CROSS OF LIGHT TEMPLE 2003 – 2017 τί γὰρ ὠφελήσει ἄνθρωπον ἐὰν κερδήσῃ τὸν κόσμον ὅλον καὶ ζημιωθῃ τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ CROSS OF LIGHT TEMPLE [email protected] CROSS OF LIGHT TEMPLE POSITION STATEMENT 1. Everything is grounded in the immediate experience of now. We are here and not elsewhere, and we act from where we are. The immediate experience of now reasserts itself as reality no matter how often it is denied. 2. There is no secret wisdom. Everything is provisional. Nothing is certain. There are no reliable authorities. All systems are arbitrary and only acquire meaning if their constituent elements are accepted as if they were true. All supposedly valid systems can be invalidated by the simple expedient of refusing their premises. 3. What people tell me I am is a fiction. I am beyond any definition given by the other. I am beyond any definition given by myself. I am beyond what I'm told I am. I begin nowhere. I end nowhere. I occupy a space between beginning and end, which is constant but seems to change. The mortal and corruptible body is absolutely linked to any notion of super sensible being with which it is associated. We have the necessary resources within us and we do not need instruction from elsewhere. 4. Form is a treatment of unfettered imagination. The limited is a manifestation of the limitless. Limitless being exists in the context of finite being; the endless is known by that which knows a beginning and end. The end is in the beginning and the beginning is in the end. The beginning and the end differ by virtue of that which has passed between them. ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος, καὶ ὁ λόγος ἦν πρὸς τὸν θεόν, καὶ θεὸς ἦν ὁ λόγος. οὗτος ἦν ἐν ἀρχῇ πρὸς τὸν θεόν. πάντα δι' αὐτοῦ ἐγένετο, καὶ χωρὶς αὐτοῦ ἐγένετο οὐδὲ ἕν. γέγονεν ἐν αὐτῷ ζωὴ ἦν, καὶ ἡ ζωὴ ἦν τὸ φῶς τῶν ἀνθρώπων: καὶ τὸ φῶς ἐν τῇ σκοτίᾳ φαίνει, καὶ ἡ σκοτία αὐτὸ οὐ κατέλαβεν. CROSS OF LIGHT TEMPLE [email protected] CROSS OF LIGHT I am lost in the woods, I am lost in the town I am lost in the woods. I am looking for a tree that resembles Christ crucified. A white moth lands on my shirt. I admire its beauty. The moth takes flight and I follow it. I encounter the Demon of the Woods. The demon wears a necklace of crow skulls; his belly is a sack of blood. The moth protects me from the demon and leads me to the tree. At the side of the tree there is a bush. I pluck a berry from the bush and press it between my fingers. A being arises from the juice stain and relates the tale of how the bush came to be. The Spirit of the Woods decreed that two lights should rule the sky and hold the earth in dominion. He placed a portion of his brightness in one part of the sky and a portion of his brightness in another. Rays of light from these bodies of brightness penetrated the canopy to illuminate the forest floor. A seed was planted at the point where the rays converged. The sky grew dark for a season; the woods grew darker still. The brightness reappeared in the sky and the seed flourished all at once, becoming a succulent bush, heavy with blood red berries. I leave the woods and walk seven miles into town. I make my way to the market cross, near the spire of the great cathedral. There I meet a friendly tramp and a charming, well-dressed old man, who speaks in a fake Scottish accent. The tramp and the old man are me. The three of us drink and talk together. The old man leaves the gathering to test his charm on the ghost of an old woman who drifts through the streets, dressed in 19th century clothing. The tramp departs and the old man rejoins me. We walk to the old man’s home. I am full of dread. I look through a window of the old man’s house and see his library. In pride of place on the library shelves stands a volume entitled ‘Evil Mythologies’. Devilish artefacts are ranged about the room. The sight of the library and the furnishings paralyses me. The old man guides me across the threshold. Temple Seven four petalled black flowers. Each petal of each flower shares the same dimensions. The petals are of different shades, from deepest black to charcoal grey. In the centre of each flower is a representation of the world in different stages of development. A cold wind blows and the petals of the flowers are scattered. The representations of the world fall to the ground, crack, and are rent asunder. Darkness reigns. The darkness parts, allowing a sliver of brightness to be seen. The brightness reveals a path leading through the darkness. The path is entered upon. The darkness closes around me. The path leads on, unseen, but clearly determined. Thought moves along its invisible stretch. The unseen light grows stronger in accordance with my mind’s attraction to its source. The source of all light is eternal light. The source of darkness is the absence of light. The path is forgotten, but travelled unerringly. The darkness will pass. An angel flies at great speed to rid heaven of its demons. The fleshless spectres howl and seem to explode with the brightness of suddenly appearing stars. From these stars that mark the passing of evil further angels come. The angels guide me to a stream. I follow the stream into a forest. A great fire burns in a circular clearing. A figure rises from the flames; black robed, hooded, blind and hairless, bound by the chains of a hopeless wisdom. The fire burns out. The figure dissolves. Encroaching trees fill the clearing, allowing one road of departure. I run swiftly down this road through leaves that are circling and dancing. I come to a garden. I enter the garden at a slow and stately pace. I see a sandy pathway in the form of a cross. I follow the path in a clockwise direction, returning to my point of departure. Land has been replaced by sea. I plunge into the sea and rise after touching the bottom of the ocean. I find myself on a mountain range in the middle of a newly formed island. Beyond the mountains there is a deep grey lake of still water. A yellow sun glows in the centre of the sky of uniform blueness above the lake. The sky is not reflected in the water. A single ray of light emanates from the sun and penetrates the lake’s surface. The point of connection between light and water prompts the birth of these visions. The visions incite a kind of explosion deep in my mind. The energy from the explosion courses through my conscious awareness, brightening all it touches. White Robe The bright jewel of creation, the silver heavens, the gentle rain, the path of green leaf and white plant, the purple flowers, the red flowers in the grass, the beech tree approaching full bloom, the yellow blossom, the rainfall increasing, the limbs of the tall trees embracing and the bird song reigning clear. A white flower unfolds. I am tied to the motion of the flower. I walk through deep heather to the top of a hill. I discover a place of sacrifice to the gods of sun and cloud. I purify the altar, shifting its power to the service of a god of love. I look directly into the setting sun. I look away from the sun and close my eyes. I see a creature of light formed of seven suns moving to the west. The creature of light then moves towards the east, dissolving in stages. The creature’s disappearance allows me to see the stars in bright daylight. I open my eyes and the sun has set. I sleep in a cave. Calm flowing breath gives birth to a being in the pit of my stomach. This being stirs and stretches outwards, tickling my insides. The being seeps through my skin and adventures in the world outside. It transforms everything it touches. It changes everything into an image of itself. It becomes the foundation of a New World. I come to a temple. The roof of the temple is made of clouds, bright clouds layered on top of each other, further than the eye can see. The floor of the temple is made of earth. The temple could accommodate a hundred thousand people but few are allowed to enter the place of worship. Spirit forms fly beneath the roof of clouds. They travel in air bound chariots, hurling spears at the floor. The spears explode upon contact with the earth. A throne appears in the temple. A figure of dazzling brightness sits upon the throne. I am wearing a white robe. My genitals are exposed. I am travelling through a beautiful valley. Gently sloping hills rise from the valley. A group of aged white robed figures travel in the opposite direction. To see them is to think wisdom. They are knowledge made flesh. I am on a pilgrimage to the place they come from. The Church and the Holy Cross The church of the holy cross is located at the top of a steep hill, which rises sharply from a valley. In the churchyard stands the holy cross, enclosed by iron railings.