-life, clinging to my glu voice, piercing my voice to be heard by the dead themselves.

Terrible is his echo! He can kill the unclean living, slaughter the rubber-coated, discredit the zingueurs, debunk the scoundrels, tear up the tiles, decapitate the headless.

Satisfaction

Nothing has prepared you for the great reunion party, because no one can expect such congratulations. Which last and grow from one end of the sky to the other. Who take you by the waist and cut you a pencil, you cut yourself up and melt you in thick nature, you rejoice ceaselessly, and you feel the caress of a sweet summer zephyr, being or having been, the repeated suspension of your crumbled laughter I am busy and I am silent.

Take by the hand the ways and paths that have led you so far, so well, and here, take this gourd, put there the memories that came back to you, the old disappointed loves, all the “if I had known!” , the unknown giants, the evil demons and the naive fairies. Put it also, it is the most important, the unwelcome demon that diminishes you so much. It will be better there than in your viscera. It is the object of the gourd and for that we use it.

See Saw Seen

If I had known! If I had seen! If someone had told me! If I had chosen the other way! If only! If I were less stupid or not so, by grabbing these sawsFrench saw = scie, like si = if I would have cut Paris and bottled it. –No, I answer. You are confusing. It is your evil demon that must be imprisoned. And rather in a gourd. Or in a magic lamp. Otherwise why give you all this trouble? –Oh, he said, very subtly: it’s that the good is not here.

You don’t move any more. Motionless. Sit down.

Sensitive as you are, you need to stay on this chair a few days. I wish you the garments of a king, the elm of a deer, the crown on your knees, the throne in its closet. Please do what we do there at leisure: push it. When you will grew up half a mile, I’ll bandage your flayed knees.

Hypothesis

With the presence of mind of a master of arms, I brandish the hypothesis: this fear? this acute malaise that occurs in my kidneys? a child’s anxiety, taken from a nightmare, takes me from time to time. More and more often. I do not see too clearly. I know it is deep and yet foreign. It would be necessary to translate this horrible pressure, the informle fear that seizes my chin, which stretches my nose and ear and annoys me.

Insolent impression of the inevitable. Horror without name, without image, even reality. I swim. I swim and suddenly sink. Suddenly the trip revealed my age and I come out of my cage in simple anthropophage. I am hanging on the ropes, I am busy with the ramages, my body is passing and my soul is luggage.

Follow me, be me and you will get out of it unscathed, without dilemma, as we like with tight teeth. Dance D. Sing C. See if. Taste. Touch the ground. Be fa. Love me.

Intent

Unwillingness of a tenacious impression, which comes from before, of the conception, of the gonads, what do I know? Did you pass on to me this childish terror that does not ring a bell? Is it from the malignity that you inhabit and against which you can do nothing? That you believe! You can do everything if it is about you, nothing if it is about the Self. Make your choice.

So-called, be distant, swadhistan, take your time. Don’t answer lightly, we don’t care about her and her ugly pole. Our light so pinched can pretend what she wants, we both care, my chti old man. Not agree?

You’re swollen, you lucky bad ass! Did you see the mess you put me in? Fucking bastard. Heavy atmosphere! Atmosphere? I can’t breath!! You’re so heavy, brawling donkey! I’ve never seen such a ball breaker before.

Let them talk their bitter bile away, there is no worse dumb than the master dumber you can be. I only tolerate assholes who are shitting straight. Question of elementary principle. You see that she is indisposed. Leave her alone or else it will be blood.

No need to insist, sister. Nothing to brush, bros.

Healing Secrets