Continuing my quest on the nature of time, I tried to straddle eternity. To my chagrin, I did not succeed, but on the way I discovered a very old secret: the threshold of the eternal. I understood that eternity is not at the end of life, but deep in the heart of the moment.
The ancient seers, los viejos videntes of which Juan Matus speaks, have a close connection with this discovery. Not only do they know that eternity belongs to the one who stops the world, but they have found the surest way to achieve it.
They managed to prolong their earthly existence indefinitely. These seers do not have unlimited confidence in the afterlife. They do not believe in life after life. They acquired the conviction that after the death of the body, the spirit, the soul and the conscience fly away towards the beak of the Eagle.
Once devoured, they believe, the consciousness is dissolved by the gastric juices of the Eagle and is found mixed with the universal consciousness, ready to be used for a new assembly, by a new being, in another world, during another time.
The individual loses self-awareness. His adventure stops, while elsewhere, I do not know where, in another era, I do not know when, a white fountain spits out a new being who owes a lot to the disappeared, but who also owes others. And this new being remembers nothing. It will be up to him to reconquer these memories from beyond the grave, in the hope, by the grace of remembrance, to finally escape the Eagle in his next incarnation.
That’s what annoyed Stephen Jordan so much. If the next life goes on without my being aware of it, eternity is a scam, he exclaimed. I want the being I am here and now to be conscious. I want the adventure to continue after death. If the adventure is experienced by another, no interest for me.
Dear Monsieur Jourdain had recalibrated the vocabulary of psychology for his sole use. He confused the self with the ego. When the Buddhists told him that the ego is the only part of the being that does not know enlightenment, he gets angry. If the ego cannot know awakening, he said, then awakening has no interest. I have been awake since the age of 16, and I still have my ego, as far as I know.
Basically, he is right. Nobody wants to go on living without being aware of it. In fact it amounts to saying that the spirit dies soon after the death of the body. So ? Where is our immortal soul? In the collective soup? Or collectivist? Can she escape the ravenous Eagle? Apparently not.
It seems that the old seers had the same reasoning as my late friend Stephen Jourdain. A post-life without self-awareness did not tell them anything. So they competed for tricks to extend their earthly stay. Some of them, Castaneda said, have survive until now.
Greek mythology teaches us that the duration of our life was fixed at 120 years by Zeus himself. This figure was in the specifications given to his nephew Prometheus, the brilliant geneticist to whom we owe this pure masterpiece that we are.
120 years is short. Very short. Too short to discover who you are and to develop the divine powers that sleep in you. But the old seers have found the parade. They managed to survive for centuries, perhaps millennia. If one does not think of disturbing their mummies or other precious relics of their material life.
Survive, exactly. To survive is not to live. The old seers maintain a form of dark, intermittent and blurred consciousness. They wander in the form of ectoplasm and hide in their places of power, those they had at the time of their physical life.
They are no longer eating, but they still need energy. Castaneda teaches us how these undead get energy. Sex is surely the best way to exchange energy. In any case, it seems to be the one used by the tenant, a former clairvoyant who is a kind of stowaway in the lineage of sorcerers of the nagual Juan Matus.
For centuries, this strange tenant has appeared to the new naguals. The tenant choose an attractive physical form, in order to obtain from them the love energy. With male naguals, he has a female body. With nagual women, in the guise of a handsome mature man. And fuck, and suck, and pump. The song is known.
When the tenant flies, he get full tank. In exchange, the young nagual receives one or more gifts of power. These are most often positions of the assemblage point, ie access to other worlds or other powers.
But these zombies needed something other than energy. I alluded to it. They absolutely needed physical support. Something that is their enduring body, not their perishable corpse. This support should be able to last as long as possible. For this, the body of the deceased seer was gutted, embalmed, kept under strips and in a sarcophagus.
But yes. The mummies are alive, scientists have proved it. That is why the old seers secretly surrounded their burials, accumulating fake hallways and hatchways. It was not to protect their mortuary treasure, but to protect a living treasure: their survival.
Without his mummy, a former seer is condemned to disappear. His fate becomes that of all deceased: join the beak of the Eagle, cross the galactic tunnel to disappear forever in the massive black hole that spins the entire Milky Way. That’s why the mummy is the most valuable earthly thing that these strange zombies still possess. Damage it, destroy it, move it and the ectoplasm immediately takes revenge.
Ancient seers are capable of killing by inflicting such fright that syncope is inevitable. They have other means of action on the living, seduction for example, as in the case of the tenant. But they belong to a bygone cycle.
The current cycle is that of the new seers, los nuevos videntes. They do not seek to prolong their earthly life. During their life, they prepare to face the death of the physical body. They accumulate the energy necessary for the inevitable encounter with the Eagle.
People who have had a near death experience or NDE do not meet an eagle at the end of the tunnel, but a being of light. Christians call him Jesus, Muslims Allah, Jews Elijah, astrophysicists Sagittarius A * – so they call the black hole in the galactic center.
The Nagual warriors call them the Eagle. They know that when they meet it, they have a cubic centimeter of luck, that it will end well for them. They have a tiny possibility of escaping it to continue in the infinity the cosmic adventure that they started. They try their luck. their path is that of impeccability, intention and action.
They act without waiting for any result of their actions. Yet they act. They believe without believing. They stop the world, they assemble other planes of reality, they assume animal consciousnesses, they change appearance, age, sex, they speak in tongues and do all kinds of crazy things that seem to them but natural.
Where does wisdom begin? Where does madness end? Is this tiny cube of luck for one of us ? No delay. No plan. No desire. Act.
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