Fourth Abstract Core
(Quotation from the “Power of Silence”)
Sorcerers believe that until the very moment of the spirit’s descent, any of us could walk away from the spirit; but not afterwards.
The fourth abstract core is called the descent of the spirit or being moved by intent . It is the full brunt of the spirit’s descent. The fourth abstract core is an act of revelation. The spirit reveals itself to us. Sorcerers describe it as the spirit lying in ambush and then descending on us, its prey. Sorcerers say that the spirit’s descent is always shrouded. It happens and yet it seems not to have happened at all.
There is a threshold that once crossed permits no retreat. Every sorcerer should have a clear memory of crossing that threshold so he can remind himself of the new state of his perceptual potential. One does not have to be an apprentice of sorcery to reach this threshold, and the only difference between an average man and a sorcerer, in such cases, is what each emphasizes. A sorcerer emphasizes crossing this threshold and uses the memory of it as a point of reference. An average man does not cross the threshold and does his best to forget all about it.
Sorcerers say that the fourth abstract core happens when the spirit cuts our chains of self-reflection. Cutting our chains is marvelous, but also very undesirable, for nobody wants to be free.
I have wanted to discuss this with all of you for quite some time. Something I hear alot about, amongst Toltecs, is the act of being healed of something being the usher that initially brings them into conscious awareness with the spirit. Choosen, if you will? As this initial contact with Spirit moves the assemblage point, that act ( by a matter of course) , breaks our chains of self- reflection, the first in a long line of movements, culminating at a position called the place of “no pity”.
What I am interested in is your story. I would also like to relate my own too you.
I believe some of us have a more intense brand of the flyers mind than others, in which case I gravitate toward the more intense version. At the time of this story I was in county jail thinking is circles. The same thought turned round and round in my head, detaching myself with each progressive thought further from sanity . I was worring compulsivly about my receding hairling, pulling the hair out on my scalp in a attempt to convince myself that I was not going bald, :blink: I felt my world crashing down as I pondered the size of my dick, I didn’t have a measuring tape, couldn’t remember how long an inch was and didn’t even know what a man’s average size was. If I could only get out of this damned jail, I knew that everytning would be alright, I would be able to convince myself of whatever I wanted. I WAS sick. I was crazy. And I was miserable. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I didn’t want to do anything but sit in my bed, thinking the same broken thought over and over. Now these episodes would come and go but during one particular episode a thought different from any other I’ve ever had was injected into my mind. It went something like this; “Am I my receding hairline? Is that me?” Now of course this sounds simple, but isn’t that the point? The concepts are so simple, yet they allude us all. With that I began my journey, I began to change. A whole new way of looking at myself and the world was thrust upon me. Remembering my good fortune helps me from sinking too far into any indulgence, and the drive to always move forward.
So there is mine, wan’t to share yours?