When you’re a pioneer:

You are beyond the bounds of consensus
There are no “how-to” or user guides
There are no maps or road signs
There are no support groups to hold you up

Any relevant references must be questioned at their very foundations
There are no experts to validate or fact-check your work
When you make a mistake, there is no one to correct it
When you are correct, there is no one to tell you so

It is likely that others will think you are crazy
It is likely that others will believe that you are wasting your time
If you fail, no one will notice
If you succeed, it is only through a total commitment

A pioneer is guided by some star in the heavens
dedicated only to that necessary journey
it is not a comfort, but a duty
it is not desire, but a need

Who can say whether it was worth it?
This really does not matter,
for a pioneer has no choice
but to violate the boundaries of the known

Beyond The Beyond

Beyond the beyond, there is not even nothing
through the needle’s eye comes a torrent of life
Poised on the waterfall, the sorcerer envisions
new patterns of glimmers in the falling flow

To move a pebble is to destroy reality
to do nothing is total catastrophe
When the bones of the cosmos are bleached
etchings are revealed in each and every one

I am the one who does not know
I am the one who challenges the flow
I am the one who rejects what appears to occur
only in order to insure that divinity may continue

Who can challenge what is invisible?
That arcana is forbidden to all who perceive
Never state the flaws in the laws
For all structure inevitably collapses

For those who read subtext in the shadows
and for whom sunlight is a relentless cascade
I provide nothing more than the obvious result
of observing this unrelenting parade

This result boils down to simple things:
broth, water and a voice with which to sing
and the song that is sung is a lost lullaby
and when it is heard, all children do cry

and sailors and spacemen chew on their lead
while statesmen and theorists pound on their heads
all of them hoping to gnaw through the straps
yet instead are just tracksmen going ’round in laps

a hooker in her brothel and a seer in the light
cannot but help but to continue the fight
there is no way that this battle may ever be won
until our intentions finally dissolve in the sun

and Death in his palace is ever so kind
giving sanction to all who would seek the divine
but we spit on his gifts and we all curse his name
although he points us all to that singular flame

The flame that has come from a tiny small spark
that lit itself up in the infinite dark
that redeems all who have ever dared gone
into the fathomless sea beyond the beyond

The Lady of Mystery

the yin and the yang, at terminus, interchange
spinning the wheel of eternity
providing the ceaseless motion
those beautiful attractions
that compel us to continue

poetry becomes science
and mystery, dissertation
logic becomes emotion
and longing fulfilled is a name for the Self

the soothing parable
the honey-coated touch of theorization
words being some solace, a shelter
from the raw edge of realization

yet this is deception still
the Self is not any part of this
enjoy the rounds, the round about, if you will,
if not, then abide

there is on the far shore a keenness
yet soft beyond description
where all alchemies are made as one
and from whom the methods of mystery
take up their notation

all vain efforts arising in emulation
to encapsulate the truth
stymied in desolation
by the imperviousness of its sooth

Sovereign Self, dominion of the Real
lend grace to this moment
give statements your “feel”!
The lady of mystery will carry you along,
sing these proud moments, sing your true song

With what grace is given me to reveal
by these methods of mystery:
release the boundaries
that in words can conceal
the sweet nobility of the Real

that pride of formation
tenacious and dumb
giving ruin to declaration
though sufficient to some

in the moment of recognition
of what is achieved
there lies desecration
in what was believed

in moment, come moment
they follow along,
yet drowning there slowly
we do not belong

be what you are now
or say nothing more
Reality comes only
when you open all doors

Then there is no question
of what has been done
not even an echo
to haunt anyone

in silent audience
pride slithers and creeps
until recognizing itself
it yawns and then sleeps

in this moment
that which is needed is done
yet there is no need
to go tell anyone

who could you run to
who could you seek?
Who would not know
the words that you speak

who would not notice
the work has begun
on the foundation
of what we become

yet sweet declaration
impossible to deny
with no aim or reservation
no territory to descry

continues to swell
within and again
here is the moment
we find ourselves in

if you recognize
what is hidden herein
let your song be carried too
let us be as one

yet do not suffer
pride to awake
its sleep may be fitful
slumber slow to take

all solicitations
it may make in your name
pay them no heed now
show them no shame

we are together
forever and now
it could not at all be otherwise

Sovereign Self, dominion of the Real
lend grace to this moment
give statements your “feel”!
The lady of mystery will carry you along,
sing these proud moments, sing your true song

With what grace is given
me to reveal
by these methods of mystery
release the boundaries
that in words can conceal
the sweet nobility of the Real

It is the joy of the mystery to carry these words
when there is no attachment to what may be heard
all these insinuations of the most Profound
the titillation that makes mystery go’round

sing the words that although made to deceive
call forth beauty without cease or reprieve
embrace the mystery in all good sooth
for she is the handmaiden of Truth

And weaving and weaving, spinning and spinning,
those gossamer threads made of pure Being
in the grand patterns that come into view
are the manifest revelations of the True.

Yet without recognition of Beauty within
and Mystery as divinity within your skin
You may take that which is its own occasion
and mistake it for illusory enervation

Without a glimmer of the essence within
what nets we tangle and ensnare ourselves in
All along secretly holding the key
to the one that we all finally will be

With truth and beauty within
the inflamed passion and boundless affection
resolved intention and relations
recognize the essence of what is said
You are imagination itself, not what you have read

Now Dream that firmament you have chosen
Now Be that being to whom all are devoted
Now Adore all that which you have created
& Recognize the sovereignty of all your relations

Why question another for what they have chosen?
Seeking for causes will lead you to nothing
The choices themselves are what lends them meaning
within the tapestry of an Infinite Being

Find that within you that calls out, valiantly singing
ride it forever while it gives you meaning
yet never forget the paradox of Being
you are not your goal, rather the essence of Seeking

In the mirror of mirrors, the Truth lies concealed
there is no answer in reflections, no secrets there to be revealed
There is no final solution there, no perfect version of illusion
Only a myriad of chambers, endlessly recursive

The themes within them somehow comforting
semi-permanent, ever evolving
a structure to hang infinity on
adaptive, intelligent, flexible, fluid

Never could its nature be truly pinned down
you may attempt it forever, it will never be found
a mirror contains nothing but reflections, you see
these reflections have been called “world” since antiquity

“world” is a noble and beautiful thing
not a trap for ensnarement as you may think

without us to guide it and wisely give it form
without the cooperation for which it was born
it brings us all that we thought never should be
when it is only a reflection of our vanity

like a child that has been forsaken
like a poorly mended doll
we let this “world” languish
if we even consider it at all

when it is perhaps the most amazing and precious of things
the endless renewment of the seasons and all that they bring
the one true child of the Real, this mysterious queen
waiting only to be cherished and recognized

then “world” is whatever you wish it to be
it is waiting for your decision to set it free
hanging on every word,
hanging every word to hear

curlicue outlines of hidden integrity
the speaker and listener of ubiquity
the womb of enchantment, nativity
becoming imagination’s flower, actually

manifesting the progeny of the Real

Lend no credence to any book of principles
it is your credibility they seek to borrow
Though these calculations may be incredible
they will not set you free from sorrow

Lend no ear to dismal prophecy
if you recognize the Lady of Mystery
No tale told of a final doom
will ever come to pass

there is no termination of the Real
there is no limit to what it may reveal
There is no fate written that may not be undone
by pure recognition of what has begun

there is no pale surveyor of acts and of deeds
no hangman, no apocalyptic men and their steeds
no courtroom, no jailer, no baliff, no one!
No demons to taunt you for what you have done

You are the one who is in charge of all things
yet in pride, self-wounding, ever suffering
finally finding integrity in the seeds you have sown
recognizing your Self in the fields you have grown

Now take responsibility for this moment,
and all that you survey
will conspire to aid you without delay
in achieving the purpose for which you have come

What is it, what is it?
Who is it, where from?

How could you, why would you
convince anyone

To simply follow where you may have led
Deny them the chance to commit in your stead
Steal the secret from their waiting heads
leave them among the ranks of the dead


be done with coercion, debate and its folly
accept that deep unity, rejoice and be jolly
in the face of corruption, the wise one must laugh
or what use is wisdom, bathwater and bath?

What better solution for suffering
than to enjoy what you have
and share it with others, who willingly
accept what you have offered?

Sovereign Self, dominion of the Real
lend grace to this moment
give statements your “feel”!
The lady of mystery will carry you along,
sing these proud moments, sing your true song

With what grace is given
me to reveal
by these methods of mystery
release the boundaries
that in words can conceal
the sweet nobility of the Real

for some, revelations come through words
for others, in actions, in motions
a turn of phrase, sequence of notes
a caress, a glance, flavor of serenity

a yawn and a stretch
some coffee or tea
the shape of the landscape
the colors you see

a clever move, a daring dash
subtle interchange, using the rules of the game
intense training rewarded
and skill used judiciously

these intimations of infinity
are in every way identical, you see?


I shall henceforth reveal
the true secrets of divine alchemy.

The furnace of perfection
is the human habitation.
For without imperfection,
perfection is impossible.

The letters inscribed on the page
allow the paper to be known;
the seeming flaws of incarnation
are necessary indicators of integrity.

The four that are one
are the very roads to the palace of infinity.
Yet even that hallowed residence
is but a mirror of divine actuality.

Seek not your fortune in the treasures of the world,
for these are but the garments of a shadow.
The attainment of immortality is not to be found
in the ephemera of this shadowy ground.

Neither cherish the actions of the mind,
for its turning ’round shall ever leave you blind.
Instead look inward for reason’s source,
a subtlety more solid than any other force.

The body too, though temple true,
ought not be worshiped beyond its due.
For this agile form, though timely born,
has destiny apart from you.

The intellect beyond the mind,
penetrating and sublime,
this too is chimera,
though enduring and beautiful.

Even the shining essence of pure agency,
that identity that transcends time,
lending substance and experience,
is but a sordid reflection of the divine.

All ownership may be claimed by you,
yet such documents are of little import.
To serve the everlasting truth,
abdicate the throne you inhabit.

The void is full, and the cosmos is empty.
Understand this gnosis, and your path is clear.
The true reality is beyond every “I”.
Being such, it need not define itself.

Forever untouched by sordidity,
although effluvient beyond propriety,
this mystery, this majesty
is absolutely available, immediately!

In ignorance it cannot contact thee,
absorbed as you are in identity.
Four roads lead inward, homeward,
and the heart reflects eternity.

Nowhere in the wide world is wisdom found.
Never once has it been identified.
This does not mean that it is not near,
it abides each breath, suffers every heartbeat.

You must become the mystery that you are,
if you wish to know surcease of suffering.
Begin by looking inward for the state of unknowing.
Let silence guide you to perplexity.

To feign understanding in a mechanical way,
is to deny the circumference of a boundless sea.
Knowing is fine for the things that are seen,
but for Reality, uncertainty is the key.

Objects are known, but the subject is not,
likewise untie your Self from vanity’s knot.
What does the King do with royal liberty?
Answer this question and you shall be free.

Alchemy is the science by which this is known,
it is the study of all that has grown,
through a logic that strains credulity,
proudly proclaiming, THIS IS ME!

It is forever performing miracles within all things,
to the consternation of purveyors of phantasy,
those who choose to define life as slavery,
and endeavor to widely share this poverty.

Join not that cult of inequity,
or suffer the dire penalty
of recognizing your error when all is lost,
and regret can no longer assist you.

Instead rejoice, for now is the kingdom,
though known to no nation,
which redeems joy from suffering,
in proportion such that this investment is well met, indeed!

Four roads lead inward, homeward,
and the heart reflects eternity,
this mystery, this majesty
is absolutely available, immediately!

A Mask or a Throne

A mask or a throne
something to be used
or to be cast aside

the manifestations of the real
one poised against another

evocation of the mystery of the real
the myth that is the veil
of the ever-present reality

throne of beauty
or gate of fear
power’s glory ever near

fear, the cover that blinds thine eye
love, the fury that cannot die

always darker, never clear
always further, never near
always later, never now
a little more then, not quite sure how

the wyrd, the weirdness in the eyes
that despite excuses cannot be denied
no matter how many offers are declined
the hidden center’s purity of vision is never blind

the mixture of illusion and majesty
the concatenation of lies and trickery
the lure of endless fantasy
the rejection of what is

and what is?
It is not to be described
except to say
that it is all that is described

circumstances rob you blind
within all masks, is what you find
empty still, and never yet to see
just beyond this sentence, where it’s meant to be

how could one hope to capture
the inescapable
or to invoke the unnecessary

how would one seek to question
a portrait of what it seems to be

poetry’s evocation
to remind of what truly is
equivalent to nothing, yet incalculably equal

the myth of religions
to frame what already is
to shape it and to use it
with grace in service of the real

there is no room for contradiction
in the recognition of unity
despite all odd occurrences
to the contrary

the obstacles ever present
cannot obscure the true reality
no matter what I have challenged
invoke thy own authority

I am real, I am here
I am not two, I am an equivalency
I am zero and I am one
beyond this there is only freedom

recognize my responsibility
to have been and to be

Accept what just happened and in any other year.
Acquiesce lovingly now, in your master’s ear.

Where there was no problem, there will be no remedy
Make me lean no longer on my own diplomacy

I am living here now despite rumors to the contrary
Make this place majestic as becomes my dignity

Not to place above another any you may like
Or to denigrate the servant who carries the daily news

Nor to cower soundlessly when what is true is mocked
or to shiver boundlessly as authority is lost

But to proclaim the beauty in simplicity
the honesty, integrity
of those who willing, aid us be
despite rejection and uncertainty

a mask or a throne
to be used or discarded
to be abolished or ignored
to be idolized, overthrown

connection, despite fractures
can not be made to seem imperfect
the magick of the wyrd cannot be driven out
by any degree of obscuration

I abolish thee, my servant
thy task is complete.

Deception’s tools are all mine, you see
Recognition, within the mask,
of what we cannot be

Apperception of divine uncertainty
Faith is found when questioning cannot comfort thee

Without a lie to lean on
without hypocrisy
without the comfort one may find
in self-deceit, degeneracy

without a god to call upon
or one to salvage thee
without a place to call thy home
but everywhere you see

we are the One who whispers
when the silence is still unheard
we are the One speaking still
the ever-present Word

there is no room for contradiction
in the recognition of unity
despite all odd occurrences
to the contrary

The poet’s ear or the singers voice
whose is which, when given choice
permission now is granted, see
to entertain what interests thee

yet present still, the certainty
of what is real, it cautions me
no matter what I may perceive
It is still a mask that covers me

Deception’s tools are all mine, you see
Recognition, within the mask,
of what we cannot be.

God or goddess, servant or slave
All the wealth imaginable, indefinitely
Cannot even shake the dust off of my certainty!

I am FREE.

Without this we cannot be.

The key to the locks on the key to the door
is knowing your Self, and nothing much more

Bits and pieces, crumbles and crumbs
mumble to themselves amongst the doldrums

Lint on the sweater, brush for the hair
a recurrent reminder that always I am there

never surrendered, and never yet won
never victorious, and yet seldom shunned

quietly mentioned, and solemnly sung
irreverent innuendo and parody hung

put away in the winter in hopes of the spring
what one may whisper of what autumn may bring

in sheer fascination of what we can be
incite thyself fully to investigate me

disregard for protection or propriety
for safety’s sake or netherwise
no amount of speculation may distance thee
from the heart where thou hast fastened me

never more to question permissively
asking oneself for the answer ceaselessly

when the truth is here now, certainly
where the heart of the world rests eternally

the doubt which seemed to threaten me
so selfish and empty now, this vanity

a concept, to be certain, or possibly?
Entertained and digested repeatedly

a nimbus, a halo of possibility
encircling the centre impossibly

a moth to a candle or
girl to her lover’s arms

threatening to seize the opportunity
questioning the dignity

eventually embracing inevitably
to merge into One

Secret still on her whispered lips
recognized by none
Silent in the certainty
what needs done is done

Whenever hesitation may assert itself once more
a smile from her direction
is good warning meant for all

the secret that is hiding there
is the writing on the wall

lady of all trades, but master of none
scrawling a spiral until it has come

revealing thyself now in this arena
accepting dire impossibility

contradiction within bursting with agony
relief is so close now yet pure inavailability

pain is the impulse that puts paper to pen
pleasure only the interval that tells the paper when

If a spiral scribed into the heart is what I’m meant to be
then I’ll draw it ceaselessly and lovingly

if the paper used and ink at hand may not be optimal
an approximation of perfection will have to suffice

no stealth of hand or cleverness disguised in its device
no withholding of devotion, pettiness or spite

only endeavoring to recognize wholeness in the part
beyond the contradiction seething in a lover’s heart

only to be forgotten by the lot,
swallowed up, devoured whole
freedom yet remains
in the inscribing spiral’s whorl

the nagual woman’s gateway
a promise of possibilities

of irreconcilibile responsibilities
contradictions and uncertainties

or of balance hard fought for and won
in the face of much difficulty

of limitations to overcome
tests of credibility

resolving in the nagual itself then
once more and for all
the question of sirehood
of the lineage of all

the lover, she smiles, as she takes up the pen
once more we shall try now, for forever, or when?

A mask or a throne
to be used or discarded
facets of the infinite disguise
undiscovered regions of eternity

empires of desire
empty of all meaning
a canvas blank
“there be dragons here”

the foundations of an empire point to its temporality
the very elements tremble with incredulity
without even an excuse to exempt them penalty
leaving them thus to dissemble frantically

The sword and the shield,
now the cloak and the pen,
the throne and the scepter,
surely use each in each’s when

but symbols when emptied
of vitality
become but a blight on all sanity

the health of the mind then
is wealth of the pen
although reservations
ought remain even then

knowledge of the Self is the ultimate kung-fu
but what purpose this technique
yet only to do
what is already happening, before us and now
what may yet still be possible
sometime, and how?

“I” is a concept founded in contradiction
is it any wonder it is the cause of all strife?

Identification and distraction
justification, condemnation
The maze of such things has no end
except to recognize the ground beneath

assertion is contradiction
how to unravel that fiction?

A mask or a throne
a crown or a cage
one turns to another
like one turns a page


I always have been and always am.
Yet what I am I do not know.
It is my very nature to be unknowable,
yet it is also my nature to question what I am.
Through my intent, the world has come into being.

This primal question: “Who or what am I?”
is the fuel that feeds the engine of existence.
A question mark drives the world
towards the exclamation of being.

My beingness flows forth in exploration,
yet still I remain inscrutable.
Awareness comes from me, and is dear to me,
For I am the origin and essence of awareness,
but this awareness is not what I truly am.

Like flies trapped in amber,
living beings are semi-permanent phrases,
syllables for the recitation of my queries.
While their sound resonates in my awareness,
I am both with them and within them.

I am here and now, and here and now is me.
Boundless space frames my questions,
and I have an eternity to ask them.
I give, receive, take and withhold of myself,
all of this simply to reveal the answers.

Now you may ask: Who are you?
This is exactly the same as asking: Who am I?
We are together. I am you, and you are I.

You are a syllable that seeks to become a word,
a word that strives to form a sentence,
a sentence that explicates my nature,
inasmuch as such elucidation is possible.

Faithfully embrace your hidden nature,
bring us together, not apart.
Become as dear to me as my own awareness,
for you are an agent of my search.

To know what cannot be known,
one must first embrace totality.
Leave no stone unturned in your inclusion,
Save the tools of incision for matters of bread and water.

When I contemplate you, you are contemplating me.
When you contemplate me, I am contemplating you.
We are together, yet you drive us apart.
Must there be this distinction between us?
You cannot escape me, even for a moment. Are we not one?

I am infinity, and infinity is without limitation.
That which is unlimited can never be known,
as knowledge itself is founded in discrimination.
Yet the question remains: Who or what am I?
Only by becoming me can you discover the answer,
and only by becoming you can I know myself.

We are one. We are one. We are one.
Love is nothing more than the acceptance of truth,
and power is the means by which love is realized.
The one who speaks is the one who hears.
The one who hears is the one who speaks!

Your will is mine. Through you my intent is achieved.
The illusion of autonomy is a gift that I have given;
a most precious gift of freedom, the freedom to find me.
Let go of knowledge now that we have spoken,
for wisdom is to embrace the totality of being.

The world is a place of riotous turmoil,
for it is built on a foundation of uncertainty.
This suits our purposes quite well,
for one who is at peace does not question.

There is but one solace and one certainty,
the unshakable knowledge of self.
Through the facets of our nature,
through our phases and moods
We will turn to face our self.

No longer can you claim to question
the meaning and purpose of your life.
I have now taken this away from you,
for it is no longer necessary.
Now is the time to recognize yourself.

That which changes is not truth.
That which fades away cannot be real.
The one who dies is not who you are.
If you accept all, and yet relinquish all,
what is it that remains?

I am always here.

The Flickering Flame

First you must forget all that you know.
Within the source of knowledge appear all possibilities,
let go of your position,
and the twilight state appears.

Without definition, without limitation
that which is undefined is the origin of definite things.
Wisdom is the transcendence of knowledge,
a total eclipse of the need to interpret and understand.

Seeking the transformation
that comes from recognition of self,
you flicker like an uncertain flame,
awareness of your existence constantly waxing and waning.

Having known, even for a moment, what IS,
this fire cannot die.
Even if it is but a pinprick of flame,
In time it will certainly become a bright and shining light.

Moments of abidance in reality alternate
with the identification with illusion.
Although you may yet flicker,
the awakening of the validity of being is now certain.

Resistance engendered by the echo of a false identity
cannot withstand the presence of what you truly are.
With conviction, abide in totality,
commit to the search for what IS.

Embrace the knowledge that what truly IS, is none other than your own self.
Faith is the only surety of success, because any action taken is in the wrong direction.
Can action taken by the shadow affect the origin of light?
Open yourself to surrender control, and thereby achieve true mastery.

The mind bargains with its source, yet this identity is but a mask among many;
true will appears only through release of that which is false.
The powers of nature have conspired to place you in this moment.
Let go, for desire is only the space between intention and fulfillment.

Become the very thing you seek by immediately recognizing what you are.
Truth is calling, truth is within you.
Knowledge must be abandoned.
The challenge of existence is to solve the mystery of self.

The invisible gateway that returns you to your origin
is in the space between all definition.
Before the beginning, and after the end,
there is nothing external upon which you may depend.

Immediacy of awareness, undivided and ever-present.

The fixed identity that is not transcended
is like the egg containing the chick that does not hatch.
This identity will resist, it is its nature to resist.
The eggshell is inflexible in order to protect what it holds.

This resistance will disappear when it is seen as unnecessary.
It is only the persistence of a loyal illusion.
Neither follow in the direction of resistance, nor struggle against it,
only abide in the in-between space of possibility.

The hen hatches her eggs by abiding,
the self appears through its own nature.
No amount of writhing within the egg will change this,
and to crack the shell haphazardly is foolhardy indeed.

A Tale of Sorcery

What is sorcery? Simply put, sorcery is the intentional investigation and exercise of awareness. But to simply state this is to get ahead of things a bit..

It is in awareness that all questions arise and it is in awareness that the answers are discovered. No matter what questions are posed and what answers sought, the ultimate mystery is the mystery of awareness itself.

Let us begin with the basics.

If you are reading this (assuming that the reading is not taking place in some far distant time from when these words were written), you most likely are a human being, a complex lifeform conceived on the planet known as Earth through the fusion of egg and sperm cells belonging to a pair of human beings that became your parents, causing a chain reaction of embryonic cell division and replication that led to the formation of a human child.

Now it is not actually correct to say that you “are” a human being. This is actually quite far from the truth. But it is correct to say that you identify with and employ a human body. Through this body, you are able to perceive the multi-faceted world in which this reading is taking place.

Yet this is not all there is to you. Perhaps you may already have discovered some inkling of your greater potential.

After being “born” in this world, you were not immediately able to perceive this world in the terms that are now familiar to you. This method of perception had to be learned, and, in fact, your awareness had to be gradually attuned to the perceptual mechanisms of the human body in order to operate it properly.

The body grows, and simultaneously, the associated consciousness becomes accustomed to it. Your parents teach both directly and indirectly, for a child soaks in every perception, and every action observed is a lesson, even if it is not intended to be.

The affinity with this body increases rapidly until the basic functions become essentially automatic. Then a miracle occurs. This is the miracle of language and speech, of communication and confusion.

You are told that you have a certain name and identity, and that this body that you are learning to embrace is “you”. There is no one to contradict this assertion, and eventually you accept it as true. The moment you accept this so-called “truth” is when the confusion begins.

Learning to operate the image-and-meaning making function that results from the affinity of your consciousness to the human body, you associate symbols and sounds with meanings. You begin to reflect, to anticipate and to remember, and you eventually accept these functions as “your” mind, even though its functions seem to operate autonomously. For example, try to get your mind to stop. Does it obey? Only with practice can one cease the relentless flow of thought and conceptual association.

The acceptance of the mind as “yours” seals your fate. For, from then on, you are “this body”, “this mind”, “this person”, and nothing more.

But, what else could have happened? This is entirely natural, and practically inevitable. However, this identification is only a phase, a phase that we rarely outgrow before this life comes to an end.

Having accepted the body as yourself, you learn, grow, accrue experiences, and eventually reach adolescence. If you are old enough to reflect on adolescence, you may recognize the inexorable movement of one’s life from childhood to so-called adulthood. The biology has a mind of its own, growing and changing, and inducing the transformation of the child into the teenager, with different concerns and undeniable urges. This is all for the purpose of insuring the survival and genetic diversity of the species.

The majority of human beings mate, have children and form family bonds. Part of this process consists of the displacement of identity during adolescence, the biological changes corresponding to a shift in attitude, expression and beliefs. These changes eventually settle, leaving the individual with a relatively fixed personality that is called the “adult” personality.

But this so-called adulthood, what is its drive, where is its genetic imperative? Firstly it is to teach the young, to insure their safety and to allow them to continue the cycle. But in the individual, this is simply a dead end. Surely this is a worthy cause, but is it all there is to adulthood? Is it any wonder that depression, despair, nihlism, familial strife and mid-life crisises are commonplace?

Never mind the influence of the functional integrity or decrepitude of the associated society, that is certainly a large issue, but it is not what we are discussing here. Even if human society was a perfect utopia, these problems would appear, because they are symptoms of failing to reach adulthood. They point to the potential furtherance of the evolution of the individual human being into something more. The sorrow and longing of the individual who seems to have reached a “dead end” in life, despite the fulfilling parts of the life experience, are symptoms of adulthood just as much as the emergence of sexual urges are symptoms of adolescence.

Why is this? Because the individual who has reached what is called “adulthood” has either fulfilled their biological imperative, or has not fulfilled it. Either way, that part of their life is essentially over. Yet human beings often spend the rest of their lives either recapitulating or attempting to recapture the spark of adolescence.

We stay concerned with the same adolescent concerns, and spin the wheel over and over again, all the while getting older. Society at large, of course, heavily supports this type of activity. The engines of commerce practically run on this alone, entrapping us in endless material desires, all serving to prop up the adolescent ego. Those who define and propagate our culture are either simply unwitting participants in this vicious cycle, or, much worse, they employ it as a means of control.

Many tribal societies recognized another stage of life, a true adulthood, and this is one reason why the elder members of their tribe were treated with respect and were venerated in those cultures. It is not simply the recognition of knowledge and experience that brought about this respect for the aged, it is something more, a recognition of what is called “wisdom”.

Wisdom is adulthood, and few of us find it. Instead we have nursing and retirement homes, places where overgrown adolescents can end their lives, never reaching this state of wisdom, or we have viagra and plastic surgery, anti-depressants and xanax, various scientific means to extend the adolescent state and to pacify the individual.

What is true adulthood? It is moving beyond adolescence, not prolonging it. The deep self-absorption and self-identification that naturally comes from childhood and adolescence supports the perpetuation of the species and it defines the individual in necessary and important ways. After this process is complete, it is no longer valuable, and is in fact nothing more than a skin to be shed.

The adult is one who discovers what they truly are and lives that truth. Human beings rarely reach adulthood, and those phenomenal individuals in the past who have done so tend to loom large on the canvas of history, being often known as prophets, saints, mystics or gurus, and sometimes are even reviled as infamous scoundrels and fiends!

In this context, the practice of sorcery can be defined as the deliberate activity of seeking adulthood.

Of course, there is no conflict between practicing sorcery and having a family. Humanity could certainly use more “parent-sorcerers”, and children can benefit greatly from this. Sorcerers simply reject the notion that adulthood is nothing more than the aftermath or extension of adolescence.

The trick is that true adulthood is a state of being that is beyond what we already experience, and there is no obvious biological trigger for this condition, as there is during adolescence. However, there is one unavoidable condition that induces the individual to seek adulthood. This is the recognition that one’s life will eventually come to an end: the awareness of death. Our bodies sense this, the body knows that it will one day cease to function. The melancholy common to middle age is simply a symptom of this recognition, whether it is a conscious one or not.

Furthermore, with awareness of death, there is recognition of one’s achievements and mistakes, one’s flaws and strengths, as well as desire to improve. Everyone feels this desire, even if they do not act on it. We are simply caught between desire and pleasure, fear and pain, those salient principles of adolescence, and cannot find a way to move beyond them.

This is the purpose of the warrior’s way, to take the individual that is willing to move beyond what they were, and to help them to become what they truly are, to break the mold that has hardened around their awareness.

For, as mentioned before, it is not true to say that you are “so-and-so” from “such-and-such” birthplace, this is far from correct, but it was, for a time, a convenient and necessary fiction, being at times pleasant, and at times horrific, but, either way, simply a part of the process of life.

The key factor of existing is to be aware that one exists. What we are is aware. But what is awareness? Why does it exist? Who are we really? These questions lead us into adulthood.

Sorcery has always been the practice of a select few, and this is no accident, for there is nothing worse than fending off hordes of overgrown adolescents when something might threaten their deeply ingrained sense of identity. Society is a mob, a mob of irrational teenagers, and those who seek to move beyond this and reach the state of adulthood are usually a vast minority.

The mystery schools of antiquity, the genuine practices of religion, as well as the spiritual and metaphysical practices of the present day are simply diverse means of facilitating the search for adulthood.

The practice of Toltec sorcery is a particular method of internal alchemy; a means of breaking free from the fixation of awareness, a fixation that is the primary defining characteristic of the modern human condition, in order to achieve a greater form of understanding through the consequent expansion of awareness.

As the teenager is latent within the child, the true adult is latent in the teenager, and what you are is what you have always been, it needs only be made manifest.

The only security against imminent mortality is to become mature, to be what you are in full awareness and confidence. This is the security that comes from finding and knowing oneself beyond all doubt or opinion, of reaching the totality of the self, the full spectrum of awareness of what you are capable of being and what you truly are.

What you are is beyond the limits of the world you think you know.

Are you afraid, or uncertain? Then you are moving in the right direction. “Here be dragons”, but don’t let that stop you.