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luminashdawnwing · 25 days

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Gnothi Sauton (Part I)

Author's note: this began as the day 7 prompt for the February DWC, but rapidly spiraled out of control and became a full conclusion series. This first part is fairly long, but has breaks!

There was little Theras enjoyed more than taking a quiet opportunity to fill the pages of his sketchbook. Since he had come to the Dream, the empty pages in his current volume had dwindled to nearly nothing. One of those final blank spaces was being filled, charcoal sweeping across the page, a delicate scratching sound lost almost entirely to the rustling of leaves in the canopy above. The way the light danced between those leaves, the way it dappled the soft grass, it was a perfect subject.

Footsteps approaching from the direction of the camp at Amirdrassil’s base broke the silence.

“Theras Dawnwing.”

The woman’s voice was unfamiliar, and he had heard none like it before. It echoed, as if spoken from down an empty hall, yet was sharp enough to command immediate attention.

The young ranger clapped his notebook shut, the snap of the newcomer’s voice flooding his mind with ice, as if thrown abruptly into a winter pond. He turned his head to see who had spoken with such intent, smoothing a lock of scarlet hair from his face.

Her voice had been something new and unfamiliar, and so she proved to be as well. A head taller than any elf he had seen, her cold eyes bored into Theras, brilliant blue set against sandy skin, hair so brilliant blonde that the light filtering between the leaves made it shine like the sun.

Her garb, too, was strange, a gown, shimmering bronze and accented with swooping silver details, tapering into curls that called to mind nothing more than claws, sweeping out behind her.

Shaking off his stupor, Theras stood and turned to face the newcomer. The moment of shock ended, he met her gaze – with some difficulty, for the force of those eyes seemed to turn his away. Reptilian pupils met elven glow.

Before the young man could speak, the dragon continued, “It is high time we met, young Dawnwing. Proper introductions must come later, though. Listen well: I am a colleague of your father’s, and I am afraid to say that he needs your aid.”

** ** **

“Why do you spare me? Why will you not just let me die?!” The imprisoned doppelgänger shouted at his captor. The words were not empty, Luminash felt. This man truly felt he had nothing left.

“Because you and I are the same,” Luminash replied, idle steps taking him around the edge of the hollow in which he had been ambushed. The movement helped distract him from the strain of maintaining his spell. How long could this last before he had no choice but to give his other self his wish?

“We share a name, we share parents, we share…nothing, not any longer,” the other replied, the fiery light of his eyes hidden still under their lids.

“We share more than you think. Since Eon’s Fringe, I – we – have seen so many glimpses of our own possible lives. Surely you know there is a way back from even this, yes? I can–”

“Offer me help?” The fallen magister finished his counterpart’s thought, “No. Everything you possess that gives you meaning, I have lost. This is the…” A pregnant pause, “It must be the only way.”

Luminash had begun to recognize the signs of doubt in this one. From the first moment of his attack, there had been something eating away at the other, as surely as the shadowflame ate away at his spirit.

“But you don’t believe that, not anymore. What has your Infinite promised you?” The magister continued his circuit, body tense with exertion at holding the weave of his spell for so long.

The scarred elf’s eyes shot open, “You saw.”

“I did. As I am sure you saw me with the Bronze. I know you are having second thoughts.” The other opened his cracked lips to respond, but Luminash continued, “I had second thoughts, too, when approached by the Timewalkers, when they tried to sell me on their mission. For so long, I – we – viewed them as untouchable keepers of some fabricated ‘true timeline.’ I do not know still if I believe strictly in such a timeline, but for those of us who have honed the skill to see possibilities, should we not use those skills to better the world we live in?”

Silence, while the suspended elf waited to see if his captor would continue. Then, “That is what I aim to do. Caeridormi gave me the chance to take my family back. That would better my world, correct the mistakes of the past. It would make…” A sizzling, as tears welled and broke loose, the heat of his skin drying them as they came, “Theras would brighten my world’s future.”

“But he would not be yours. You must have asked yourself what Theras himself would think.” Luminash watched the contortion of his doppelgänger’s face. Of course he had, and oh, how it pained him, “You do not need to do this. There are Infinite dragons who have seen that their path leads only to destruction. If you are set on fixing the mistakes of the past, you need not work against me. I can help you.”

“And why would you do this? I…” He choked, a sob welling in his throat. He should have been filled with rage, this infuriatingly perfect mirror of himself deigning to offer him aid, talking down to him…and yet, he was not. Only a deep gulf remained in his heart, fire swallowed up by the dark.

“Because you and I are the same,” the magister repeated, “How easily I could have been you, how easily you could have been me. A moment’s difference, that is all. I do not bear you any ill will. We both know it is easier to roll over and die than to accept the pain life has given us. Our eyes – both of us – saw the Scourge ravage our home. We both saw our Prince betray our people. The rug has been pulled out from beneath us again and again, and yet we remained. You have that strength now, too.”

Strength. What a word it was. A luxury. The spell was draining more and more from him, and he felt it with every passing moment, every word from his lips. The other, he saw, had wriggled his fingers, had taken a deeper breath. The bonds were growing lax.

What would happen, should words fail? Time grew short.

** ** **

“He is not here,” Theras stated matter-of-factly, letting his grip on his spear loosen. Caeridormi – she had introduced herself by name as she had led the ranger to their destination, a root-bound grotto uncomfortably close to the Primalist front.

His father, the dragon had related, came upon a disturbance in the flow of time near the Primalists, and had reason to believe the Infinites intended to meddle in the fate of Amirdrassil, a final gambit after their failed assault on the Temporal Conflux. He had rushed off, as he was wont to do, and sent word back to Caeridormi to get help.

“Then we have little time,” the dragon replied as she strode into the grotto, footsteps leaving imprints in the soft, damp soil, “If he fell into the timeways…”

Something was certainly not right here. She had made it sound as if other Timewalkers would be there already, yet there was no sign.

“And the others?”

She only shook her head, “They must have slipped away with him. A moment.” She strode further into the hollow, shining and shimmering with her otherworldly glow even in the low light.

The ranger took in his surroundings as his companion did, though he only had his mortal senses while her hands swirled with brazen sand, scrying for further disturbances no doubt. In the otherwise silent space, it sounded like a gentle breeze over dunes.

He tightened his grip on his spear again and began to edge towards the entrance while the dragon focused elsewhere. He could not place why his skin crawled and the hair of his neck stood on end, but…

No footprints. There were no other footprints here but their own.

He raised his spear, pointing directly at Caeridormi.

“Where is my father?” Theras asked, his voice wavering slightly. It sounded, to his ears, to have come from somewhere far away.

Caeridormi turned, the magic swirling around her hands dispersed, tiny motes of bronze light fluttering down to the ground, the rustling of sandy winds dying too, leaving only an oppressive quiet, the quiet of the moment before a hawk seized its prey and bore it writhing away in its talons.

In that silence, her form shimmered, golden bronze and sandy tan shifting, as if a trick of the light, replaced with deep blue-black and ashen white. Infinite.

“Oh, now you’ve gone and made this difficult on yourself.”

** ** **

“Let me send you home. Whatever the Infinites have promised is not worth whatever they will take in return,” Luminash said through gritted teeth. The strain was so much he could scarcely bear it. The threads felt drawn so tight around his fingers that he was surprised to see them pink and healthy rather than purple and swelling with blood.

“Caeridormi will send me and Theras back when my task is done,” the other Luminash replied, “I do not need your help! If you will not simply end me, then at least let me be in silence!”

The frustration was new, the magister noted. A good sign? Or a sign, at least.

“Very well, then,” he concluded, “Luminash.”

There it was: the shock, at being addressed by name, at hearing his own name fall from his own lips. Of being seen.

Then, something tore, a shudder jolting through the threads of magic flowing around him. He did not know where it had come from, or what it had been, but the threads slipped, just for a moment, and the captive fell to earth, along with the exhausted magister.

** ** **

Caeridormi’s stride was swift, with scarcely a breath passing between her truth being revealed and her ashen hands wrapped around Theras’ throat. The young elf was lifted off the ground, a slight squelching sound as his boots pulled from the muddy floor of the grotto, and his hands grasped at the dragon’s clawed gauntlets, a desperate scrabble to be free, to breathe.

Her other hand rose, a new swirl of brazen sand appearing as she traced a circle in the air. There was a rending, a palpable tear in the Arcane, as a portal began to form, a murky opening in midair, obscured by swirling sand around its surface, like trying to look through clouded glass. Even without his father’s gift for magic, Theras could feel the power Caeridormi wielded in his bones.

“This could have been much easier on you, little Dawnwing, if you’d just followed my lead. Now we risk the Bronze flight crashing down on our heads, and for what? So you could play detective? Well, congratulations,” the dragon sneered. Even in her position of power, Theras noted as he continued – in vain – to struggle, breath coming more and more shallowly through her grip, she was agitated.

“Why…me…” the ranger managed to rasp. It was risky, but if he could buy time, perhaps he could think of something.

She bent her arm, pulling him closer, her eyes locked to his, those of a predator toying with prey, “Insurance, simply put. It is not about you, child, but what you represent to certain others. To me, a pretty little tool to keep my timeline moving along as it ought.”

“What…others…do…” he choked on his words, sputtering out. It was easier to breathe in this position, but he could see darkness out of the corners of his eyes.

She only smiled in response, “Rest, Theras. Everything is about to change.”

** ** **

Luminash’s ears rang as he blinked the haze away from his eyes. How had he held on as long as he had? A few feet in front of him, his other self sat looking just as stunned as he must have.

“You…felt it too,” the doppelgänger stated flatly. Not a question, but certainty. We are the same. There was greater truth to that than simply a shared history, it seemed.

“I did,” Luminash answered, words carried by a sharp exhalation. His whole body was shaking from the exertion of his spell, and he could scarcely lift his hands from the grass beneath him. Why had his flame-scarred copy not moved against him?

The other’s face betrayed little, but his brows furrowed.

“What is it?” Luminash ventured.

“That is… The same feeling I had when Caeridormi brought me here.” The fallen magister looked to be a thousand miles away, mind racing behind burning eyes. Was that a look of hurt? Betrayal?

“What are we to make of it, then?” Luminash finally managed to push himself to his feet, though his legs still wobbled as he stood.

The other was silent, staring, unfocused. When he did speak, gone was any trace of choking back sobs, or any shakiness from tears; only a dazed sort of certainty remained, “She is taking Theras.” He met the standing magister’s eyes, “To ensure my…good behavior.” He grimaced, then, a face that Lumiansh knew well how to make himself, “If I do not kill you, she will take Theras from both of us. I will lose him again if I do not act.” The grimace gave way to a look of pleading, the look of a man utterly broken, a man for whom hopelessness had eclipsed all else. He must act, but could not. The magister’s breath caught in his chest. After a moment of hesitation, he extended a hand to the scarred elf at his feet, “Then let us act.”

#luminashdawnwing #story

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kareem-99 · 1 year

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لنفترض إني خلعت الساعة اللي في إيدي وجبتلك ورقة وقلم وقولتلك ارسم الساعة بتاعتي "بدقة"، وعشان انت رسام موهوب الطلب بالنسبالك كان عادي وروتيني. رسمت الهيكل الخارجي للساعة، الأطراف، الجزء الدائري اللي في النص، وبعدين لما وصلت للعقارب بدأت تلاحظ حاجة كان المفروض نتفق عليها من الأول، وهو إن عقارب الساعة بتتحرك، إزاي ترسم حاجة بتتحرك؟

رفعت القلم من على الورقة وقعدت تفكر شوية في شكل العقارب، ترسمها زي ما كانت في اللحظة أول ما طلبت منك ترسم الساعة، ولا ترسمها زي ما هي دلوقتي حالاً، ولا ترسمها زي ما هتكون وانت بتسلم الرسمة؟

قرار صعب شوية مش كده؟ لكن ماذا لو أثناء رسمك للساعة مش العقارب بس هي اللي بتتحرك، لونها كمان بيتغير. قرار أصعب مش كده؟ لكن ماذا لو أثناء رسمك للساعة هيكل الساعة الخارجي هو كمان شكله بدأ يتغير، اجزائها، كمان مكوناتها كلها؟

لو فاكرني بتكلم عن الساعة فانت غلطان، أنا بتكلم عليك انت، على ذاتك، شخصيتك، أو بمعنى أدق هويتك. إزاي ممكن حد يعرف نفسه في الوقت اللي نفسه ذات نفسها بتتغير باستمرار؟

إزاي ممكن نتناول الموضوع ده من غير ما نقع في فخ الIdentity Crisis اللي وقع فيه المؤرخ اليوناني بلوتارخُس؟

بلوتارخُس كان بيحاول يفسر قصة الملك الأسطوري ثيسيوس مؤسس أثينا، اللي قتل الوحش مينوتور في جزيرة كريت وبعدين رجع بسفينته التاريخية لأثينا كبطل قومي. وعشان أهل أثينا يخلدوا ذكراه، فضلوا محافظين على السفينة بتاعته لمدة الف سنة، عشان كل سنة في ذكرى قتله لمينوتور، يعيدوا تمثيل الرحلة بالسفينة تاني من أثينا إلى كريت .. وهنا تبدأ المعضلة، إزاي أهل أثينا يقدروا يحافظوا على سفينة ثيسيوس لمدة 1000 سنة بحالها؟

بالنسبة لأهل أثينا الموضوع كان سهل، كل ما قطعة من السفينة تخرب أو تتبهدل، بيبدلوها بقطعة جديدة من نفس النوع عشان تفضل السفينة قادرة على الابحار. تمام كده حد عنده اعتراض؟ لا مش تمام، بلوتارخُس عنده اعتراض.

بلوتارخُس بيقول إن بعد مدة معينة أهل أثينا هيكونوا قاموا بتبديل كل قطعة من السفينة بقطعة جديدة، ومش هيتبقى أي أثر للسفينة الأصلية، وكأنهم كده كل سنة بيقوموا بالرحلة التاريخية بتاعتهم بسفينة مزيفة!

لكن الكلام ده ممكن يكون صح لو أهل أثينا غيروا السفينة كلها مرة واحدة، إنما هما كانوا بيغيروا قطعة بقطعة فالسفينة كده المفروض تفضل زي ما هي مش كده؟

رجع بلوتارخُس وقال هبسطهالكم، لنفترض إن السفينة أ هي السفينة اللي سافر بيها ثيسيوس، والسفينة ب هي السفينة اللي انتوا بتحتفلوا بيها بعد الف سنة، بالعقل كده يخوانا هل أ = ب؟

بلوتارخُس مسكتش، ده كمان عمم الموضوع على الهوية بتاعة الإنسان وقال إنها بتشبه السفينة دي، وعشان كده الهوية بتتغير كل يوم، بل كل ساعة، بل كل دقيقة، فلا يمكن إن الإنسان يعرف نفسه أبداً وحتى الحكمة Gnothi Sauton او Know Thyself (اعرف نفسك) اللي منحوتة على معبد أبولو اليوناني دي كمان وهم، خرافة، غاية مستحيلة مينفعش حد يسعى ليها!

هتقولي خلاص يا كريم، بلوتارخُس قفلها وغالبًا عنده حق. هقولك استنى، لو عايزين ننجوا من فخ بلوتارخُس لازم نهرب من تشبيهه الأول وبعدها ممكن نوصل لنتيجة مختلفة.

تعالى نستبدل مثال السفينة بشقة، هل لو غيرت كل الأثاث في شقتك هتصحى الصبح تلاقيها مش شقتك؟ طبعا لأ، طب ايه الفرق بين المثالين؟ إن اثاث الشقة بيمثل الشخصية والشقة نفسها بتمثل الهوية، وده الخلط اللي وقع فيه بلوتارخُس، السفينة بتتغير مع الوقت زي ما الشخصية بتتغير مع الوقت، إنما الهوية مش بتتغير بسهولة كده، عشان كده نقدر نقول إن الشخصية جزء من الهوية زي ما الأثاث جزء من الشقة، لكن مش هو اللي بيعرّفها.

أنا اتكلمت عن مسألة الهوية في بوست من قريب وازاي المفروض نربطها بحاجة أكبر وثابتة مش متغيره. لكن حتى لو حلينا مشكلة الهوية هنلاقي إن المشكلة نفسها لسه متغيرتش، الشخصية لسه بتتغير، انت نفسك لسه بتتغير، ازاي نقدر نتعامل مع التغييرات دي؟

عالم النفس السويسري كارل يونج كان شايف إن كل تغير في الشخصية المفروض يكون الهدف الاساسي من هو الكمال النفسي أو ال Psychological Wholeness، ويونج مؤمن إن دي الغاية اللي المفروض الانسان يفني حياته من أجلها. طيب ايه هو الكمال النفسي ده يا عم يونج؟

الكمال النفسي هو حالة مثالية تكون فيها كل قوانا الكامنة في حالة استخدام وكل عناصر العقل اللاواعي يتم تطبيقها بشكل واعٍ لتحقيق أفضل فائدة ممكنة. ده المسمى الأكاديمي بتاعها، أما المسمى العملي (اللي يهمنا هنا) هو إن الانسان يصل إلى أفضل نسخة ممكنة من شخصيته.

يونج بيشوف النفس على أنها كيان ميتافيزيقي غير محدود، قابل للتمدد والتطور والتحسن دايماً، وعشان كده بيشوف كل حاجة بيتعرضلها الانسان في حياته كأنها أدوات لتطوير الشخصية والوصول بيها للنيكست ليفيل في النضج والحكمة، أدوات تصب في مصلحة السعي للكمال النفسي اللي مش هنوصله أبداً. طب طالما مش هنوصله نسعى له ليه؟ عشان السعي تجاهه والتحسن المستمر والتقدم التدريجي ناحيته، هو اللي بيدي لحياة الانسان معنى ولتغيرات شخصيته اتجاه وبيحميه من التخبط وسط التغيرات اللي مش بتخلص.

نظرية يونج مهربتش أوي من معضلة بلوتارخُس لكنها في نفس الوقت قدرت تحطها في إطار وسياق يخدم الشخص مش الشخص اللي يخدمه، على أساس إن التغيرات المستمرة مش حاجة وحشة ولا المفروض تتوه طول ما الواحد قادر يوجهها تجاه الوصول لأحسن نسخة منه وأكتر Version ناضح وحكيم وقريب ولو مللي من الكمال النفسي اللي يونج كان بيحلم بيه.

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hrishislines-blog · 1 year

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The Greeks said "Gnothi sauton” and the French said “Connais toi toi même”. Meaning?

"Gnothi sauton” and “Connais toi toi même” translate to “Know thy self”, “Know yourself” is one of the most famous lines of Socrates. What does this phrase really mean? Why does it matter? How is the answer going to help me even if I pursue such a philosophical question? Or is it a rhetorical question? We obviously heard a lot of things about social media and from people in general that true happiness is really in the inside, and that the real beauty is in the inside. How are these questions related to knowing my true identity? By the way, what is inside?

Who am I? Or, What am I? Let us establish a little principle before we cut to the chase. If you were a camera, what all can you see? You can see your phone in your hand, the table in front of you, the couch on which you are etc., But the real question is can you (a camera) see yourself (camera)? No right. So, If I/you were a camera at this moment, I/you cannot know or even imagine what itself would look like. That means the perceiver cannot perceive itself. I hope you agree.

Alright, having said that, Let’s come back to the question of who am I? Following the established idea, lets form an analogy. What can I see right now? Of all that I see externally, I can see with my eyes the books in front of me, the phone in my hands, my watch on my wrist, and my hands holding my phone. Considering what you can see externally, That’s obviously not you. Now, let’s go a step closer to ourselves, if I close my eyes or even if I don’t, I see my thoughts and feelings going around in my mind without a second’s break. So, I am not either thoughts or feelings. I am neither my body (physical level) nor my thoughts or feelings (subtle level). The fascinating thing is that we even see when we dream (REM – Rapid eye movement sleep) with our eyes closed. Who is seeing the dream, when our eyes are actually closed? We certainly don’t live in the dream, or we are not the dream, but who’s that observer? Quite fascinating right. Even in the state of deep sleep, we know after we are awake that we just had the most refreshing and happiest in the state of deep sleep. So, there is an experiencer there too, maybe that we are not really mindful/conscious. Deep sleep happens every night we sleep and we try to pull the sheets to cover ourselves and are repulsive to get out of bed early in the morning every day coz the sleep is so blissful. Where are we going in deep sleep? What is happening in deep sleep? Are we even there? Surely, we exist in deep sleep because we remember that the night's sleep had been blissful and rejuvenating. So, here is the key, what we experience in a deep sleep state is actually what we are. I don’t mean to say that we are just the sleeping body. We are the observer / an experiencer. Are we that bliss which we experience during deep sleep? We most probably are.

Actually, Indian Maharshi’s called it (for a lack of words or pronoun to that) the bliss body / The core of consciousness /the atman / Jivan / GOD (strange right) / paramatma / the truth and the west called it the soul. The word “GOD” is quite begrimed by many politicians, religious institutes and other half-wits for their benefit, but many ancient cultures believed that everything is God including themselves and people who more reason oriented would like the idea that the depth of one’s consciousness is the ultimate truth which is God or even if not called that, why does it matter since it is the depth one can evolve to.

Though the tides of time washed away great men, they still shine in glory and honour until time lasts by perceiving answers to their quest for the ultimate truth which great men called that. Do you know how Socrates die? The oligarchy successfully conspired against Socrates to a death sentence for a crime of teaching his disciples a particular school of thought, which the oligarchy alleged him of corrupting youth of Athens. When he was given poison to drink, He honoured the judgement even though he had chances to escape; He said “the soul is immortal” and gulped down the poison hemlock down his throat. Can you imagine the audacity? That’s insane right! How could he do it? What would his mindset be like? What a moral standing? Yes, we know that we are not mere flesh and bone and that we are soul, but having it as a theoretical/subject experience is different from knowing it practically. Knowing is knowledge and believing is when you don’t know something. You don’t believe you have hands right? , You know. That’s the difference between belief and knowledge. When one know that one is soul then one is really awake / enlightened ,and one has no death past that point. This knowledge is what gave Socrates the audacity to act as he did. Bodhidharma, the propagator of Chan (to China)/ Zen (to Japan) also called dhyana(meditation), died the same way drinking poison in spite of knowing what he’s drinking. Om namah shivaya

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jokeanddaggerdept · 7 years

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#Michaela Eichwald - gnothi sauton #2015 - acrylic and oil on pleather #89 ¾ x 53 ½ in (228 x 136 cm)#michela eichwald #gnothi sauton #2015

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neptunegoneby · 3 years

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Okay! Hi, nice to meet you again. Huh, I guess to start off with, I’m also in college, and I’m a Cancer Rising. My sun is in the 8th by whole signs in tropical astrology. I’m curious, what is your journey into astrology? Since again, I don’t see people talk about Lilly a lot. I’m into tarot too, but I stalk tarot blogs rather than do them haha

hello! x ooh another 8th houser, i have moon in 8th! i’ve been doing astrology //seriously// for about a decade. it all started because i was born on february 29th (tropical pisces, sidereal aquarius), and googling my birthday sparked my whole interest in astrology. after learning about sun signs and decanates of sun signs, it was a rabbit hole from there. it seemed natural to me and it sparked a long long journey of obsessive learning and very difficult self-study. i prefer to read and i learn better reading things, so for years i’ve spent reading a whole lot of books on different branches of astrology and just spent my time immediately putting it into practice! it started with evolutionary astrology then got into traditional astrology then i got deeper into hellenistic astrology and then jyotisha, and learning about jyotisha astrology blew my mind!

so i ended up researching into sidereal and the history and learned about a lot of the ancient things and found a man called cyril fagan and jim eschelman and kenneth bowser, and spent a lot of time (before) arguing on forums for sidereal and other ancient babylonian/egyptian methods... but soon stopped doing that, for as steiner says, the one who can ‘see into higher worlds’ has an inner world of Devotion, not of Critique... yet still, i mainly use a lot of western and jyotish techniques with mainly sidereal zodiac, campanus, equal and placidus housings i like to use. and i do a lot of uranian/symmetrical astrology... and now i’m a newly-finally professional astrology with a new online shop trying to make it out here in the cosmological astrological frenzied world. just really spending a long time experimenting and attempting to explore as many facets of astrology that this current incarnation will allow me. and fortunately for me, it has been lots and luckily a lot of time to make trial and error (and still forever learning, south node in 9th x) )

but the astrology i practice now, or that in theory that i practice, is probably what people would list under the ‘integral’ category, meaning i’m trying to reintegrate astrology as self-encompassing practice as it once was. astrology is a product of gnosis/knowledge, and the astrology being done today is a 21st century manifestation of this gnosis. still as timeless and self-encompassing i think we’re on a forefront of a post-aperspectival that gebser mentions, and astrology can be pushed into the new medium. recognizing astrology as the demiurge’s personal clock (which i defintiely soon will be making a cool post about) will allow us all to be able to reveal astrology, once again, for the entity that it is (in a good way). a lot of my now understandings and theories of astrolgoy comes from reading a lot of source texts, and in general i’m interesting in aurobindo/coomaraswamy/valerian/wilbur/spengler/gebser/steiner integral type of theories, jainism, judeo-egyptian-baha’i, gnosticism, neoplatonism, hermeticim, Alchemy (Al-Kemet..) etc etc i’m in the process of writing a few articles for my website and also trying to make... what i’ll call an Astrology Canon, of really important texts that is pivotal to astrology (in all branches, not just the western branch) but i’m definitely not the Harold Bloom of astrology... but, if you want you can PM me and i’ll give you a cool list of books. astrology forces us to ‘gnothi sauton’ ... ‘know yourself’.

#astrology #askneptune #how i got into astrology #8th house moon #neptunegoneby

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ignatioglory · 4 years

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Cerpen #09: Tarian Apollo

Satu kali aku melihat Apollo sedang menari. Di suatu petang biasa, saat aku duduk di sebelah gadis itu, sang dewa muncul. Entah dari dimensi mana, beliau sajikan rima-rima cinta. Mulanya kuikuti nadanya. Senyum sang dewa terasa menaungi. Namun kemudian aku kecewa. Senyumnya berubah meledek. Kutolak irama itu sembari kabur berlari.

“Kenapa bisa sekonyol ini? Bagaimana mungkin sesakit ini?” keluhku.

Kedua kali aku melihat Apollo masih menari. Di suatu siang biasa, saat aku duduk di bangku akademi itu, sang dewa menyembul. Entah dari dunia mana, beliau tumbuhkan gelora di dada. Awalnya kuikuti semangatnya. Senyum sang dewa terasa meneduhi. Namun kemudian aku merana. Senyumnya berubah mengejek. Kutolak ambisi itu sembari pergi sendiri.

“Kenapa bisa sebodoh ini? Bagaimana mungkin sesusah ini?” kesahku.

Pandora yang cantik telah membuka kotaknya. Seluruh perasaan buruk berebutan keluar, meninggalkan sang harapan di sudut terdalam kotak. Dengan sisa harapan itu, aku melaju menuju orakel Delphi. Konon sang dewa membisikkan rahasianya pada peramal di sana.

Aku baru sampai alun-alun kota Athena ketika seorang tua menghadangku. Dia menawariku air minum sambil bertanya, “Siapa orang paling bijaksana di dunia?”

“Tak seorang pun tahu,” jawabku.

“Orakel berkata bahwa akulah orangnya.”

“Bagaimana bisa?” tanyaku balik.

“Aku pun tidak tahu,” sahutnya. “Aku hanya tahu kalau aku tidak tahu apa-apa.”

Aku meminum air yang dia tawarkan sambil berpikir. Tentu saja orang tua ini tahu sesuatu, batinku. Setiap orang pasti punya setidaknya secuil pengetahuan yang bisa dibagikan. Sama seperti peramal Delphi yang bisa tahu rahasia dewa, aku pun tahu kalau aku akan bersama gadis itu. Aku juga tahu kalau aku tak akan lanjut akademi dan akan jadi penulis.

Tetapi kenapa orang yang dibilang paling bijaksana oleh peramal Delphi justru tidak tahu apa-apa? Apa mungkin aku yang merasa tahu sesuatu inilah yang sebenarnya tidak bijaksana? Ya... mungkinkah begitu? Mungkinkah orang tua ini bijaksana karena merasa tidak tahu apa-apa? Ya... pasti begitu, pikirku.

“Tuan,” panggilku. “Saya rasa Andalah yang paling bijaksana karena Anda merasa tidak tahu apa-apa. Saya sendiri tidak bijak, saya terlalu sombong hingga merasa tahu sesuatu.”

“Oh, Nak. Kurasa kau benar! Itulah kebijaksanaan sejati! Kerendahan hati dalam ketidaktahuan!” serunya senang. “Oh, ya, panggil aku Socrates saja. Dan siapa namamu?”

“Nama saya Outis – Tak Seorang Pun,” jawabku.

Aku melanjutkan perjalanan. Sesampainya di daerah Thebes, aku bertemu dengan seorang pria buta yang dituntun oleh seorang wanita muda, mungkin anaknya. Didorong oleh rasa kasihan, aku membagikan roti yang kupunya pada mereka.

“Terima kasih. Semoga harimu bahagia,” ujar si pria buta sambil tersenyum lebar.

“Sama-sama, Tuan,” jawabku. “Saya sudah bahagia bisa menolong Tuan serta putrinya yang cantik.”

Wanita muda itu tampak terkejut mendengar omonganku, lantas menjadi malu sendiri. Aku tak mengerti. Apakah pujianku berlebihan?

“Oh, kaupanggil dia putriku? Ya, dia memang putriku. Tetapi dia juga adikku,” sahut si pria buta.

“Maksud Tuan?”

“Dulu orakel Delphi telah menyingkapkan rahasia hidupku dua kali. Kalimat yang sama, yang tak pernah aku lupa. Dia bilang, aku akan membunuh ayahku dan menikahi ibuku. Aku berusaha menghindari ramalan itu, tentu saja. Tetapi semuanya tetap berujung pada hal yang sama. Aku telah membunuh ayahku dan menikahi ibuku, meski tanpa sepengetahuanku. Wanita muda ini adalah anak dari pernikahanku dengan ibuku sendiri. Maka dialah putriku, tetapi juga adikku,” jelas si pria buta.

“Ayahku... atau kakakku... dulu adalah raja Thebes,” tambah si wanita muda. “Namun setelah tahu fakta itu, beliau menikam matanya sendiri hingga buta. Ibuku gantung diri karena malu. Lalu kami diusir oleh warga kota Thebes.”

“Oh... saya tidak bermaksud menyinggung. Saya turut sedih mendengarnya,” sahutku sambil tertegun.

“Kenapa kau sedih?” tanya si pria buta. “Setelah semua cobaan berat, usiaku yang lanjut dan kemuliaan jiwaku membuatku menyimpulkan, kalau semua baik-baik saja.”

Aku tersentak. Semua baik-baik saja? Aku memandang heran raut pria buta dan wanita muda itu. Mereka tersenyum lebar, tulus. Kenapa begitu? Bagaimana bisa semua baik-baik saja dengan hidup seperti itu?

“Ada apa, Tuan muda?” tanya wanita muda yang balas menatapku. “Beliau sering bicara begitu pada orang-orang, kalau semua baik-baik saja. Tetapi tak seorang pun percaya. Tak seorang pun mengerti.”

“Oh, tidak, tidak apa-apa,” jawabku. “Saya harus melanjutkan perjalanan. Tetapi kita belum berkenalan. Siapa nama Tuan dan Nona?”

“Namaku Oedipus,” sahut si pria buta.

“Dan aku Antigone,” imbuh si wanita muda.

“Nama saya Outis – Tak Seorang Pun.”

Obrolan dengan orang-orang ini telah membuka mataku. Dengan pikiran yang makin bersinar, aku berjalan menuju orakel Delphi. Begitu sampai di depan gerbang kuil, aku berhenti. Aku menengadah membaca tulisan yang tertatah di sana.

“Gnothi sauton” – “kenalilah dirimu sendiri”.

Aku masuk ke dalam kuil. Dan untuk ketiga kali aku melihat Apollo terus menari. Di hari yang luar biasa, saat aku menatap altar megah kuil itu, sang dewa bersiul. Entah dari jagad mana, beliau panggilkan sembilan dewi Muse. Senyum mereka terasa mengilhami. Mereka bernyanyi dan aku ikut. Mereka menari dan aku turut. Di dunia bawah tiga dewi takdir Moirai bahkan ikut bernyanyi dan menari sambil mengatur benang kehidupan.

Aku bahagia. Bukan karena aku lebih tahu dari Socrates, bukan pula karena hidupku lebih baik dari Oedipus. Aku sadar kalau aku tak tahu apa-apa seperti Socrates. Namun aku tidak gelisah. Hidupku pun bisa setragis Oedipus. Namun aku tidak khawatir. Aku ikut bernyanyi. Aku turut menari. Akan kupeluk semua yang dihadapkan hidup padaku. Karena akulah bagian dari lagu itu. Akulah bagian dari harmoni tarian Apollo.

#cerpen #apollo #tarian #mitologi yunani #socrates #oedipus

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