(When asked often lately, how to survive as a mystic in today’s secular world, sometimes the questions just need a repetition of previous work. I edit for space.)
Previous entry the Teacher speaks. . .
When your mentor, the Nazarene, thought man should be accountable, he did not wish for man to keep coming back and lamenting his ancestor’s anguish and never lift himself out of his mire. He wished for every lifetime to be accountable.
This is what making a difference is all about. Not to become responsible for our ancestor’s inability to fulfill dreams. Nothing can be done except by those who tied the knots. The ones who did not meet obligations are needing forgiveness by their progeny. There are enough worlds for this to happen in.
Let their gods work it out and take them as responsibility. It is not for the child to undo the parent’s tribulations. Let the children be free to make a difference and the whole planet will survive as well as the people in it. It will be a classroom of supreme order and not the hellish place it is today.
Continuing that entry I wrote. . . Like Machiavelli’s letter to Vettori, I put on my evening clothes (which in my case were flannel pajamas, ) and went to my table of books where I sat with my teachers of yore. I, too, was lovingly received by them, where I pestered with arguments the injustices done to my world. And answered by reason what their arguments were for the day.
I was revived in mind and attitude and went into sleep preparing again for the day’s events. Like Machiavelli, the starving mind of me was fed and feasted on thoughts designed for the credentialed. I was taught what no university could or was able to teach. And given information only the gods in their compassion were able to garner and assimilate.
With understanding of the behaviors of peoples never to be voiced and nor even easy to live with. It brings to mind the understanding of the word ‘expert’ the fledgling grandson in his growing knowledge of new words announced at dinner, ‘expert is a person who knows too much.’ And I followed with ‘and has nowhere to go.’
July 14, 2019. . .added notes today. . .for those who question how possible to live today like this. There were those who say my life was not normal and neither were my interests. All lives are different in ways peculiar to others. I came with an open head and one foot dragging in the world I came from before I was born.
Married young, we were of moderate means with no money for household help so I raised our children, and in the vernacular, I painted and papered and mowed lawns and did yard work and appeared in public; an average life with no appetite for frolicking.
One does not need to take to the woods, (I sorely wanted to) nor to the mountain top. Those are within. But heaven does heed the crash at the gates.
Often with a ‘well, look who’s here!’ So the journey begins.