Third-Eye Reflections
When we tell ourselves to calm down, relax, take a few deep breaths it is from the foundation of inner wisdom we do so. Only in stillness may we reflect the true image of who we are. Only in meditation will we hear what is right action.
To practice spirit-beholding in tranquility of thought is what it’s all about. Neither philosophy nor ritual can replace that. It’s a question of sitting. Often sitting it out.
In a state of rest or emptiness, as a beggar in spirit, the holy grail is replenished. Your heart sings its true note.
The sounding bowl never lies.
This is not to deny reason or the mental activity of creative man. But look, if the world wasn’t created by a brain, let’s also not over-estimate all the head can do by way of party-tricks.
If this reflective organ shows up what has already been done, the manifest in its form, then what organ is responsible for the seed-idea contained with in it?
Thank you for that bit of calming wisdom. :)
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For the unusual beginning time of the relationship between my man and me, I had at times the tickling feeling in my forehead, which I found called the third eye or forehead chakra. It was sexual energy that centered there and I found myself in a state of indescribability. I still wonder, was this imagination? I had not searched for it and wondered about this sensation. No human word can describe this impression. The experience eludes a formulation. Nevertheless, I suspect that due to the unfamiliarity and unusualness of such experiences (we women have always spoken differently about our sexual experiences and escapades), but never in the sense of a spiritual kind. So I don't want to exaggerate it. I wondered if this might have helped me to mature. On the one hand I think: Yes. It's really difficult to get a grip on it.
The female body as a receiving vessel - that can be one of the most impressive and unforgettable moments in a woman's life.
All the spiritual doctrines I have encountered so far contradict this. Sexuality is not recognized as a spiritual act anywhere and is only treated as such in novels and human fantasy.
It is as if one were to decide that the toe that tested the water should be followed by the whole body and the whole spirit. The water too hot to endure and yet the surprise that it works. Pain and joy mix to a unity, cannot be separated from each other.
I feel reminded of the mists of Avalon. The music is spherical and as if not from this world. And yet it is.
There, where there is no sound, no colour, no light, no stars, there is the complete opposite of everything we perceive, so it says. Already the universe seems to be a foretaste of the great nothingness, because it is devoid of any sounds.
Thanks for that sounds.
Maybe I also will have a look at the 42 Letter Name of God.
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I have plenty of sources for you! In varying degrees of mystic practice... My own work spins around it. I find it a sacred core.
Having said that, I was in a feminist mood today and felt that the brah-burning women of the seventies were not so wrong (normally I find them a bit hysterical). I came across a description of a book (in a bibliography compiled by Anne Carson, poet b. 1950),
which did not strike me too exaggerated. It was one of those days when I realised (to my shock and horror, for I generally give the male the benefit of the doubt) that women are (still/again?) massively disrespected or repressed in so many ways (that are so normal we don't even notice). The sex-drive in men is fundamentally repulsive to me - it has leaped over to women now - when it is some kind of magnified animal base instinct that is aroused by the most superficial programming. Where it is not tamed, reigned and sanctified (by love) I shall preseve a bad after-taste for anyone who acts upon it.
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