A volcano erupting at night.
Burning through the restrictions of the day. Taking on and transmuting the world of ordinary consciousness. Inwardly erupting with all that it leaves out, you become a conduit for the suppressed, the repressed, and the denied facets of self and life. Exposing yourself to the onslaught of conventional ideas and their consequences. Aching and longing to turn the world around, you are given to subtle or obvious ways to channel and express what lives inside, you feel intensively committed to bringing it all together within the ordinary compass of everyday life. Saturated with deep impressions of what this Earth is moving through, you are being given the chance to stand in for that–to bring it, and perhaps even to become it.
A man hanging upside down from a tree.
Out of phase with the personal ego-mind, in phase with the greater laws, you are absolutely forced to stay put, to sit tight, to watch and listen and say and do as little as possible. A fair witness to what is happening all around, with no personal vantage point. Being a truth vessel–perfectly designed to hold the truth and nothing but. Uncomprehending of perversity and corruption, and naive to all radical distortion, but you are surpassingly aware of what is good and what is true and of the ways in which the greater laws are being played out in this world. Gifted in observing and appreciating how the Divine Will prevails, how the light penetrates the darkness. Simply there to be with the constructive and the upbuilding energies and forces. The pure idealist in the perfect position to be strictly transparent.
A woman doing delicate embroidery.
Painstaking labors in several different planes of existence. The mind being restrung slowly and systematically and by erosion of what was assumed or taken as a given. Multiple worlds crying out for refinement, repair, repolarization, and release. The most sensitized and self-conscious and fine-tuned way of being imaginable. Attending to subtle, underlying echoes and resonances. Lost in time. Existing in a void or parallel world or altered state; doorkeeper between the worlds in an unlikely form. But inside the spiral, there lives a knowingness and a beingness in tune with Earth and Heaven, and it is rhythmicallysynchronized with the ancient and the future, the forgotten and the unknown. Just there, to be with the transition, and stay in touch throughout.
A small piglet dressed in baby’s clothes.
Trying exceedingly hard to fit perfectly within prescribed standards and the attitudes and values that are traditional or conventional. Intent on memorizing each gesture, every turn of phrase. You are almost hysterically straight and narrow outwardly in juxtaposition to how you really see, feel, and respond to things. Inside there is quavering, an intensely alive and overwhelmingly primal life-force generator. But any way you try to put it forth is troubling. There is no place for utterly other, totally maverick spirits in the midst of ordinary life. So you engage in a thousand disguises, try absolutely everything, ultimately ending up forced to be transparent, direct, throbbingly real, and so ardently sincere that it becomes just the way you are. And you need to be part-of-the-mix as the ingredient we all need, so that the Earth comes through and speaks and dances and reminds the others that they too are surpassingly strange.
A skull on a pole at the entrance to a dark wood.
The mind of death always knows ahead of time each and every danger, problem, and dilemma. The Cassandra complex warning self and world of what will go wrong. Cautioning, tempering, and suppressing, you can afford no mistakes. The mind is set upon doing it just right from start to finish. When there are hitches and snags, you hit the roof with qualms and doubts. The self against itself. The mind standing over the spontaneous one and saying, “No, you can’t go that way.” Forebodings are a self-fulfilling prophecy. The self proves itself right and wrong. Right about nothing working, and wrong to be in that position. This is a mind-set to be eroded and worn out, supplanted by fresh inquiry with no agenda, no worry, and just the truth that there is death in everything and life to follow if you let go into it completely.
A banyan tree that creates an entire forest.
A towering stature. Containing within yourself a vast creative force that can fill the world with its diverse and multiplex awareness. You have a graphic ability to evoke, to capture, to epitomize a realm, a world, to draw it forth, to highlight it. And this then extends into many others, such that the illumination, the fresh angle is sharply relevant and universally resonant. Experiencing for yourself the wisdom of the ages, proving it out afresh by experimentation and open discovery. Piercing to the core with your fluent presence in this world. Saying in so many different ways “Here it is, here it is again. I have found it over here”–the living proof that nature is totally alive, that the creative power is everywhere, and that all of it yearns to be given voice, to be celebrated, to be acknowledged by one who can reach to the vasts and penetrate to the details and make macrocosm and microcosm one.
A pie thrown in someone’s face.
Action and reaction. Reflexive mirroring of self by world and world by self. You are forced to confront yourself everywhere. Starkly compelled to deal with karmas of the past returned: who did what to whom. Conflict, strife, tension, and pressure. Mischief and the unexpected . On guard. Agreeing to meet yourself through others and to find intimate reverberations from every side. You have an overwhelming experience of running into the consequences for even what you thought–a wrap-around world of breakthroughs, quandaries, alliances and dangers. On red alert twenty-five hours a day, knowing that you cannot turn your back on threat or opportunity. Everything is obvious and supersubtle, gross and elusive, tightly known and vastly beyond conception.
A man thinking up names for colors.
The mind is a hilarious thing. It populates the world with its many ideas on top of what is there and then can no longer see things in themselves in their pristine light. We trade direct experience for a culturally rich consciousness. This mental set is marvelously intricate and detailed. Becoming conversant with the human sphere takes up all your time and energy, drawing you ever further into complexity, multiplicity, and appreciation for the beauty and the brilliance of the best in culture and civilization. The refinements and elaborations are infinite in scope. You become an expert, a central force, an adept in working the mind’s magic. In the largest picture, this is a perfecting of human intelligence in its concrete, penetrating power, combined with its far-ranging spread into variety and universal brotherhood. It remains narrow-spectrum, rational throughout, but does this up the best it can be done and a little bit better.
A man mixing cement.
Jammed tight with concepts. Thinking about what you are doing. Interpretations, evaluations, opinions, and surmises. Void of heart-force. Believing in progress, bent upon success. You strictly, rigidly carry out what the mind dictates, a form of ignorance that is very clever. Something missing in the soul. Compensations on top of compensations. Exceedingly busy, hyper, with plans, projects, and enterprises. You are very good at achieving results. Riveted to the phenomena. But prone to casting shadows that come back to haunt. Shortsighted and hooked into what is convenient and pragmatic, perfect in small outer things–all of existence becomes small outer things.
A pin cushion.
Turning yourself into an object of common use, you literally and mentally take on the maintenance and the minor and the mediocre to keep the outer mind preoccupied. Meanwhile, deeper inside you are far elsewhere. By being efficient, productive, helpful, and exemplary in outward behavior you make very sure to throw everyone off track and keep your world at bay. The inner one is connecting with worlds that are best spared curious prying. The innocuousness and the miscellaneous doing-good are laid on thick. The inner life burns with so many possibilities, each one of which is nursed along, keeping the flame alive. Even though the maidenly outer one is so good at pretending that there is nobody here but we good people, doing our best to keep everything going neatly and splendidly.
A four-year-old girl dressed as a nurse.
Innocence has its ways to persist. You can grow up, yet retain the stance of the novice, the beginner, the wonder-worker. You foster a knack of renewing your original, basic values and way of being at every critical juncture–a quality unique and unmistakable. At any age and within all situations, coming at things as though we all just got here and we are simply trying things on for size. The best of this quality is a sticking to prenatal resolves of a lofty integrity that refuses steadfastly to fall under the weight of the critical mind. The worst of this quality is that in its zeal, its dedication, and its self- insistency, it invariably puts others to shame and generates in others the self-consciousness and self-judgement you are yourself bypassing. Therefore, what is good for yourself proves to be bad for others, and results in a quandary, a confusing and puzzling situation, eventually impelling you to add one borrowed ingredient: the ability to take yourself lightly.
A dog sniffing a dead animal.
Searching for clues, you probe the straight line and the intricate curve, tapping the mind’s powers for intricate operations. Prone to find the pathological, the destructive, and the inverted, the bloodhound sleuth checking everything out everywhere. Curious, fascinated, alive with speculations, hunches, notions. Wanting to track something down, to get resolution. Needing to know, poking about in the dark. You possess remarkable senses and an almost purely telepathic mind, tremendously skilled and adroit. But you can get poisoned by skepticisms and by too heavy an exposure to the dark underbelly of things. Desperate to learn how to also accept and embrace all that is, unconditionally, to let go into rightfulness and goodness in the very thick of things being rotten and pervasively wrong.
A man with hair on his back.
Peppery, fiery, contentious, and spoiling for a fight. Born ready, shot from a cannon, one of a kind–volatile in the far extreme. Convinced of things. Taking sides, even inventing them, you are impelled by the polarized consciousness to be so fiercely partisan that the destructive overwhelms the constructive. Incited to riot by what is wrong with the world–not reconciled, not accepting, not at peace. Self-righteous and headstrong. In perfect moments, ebullient and magnificent and the most charming a being can be, much of the time you are feuding and bickering and blindly consumed by the lower mind. Keenly good at self-deception, the world’s best at blind self-fidelity. The perfect promoter of the unpopular cause. But you feel tormented by the way in which all of this perpetuates itself and cannot find freedom. You search for a way through, hungry for self-overcoming, and needing so badly to emerge from the thicket of the mind, to be affirmative of existence with no doubts making the world intolerable to sit in one more moment.
A long steel screw.
Set in place, the die is cast–the past determines the future. Held within patterns and syndromes of the habitual and the pragmatic–literalistically identified within strictly severe frameworks. You are at the mercy of conditionings and programmings, and chronically mentally obstructive, up against the grind of the outer mind droning onward. Radically non-creative, noninnovative, you follow the party line. Waiting until the loss of real direction has played itself out endlessly, and hoping that a different phase altogether will knock you over the head and pull you onward from this dead end.
A man inherits a vast fortune.
Aristocracy takes many forms. Whether by karmic predisposition or by bloodline or both, being granted the ultimate pedigree for serving effectively. Those who have ruled can serve. Those who have mastered can give themselves over. Those who have attained can extract the essence of what they have come to before and utterly discard the rest. Showered with blessings. Filled to overflowing with the streams of your background, you are yet definitely motivated to use all this as a springboard and not to lean back on it. You feel the impulse to renew gifts, treasures and mysteries–to revitalize the old streams, to make relevant and essential what has previously proven to be steady and enduring. And most of all, endowed with a fluency in drawing from the well something fresh and new, and being so at home in bringing it all through that you become an individual here in the midst of things, who just happens to know and be familiar with just about anything you need to access from the well that never runs dry.
A jar of camphor crystals.
The mind profoundly divided between the supremely constructive and upbuilding, and the radically destructive and fragmenting. The intention is to gather the best, to do the right thing, to be exemplary. But somewhere along the line this energy runs out, and there slips in its shadow which runs wild. Creating your own troubles, cleaning up after yourself. Being at the mercy of a fatal dualism that splits you terribly, the plight and dilemma of one who has wandered into the territory of tempting forces. Consciously blameless and innocuous; subconsciously charged with mischief and mayhem. And the hardest part is that it feels too late to turn this around. As you experience the fatalistic notion that this is just the way it is, you have arrived at the center of the temptation, and must learn the art of radical letting go.
An old bald woman talking to her dog.
Internal dialogue in which self and world are constantly discovering where they stand with each other. Having no pretense or guile. Speaking to each one in the way you speak to yourself, in the way you speak to everything. No rituals, no ceremony, no special cases. Unvarnished honesty and truth. Intent on getting at what is underneath, what is inside. You penetrate right through the personality, the ego-mind, without thinking about it. Knowing that life needs a voice and that being that voice is natural and inevitable. You feel close to the ground, basic, and foundational. Not very nice, not very easy-going. The pure straight-shooter, as real as can be, and almost too much so. You are the reminder of how it would be if we stayed with integrity and conviction and threw out the rest.
Eyeglasses which cause one to see rainbows.
Seeing through the eyes of anybody, everybody, all worlds together, all worlds differentiated sharply, you are able to switch perspective from the personal vantage point to any conceivable other. Drawn to extend the range of perception and the worldview to encompass what it looks like from the inside of each and every one. Clairvoyant, telepathic, and mythically potent with the power of story. Keenly guided to unfold consciousness into its evolutionary potential. You are thoroughly convinced that if all sides can be respected, honored, and lived into, interpersonal dynamics will naturally work out optimally. And you feel ultimately transported by an affirmative life-giving perspective to open doors and make this world a brighter place, with simple, straightforward brush strokes of cosmic common sense.
A fire breathing dragon the size of a mouse.
Big things and little things trade places. Big things become off screen, too demanding and formidable, oppressive. Little things become unquenchably full of life and there to be entered upon with passionate conviction. Little things proliferate wildly. Soon they are everywhere, clamoring, yearning, asking for attention and energy. Each little thing grows very big–incarnation, embodiment. Coming to the brink of immense commitment into the earth, you have a craft, a fine touch of beholding, witnessing, and responding to each facet of life unto itself. The most rigorous of paths–to be there into the details. Will and mind become one, a discipline, a harnessing that is magnificent and very hard to accomplish. Yet you recognize that this is what remains to be done, to light up the jewels of life and let them arise everywhere.
The expanse of the Himalayas in the distance.
When you place a spiritual/cosmic perspective upon every single little thing that happens, you will either overshoot the mark or discover perfect meaning. The overshooting of the mark happens when the little mind and the greater mind become warped in their relativities. Proportion tumbles before pregnant magnitude. Everything is sprinkled with archetypal overtones. Perfect meaning arises here when the truth is the yardstick and you simply align yourself with the truth in a nondogmatic fashion. The spirit of discovery becomes the spur. The unknown makes the known precious and poignant. You finally get it right that every microcosmic situation is a jewel in the making, and only needs to be appreciated and boosted by faithful beholding. The passage is from thinking about it to becoming at home within the path of bringing all worlds together, just as the occasion makes possible, with a light touch and an easy grasp of the reins.
Dark river and distant bell.
So much to be done. So many fragments to move with. Such a confounding. The one inside is calm and quiet, poised and accepting, knows what shall be. The one outside is frantic with events and experiences which do not add up. Severe conditions to test the soul and give the mind quite a scare. The process is to keep going into it a little further, despite yourself, and to keep losing who you thought you were in the bargain. But there is somebody to be when there is nobody left to be, and only then.
A woman writing with the tip of her fingernail.
Sharply attuned. Self-consistent. Always telling the same story in variations–autobiography. So much to say, such a lineage to articulate and reveal. Being brilliantly tuned in to every nuance of your own superfine sensibility and not missing a stitch. Eerily intent upon staying on course and witnessing how it is done, why it is done, with dispassionate gaze. Selected by destiny to be the one to exemplify the way it should be done. Willing and able to do this forever and do nothing else. So straight and narrow that it becomes idiosyncratic and Self-referential. The name of the game is to call the shots, to stay on top of the situation and to tap every level of intelligence to make your way purely and precisely where you were intended to be, in the master plan being followed utterly.
Giant cacti blooming in the desert.
Knowing beyond knowing what is real and what counts. Commonsensical, good, and true. Containing so much knowledge and wisdom that you bear the record of all that is worthwhile in human evolution. Fascinating and extraordinary insights, realizations, and observations–an independent way of seeing. Integrity and conviction, sterling and impressing–a perfect grasp of essentials. Dedication to holding faithful to the earth and her ways. You have an almost abrasive style of sticking to your guns and making it clear what is correct and furthering and what is not. Tremendous mentality demanding self-command to harness and make effective and helpful. willing to do the work. Always prepared.
A silver trident.
Psychically in tune with the collective and assigned the task of maintaining a vigil of collective awareness, you are sent to outposts to stay tuned and partake in the universal communications network. Singularly devoid of self-drive. Sacrificial incarnation. Immensely far removed from the usual territory of the mind, you have been granted the opportunity to serve and to suffer. Exquisitely sensitized. Brilliantly astute. And seeking and searching for ways for everybody to reconnect. Solitude, seclusion, stillness. Wishing and yearning for the world to be at peace and for people to understand each other, you contribute constructively. Consecrated, mystical, and right there on the inside of life, you wait timelessly for all good things to come in their season.
A gold ring in the form of a snake swallowing its tail.
Knowing who you are, with your own greater self right there standing above you, showing you the way. Impressing the mark of advanced selfhood upon everything in sight, you are clear as a bell that you must hold true to your nature. This life’s journey is sensed as a true biography, a story for the ages which completes itself and comes back to the beginning at the next octave. Knowing beyond knowing the nature of the quest, and being especially aware of the how of each little step to pass this on. It is a delicate matter to know this much. Many who attain this point will employ their conscious mind to cover all this up and generate a busy outer facade. However, the substantive attunement to the mysteries cannot be missed by any angel, and suggests that this is a culminating and a consummate way of being which speaks from the vital center and is there beyond all attempts to throw it off.
An old man counting gold coins.
Getting your bearings, determining your limits, finding a reality fix. Making sure that everything is there; checking out the manifest details over and again. Coming down to earth and becoming sober and straight and clear. You are overwhelmingly convinced that there must come this cleaning-up and clearing-up. Sick and tired of pretense and hype, hungry to get down to basics, and somewhat hooked on the quantitative intelligence. Blurring distinctions. Intent upon being viable, correct, and self-sufficient. If all these things are taken up with a twinkle of humor, they are digestible. But if they become self-serious and a little too proper, they are deadly and sickening. You learn to throw off the attitude and to cleave to the substance of getting things right, unapologetically and steadfastly.
The magician disrobes. He has no sex organs.
We bear a dream within us. In that dream, we can magically disperse every partisan consideration and make the truth a commonsensically shareable thing. We endow that dream with more of ourselves than any outwardly existing realities. Slowly we foster its seeds. There just must be a way to find the common point, to no longer be jerked around by gender politics and all the other antibrotherhood, antisisterhood currents. So we endow the dream with our heart’s aspirations, and when we give our all to it, the dream comes true. but until that point, we are worlds apart from others in harboring the dream of our coming reunion with everybody.
Autumn leaves pressed into a book.
The mind is a funny thing. It pours over experience with a fine tooth comb, yet only sees what it expected to see. The mind programs itself, indoctrinates itself thoroughly and intensively in the fine art of imposing the familiar and the assumed upon all of life. This is a maddening way to operate, yet it does not register as being so. Instead you like it this way, prefer it, advocate it, simply because it is self-reinforcing and self-perpetuating. You are after elaborate confirmations and validations that the little self is perfectly splendid just as it is. And you will be sure to get these. The transaction is guaranteed. But there is an unknown self who cannot breathe in this atmosphere, and who knocks at the door seeking entry and is not very pleased to be tuned out and pushed away and told that we are fine as we are and do not need to be stirred up by the voice of the rest of existence.
A witch preparing magic mushrooms.
Within the delicate, formative stages of major departures into the unknown, there is encountered an extraordinary task and lesson that detains you a long while. It becomes self-evident that it is everything that comes before that makes the difference. There must be a fully attuned, magical sensibility to make the future possible. Coming to this requires arduous discipline and elaborate ritual, internal initiation. This becomes such a labyrinth of discipleship and apprenticeship that you wander through the maze discovering everything you ever needed to know. All is played out within. There is no need to make anything happen on the outer. You are assigned to empty yourself out, to strip everything away, to become invisible. And if you excel at your craft, so many ventures and initiatives will be seeded, that this inner planes total mobilization will prove to be more fruitful and productive than any premature thrusts of outer mind, no matter how impressive or seemingly necessary. The entire path lies well within, and needs no surface success to substantiate itself.
Supersensible beings manifesting through geometric forms.*
Sacred geometry inscribes the pattern of the world going through its great shifts, its quantum leaps. If you learn to stand back and be within the greater archetypal motions, you find yourself being placed in perfect strategic positions, in exquisitely rightful initiations and assignments. The transparency of things is superlative to behold. You are called to serve the highest, to respect and honor all manifestations, to be there for everybody. Interior steadfastness and implacability; knowing the law, the code, the way. Magnificent in applying vaster awareness to life’s particular, detailed variations on the theme of how everything fits together perfectly and is woven by divine design. The fine tuned sensibility of the master craftsman, particularly adept in staying modest, unadorned and straight on. It is the exemplar of the way it is done when you know who you are and how things are around here, and when you see it coming through in every jewelled detail with little lost in the translation.
*Please note that the original Chandra symbol was worded, “Supernatural beings appearing as geometric forms.” John Sandbach agrees that this current wording is a clearer rendition of what was intended.