...Beginning...
...I am silent.
My mind is now a pebble, and I let it fall into the pool of meditation, where it sinks down until it reaches the bottom, nesting itself over the soft sand of no-thought.
Silence grows inside me, flows outside and around me, spreading everywhere; I can still hear the endless sounds and noises from the world, but now I perceive the Silence as the space between and behind all sounds, and so even the loudest airplane's engines above me turns out to be something clear, small, unable to upset me or otherwise disturb the mirrorlike calm of my mind.
I arise from the seated posture that I was before, joining hands and elevating them above my head; I open them, letting each hand return by their separated path at both sides of myself, sounding the secret Word of Inspiration that now flows over me, filling my soul with clear thoughts.
The Awen has arrived.
The Void is now a Fullness.
In a sense, the Calling is already done -- Everything and Everyone that is needed is already here -- but, in other, the indiferentiated All-in-Oneness must assume Forms, Names, Faces for me to relate to It, so it is necessary to name the Unnamed, give faces to the Unseen, shape forms to the Formless.
So, I proceed.
The One is here.
The sphere that is the One, that encompasses all that is, may be described by three dimensions, seen as Three Circles interlocked...
I see with my inner eye the horizontal Circle, flaming with a redgold fire around me and growing to embrace the horizon and beyond it: Space Himself, whose inner Name is Infinity and whose secret Word is Here, and I call Him Beli.
I hear with my inner ear the vertical Circle, flowing as a silverblue stream of water around me and growing to enfold the world and beyond it: Time Herself, whose inner Name is Eternity and whose secret Word is Now, and I call Her Dana.
I breathe with my inner breast the sagital Circle, running as a coppergreen flux of winds around me and growing to wrap the Earth and beyond it: Mind Itself, whose inner Name is Totality and whose secret Word is That, and I call It Esus.
The Three Circles are the boundaries of my Magickal Universe -- but it expanded Itself so much that there is no difference between It and the everyday Universe, and this is good.
The Stage is set; let the Players enter.
Here...Now...That...
The Center is where I am.
The Light turns of its own will into a shimmering octarine shade, moving around me and forming an eight-point-stellar pattern.
I face the point in front of me, and Fire burns, light and heat and clear vision, and I call Her Trebaruna.
I proceed along the line of the Star, face the next point, and Mountain grows, rock and weight and solid knowledge, and I call Her Herminia.
I move to the next point, and Water flows, currents and tides and cleansing purity, and I call Him Tongoenabiago.
I come to the next point, and Wind blows, lightness and softness and plenty of wealth, and I call Him Coaranioniceus.
I go to the next point, and Moon arises, cold and shadow and all-begetting silence, and I call Her Cintia.
I walk to the next point, and Earth spreads, lush and fertile and maternal love, and I call Her Ategina.
I step to the next point, and Lightning strikes, sharp and bold and fierce protection, and I call Him Runesocesios.
I arrive to the last point, and Heaven opens, high and vast and encompassing providence, and I call Him Bandua.
I leave the lines of the Star, return to the center, and Sun shines from inside me, bright and warm and life-giving health, and I whisper the Name, calling Him/Her/It Endovelico.
The Door is open.
All things may come and go through.
I stand still in the same perfect Silence from the beginning, that even the Names couldn't break.
The Players are ready: what about the Patron?
And so it begins.
From the Center I can see toward the edge of all the Universes.
Inside me awakes the I that is Other -- or the Other that is really I -- and for a brief instant, I see the worlds as if I am not myself, with new eyes and a new heart (but why it seems so familiar, as if I've knew it since before I were born?).
All possibilities are before me now, paths leading from the crossroads that is Self to countless ways, modes and patterns of being.
Who is the I that chooses what path to follow?
It has a Name -- but do I dare to write it, even if it's written with black paint in a black paper inside a dark room in an abandoned house in a ghost city in a lost continent in a dead world???
Let the Name remain unknown.
The Rite that never began is now no-closed.
My mind is now a pebble, and I let it fall into the pool of meditation, where it sinks down until it reaches the bottom, nesting itself over the soft sand of no-thought.
Silence grows inside me, flows outside and around me, spreading everywhere; I can still hear the endless sounds and noises from the world, but now I perceive the Silence as the space between and behind all sounds, and so even the loudest airplane's engines above me turns out to be something clear, small, unable to upset me or otherwise disturb the mirrorlike calm of my mind.
I arise from the seated posture that I was before, joining hands and elevating them above my head; I open them, letting each hand return by their separated path at both sides of myself, sounding the secret Word of Inspiration that now flows over me, filling my soul with clear thoughts.
The Awen has arrived.
The Void is now a Fullness.
In a sense, the Calling is already done -- Everything and Everyone that is needed is already here -- but, in other, the indiferentiated All-in-Oneness must assume Forms, Names, Faces for me to relate to It, so it is necessary to name the Unnamed, give faces to the Unseen, shape forms to the Formless.
So, I proceed.
The One is here.
The sphere that is the One, that encompasses all that is, may be described by three dimensions, seen as Three Circles interlocked...
I see with my inner eye the horizontal Circle, flaming with a redgold fire around me and growing to embrace the horizon and beyond it: Space Himself, whose inner Name is Infinity and whose secret Word is Here, and I call Him Beli.
I hear with my inner ear the vertical Circle, flowing as a silverblue stream of water around me and growing to enfold the world and beyond it: Time Herself, whose inner Name is Eternity and whose secret Word is Now, and I call Her Dana.
I breathe with my inner breast the sagital Circle, running as a coppergreen flux of winds around me and growing to wrap the Earth and beyond it: Mind Itself, whose inner Name is Totality and whose secret Word is That, and I call It Esus.
The Three Circles are the boundaries of my Magickal Universe -- but it expanded Itself so much that there is no difference between It and the everyday Universe, and this is good.
The Stage is set; let the Players enter.
Here...Now...That...
The Center is where I am.
The Light turns of its own will into a shimmering octarine shade, moving around me and forming an eight-point-stellar pattern.
I face the point in front of me, and Fire burns, light and heat and clear vision, and I call Her Trebaruna.
I proceed along the line of the Star, face the next point, and Mountain grows, rock and weight and solid knowledge, and I call Her Herminia.
I move to the next point, and Water flows, currents and tides and cleansing purity, and I call Him Tongoenabiago.
I come to the next point, and Wind blows, lightness and softness and plenty of wealth, and I call Him Coaranioniceus.
I go to the next point, and Moon arises, cold and shadow and all-begetting silence, and I call Her Cintia.
I walk to the next point, and Earth spreads, lush and fertile and maternal love, and I call Her Ategina.
I step to the next point, and Lightning strikes, sharp and bold and fierce protection, and I call Him Runesocesios.
I arrive to the last point, and Heaven opens, high and vast and encompassing providence, and I call Him Bandua.
I leave the lines of the Star, return to the center, and Sun shines from inside me, bright and warm and life-giving health, and I whisper the Name, calling Him/Her/It Endovelico.
The Door is open.
All things may come and go through.
I stand still in the same perfect Silence from the beginning, that even the Names couldn't break.
The Players are ready: what about the Patron?
And so it begins.
From the Center I can see toward the edge of all the Universes.
Inside me awakes the I that is Other -- or the Other that is really I -- and for a brief instant, I see the worlds as if I am not myself, with new eyes and a new heart (but why it seems so familiar, as if I've knew it since before I were born?).
All possibilities are before me now, paths leading from the crossroads that is Self to countless ways, modes and patterns of being.
Who is the I that chooses what path to follow?
It has a Name -- but do I dare to write it, even if it's written with black paint in a black paper inside a dark room in an abandoned house in a ghost city in a lost continent in a dead world???
Let the Name remain unknown.
The Rite that never began is now no-closed.