The more common place it becomes to express our confusion over the opposite sex, the more imminent change approaches the equinox of our sacral chakras. Evil and its equal amount of Good ruptures out of the sacral cup and spills all into Creation by such sexual ecstasy.
Such a title I give this article to attract attention to this most uncomfortable sense of self-realization, and that is of our own personal hellish roots. Everyone of us prefers to blame everything else but the actual blunt reality of our own nature. Freud attempted to decipher this paradox, but while he came close to it, he had only caught the angle of the inverted World that snakes its way into our conscious living here on Middle Earth. However, just as our sexual thirst drives the things we experience, so does those lofty tree branches atop Yggdrasil, the legendary Tree of Life, whereby our desire for purity and blameless attitudes extract those vapors from the boiling waters way beneath and into the misty clouds of Heaven to be the dreams of tomorrow…
Perhaps the inverted Tree is simply our lovely dreams translating into purely sexual existence where those reptilian thorns crown our head? And perhaps Freud had only meant to capture the mind of the secret cabal that governs the order of World society? In this way, the ultimate orthodox religion adorns this Reality and anoints the dedicated with fame, fortune, and glory.
These roots here are the herbs that are burned to fuel the magic of the heavens above. Betwixt the ultra solid and the ultra gaseous states, a spark of life passes through the portal and onto the Earthly threshold of oceanic liquid. In the womb, we find the perfect vibration of Reality, 432 Hz, that merge these radical Feminine and Masculine forces into the material.
Though my point here is that often we see many folk who genuinely seek transformation and positive change in their lives, whether that be in the form of attracting a lover, pregnancy, family, money to start their business, travel, a strong and happy community, beauty, achievements, etc., yet the Universe has seemed to deny them this great benefit. Why? Because everything starts in the roots. Everything must grow from a seed, and that seed may grow as slowly or quickly as you like. It simply depends upon your attitude. Will you reach down to the bottom-most pits of your own personal Hell to retrieve the key of transformation you need to unlock the opportunity you seek? Is it honestly worth that much to make such an epic journey? Frodo Baggins thought so. Persephone thought so. Hermod thought so. Christ thought so. And yet we weep because we desire something so much without putting in the effort to manifest it, and thus we build an illusion to suffice our appetites.
And illusions are so deliciously convincing that they can even hide within the walls of the label known as “fact”. “Fact” is only the witnessed existence of something, the very nature of the quantum physical world. So by this logic, we may introduce whichever idea or creation into reality and, once it is witnessed, it will become fact and given the honor of legitimacy.
And so, to erect the pillars we need to commit our Selves to the changes we seek, we must dive down deep into the loveless, murky waters of our Soul and pull the thorn that infects that aspect of our Self that prevents the attainment of that change. This can only be a genuinely honest change of attitude that will only be fully understood when we enter what is called the “dark nights of the Soul” because it requires intense, most sharply realistic self-reflection to penetrate that polluted vessel.
Though the pain is incredible, equally the relief of the thorn’s removal will return you home with not only good health, but also with much clearer vision and the rewards you had first sought. As Aquarian Dorothy had sought her home, Scorpio the Scarecrow had sought a brain, Taurus the Tin Man had sought a heart, and Leo the Lion had sought courage. A long journey pays off, not just with what we see, but also what we KNOW and FEEL.
Oz rests as that seat of this magic in the realm of the Dead, that place between the veils shrouded in white mists, that realm we have brought into our conscious language as Hy-Brasil, Śvetadvīpa, Albion. The mistical Island of White where an ocean of milk provides sustenance for all whom gather. The White Light doth shine brightly onto death. And this Yule as it is for every Winter Solstice marks the time of the reborn Sun King, the illuminator of the hologram, the laser that beams light through a lens to give Reality its dimensions.
May the Winds have your back traveler, and I bid you all a very merry white Yuletide.