Perhaps they are inviting One deeper or a warning, I feel a caution.
"It is thought that Choronzon dwells somewhere near The Horizon, in an area known as the Abyss (Which could be another name for the Deep Umbra). According to some rumors, he must be defeated by anyone venturing out into the Deep Umbra searching for a place among the Oracles."
Goats will wander...
I knew this before I read it. Weird. How can I know these things?
I didn't consciously seek a place among the Oracles, I may have joked about it, nonetheless, this entity is now clearly visible to me, it acts like Trump.
I have been prepared by the Dude to face the Dark, damn, that is really amazing.
Just some relevant or irrelevant ramblings...you decide
To walk your own way is a mistake.
You turn your back on Yaweh, a hedge of sorts, but then people get lost in the dark, their egos become very inflated by Choronzon/Legion, decay and entropy, this is where virtue comes in.
We stand because we can, it is our nature to be this.
These are symbols and concepts, but rarely mixed within muppets in this Age.
cw, "That is why a person who might be enlightened (a bodhisattva) does not always present a kind of detached and indifferent attitude but is perfectly free to allow emotions and attachments." --Alan Watts
I preach engagement, on every level. Turn into it, into it, don't run, nowhere to hide, face it here, now.
I'll stand with you, we can do it together, more is better than one, you are not alone...never were...never will be.
All the entropy seeds planted in your life, can be removed, this is what practice is for, to find your calm true nature so you can face the dark knowingly, not with all knowledge, but Aware.
I can't tell you about Ascension or enlightenment, who could I wonder
Those are silly notions, just be cool and calm and have fun.
Choronzon is dispersed by laughter, how cute.
Maybe if he spelled his name right, Corazon, he would turn into a Being of Light.
Ahhhh, now that would be something, to see the dark transform before your eyes
It prefers chaotic thought though until you can face it head on, because you must invoke the Devil yourself. These forces seeth around life sucking us dry because they have none.
A detente can be found, or insanity and dispersion is inevitable. Your center will hold if you let your will and aspirations grow, they will take you like jack and the beanstalk, into the sky.
...
1
The Journey
The soul is, in its own nature, perfect purity, perfect calm, perfect silence; and as a well springs from the very veins of the earth itself, so is the soul nurtured of the blood of God, the ecstasy of things.
This soul can never be injured, never marred, never defiled. Yet all things added to it do for a time trouble it; and this is sorrow.
To this, language itself bears witness; for all words which mean unhappy mean first of all disturbed, disquieted, troubled. The root idea of sorrow is this idea of stirring up.
For many a year man in his quest for happiness has travelled a false road. To quench his thirst he has added salt in ever increasing quantities to the water of life; to cover the ant heaps of his imagination he has raised mountains wherein wild beasts and deadly prowl. To cure the itch, he has flayed the patient;
...to exorcise the ghost, he has evoked the devil.
It is the main problem of philosophy, how this began. The Rishis, seven that sat on Mount Kailasha and considered thus, answered that the soul became self-conscious; and crying, “I am That!” became two even in the act of asserting it was One. This theory may be found not too remote from truth by whoso returns to that tower upon the ramparts of the soul and beholds the city.
The cure of disease is ease; of disquiet, quiet; of strife, peace. And to attain horsemanship the study of folios aids not, but the mounting of a horse; as the best way to swim is to enter the water and strike out, so it is cool sense, not feverish reason, that says: to attain quiet, practice quiet.
THE DUDE ABIDES, BE THE DUDE, OVERCOME DARKNESS
There are men so strong of will, so able to concentrate the mind, to neglect the impressions that they do not wish to receive, that they can withdraw themselves from their surroundings, even when those are as multitudinous and insistent as those of a great city. But for the most part of men, it is best to begin in easier circumstances, to climb the mountain in fine weather before attacking it in the snowstorm.
Be Vigilant or the malady may return...
And yet the eager aspirant will answer: Provided that the cure is complete. Provided that the sickness does not return when the medicine is stopped.
Ah! that were hard: so deepseated is the malady that years after its symptoms have passed, it seizes on a moment of weakness to blaze out again. It is malarial fever that lurks low, that hides in the very substance of the blood itself, that has made the very fountain of life partaker with it in the sacrament of death.
“Has a spider found out the communion cup?”
“Was a toad in the christening font?”
No: the remedy cures surely enough; but not often does it cure once for all, beyond relapse. But it is simple; once the symptoms have properly abated, they never return with equal force; and if the patient has but the wit to stretch out the hand for another dose, the fever dies.
...
Today, I saw a sword and it had a narrow edge, sharpened between chaos and virtue and I said to myself so narrow is the way. I was speaking to Aaron and I shared the view. That's what is very incredible about the next passage. For I said the same thing verbatim as the words spontaneously came.
What magick is this?!
Amazing to me...
...
If Thought then be that which troubles the soul, there is but one way to take. Stop thinking.
It is the most difficult task that man can undertake. “Give me a fulcrum for my lever,” said Archimedes, “and I will move the earth.” But how, when one is within, and part of, that very system of motion which one had desired to stop? Newton’s first law drops like the headsman’s axe on the very name of our endeavour. Well for us that this is not true as it is obvious! For this fact saves us, that the resolution of all these is rest. The motion is but in reciprocal pairs; the sum of its vectors is zero. The knot of the Universe is a fool’s knot; for all it seems Gordian, pull but firmly, and it ravels out. It is this seeming that is all the mischief; gloomy is the gulf, and the clouds gather angrily in monstrous shapes; the false moon flickers behind them; abyss upon abyss opens on every hand. Darkness and menace; the fierce sound of hostile things!
One glimmer of starlight, and behold the golden bridge! Narrow and straight, keen as the razor’s edge and glittering as the sword’s blade, a proper bridge if thou leanest not to right or left. Cross it — good! but all this is in the dream. Wake!
Thou shalt know that all together, gulf, moon, bridge, dragon and the rest, were but the phantasms of sleep howbeit, remember this, that to cross the bridge in sleep is the only way to waking.
I do not know if many men have the same experience as myself in the matter of voluntary dreaming, or rather of contest between the sought and the unsought in dream. For instance, I am on a ridge of ice with Oscar Eckenstein. He slips to one side. I throw myself on the other. We begin to cut steps up to the ridge; my axe snaps, or is snatched from my hand. We begin to pull ourselves up to the ridge by the rope; the rope begins to fray. Luckily it is caught lower down on a cleft of rock. A Lammergeier swoops; I invent a pistol and blow its brains out. And so on through a thousand adventures, making myself master of each event as it arises. But I am grown old today and weary of thrills. Nowadays at the first hint of danger I take wing and sail majestically down to the glacier.
If I have thus digressed, it is to superimpose this triangle on that of the task, “Stop Thinking.” Simple it sounds, and simple it is — when you have mastery. In the meantime it is apt to lead you far indeed from simplicity. I have myself written some million words in order to stop thinking! I have covered miles of canvas with pounds of paint in order to stop thinking. Thus may it be that I am at least to be considered as no mean authority on all the wrong ways; and so perhaps, by a process of exclusion, on the right way!
Unfortunately, it is not as easy is this: . . . .
There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays.
And every single one of them is right.
And right for A is often wrong for B.
But, luckily, the simpler the goal is kept, the simpler are the means. Elsewhere in my writings will be found a fairly painstaking and accurate account of the process. The present essay is but to advocate a mighty engine adjuvant — the shoulder of Hercules to the cart-wheel of the beginner whose diffidence whispers that he is incapable of following those instructions in the difficult circumstances of ordinary life, or for the enthusiast who wisely determines like Kirkpatrick to “mak siccar.” Indeed, the cares of this world, the deceitfulness of the riches, the lusts of the flesh and the eye, the pride of life, and all the other enemies of the saint, do indeed choke the word, and it becometh unfruitful.
--Aleister Crowley
...
Dismiss any criticism of anything until you have mounted the horse yourself and only then can you judge a golden source or not.
AC was a Golden Man who made a lot of mistakes, may we learn from them in our own journeys and not be so quick to judge one another, but instead, receive all as a message just for you.
Peace and calm to you all as the Way to fight the good fight.
My current favorite words in time...
"One glimmer of starlight, and behold the golden bridge!
Narrow and straight, keen as the razor’s edge and glittering as the sword’s blade, a proper bridge if thou leanest not to right or left. Cross it — good! but all this is in the dream. Wake!"
Wake!
Wake!
Wake!
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