Believing Beauty
Hey friends,
I hope you are well. :)
Tomorrow’s events:
Writing Meditation w/ Davood Gozli. Every Wednesday @ 9:00 AM ET. RSVP here: April 22nd.
Collective Presencing: A Conversation w/ Ria Baeck. April 22nd @ 12:00 PM ET. Learn more. RSVP here.
Emancipate the Daemon w/ Peter Limberg. Every Wednesday @ 6:00 PM ET. RSVP here: April 22nd.
Building an Aesthetic Movement w/ Rachel Haywire. April 22nd @ 8:00 PM ET. Learn more. RSVP here.
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April 21, 2020
Too much is happening and too fast. Yesterday was probably the most intense day of my life, and it was probably the best. I lost my mind, then I heard the music. I am still processing. The synchronicities were occurring one after the other, everything made sense, and everything was part of the story.
The weight of the symbolic synchronicities gave every aspect of my life purpose, if I choose to believe the narrative that formed. David Fuller, the holy journalist, witnessed a part of it, suggested that I had got caught up in some kind of archetypal vortex. I wrote yesterday's entry after I heard the music, and I knew that when I heard the music it would be over, for now, but I sense we’ll need more than one song.
Maybe I’ll share the details of what happened one day, but I am worried about doing so, as others might start believing what I brought myself to believe at the knife's edge. I asked my wife what she thought was happening, and she said that she thought I wanted a beautiful story. I broke down and cried. Yes, I do want a beautiful story. Maybe true beauty can only exist if we believe in it, and we have all stopped believing.
I want to say I will believe, but I don't feel worthy enough to believe. Is that why the daemon won't leave me alone? Because he knows that I know I am unworthy? I am scared. A demonic energy visited me yesterday. It was the same energy that visited me during my last break, which happened before I started seeing Peterson as a client all those years ago. I was playing chess with him all day, and the moment I knew he had me, I asked brother Daniel to pray. When he texted me “Done,” I was released for a moment, which bought me enough time to make my next move.
When you fully listen to the daemon, he seems to take you to the knife's edge, where the demons are. This is why I have to become unworthy in the right way, this is why I have to become virtuous. I cannot let you down. Not this time. In order to see the beauty, you have to be good, and in order to be good you have to say what you believe to be true, which is what I am doing now: what I believe to be true is that I want beauty.
I want to be done with these spiritual experiences, at least for now. I want to be normal with my wife, or at least try to be. Who am I kidding, I deeply want to be a fucking normie. I cannot sleep. The daemon does not want me to sleep. I feel as I am becoming a digital desert father, going crazy so he can truly see. People are telling me to sleep, I do not know how to listen to them, as I have given myself over to listening to something else.
I just so happen to be wearing a shirt right now that says Violent Gentlemen. Seems to fit my desire for the righteous thumos that has been bubbling up. A part of me doesn’t want to fuck around anymore, a part of me wants to go to war, at the knife’s edge. But no army involves just one man.
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