Dog Poet Transmitting…….
A few things have been said about sex at the blogs lately (Hmmm… that doesn’t sound right, perhaps I had better rephrase). What I mean is that sex has been under discussion in some of its metaphysical aspects. This last week I’ve thought about some of it. This brought me around to a consideration of one of life’s biggest mysteries and how that ties in with the prevailing definitions of sanity and what passes for normal.
In the Bible we have the story of Onan and this has to do with wasting the semen. In the New Testament we hear about the power of the blood. Blood and Semen (sounds like it could be the title of one of those English miniseries that involves several generations) have a mystical connection. As was earlier stated, it takes forty drops of blood to make one drop of semen and forty drops of semen to make one drop of the spiritual fluid Ojas; this is according to the traditions of the yogis. In the west we have no such traditions except for whatever vague interpretations we are given for the practice of celibacy. We’ve had ample evidence of late concerning what can happen when you don’t understand celibacy. It’s that chain with the weakest link scenario. In the end it all comes down to plumbing. Whatever’s in the pipes has to go somewhere.
One of our most powerful tools is the imagination. The power of the imagination and other features of the human mind are seldom understood for what they are and as a result they are seldom trained and disciplined for maximum use.
I’m going to digress for a moment and tell a little tale about myself. The most valuable information that we possess is about ourselves. It has a lot to do with how we understand and interpret what happens around us and to us. Information about myself has been denied to me for most of my life and I’ve been given precious little evidence of the meaning of supernatural events that have happened to me. For some reason I am suddenly being given insight into some of this and that is what this story has to do with.
My father was a thirty year career military man and he was connected to the military police for the majority of his service. He was an extremely brutal man, even by the standards of the arena where most fathers were sterner disciplinarians than was common in the wider world. The other military men thought my father was over the top by comparison.
The impress of the force of his nature on my own went to the core of my being. At the age of twelve I had an adult ulcer. It took the doctors a long time to discover the source of my pain because they’d never seen such a thing before. I did not get pubic hair until I was seventeen years old. You can imagine what sort of insecurities might have played out against that backdrop. I did not know what sex was until I was going on fourteen years old. I had no concept of it. Sure, kids talk but it all went by me for some reason. I did not have an orgasm until I was fifteen years old, going on sixteen.
Recently I have come to understand why this happened to me. I’m pretty bright; you would think I would have figured it out long ago. I did not go through puberty like anyone else. As a result, my semen buildup was headed in another direction. That’s all I can make of it at the moment. Once I was away from the emotional slaughter house of what passed for family life I began to have life experiences within the context of being a poet, which I suppose is essentially what I am. Within the first six years of being away from home I was imprisoned for around four of those years in prisons or mental wards; most of the time it was in the maximum security areas for the criminally insane. There was no sex going on at these times either and I am exceedingly grateful for the protections extended to me during these times. Many others were not so lucky.
This is how I came to have a full on Kundalini awakening. While I was imprisoned, I lived as a monk in a strange monastery, so all of my attention was directed inward except for using the eyes in the back of my head as one must do in such locations. I see now that all of this was directed toward channeling my energies in order to bring about what followed.
Let’s go back to a consideration of one of life’s biggest mysteries. It has to do with the way society views the use of semen. We live in an age of epic Onanism. We pour it out upon vain and trivial amusements like it was one more waste product. Essentially we commit suicide. We also destroy our health far more than in any other way because the power in the reconstituted semen is a mighty immune system against the evils of the day. One of the implications of Ojas is ‘immunity’, along with patience and compassion. Even more importantly, the reconstituted semen is like oil in a lamp and it provides illumination in the darkness of this world so that one can see what is happening instead of being an unconscious victim of the lies that compose the fabric of what most people call life.
The most important and most commonly overlooked feature about celibacy is that people think the physical practice is the critical thing. The critical thing is the imagination. If celibacy is not practiced in the mind and the heart to begin with then it’s not celibacy at all, nor will the condition endure for long except as a twisted mockery on the original intent.
Anyone who wants to take the trouble to inquire and who possesses a sufficient objective reasoning ability can soon see that sex and how we understand it is at the core of everything that takes place in the phenomenological world. This is one of the reasons that those who seek to rule us have been playing with our understanding about the sex drive and its applications. It’s also a lot easier to control people if you drain them of their power. All of our power to understand and comprehend comes to us as a result of the channeled sex force. This is far too large and intricate a subject to be treated with in such a brief manner. The reader is advised to make their own inquiries.
Contemporary sexuality and practice has become a rude joke. It’s a serious matter. After all, God wasn’t laughing when he made you, was he? (grin) When we see ourselves as a beast that is what we become and TPTB are working night and day through all the usual channels to convince us of this. The real war is the one going on for the destiny of our souls and the ways in which we identify ourselves. All external conflicts arise as a product of our being deceived into their necessity. Sex is hammered into our heads all day long and the prevalence of rap music is an efficient tool for the dehumanization and debasement of the feminine principle which resides in both men and women and is the source of the higher qualities of our spiritual nature.
Over the last couple of days I took a little stroll through some of the high end sex sites like Domai and MetArt and then some brief forays into the lower end of the spectrum. In a way it tells the tale of the degrees that exist between a raw and perverted nature on the lower end and the presumption of art on the other. I noticed when I clicked on some of the links at the higher end sites that, occasionally, a big warning page would come up in Italian to let me know that I was about to visit a site that trafficked in pedophilia. There was no indication of this prior to clicking the link. After this happened about a dozen times I decided it might be better to move on to other things. I got the distinct sensation that there is no small amount of government activity in relation to internet sex and that surfers are being sent in directions they hadn’t actually intended to go.
I was sitting in a classroom at The Paris American High School at the age of twelve. Puberty would have probably been kicking in at that time but, not for me. It was in the afternoon as I remember and suddenly a wave of enormous love swept through my being. The force of it was beyond my ability to presently render into words. I now see that this is the direction my sexual force was taking because it had been driven that way as a result of conditions in my environment. A few times in my life I have had similar experiences and I can say- without question- that nothing in life approaches the beauty and value of this state of being. One hopes a more sustained condition may yet appear in time.
I’ve come to the end of this piece and I think what I am trying to say is… that it would be of great profit to study the ways in which sex operates in the cultures and look at who is doing what with it and… for what reasons. You might want to acquire some Petri Dishes and glass slides before hand, along with some latex gloves and a spatter mask. The supernatural evolutionary drive of the sex force, at long last, results in the possession of a love and wisdom beyond the reach of words.. unless it gets misdirected into something else whose product is bondage. I’ll leave you to ponder this and see you over at Visible Origami in a day or two.