C. JoyBell C.'s Blog, page 32

         There needs to be a silence within your mind, your spirit, your soul. There must be an epicenter filled with silence, wherein you can hear clearly the directions given to you, hear the instructions of your teachers so you can see clearly which paths are yours to take. This silence must be kept in focus at all times, this place must never be filled with noise. What is noise? Noise is the relentless seeking of pleasure, the promise of pleasure that the world offers, the laughter, the distractions, the unreal things that are presented to your eyes and other senses. Noise is the overstimulation of the senses which is a poisoning, an intoxication. This is all light. In the light there is noise and that is why too often the lights in your life are turned off in order to recreate that initial silence and in these instances, unfortunately, pain and hurt become your teachers. Loss and lack become your guides. Because when the lights are turned off, you begin to reach out and grasp, you finally begin to try to see, try to listen! Darkness recreates that silence. But it doesn't need to be that way! You can keep your quiet in focus, always. You can keep that place where the noise is not let it, where the illusions and the distractions cannot find their way into. The emotional provocations can't find their way in there. That room of indifference, that room of silence, that room of power. If you keep that inside you always— even when the lights are on— then no one needs to come in and turn the lights off for you. You can choose your teachers, we choose our teachers! We can choose whether pain teaches us or joy teaches us, whether hardship teaches us or gentleness teaches us. Darkness comes to wake us up to the silence; but we can stay awake even in the light, we can choose not to be intoxicated, we can choose not to be poisoned, we can listen always, in the quiet within, to the voices of our teachers, directing us onto which paths to take, showing us the signs. You keep on inviting darkness into your life by being a slave to pleasure and stimulation, by being a slave to your reactions to stimuli. Stop it now— it is time to wake up to silence.
         In the midst of your laughter, in the midst of your joy and light— there must be a hollow place, a place of absolute indifference, a place where you are immovable. In the midst of laughter and mirth— hear the quiet voices of your teachers— the ones that lead you, guide you, show you the signs, the directions, the paths which are yours to take.
         Pleasure must be something that is beneath your will-power, that is beneath your ultimate call, that is beneath your silence, something which does not direct nor control your senses. The man who is weak in his senses is held back by these, is prisoner to these. The person who is provoked by outward stimuli is prisoner of this world and of other people; while the master is the one who commands his feelings and his senses. Do not be prisoner to your flesh; but may your flesh follow your will and be guided by your soul.

       

         I am always watching people playing games with each other. In fact, they have mottos for it: "If you play me, I'll play you harder", "Don't play a game with one who plays it better", "Don't play a game with the one who invented the game", "I can play your game" and so on and so forth. Blah blah blah. Ways that people make themselves feel, well, "on top of their game."
         I, however, do not play games with people. Ever. Interestingly, it is the only "game" that people don't know how to play! Because people actually don't know how to not play games. So the art of not playing a game with someone— actually becomes the art that nobody else around has mastered. Maturity is the realization that life is in fact not a game, that people's stories are sacred and are not to be trifled with, knowing that as you put out there; so you shall reap.
         My motto is this: I will not play your game; I will put an end to it.

         The manipulative person is the ultimate coward. When you want something, it takes things like perseverance, will-power, bravery, sincerity, truth and honor to make that thing happen, to make that thing materialize into a reality. Manipulation is the tool of the coward because through it he constructs ways to get what he wants without the use of any of the things that he is not brave enough to produce from within himself. And why do those materials like perseverance, will-power and etc. require courage to bring forth? Well they are not easy to come by, in the first place. Moreover, you have to truly face the possibility of failure when striving to achieve these things in oder to reach what you want. Facing the possibility of failure is the ultimate act of courage. The manipulator cannot face that possibility and that is why he takes all of his ulterior routes to get the things that he wants! Routes that do not require anything magnanimous of himself. He knows not courage, he knows not inner strength, he has no honor, he cannot even see his own reflection when he looks into the mirror. He sees a reflection of all the things he has patched together, like a collage of cut-outs from magazines stuck onto a cardboard on the wall— it is not himself, but it is what he wants to think of himself as. This is yet another form of cowardice! The inability to look at oneself in the mirror for who he or she truly is. Why this fear? Because to look at one's true reflection would be to see all the things that one doesn't want to see— to see the truth. Only the courageous can face their own demons and look them in the eyes, subdue them by knowing them and command them by name.
         The manipulator never really gets anything he really wants. And why? Because everything that he does get is not what he really wants. He does not know what he really wants, because he does not even know himself. And so there are things raked in through manipulations— all of these things fall down into a dark hole, a pit, that cannot ever be filled. Not until the curtains of cowardice are pulled back.

       

         Beyond objectification and sexualization lies the sublime beauty, form and purpose of the female body. I admire the man who is cultured enough to appreciate this; I appreciate the man who, upon looking at the female form, sees it not merely for the exoteric but also for the esoteric nature of what it is; the man who gazes upon the female and sees her for her sublimity and purpose, in her state of godhood. I appreciate the man who looks upon a woman and sees a companion, a better half. 
        Istvan Kerekes photography (click photo to redirect) In this world that we live in, the "appreciation of the female form" is maligned in the minds of too many men to mean something which it is not. To "appreciate woman" means pornography, means objectification, means the more women the better. The godhood in man has been lost and along with it, the reign of woman is also now long gone! Empty shells see nothing else but empty shells and appreciate nothing else but the reflection of emptiness projected from their own nature.
         In this world that we live in, the woman sees herself as something which must be satisfactory to man; not something which must be satisfactory to herself and to her own standards. The woman today has no standards; her standards are whatever he wants! The once goddess has become now merely mortal, slave to her mortal counterpart. 
         I see a world wherein goodhood reflects upon godhood and sublimity radiates upon sublimity. I see a world where man is not rat, is not donkey, is not pig. I see a world where woman is not subdued, is not sex toy, is not a mere thing. This world that I see is one we do not live in, is air we do not breathe, is vision we do not have. How can we breathe to life from a breath that is not there, create reality from vision that does not exist? But, alas, you now have the breath, you now have the vision! Go forth! 

         What is beauty? In this day when everything and everyone is clamoring for attention, recognition, remembrance and reverence... beauty is what makes the noise go away. Beauty is what makes the noise fade into the background, calls you by your native name and in your mother tongue, woos the threads of your soul and then weaves them together. Beauty is what makes the lies go away and makes everything that is not truly beautiful— fade away. Beauty is sublimity, it is constant, it is an eternal breath. Immovable. Forever. It is the unceasing pattern which designs itself into an invincible quilt that is the true fabric; while all else is simply an accent, a vandalism, a passing thing. Beauty is remembered when it is not seen just as much as it is thought of when it is seen. Beauty is almost nothing of all the things that you see on a daily basis! Many of the things you call "beautiful" are a blasphemy. And yet, she lingers in places where you would not look for her! Alas, beauty is only for the eyes that are worthy of her! Her presence alone calls upon reverence, her breath on the air is the cause of things most sublime. And yet she barely knows of her own stature; lowly, she enters into the quietest of recesses, the indwelling where most would tend not to look! She will not be found amongst the noise made by those who seek attention, for those sounds are a wreckage to her serenity. She cannot be found amongst those who shout from the rooftops, for those calls are hellish to her senses. But she will walk by one day. And you will remember her forever after that. Once she has touched your life, her fingerprints are unfading.

         There is something peculiar to the human species which is, well, very peculiar. And that is how people only realize the value of a thing or another person, when those things or other people are gone! And this is very strange because, well, why do people see things when they are no longer there and then not see them while they are there? Amongst all the Angels and Elementals and Gods and Creatures, I believe this trait to be particular to the human race. It's a weirdness, a strange phenomena. To see a thing that is not there and then to not see it while it is there! But then I also think that this has something to do with why God finds humans lovable! I mean, it must have something to do with it! I think it also serves as a peephole into the incurable faith of humanity; a faith which it strives so hard to deny and to overcome! Faith, I think, is at the very roots of the human species, and just like what is professed on a daily basis (as I have noticed), people will always deny and try to overcome what is innately theirs. And yet they will definitely find it to be incurable (much of the time.) You see, to believe in what is not there is faith. It is the innate knowledge and wisdom and awareness of the fact that what is unseen is superior to what is seen. Unfortunately, this innate inner pull towards faith manifests itself blindly through other things, (like a ghost who has no memory and yet it dances in the ballrooms of its past life)— in our relationships, our experiences and moments that we make in life... I believe this is due to the fact that human beings experience sorrow and misery due to vacancy. There is a vacancy left open which is supposed to be filled with fire! With the original spirit, the original flame! Then it is because of this vacancy that we experience the misplacement of our faith and continue to seek what is not there, without appreciating what is there! What an extremely unfortunate thing! Faith unrequited! Unrequited faith, unexpressed faith, this is the thing that is the most unfortunate state for one to be in! The lurking and the seeking and the lunging forth of a raw and original nature of the human soul and mind— reaching out, grasping, in all of the wrong places! This is akin to a woman who seeks for love in the streets, roaming around at night, not really knowing where to look... not realizing that what she seeks for, she bears in her own heart and soul.
          I believe that specific vacancy must be filled with that initial fire, that aboriginal spark! The primeval flame. Imagine a filled vessel, a human form filled to the brim with its primitive nature, its archetypal existence! There would be no more room left for arms to go groping in the dark, in the dark and cold waters, rummaging for whatever could save a life! For whatever could fill the void...


I want to leave you with a Youtube video which has suddenly come to mind at this moment, I feel it will bring answers, as well as more questions and that it can begin to fill your own void right now. Please enjoy it:

               I am a woman of science. I study astronomy as well as the sciences of geography, people, animals, food... where there is something to learn— there you can find me! And what I have learned is that science is inferior to magic. What we think we know today in science— ten years from now we prove as wrong! We only think we know these things, the facts of these things, but the truth is that, all that we really know are the names we have ourselves given to things! We observe things as they already are. These things, these natural laws that have already been around, since the time before we were born! Before the founding father of the atom named an atom as an "atom", the atom was already there. Nobody made the atom happen. The atom does not belong to any scientist! It just so happens that someone named it an atom! And so the scientist goes through life, naming things, in order to tell a story. And what story is this? It is the story of why and how things are the way they are. It is just like religion. Science and religion strive to do the same thing; the difference is that the two speak an entirely different language! One of numbers, algorithms, equations; the other of stories, legends, ballads and song! Both desire to explain nature, the laws of the universe and the governing traits that dictate why your life is useful!           Magic is the same yesterday, as it is today. The magic of thousands and thousands of years ago, is not less potent today, is not disproved today! It is the same yesterday, today and forever. I put my trust in magic.

         Celibacy during magical initiation is a must. All initiates of the ancient schools of magic needed to be celibate until mastery. Today I would like to discuss the reason behind that because it is as relevant now as it was a thousand years ago.
       
         Our sexual fluids are our most concentrated form of flesh and soul and spirit and mind— all together. Sharing this fluid with someone, gives to them the potency of all that (your spirit, mind, soul, flesh). But you are not just giving yourself; you are also receiving from the other! It is a lot more than what you think it is. You are taking into yourself the attributes of the other person, as well as dividing your own attributes to give to them. Now stop to think if the fabric of the substance of that other person is something you want to add to the fabric of you! Because like it or not, that's what happens.
         During initiation, which usually lasts a year or longer, the aspiration is to develop the magic to the highest degree, meaning you will need all of your most potent fluids.
         In promiscuity, it is not so much that you are being "immoral" but it is more that you are removing from yourself, deducting from your destiny. Sure, if every person you sleep with is of magical lineage, then that would be good, but with the percentage of people on Earth who have that, your chances are close to nothing! Promiscuity is a quick way to water down your own attributes;  it is like you're burning your own self at the stake!


Who is the magician?
   
"They are without fears and without desires, dominated by no falsehood, sharing no error, loving without illusion, suffering without impatience, reposing in the quietude of eternal thought... a Magus cannot be ignorant, for magic implies superiority, mastership, majority, and majority signifies emancipation by knowledge. The Magus welcomes pleasure, accepts wealth, deserves honour, but is never the slave of one of them; he knows how to be poor, to abstain, and to suffer; he endures oblivion willingly because he is lord of his own happiness, and expects or fears nothing from the caprice of fortune. He can love without being beloved; he can create imperishable treasures, and exalt himself above the level of honours or the prizes of the lottery. He possesses that which he seeks, namely, profound peace. He regrets nothing which must end, but remembers with satisfaction that he has met with good in all. His hope is a certitude, for he knows that good is eternal and evil transitory. He enjoys solitude, but does not fly the society of man; he is a child with children, joyous with the young, staid with the old, patient with the foolish, happy with the wise. He smiles with all who smile, and mourns with all who weep; applauding strength, he is yet indulgent to weakness; offending no one, he has himself no need to pardon, for he never thinks himself offended; he pities those who misconceive him, and seeks an opportunity to serve them; by the force of kindness only does he avenge himself on the ungrateful..."-The Threshold of Magical Science

         Magic is the ancient flame, the true religion, the original spirituality, the original fire. If you search for spirituality from hundreds of years ago— what you will find is magic. You won't find manuscripts about religion like today; but you will find manuscripts of magic. Even if we look at the story of the birth of Christ, we will see, that it was the Magi who brought the Christ precious gifts, it was they who predicted his birth by reading the skies (astrology) and it was they who found him. Who are the Magi? The Magi are of the original lineage of what we now call The Rosicrucians. What and who are these people? These people are the keepers of magical, mystical secrets. The laws of nature. And I say "nature" instead of "supernature" because magic is actually the supernatural knowledge of what is simply natural. To see what is natural with eyes uncovered, to see what is natural with supernatural eyes— is to see magic!
   
        I suppose they began burning magical people at the stake in order to eliminate the magical bloodlines. Some would argue that these bloodlines come straight from Angelic bloodlines (from the time when Angels mated with women.) And sometimes I stop to ask myself Why? But then in a split second I realize that the answer to "why" is so simple! A magical blood could not be controlled! Could not be overpowered! Whoever was to come into power would need to subdue such people.        
         Long before there was religion; there was magic. And wherever we look into the past, back into the roots of this ancient flame, we will find black propaganda against it. Black propaganda trying to make us believe that the magical were baby killers and murderers, who sacrificed innocent lives on altars! This is so far from the truth. This is only what we hear in the modern day, we hear this from propaganda; but the truth is far detached from what we are told. It is religion which has murdered all throughout history, and these are known facts; not just stories created by the analyses done by modern people of long ancient languages and forms of art!
         I can imagine that if religion had not come in to subdue the magical; today we would probably look like those places we now like to call "Middle Earth!" And I find that thought to be more appealing than the skyscrapers and the wars that we have today.
       

Easter was my favourite Holiday as a child. I got to dress up really pretty, with white lace gloves, ribbons in my hair and on my socks and around my dress! I always just felt so very pretty come Easter time and the candies and the multi-coloured, beautiful eggs were simply divine! There was always a sublimity, I felt, about Easter that couldn't be found around other Holidays.

My most profound Easter memory is one that runs deep and that you would probably appreciate me sharing with you. You'll probably say you've learned something at the end of this article. I learn something and remind myself about what I have learned, every time that I recall this single Easter memory. It is definitely worth the share.

It was an Easter egg hunt at church. All of us Sunday School kids needed to find the hidden Easter eggs, tucked away in secret by our Sunday School teacher. Now listen closely here... while I was excited to begin the egg hunt, I was also mortified. I wanted to be just happy; but I couldn't be. And then everything around me seemed to turn to slow mo. Slow motion. The laughter of my classmates, the excitement all around— there was a sick feeling in my stomach. I somehow knew that I would find all the eggs immediately, leaving nothing at all for any of my classmates. That knowledge alone, for some reason, made me feel almost guilty! Like I was about to do something very wrong because I knew that they would all end up feeling very disappointed if all the eggs happened to go to me!

"On your mark! Get set! Go!" And everyone ran screaming around the church grounds! I just began to walk slowly, picking up the eggs around, it was way too easy for me and I really didn't even have to look for them, at all! So I walked very slowly, while everyone else ran around frantically! Then it happened! I saw the most beautiful Easter egg, EVER! It was pink and covered in pink glitters! It was right there in front of me! Right there, just right there in front of me! It was too easy! And I stood there and I wanted it so bad! But I wouldn't reach out for it! As I was just about to reach out for it— BAM! A screaming, giggling girl came hurdling by, snatched it up and it was gone forever! Then everything turned to slow mo all over again. Now I felt sick for cheating my own self out of what could have been mine!

I really, really wanted that Easter egg but it's a loss that I will never be able to take back. Unless I somehow go back in time and change what happened, but, that's not the point. The point is what I keep on learning and reminding myself of, from that day. You see, in life, I keep dumbing myself down, wearing myself out, pulling on myself downwards in order to accommodate those around me. And I know that sounds arrogant; but the whole point is for me to just accept that. Because it needs to end. I need to stop doing that. I need to stop letting other people take away my Easter eggs. I need to stop cheating my own self out of the things that I really want to have.

I feel like Elijah Mikaelson in Vampire Diaries, in that scene where he tells his brother Klaus, "If insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different result each time, then I, in my 1000 years of trying to redeem you, have been insane! But from now on, I am putting an end to this. From now on, I take what is mine. I take what I want." (Something like that) Because really, all I have been doing is the same thing over and over again, expecting something different every time. Expecting people to be kinder next time, expecting them to understand next time, expecting them to not be so selfish, to not be such liars! But of course, I always get the same result from people. At the end of the day— the person I should be redeeming from this world is myself. I wasn't born for the benefit of everyone around me.

It was the same story in sports as I was growing up. I could always run faster and jump farther. I thought I was weird. So I always stopped on the tracks and waited for the others to catch their breath so we could begin running again, altogether this time. I wouldn't jump as far as I could so that my reach wouldn't be too obvious. I wouldn't read in public (but that was because of a different reason; that was because I was just really shy). But the bottom line is: I conformed to everyone around me. I mindfully and purposefully conformed. And that is my biggest mistake in life. Because when you are given a gift, you are supposed to be thankful for it and use it. You're not supposed to hide it under the bed and think that it's weird.

I hope that this Easter story of mine will hit somewhere close to home, in your mind and heart, serve as a source of inspiration and courage for you, and maybe (just maybe) I can stop any other child out there, who is just like how I was, from making the same mistake that I did that Easter Sunday (and again and again after that.) Don't make my mistake. Be what you are.