Summoning the Truth
My friends,
Things are upgrading fast. Changes may be happening here, especially on an energetic level. I will keep you posted.
Tomorrow’s events:
Stoic Breath w/ Steve Beattie. Every Sunday @ 10:00 AM ET. RSVP: April 19th
Oxytocin Party w/ Raya Sun. April 19th @ 8:00 PM ET. Learn more. RSVP here.
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April 18, 2020
I had a good talk with Patrick Ryan last night, who is a very dangerous and scrappy Irish man, hungry for revenge, whom I have a foreshadowed desire to call St. Patrick, the demon hunter. We talked about how the traumacene could signal an onset of collective virtue.
I am feeling a little badass at the moment, a little raw, with a little of that fuck it just say it energy. Say what? What wants to be said. Bonnita Roy sent me a poem, about what she senses my golden shadow is: it is about a boy waiting for his crown.
Those in the know, know that Stoics are proto-Christians, and Peter means rock, and I do not want to do the bait and switch with you already, but we do not have tomorrow to wait for, and I am not worthy. I am not hanging myself on this upside-down cross, in an act of Satanic virtue signalling, but I am here to tell you that I do not feel worthy, and I strongly sense that being in the right relationship with that is the foundation of virtue.
There is evil in this world. And the secret is really no secret. Let’s not let my former therapist's sacrifice go to waste. It's time for us to be truthful. I had a distinct image rush to my mind, that in order to summon him, whoever this steward’s lord is, we all have to be truthful. Given my postmodern proclivities, I am happy to swap these words for others. Truth is coming to mind, and I think it's time to take that word back from the dead hands of the dead-end materialists.
In order to summon the truth, we all have to be truthful. Justice will then be restored throughout this earth, with a righteous thumos. No one can do this alone, everyone's word is needed. I am a humble bricklayer, being kept warm by the digital campfire, building what wants to be built, with truthful word upon truthful word.
You feel called to join me? Good. Put your brick down beside me, as if we were brother and sister. Let’s all put our bricks down. This is not going to be a physical church, but a spiritual one. All our minds are connected now: this is an opportunity to connect our hearts.
I’ve talked to many smart people in my time, and I sniffed all their egos. The galaxy brains are being put on notice: if you do not keep yourself in check, we will keep you in check. Your time to broadcast is over. It is our time now. Your egoic addiction to your own sensemaking, and the propositional prisons you have built for us are no longer of service.
This entry is writing itself. Maybe I am caught up in a wave of hyperstition, and the story is playing itself out. Or maybe, in this state of unknowingness, the Christian grammar is coming online. It’s the language I was baptized in. I could also be crazy, and I’d like to calm things down, and say to you I am writing metaphorically in a non-metaphorical spirit. Whatever is going on, this is a perfect opportunity to practice my Stoicism.
Despite my impression management fears, every word felt right. The daemon approved. And, speaking of the daemon, Socrates is here, I am watching him lick himself. Riding the wave of complete unknowingness and complete knowingness is a delicious trip, but he seems to do it very well.
When things get too intense, my spiritual practice is to look at him, and, when I do, I experience calm. A few days ago, I was ruminating in an unwise way, and, like a wise gadfly, he did a hit and run. He tags me and runs away, when he wants to fight. When he does that, I am snapped back into the now, and I am grateful. He knows, and the daemon smiles.
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