The Egg — Chapter 0 of Thrice Fallen
Tell me Nicandra, what do you foresee?
And the priestess of Amen, kissed my brow and then whispered in my ear, “eternal sadness.” And so, I fell asleep…
A fool falling…
To where? To what? I know but the fall, and I’ll keep falling until I embrace the fall.
In this world and all the worlds that can be swallowed.
Though my eyes were closed, I could see. And when I looked around… I saw no gate, only millions falling too.
Some were screaming in terror, though I could neither hear the sounds of their screams, nor see what they saw that made them scream. Some were still asleep, and made no effort to awake, and there were others, who were smiling as they fell.
What a lovely picture.
But one among all was not falling. He was lying down like one of those statues of the Buddha, and as I kept falling, he remained in the same spot, right in front of me, not subject to the fall.
Who was this daemon? Red-haired and white like the walls of…
“Hello, I’m Bakochiddy,” it was him; I could hear his voice in my mind. “Do you remember me?”
Hello venerable one. I’m sorry I can’t, though you look very familiar. Have we met before?
“Have you met yourself before?” He had quite the distinguishable laughter.
And when he stopped laughing, Bakochiddy said, “Well, all in good time, now you do remember you have something to do?”
I do. Shall we begin?
This philosopher knows neither Latin nor Koine, or Sanskrit for that matter. Quite likely this philosopher is no philosopher either.
The man who writes this page, is not the same as the one who writes the next one; though both share one shell. The man who starts this work, is not the same as the one who finishes it. To change we are all subject.
I am no Prophet, no Savior, not the best of my kind, I am but a friend, a fellow earthborn, challenged and troubled, in the quest to know, and above all, to understand.
What do I offer?
Maybe nothing new, or at best a thought that might alter your worldview. Take what you can… As I lose my mind, I’m ever closer to fulfilling my purpose. Few will get it, but that’s the best deal one can get. Stańczyk and his audience laugh, but not for the same reason.
At times I might be clear, at others not. I’ll try my best, but then again, no two readers are the same.
Illusions, illusions, illusions… kill them all, or at least try your best to do so. The cost will be great, the process far from the easiest, and you’ll gain maybe not what you expect to gain. Sadness and Madness await, and a laugher like no other. Your cells will laugh, your mind will laugh, your spirit will laugh. And though you will not hear thunderous applauds, you will know, one seat was not empty, and who or what sat there… left with a big smile.
Why? We’ll come to this point often. Be it today, or a thousand years from now in a different reincarnation, all earthborn come to ask why and to try to understand. This means, their spirit is ripe for harvest. It’s time for something more, and only the waters of the spring that hides behind the sun will quench their soul’s thirst.
Tell me, who pays homage to the lonely stones of Hattusa, but for the sweet winds that kiss them still?
Once, an exceptional man of rare nobility used to roam the landscape of this planet, he was called Hermes Trismegistus, the Thrice Greatest. I usually prefer to refer to him with a different epithet instead, the Thrice Born.
Though one can die and be reborn a thousand times even during a lifetime, there are three key births that stand out. Firstly, and naturally, their birth into this world. Secondly and highly celebrated, their coming out of the Cave, their Initiation, the moment they truly begin to live, not just merely exist. Though usually one can be satisfied with achieving their second birth, I think here I share the opinion of many great minds, that there is more, a crucial third birth. To my understanding, one is Thrice Born the moment they realize their purpose in this life, and knowing what that may be, and whatever might be in store for them in their path, they accept all and go on to fulfill it.
Hence the title of this work. To come here, I had to fall, to lose, to be defeated, like many others before me and many more after me. Thrice Fallen I am, Thrice Fallen we are. As below, so above. To Heaven through Hell!
And here I find myself to be,
Blessed to experience Reality.
I did miss the starting gun,
But that doesn’t mean I’m out of time.
In other news…
The human shell is truly a work of art like no other, endowed in esoterical beauty. Yet whoever or whatever designed it, surely a brilliant mind, but not the master of the craft.
The limitations imposed on us are true blessings, in strength, ability, endurance, longevity and so on, the flaw in our design stands elsewhere. How can a material body coexist perfectly with the divine spark that dwells within it? Though both are of the same origin, they are simply not of the same quality. There’s an imbalance in the symbiosis. Instead of coexisting, they clash!
Maybe this is the root of the Sickness of All Ages. We know that there’s something wrong, we can’t fully explain it, but we can feel it.
At this point, I assume the sages of all cultures, developed and advocated for a renunciation of the body and a full embracement of the spiritual; to me this is wrong. An imbalance of such nature cannot be undone by applying another imbalance to the equation. We have to accept what is, train and improve our shells, and embark on the spiritual journey within.
So, who designed our shells? Here one can make a really good case that if they weren’t designed by the Almighty (at least not directly), they were designed by some intelligent lifeform; that very likely based the designs on themselves.
And in these shells, Hu decided to Manifest, for one or a few particular reasons, which we shall explore.
Irrationality is the rule when it comes to our quest, and when you think of it, all appears to be irrational at first. ‘What the fuck is this?’ said someone at a point in their life about existence and existing, and then they laughed.
Though one might have more than one purpose, having achieved at least one, they are far more ready than other individuals for the Great Initiation, Death.
To die before you die. Said in different forms, in different ages, by many great men.
In this plane of existence that we find ourselves to be, there are three constants that rule us and what we do: misunderstanding, disappointment and change. To try to understand them, is to try to understand the mechanism of existence itself.
Everyday god sees god and speaks to god and misunderstands god. What rises from this? Emotions which a pleb would associate as negative: frustration, anger, sadness, pain, rage, bewilderment, you name it. But here, here you begin to understand, if you choose to do so of course. So god begins to see god and starts to acknowledge what he is seeing.
An intelligent mind wants to understand why they felt so, why they reacted in such a way, and sooner or later they know that they can find the answers only in one place; the other side of a mirror.
Why disappointment? In what other way would we move forward? Explore new realms and possibilities, wishing to build a world that hasn’t been built yet. He who has fallen, he has seen!
If those disappointed are true in their quest, then they will accept defeat, but not surrender. A second try means to try to do something in a different way, in aim for better.
And to change we come, sometimes smiling, sometimes bitter. All is change, even the desire not to change. Sooner or later, you’ll wake to its might and bow and be thankful. All that you have, all that you will lose, all that you will see and all that you will feel, comes from change. Its exquisite design, the true mark of the ingenuity of the One. It flows and nothing can stop its flow.
What a privilege, to change.
Do I have doubts? Of course I do. Higher powers have doubts, the One has doubts!
If I am wrong so may I be, but our consciousness and conscience do not always progress by being right. From one point, arrows can go in all directions.
What a privilege, to be wrong.
Bakochiddy smiled at me, stood up and covered the distance between us. And as I kept falling, at one moment he caught one of my legs and now I was a hanging man.
He said, “Odin gave one good eye to understand and know, are you willing to give two, to open your third one?”
To where now?
And before letting go of me, his answer was, “to Sea.”
First chapter of Thrice Fallen :)