Monday 9 April 2012

On Coming Home: a Hermetic Parable (of sorts)

<There was meant to be talk about healing rites and my discovery on how awesome the Sixth and Seventh Book of Moses is, especially the Psalms bit. I will get around to it, however consider this post to be the start of the healing rites bit>

Do you remember the first time you hid something from your parents, something big and bad that you thought you could handle - but it just. Got. Worse.

The frustration, the anger, the shame and the fear. The shear dread of the look on their faces when they found out, what they would say. Oh the fear was the worst thing, it stopped your mouth, it shred your stomach into pieces and you couldn't sleep. You were walking around with this awful burden - a burden of bad decisions and you ended up lashing out at the smallest things, just making things even worse.

Then one day, you reached breaking point and told them. It might have been something small, the straw that broke the camel's back, but the pain was so bad that you needed their help, their guidance, because it was all a big mess and it was all your fault.

The love that came pouring back when they realised that you were in pain was such a relief. The anger they felt when they realised you had been shutting them out, that you were their child, made in their image and they would always love you, were always with you - even when you make stupid decisions.

They talked you through it - made you realise exactly where you went wrong and how to make things better. They perhaps suggested you talk to your Uncle Sol to help you out, he'd only be too happy to help. You are your parent's child after all and he adores you because he adores them.

When things get rough, and you feel completely stuck, try going back to The Source. You made in the image of God, or if you prefer, matter filled with spirit. You are not alone, and you are always Loved.


Holy art Thou, O God, the universals' Father.
Holy art Thou, O God, whose Will perfects itself by means of its own Powers.
Holy art Thou, O God, who willeth to be known and art known by Thine own.
Holy art Thou,who didst by Word (Logos) make to consist the things that are.
Holy art Thou, of whom All-nature hath been made an image.
Holy art Thou, whose Form Nature hath never made.
Holy art Thou, more powerful than all power.
Holy art Thou, transcending all pre-eminence.
Holy Thou art, Thou better than all praise.
Accept my reason's offerings pure, from soul and heart for aye stretched up to Thee, O Thou unutterable, unspeakable, Whose Name naught but the Silence can express.
32. Give ear to me who pray that I may ne'er of Gnosis fail, Gnosis which is our common being's nature; and fill me with Thy Power, and with this Grace of Thine, that I may give the Light to those in ignorance of the Race, my Brethren, and Thy Sons.
For this cause I believe, and I bear witness; I go to Life and Light. Blessed art Thou, O Father. Thy Man would holy be as Thou art holy, e'en as Thou gave him Thy full authority to be.
-Poemandres, the Shepherd of Men
Corpus Hermeticum
<Inspired by Frater RO's post>