The Order of the Dragon

There is only one path – the truth of that which is pathless. This is everyone’s journey through one man’s eye. Verily I know today, there is only one path. One Christmas was spent learning from Dragon. He never celebrates Christmas, but on this occasion Dragoness convinced him she wanted a regular festivity, so that we could live like normal folk – she was bent hopelessly on conforming Dragon to some form of regularity. Dragon was and is dynamic, spontaneous and yet, absolutely precise. Unpredictably insightful and ready at any moments notice to sieze any opportunity to bestow a profound lesson. His every breath entailed with it a lesson on life. Such is an enlightened Master. Yet his wife refused to believe, couldn’t believe, that he was more than a mere mortal. The fact that he named her Dragoness, and described to her the essence of her true nature, she outwardly denied as having any solidity: Dragoness was just a cool name, as was Dragon, and there was nothing more to it. Yes, she knew there was much more, but this is how we run.

We had gone from living in a tent by the beach, to a rotting hostel to now, in a comfortable apartment with satellite television, internet, and most devices thought to be the normal activity of a householder. All as per the wish of Dragon’s wife. Her nature seeked a home, a consistency, a comfort: white picket fence, a yard, her children and her husband. That’s what she desired. And she despised us, Dragon’s students – she felt we took his time and his affection away from her. After urging him on in this way, Dragon agreed, so the five of us, his most precious and valued students (wife included, though she refused to entertain the thought of being his student), this time around shall we celebrate Christmas.

Which meant presents, a Christmas tree with lights, snow – ah, we had snow! – and well, is there anything else necessary? Family – but we were, indeed, family. Not merely connected by blood, but by a higher degree, by spiritual friendship. So it came to pass, unlike the frequent times spent being thrown face to face with that which we fear most, that we prepared for a regular Chrismas, with pudding to boot. We thought it to be a little holiday, relaxation time. And as always, we should have suspected – Dragon has a lesson in store.

This Chrismas, presents were bought, Si was channelled through, him being a professional chef, constructed perhaps the best Indian meal I have ever tasted. We ate, we drank, we unwrapped the gifts. That was pretty much all that was vaguely normal. Let me remember properly. I was hypnotised, so that Avalon could be brought through. The Warrior within me, Avalon, the greatest warrior in the Universe. That didn’t go all too well because my doubts got in the way, and when Si asked me to name the two people that I could sense by the seaside in my minds vision, I said that I can’t tell such a thing – I couldn’t possibly know. But I did. I still remember the names. Nevermind that.

We sat around the living room, and one by one – oh god, where is all my openness gone.

“Have fun. This whole quest is fun. You should be smiling all the way.”

I can’t say I understand very much of the lessons – but I am learning that the lessons are very simple and very easy. Today I posted the journal a second time to Llewellyn publishers. For a while now Dragon telling me that I will “wait until it’s too late” had haunted me. Too late to publish. Too late to learn from him. After a while, I think I convinced myself that now it was too late. Maybe that’s why I’ve been so panic-stricken recently. But today the nature of action took over, and whether it was too late or not was not an issue. I typed an introduction that I had been feeling unable to type for months – isn’t it amazing how naturally, how easily, life flows when the analytical mind is sent to the backburner.

Dragoness and I shared a trait of carelessness. Dragoness, who was ideally and apparently the most compassionate of beings, in this life had managed somehow to take on the disgusting persona of a self-centred bitch. This being said, the rare moments when she was kind, it was heartmelting. And in her presence, my own self-centredness became very obvious, because I simply couldn’t stand her “it’s all about me” take on life. And if I found it so irritating, it was only matched by my internal struggle with my own notions of grandeur. On the one hand, Dragon would tell me I am his most precious student, one for whom he would leave everything, and alternatively, I would be abused as being the scum of the Earth. The grandness of the praises were perfectly equaled by the shittiness of the abuses. Thus making my times with him literally – and I emphasise, literally – celestial and nightmarish, sometimes both at the same time. And he was like this with most everyone of us, except for Sky. Whom, I suspect, wouldn’t have benefited from learning in such ways.

As much as Dragon’s stingingly precise swipes at my ego, and the rapidity at which he would make it subside, to be replaced by a surrendering, blissful calmness… One in which I felt no desire to take control, for the control itself is an illusion. As much as I would be taken to these sublime states by – it is now obvious, Dragon cleverly placing walls all around me until I saw the reality of inner freedom. As much as I discovered this sober nature, Dragoness would as swiftly draw me back into the mundane, bitchy world. Ah, I never knew until now how useful she was in my training. For what use is a bliss that is so easily destroyed?

Again and again, I found that place of bliss and calm, and Dragoness would be at my neck, the brittle sticky sword of struggle and loss on her hands. She had an impeccable talent for bringing the worst of one’s nature out to the surface. And there was Dragon, on the other side, the sword of void and higher truth at his fist, chopping at my mind with crystal compassionate eyes. There was only one Christmas that I spent with Dragon, and at that point, I was in that place of calm again. Because you see, Dragoness was the real test. And each time, over and over, each time, my patience with her grew with steady grace. And she too began to lose that constant, ready to erupt angry facade she had adapted in this lifetime, and the true compassion in her eyes slowly, very slowly, emerged.

So, on that Christmas, Dragoness was in the world of festivity and shopping, she even helped to chose a present for me. There was something that she had wanted to do that night, I can’t remember what it was – some self-centred thing, something to do with “her family, her husband, her house.” But Dragon had other plans. Afterall, what better time to teach the lesson of generosity to us self-centred cretins, than on Christmas eve? As we sat around the living room… Oh, suddenly I remember something, Dragon had bought me a big box of chocolates. Informing me that this is actually what I really want for Christmas, whether I know it or not, and that I should sit down and enjoy it and I am forbidden to share it with anyone. At the time I had thought, “Erm, so you say it’s chocolates that I really want?” I tasted it, continuing to think, “It tastes ok. Doesn’t feel like this is what I really want. Oh Guru, I don’t think you know me at all sometimes.” Maybe if I had just reserved judgment, maybe if I had placed my internal dialogue on the backburner, and simply ate… I would have seen for myself.

This is very important, actually. Perhaps what has hurt me most in my life is Dragon proving to me that I don’t even know what I want. And this is the case for nearly every human. Most of us who realise that we don’t know what we really want, are being much more honest to themselves, than the ones who vehemently convince themselves using this criteria or other. At the time, what I thought I really wanted, was my soulmate. My spiritual partner. She was in England, you see. Which made matters all the more frustrating. Dragon refused to arrange for us to meet, not until I was ready, because my life was on the most part conducted by lust.

Avalon and Altantis. I haven’t mentioned a thing about this so far because there is so much backstory to it that I felt I needed to first establish so that it doesn’t sound so unbelievable. But the fear of sounding unbelievable has held back my own spiritual progress, so let’s throw that out the window with the rest. After my initiation into enlightenment, dunking my head into the icy-harsh English sea, as I sat in the tent with Dragon, he told me it is time for him to tell me my true nature. My spiritual name. I am Avalon, Astral Warrior of Divine Light. The Greatest Warrior in the Universe. And my spiritual partner, is Atlantis. And upon hearing this, I think for the most part I got hung on all the aspects I shouldn’t have gotten addicted to. Pondering why I, of all people, am the greatest warrior. But especially, wondering about Atlantis, and when and how soon I would have the pleasure of fucking her. How blissful it would be to get a blowjob from my spiritual partner, I pondered. Though, of course, I masked these thoughts under an unassuming cover of more romantic notions. It is only now, when I understand my own mind a little clearer, that I know what I was really thinking.

Which is why I never did meet her. Not yet. Which is why the necessity for the Quest was so vital – so that through the awakening of the Goddess within my heart, I could understand and transcend lust. Sex is so misunderstood. But no, the role of the Goddess Herain is much greater than to simply get me over lustful thoughts. Though, by accomplishing that, transforming the very lust that has overtaken humanity in some way or form, the door of Magik can be opened.

Back to the point. Months had passed and I was convinced that what I actually wanted was to live a deeply spiritual life with my partner, Atlantis. Knowing this, chocolates, after all, seemed to be an insult to my intelligence. I think I may have been actually offended when he gave them to me. Is this all that you know me, I must have thought. Where is my Atlantis? That, now that, would be a real present.

Now let’s get back to Christmas Eve, when nightfall arrived and our tummies were filled with the most delicious Indian meal prepared by a caucasian cook, no less. And I have tasted heavenly delights in my trips to India, so when I say this was the best meal ever, I don’t say it lightly. As we sat around the living room, Dragon began to teach me how to channel beings into other people. Namely, Sky. I wasn’t very good. The energy of the Intent, because after all, it was all about intent, seemed to be half-certain on my part, which had Sky gurgling in a fit, until Dragon eased the being through. He started us at channeling the easy ones. Reiki, the Elf, came through, was a little dazzled and was getting used to the sudden invokation when Dragon swiftly explained the scenario and had me channel someone else. James? Si? Fairies. Pixies. Unicorn. Elves. Astral Warriors. It happened rapidly, one after the other, so that I got a very clear idea of how to focus my Intent. It needed to be a total focus, not a single doubt could be entertained.

It was simple. You just… don’t… doubt. Once the Intent had utterly encompassed your being, it was easy. I say all this, but I still wasn’t very good at it. Nevertheless, slowly it dawned on us the real purpose of why Dragon was doing this. Once the beings of the light side were brought, then Dragon did something really uncanny. He summoned a hungry ghost. A sad devastated looking thing. Though it was in Sky’s body, it’s shrill loneliness could be felt in its eyes and its presence. A hungry ghost – beings who spend aeons within the hell realms, unable to eat, because every trace of food they attempt to devour turns to hot coal and chokes their lungs. Unable to eat, yet eternally cursed with hunger.

Dragon reached into the essence of the ghost, and removed his… blindness. The mist of his guilt, of his delusion. It was like he reawakened the essence of the being. It was like the spell of ignorance that the ghost had been magnetised by was merely an outer shell, which such a being as Dragon could easily wave aside. And Dragon offered the first true gift of Christmas Eve. He gave the freed hungry ghost, some food to enjoy.

We sat in stillness. Dragon’s compassion entranced the room. It is moments such as these that instills in me the nature of his wisdom – of how blessed I have been to be among his presence. When the ghost had his fill, Dragon offered him a gift. If he so wished it, he can remain in this clear state of mind – of knowing who he is. He no longer needs to suffer. He can, upon his will, cast away the drama of a hungry ghost, and start again, wherever he wished to go, whatever he wished to do. Weather it be reborn on earth, or spend time in the celestial heavens. The former ghost replied that he wants to remain a ghost. That he wished for his illusion, his forgotten, lost, state of mind, to be returned to him. Dragon complied.

Then Dragon summoned the King of the Goraks. Goraks are demons enslaved by anger. Who growled fear into my spine, and rendered me speechless. And again, Dragon placed his hands upon the beast’s brow, and removed its false angry illusion. I literarly felt the beast removed – again, like an outer shell – to behold a being of immeasurable beauty. Again, Dragon offered the Gorak the same gift. And the former King of the Goraks, now remembering his true self, decided that being reborn on Earth doesn’t sound like a bad idea at all. Yet who would he be born to? Entranced by the truth of generosity that Dragon was so clearly revealing, I avidly resounded that I would be honoured to be his father. The sparkling soul agreed, but he asked, “I want my life to be fruitive.” Dragon smiled, eyed me and said with kindness, “Oh, yes, it will be very fruitive.”

A spotless night indeed it was, where beings bound by the chains of their own hell were offered the gift of a new beginning. A poignant memory here is when he invoked he who is known as Vampiric One into Sky’s body. And we beheld the most shocking revelation of the night, when the cloud that had blinded the true nature of this being was removed. He who emerged was Dragon’s brother. There were nine celestial being born within the same egg at the dawn of creation – and Dragon and Vampiric One were indeed from that very egg. Though I should mention, there was more than one egg. Just as there is an infinite choice of originality.

As the conversation progessed I learnt that in some ancient circumstance, Dragon’s brother had made a willful, earnest and compassionate choice to become the Vampiric One. One who sucks on the life energy of others. And instantly, I thought, “this must be the same truth behind the fall of God’s angel. This must be how Satan was also born.” When I was seventeen I had intuitively written a short story on this. That Satan was not truly evil, merely misunderstood. That he, like everyone else, was only playing a role. Because deep down I found it difficult to believe that the heart of any being could be completely rotten and evil. There has to be some good within each and every one of us. Even the serial killers. We all must have, surely must have, been borne from light. The Angel at the right hand of God, in his deepest love, made the choice to forget who he is, and fall into the hell realms, for the necessity of providing man with free-will. In order to choose between heaven and hell, there needs to be a hell. And there needs to be someone who symbolises it. Thus, the Angels were called to task, and who but the most compassionate among them would volunteer?

Let’s move on now, for this story is unfinished unless we return to Atlantis. Because Satan is no martyr, and what I just said is not to make him out to be one. Do not misunderstand. It is an act of compassion, not a sacrifice. He has sacrificed nothing. Not bliss, nor joy. It is not a case of renouncing even his bliss for the sake of humanity, so don’t entertain such vain and tragic notions. He is merely playing a role, and our love and kindness is equal among us all. There is no question of one being greater than another – simplicity lies in equality.

Atlantis had appeared before me in many forms. Once Dragon took me to a nightclub by the sea, and Atlantis has blossomed into a girl at the club, who invitingly danced before me. Even Dragon pointed her out and motioned for me to take some action. But me, in my arrogance, found her not too physically appealing. Dragon would hound me about that later. Asking me why, and with what right I could ask for nothing less but pure beauty when I am so ugly. Yet me being the stubborn little boy, I took in his words, yet stayed fixed on my little desire.

So yes, offended by being given chocolate for a present, lusting after Atlantis, matters went from bad to worse for me. Day and night, it was in the back of my mind. As much as Dragon tried, he couldn’t even make me see that I was so overwhelmed with lust. No, I didn’t see it at all. If he told me I was, I would think he didn’t see clearly. I would say to myself, “where? Where am I thinking about lust? No, I am thinking this, I am thinking that, but nothing there about lust.” So one day, he channeled Atlantis into Sky’s body. Seeing as I was totally unattracted to Skydragon, the opportunity was there for me to respect and love Atlantis as a being, and not as an object of sexual appetite.

But even so, I must have been mad with desire, because despite that she was sitting beside me in Sky’s form, I felt so very alone. And Dragon asked accusingly, “Oh yes, that’s right, you only prefer to fuck indian virgins, don’t you.” Atlantis turned to me and asked, “Is that true? You want me to come to you in the form of an indian girl?” I was dumbstruck to answer. To say yes felt so… pathetic.

Days passed, much happened. One day I will sequence all the events together, so as to remember them all. They are too precious to be forgotten. One day Dragon told me to go buy some bread and milk. Just that. A twenty minute walk to the shopping mall to buy bread and milk. But this was England, and I cannot fully describe the freshness of a walk down any regular street in England. I don’t know why – but I love it. There is nothing quite like the English weather. Most or many people find it gloomy and depressing. It invigorates me. It rekindles memories of an ancient heritage. Of the times of Merlin, of Avalon. Ah, that must be why.

I bought my bread, bought my milk, and on the walk back was tranced by a childlike playfulness. I grabbed a loitering shopping trolley and did circles on the street, pushing and pulling it about, and at a crossroad, I eyed another innocent looking trolley parked by the pavement. Without thinking, I decided that two is better than one, and dragging my first trolley stalked upto the new entry in the game. No sooner than I had grasped it, the door behind me opened. I spun around, and out walked the most beautiful little sixteen year old Indian girl. I stared in awe, and she stared back. Breathless, speechless, my mind snapped and I walked away, turned the corner, and my mind returned. I thought, “Oh my god, what the fuck was that.” I turned around, and there she was, peeking through the corner at me, rapidly hiding away the moment I saw her again.

With her face in my mind, I treked home, put the bread and milk away then decided to share the incident with Dragon. I explained it innocently – like an excited boy having witnessed some magical thing – and Dragon gave me one of his innocuous looks and sighed, “That was Atlantis, you idiot! You just missed your chance! After all your raving and ranting, she looked around real hard for an Indian virgin girl, just for you. You know, all you had to say was hello. And that would have been all you needed to do, and everything else would have fallen into place.”

All I needed to do was say hello. I have regretted that moment of stupidity for a long long time. But what a wonderful lesson it has been. It is in no small measure that in describing the truth of the Goddess – of that which I see to be the core of my heart – so much baggage was instantly dropped. It is only a mask we hold. Like a hungry ghost.


~ by revolutionwithin on March 27, 2009.

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