We are here, Now, in this eternal Never, for a moment’s respite from the unheralded and covert war we wage, to reassure each other, to exchange brief tales and encouraging glances, and then to jump back in – for the battle is on, they told me, and we are all doing our parts.
For most of my life, it seems, I thought my job here, the reason for my existence, was to figure things out – to arrive at an understanding of what was going on, of how the world works, of from who or what it sprang, and where it was or is going, if anywhere. More than anything, I wanted to understand what existence is, and what it means. I guess I never really thought that that would be an achievable end; or that if it were, when the Answer to the Question had come to me, I would not know what to do with it.
I probably thought, when I had that kind of ego and those kinds of aspirations, that having come to an understanding which no one before me had ever truly achieved (because if they had, why wouldn’t they have just told me about it?), I would become some sort of guru, visibly possessed of the knowledge and understanding for which wise men sought. It seemed to me, I guess, that if I in fact completed and returned from the Hero’s Journey, Golden Fleece in hand, I would be renowned and sought ever, respected and admired, and would spend the rest of my eternally peaceful days dispensing cryptic pearls of wisdom to appreciative masses. It never occurred to me that over half a lifetime later, having remembered being sent as part of a dispersed, covert group into this world, having spent half a century as a sleeper agent in the realm of the Demiurge, I would be awakened to find that I had everything but the specifics of my mission. Who would have guessed that the answers to the questions I had sought were so simple but so incomprehensible to 99% of the people to whom I would try to communicate them?
I remember now, those timeless moments whose memory was granted to me when I was at a nadir and needed them most, those moments around the nonexistent campfire with my eternal companions who wore the false faces, for the purposes of my vision, of humans I had known since childhood. When the message was given to me: We are here, Now, in this eternal Never, for a moment’s respite from the unheralded and covert war we wage, to reassure each other, to exchange brief tales and encouraging glances, and then to jump back in – for the battle is on, they told me, and we are all doing our parts.
Having been granted that vision, it took me years to make any sense at all of it. Being probably in my forties at the time, I was in deep cover. My cover was so deep, that like those sleeper agents in earth’s petty conflicts who become so embedded within the culture in which they are hidden, that they “go native” and forget their missions, that it took me years to wake up.
I remember being born into a world of confusion – as a child, my first memories and sense of primitive identity. I remember, I think, the formation of the ahamkara, of the sense of self. I remember discovering that I lived in a dense and hostile world. I remember the first time something I loved was stolen from me and I had to become someone else to get it back (to my credit, it sits beside me now as I type). I remember staring at the creatures they told me were my fellows, and realizing they lacked the ability to think. I remember growing up in a nonsensical world, where cartoon adults communicated absurd and unbelievable religions and values, and finding in it no others of my kind.
I remember a desperate sense of wanting to belong – to someone, to something. But the ones I loved (and I did love them) had no understanding and sought only others of their own kind. I remember existence becoming not so much a pain, for I was never a depressive soul, but a frustration, and unanswerable riddle, which I finally in my despair decided to abandon. I remember deciding, around the time I was twenty, that understanding could come only through the destruction of the rational mind, the mind that had served me so well to that point in terms of accomplishments of this world, which others admired, but which I had come to despise as an inadequate tool.
How I have wished that I had the mind back today, that I set out to destroy in 1977! Now that I have uses to which it could be put. But these are vain regrets. I had to do what I did to know what I know. The chains with which I was bound – with which we are all bound, those of us who are truly of, from and for more than this earth – were so hard to break, that I had to hammer at them day and night for forty years to loose them. I had to smash them so hard and so long with that bloody ax that I am amazed to have emerged with any brain cells or any health, yet I seem to have done so. And there lies the blessing and the curse.
I think that by the time I was twenty-five I had given up on the personal relationships that most seek, find, and find normal. I sought only co-journeymen, and held some vain hope of finding a teacher to unleash it all. But don’t be deceived, I was looking in foul places. Not for me was to be any right-hand path. There were no monasteries or departments of Philosophy in my future. There was no rigorous physical training or mental discipline, no mastery of languages or science or any useful technology. And of course there was no wife nor family. There were none of the things that, looking back and knowing that the answers which I sought so hard were so simple, I would not have begrudged myself not only as blessings, gifts and rewards, but also as necessary tools. There was instead a dark battle in subterranean clouds, with alcohol and drugs, with dark and murky companions. Finding no place in the world and no one to whom to express, let alone share, my quest.
There was a reprieve at one time, of which I was able to make only some use. When at age twenty-eight I was able to sober up for almost five years, learn some elementary skills of physical and spiritual training with which I was able to return to the vortex with the ability to survive for another quarter century, until an emerging consciousness could no longer be denied. Strangely, the stages of my awakening were signaled by the deaths of each of my parents. My mother’s death in 2003 was coordinated with personal trauma and deserved persecution which led me after my emergence from that tunnel the next year, to return to the “spiritual” practice I had begun around 1980 but was too embattled in my own dark pursuits to continue. I adopted modernized sham systems and beliefs, trying to return to some more archetypal understanding through Western Zen, which is an impossible joke, but it did lead me to resume meditation.
And I have told the story too many times before, of how after much of this, I found, not nothing, but something.. that when existence shattered into shards like ball bearings that crashed and dance away across the concrete floor, I perceived, not Nothing, but Something. In the darkness that remained when the false appearance had gone, I saw dim shapes emerging in primordial clouds. I perceived the forms of all that had gone before, whence I came, and who remained for me. Of my eternal companions. I knew that I was Someone who had come here from Somewhere to do Something. And the next years were to be spent trying to sort that out.
It took me five years to develop a sense of racial, ancestral self. By the time my father died at the end of 2012, I was finally coming to an understanding but it is only really in this last year or so that I see what is really going on here. I see that I was sent to this dark and corrupted earth at the end or turning of an age, to do something – but what? I see the mortal, physical manifestation of my people being hounded, pursued by the slaves of the Demiurge, facing extinction and death. If I did not know better, I would swear that it appears that all that is good and holy upon the earth may be destroyed in my lifetime. I know that We come, as the earth comes, from God and what is good. I know that the world in which we life has become corrupted by a darkness, a disease that is unique to this time and place, and that that darkness will eventually annihilate itself, and the earth (or the space in which it stood) will be cleansed.
And if I were a younger man, who had this understanding, I know what I might do. And it is clearly someone’s duty to learn skills, to acquire knowledge of the earth and its peoples, especially his own people. It is clearly someone’s duty to raise a family. It is clearly someone’s duty to lead a re-emergent Nation. But not mine. Because in the process I have had to complete, to learn what I had to learn and to know what I know, I have lost those options, if I ever had them. Now I stand nearer the end of a Journey holding a hard-won key without a lock in sight.
I have studied German and Sanskrit and am fluent in neither. I have gone to Mother Europe to touch that hallowed ground, and gotten in and out before the coming war. I have been working on becoming as strong, physically and mentally, as I can be. I have made other preparations. And at least to some degree I have found companions. At last after almost sixty years, I know there are others who are at least somewhat like me, although they are rarely in the same physical environment as I, and some I have never met in person. Some I know only through their writings. But I have shaken the hands and met with others, and I know that we are real. And I have other companions in this world, who do not come from the same place as I do and do not share the same duty or even world as I, but whom I love.
And yet I have a silly little job and a little house and stand mostly naked and alone in the face of what appears to be a time of destruction and resurrection. I feel like an unnecessary herald.
So what is my place in this world? I don’t know. Perhaps it will be revealed to me. Several years ago, when at last I completed what has been the most traumatic stage of my battle to date – at least when I emerged from darkness to consciousness, when I had gathered up the Runes and fallen back again, I did so in part by composing for myself a prayer, whose details have not been spoken by me for the same reasons these things of old were never recorded, but which involved some ritual elements which were perhaps unconscious to me at that time, and which shall not be spoken here. But after the invocation which opens and secures the door, I simply ask:
Please show me my duty, and give me the strength to do it.
And it is for that I am looking and waiting.