23 May - (Air) Liber LXV, 2:30-32
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30. I saw a pale sad boy that lay upon the marble in the sunlight, and wept. By his side was the forgotten lute. Ah! but he wept.
31. Then came an eagle from the abyss of glory and overshadowed him. So black was the shadow that he was no more visible.
32. But I heard the lute lively discoursing through the blue still air. -
@Jim Eshelman said
"**30. I saw a pale sad boy that lay upon the marble in the sunlight, and wept. By his side was the forgotten lute. Ah! but he wept.
- Then came an eagle from the abyss of glory and overshadowed him. So black was the shadow that he was no more visible.
- But I heard the lute lively discoursing through the blue still air.**"
This stream of verses (for the last three days) are incredibly moving to me.
As for today's... the meaning seems to me to be self-evident, and I feel the resistance of writing the obvious, but shall go for it anyway. Don't we all have a pale, sad, weeping boy inside of us? I'm sure I do. A mixture of innocence and hurt, confused and lost... This is aside from the evident metaphor of any sorrowful part of us that has "lost our music," found ourself without our joy (though it be only a few inches from our fingers).
Then descends the Holy Spirit, the LVX of sacred touch. In its approach we may see nothing but the shadow, huge as the One touching us is vast. The shadow, er, foreshadows the touch. - And when it connects, we are uplifted, as if born into the heavens totally, joyously going (like this Ganymede) to serve the greatest of the gods (here symbolized as Jupiter). In an instant, we find our joy, find our song, and it sings.
(I almost missed the reference to the still air - the mind brought to complete stillness.)
As I warned... stating the obvious.
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It's not a perfect fit, but it reminded me of the pedestals that the Zoroastrians use for their dead.
en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tower_of_Silence -
30. I saw a pale sad boy that lay upon the marble in the sunlight, and wept. By his side was the forgotten lute. Ah! but he wept.
31. Then came an eagle from the abyss of glory and overshadowed him. So black was the shadow that he was no more visible.
32. But I heard the lute lively discoursing through the blue still air.@Jim Eshelman said
"As for today's... the meaning seems to me to be self-evident, and I feel the resistance of writing the obvious, but shall go for it anyway.
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As I warned... stating the obvious."I am subject to something similar.
I confess a real lack of trust in the obvious, in addition to plain old disdain! I feel, in those situations when the obvious is so overwhelmingly obvious, if I can just hold off making judgments, asking questions I don't have the answers to, I am better off because some day I will have accumulated the experience needed to begin to make sense of the reality without the limitations of thinking in commonplace cliche. By stating an obvious sentiment I become anxious and suspect I am not thinking, not looking into, not opening myself in truth—I have shut off from experience with a word or phrase.
I'm curious to what extent the eagle can be a feminine symbol?
Not that there is any real connection, but often my dreams will suggest an approach to the selection of the day. Your comments reminded me that a troubled youth ended the night. But before that moment there were many images, so many they defied my usual symbolic analysis and hung together as a 'deluge' of mostly women and feminine encounters—water, death, instruction ,and adventure. At the end of which a meeting was contrived by these women where I met and decided to take into my protection the youth—a young man—a mixture of Ablus and Puer energies—fair and troubled.
Love and Will
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"I'm curious to what extent the eagle can be a feminine symbol?"
In some contexts (esp. alchemical), it certainly is.
In this case, the text has always seemed to me to be the story of Ganymede, which would make the eagle Jupiter/Zeus. That leads the path my mind went down. (I even see the eagle as blue, I just realized! <g>)
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(by the way, if reading through something in one sitting is like taking a train through a countryside; then this daily meditation is like walking. Liber LXV definitely reveals a lot more on foot)
The phrase "abyss of glory" caught my attention.
From Emma Lazarus' poem, The Birth of Man
www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-birth-of-man
"From the abyss of glory rang the voice:
'From heaven to earth, from earth once more to heaven,
Shall Truth, with constant interchange, alight
And soar again, an everlasting link
Between the world and sky.'
And man was born. "From Liber Liberi vel Lapidis Lazuli
"20. Thou hast stirred in Thy sleep, O ancient sorrow of years! Thou hast raised Thine head to strike, and all is dissolved into the Abyss of Glory"
And from Mather's Kabbalah Unveiled
"I can only say, in the words ot an ancient oracle: "In Him is an illimitable abyss of glory, and from it there goeth forth one little spark which maketh all the glory of the sun, and of the moon, and of the stars. Mortal! behold how little I know of God; seek not to know more of Him, for this is far beyond thy comprehension, however wise thou art; as for us, who are His ministers, how small a part are we of Him!""
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So it's probably a bit early for this, but here's a random thought:
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pale sad boy = Crowley when he's in the middle of going mad - dealing with the problems of the Ruach - in so much that his mind has been brought to the limits of it's power (sunlight), but it still is insufficient (nothing is connected necessarily, all impressions, etc). By his side is his forgotten lute - his faith, and inner song, going through a testing while he deals with mind (marble).
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He crosses abyss and becomes NEMO. He is no longer visible because Crowley has been destroyed and there is only VVVVV who takes up that vacuum of space. Eagle = highest form of Death card.
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Crowley gets his path back, his voice back, he backs up off a cliff and survives and says, Eureka, I have a purpose... he rediscovers his BOL while searching for skiis and says Eureka I have a purpose... and for Crowley that path was as a Teacher... (when he's kicked out of Binah - his karma lands him in Chesed)... notice the air is still (so there are no sound waves as such) but he hears the lute (inner song).
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Dueling Images vs. Resonant Images.
30. I saw a pale sad boy that lay upon the marble in the sunlight, and wept. By his side was the forgotten lute. Ah! but he wept.
31. Then came an eagle from the abyss of glory and overshadowed him. So black was the shadow that he was no more visible.
32. But I heard the lute lively discoursing through the blue still air.Compare today's meditation with some images from a meditation I had not to long ago:
I find that I am the base of a great enthroned figure towering above me into the black starless night; the sense of mass and magnitude of this figure is staggering. This darkness, that moments before were as I had just described it—like folds of heavy black fabric, turn out to be the actual hem of the figures robes, muffling all sound and light. Gazing up I realize this figure is the Titan/Goddess Themis! The utter black, deepest shadow beneath her throne and under her skirts beckons me and I enter into it finding myself engulfed in an absolute black except for one little light which is me. I realize that the light that is myself is dwindling and I thoroughly expect I will soon 'go out.'
I don't imagine this experience explains today's meditation, but it is suggestive. I can list the differences and the similarities. For one thing, the feel is totally different—the passage from Liber LXV being expansive, even the part about the shadow, while my image is totally oppressive. Still, the very notion of being engulfed by a shadow, and of disappearing is not so very common that I feel I can just let it pass without some comment.
It seems images want to talk to each other, reflect parts of other images back to us. Hillman asserts that images and psychic energy are two opposing poles of the same thing—the image is just a pattern that focuses the energy being expressed. If this is so then it is significant, and not just a coincidence, when two or more images cause each other to light up as it were. My question is purposefully vague and has to do with the relative value of this kind of thing.
This thing is not specifically about the connections between the two narratives above—mine and Crowley's. It is about the more general observation that this kind of thing happens, a lot, and I'm wondering what value it has. I am also concerned about the damage it might do.
One one level I am aware that I am making connections. And while I am not sure where this kind of connectedness will lead, I am of the general opinion that this is a good thing. Making connections is good because it personalizes your relationship with the original image, and this intimacy could be the basis for a bridge-type of experience, allowing for a fuller involvement in primary image. It's a way in.
At the same time, I can imagine the possibility for mischief, the primary image being twisted and distorted—contaminated by the relationships forged with similar images from ones own psyche. This can become a barrier instead of a bridge, fortifying the mind, making it insular.
Thoughts, help?
Love and Will