I have been braced for conflict from the moment I set foot upon this contradictory landscape. It is night upon the Path of Ayin, and once Mercury went into retrograde, the way back became blocked with deliberate darkness. I could either wait out the astrological event and sit on the side of the road, or I could continue forward.
I chose to proceed under the cold light of Hanael’s white aura. The angel never left his position in the sky at the true zenith of the heavens. He watched everything I did with disinterest and lack of response.
I found myself blocked often, but upon examination, each roadblock was revealed to be something of my making. Either an unchallenged bias or falsely held belief. Sometimes an electrified fence charged by my fears and uncertainties. Sometimes a confrontation where I have to examine my actions and acknowledge I am not as helpless with my faults as I have claimed to be. But never did Hanael move.
I eventually came to the realization that the only force keeping me on the Path of Ayin was me. As long as I felt “The Devil” was some external force, something outside of myself that had undue influence on me, I never made any permanent progression along the path. It was only when I acknowledged that I am my own worst enemy, that I am my own fiercest accuser, did I realize the power of the Devil tarot card.
I know the difference between right and wrong, and sometimes between Right and Wrong, and whenever I make the choice to Not Do Right, I am hurting myself. But what is Right? That is up for each individual to choose for themselves, but once each person makes that choice, they have to live with it. (Never mind that right and Right are not always the same thing. And never mind sometimes we have no other choice but to do wrong now so there will be the opportunity for right later. But here are what the philosophers untie, and no philosopher am I.)
Is there a universal Good? I sometimes think so. But I also think it is a bitch to codify into hard words. I will leave the discussion of what is Good to the philosophers. I have to answer to my self about myself and my ledgers are not as balanced as I’d like.
So under Hanael’s light of righteousness, I confessed my “sins”. I stood with empty hands and detailed the ways I have let myself down, the ways I have betrayed my beliefs, and the ways I have used false helplessness as an excuse to do things I know I should not ought to have done and as excuse to not do things I know I should have.
The road changed.
Gone were the fragments of blasted civilizations. Gone were the blocking boulders and the quicksand traps in between them. Here now were high mountain ridges and nearly vertical cliffs. Here now was rarified air and on a far distant peak, a set of six glowing arches that I knew led to the entrance to the sphere of Tiphareth.
Freed from the burdens of being my own Devil, I found myself with the ability to leap from cliff to cliff with abandon. Without guilt to hold me back, I could start those plans and machinations meant to better myself and my life. As I danced from goal to goal, I realized that to those that would judge me for not being them, I am being arrogant and ego-driven. How dare I not accept their judgement upon me? How dare I seek to live my life by principles other than their own?
I realized then the other side of the Devil card. To those that have defined their life by their chains, my freedom was an affront and a terror. To those that have placed fear as the boundaries of their limits, I was someone that defied what powers they have placed above them. By not accepting their limits as mine, I broke the rules. The Godless have power the Gods can’t wield, and so the faithful call us Devils. (And yet I am reminded of Icarus even as I soar. There are limits to my reach. To assume otherwise is to be blinded by the Devil again.)
I left them behind. I could not answer to them, nor answer for them. The closer I came to the gate of Tiphareth, the more I realized that for all the mental agility that came from my exploits in the sphere of Mercury, Hod, that focus came at a cost. My mind was unbalanced, and my body would suffer for it as I sacrificed too much sleep for mental training pursuits. Other events in my life that may or may not have come about as a result of tapping into the current of the Path of Ayin had also left me with a metaphorical weak gait and an unsteady countenance. I needed the attention of a doctor, but not necessarily one for the flesh.
The brilliant door that was the formal exit from the Path of Ayin glowed softly yet sternly. The alchemical sign of the Sun gleamed near the top of the door. Instead of a doorknob, six black marks were arranged in the geomantic figure of Carcer.
I tapped around and through the figure to cover Carcer with Conjunctio, leaving no marks of my own at first until I had tapped out the last dot. My figure flared in brilliance and the two figures merged to create the figure of Via. The door unsealed itself and swung open slowly. I stepped back enough so the sweep would not knock me over.
I passed through the gleaming wall of light that served as the threshold. I was blinded by the increased and pervasive light that greeted me as I stepped onto Tiphareth for the first time. Without any visual marker of up or down, I became dizzy and stumbled. A large and warm hand caught me and held steady as I oriented myself.
“At last, you have come. I trust you have examined yourself well during your journey. It is easier to cure what is known than to force a remedy between the clenched teeth of denial.”
His words were as soft as the light was brilliant. I was surrounded by heat but I was not hot. I squinted and tried to shield myself against the source of light so I could see the speaker, but found he was actually the light of this place.
“I’m sure for every fault I will admit to, there are ten more I have not the desire to see. But I’ll do what I can. Forgive me, I cannot see you clearly. If I may inquire, who are you, Sir?”
The light dimmed and I saw a very tall and very robust man dressed in a simple white button up shirt and simple black slacks. His skin still glowed with a slightly yellow hued light, but as long as I did not look at his eyes which gleamed like two small suns, I could see without issue. A lyre pendant hung from a gold chain around his neck, and a wreath of living golden leaves sat gently upon his head.
“Some call me the Good Doctor. That will do for a start. Welcome to Tiphareth.”
He laid his free hand on my face. (Such a large hand, but then he is quite large himself!) “You have other matters to attend to. When you are ready, return directly here at will. But until those matters are settled, depart.” He pushed so gently, he would not have disturbed the scales of a butterfly’s wings. He might as well buried me as the effect was to eject me from his presence and the altered state entirely.
And that’s that for the Path of Ayin.