Imagine there was a rite of passage available for all mankind that required no community, no oaths, no secret orders, no subordination to deities, no money, no belief in history, no equipment, and no suffering of any other living thing.
When engaged, a person's whole reality began conspiring to bring them to their whole personhood, in balance and fortitude, creating situations to choose the release of imbalances, resulting in their self-possession and value to the community.
Prosperity would abound through them, and in turn fractally graduate through the whole world.
Who among us can even imagine the cosmos had written directly into it something like that, and that it rejoiced through each and every person.
Imagine it was described and adhered to in every sacred writ, every classic piece of art.
Something we in our current age identify as true and beautiful. A sacred structure that we feel the presence of heaven within but can only trace its origins to other places we believe used it earlier in time.
Imagine that the dark principalities of the world forbade under death sentence its direct disclosure until it was forgotten. Only a faded simulacrum of it which became so obscured to its c origins the people abandoned it of their own will.
But imagine it once had a name and it was known to resonate directly from the heavens. That it was the science that underwrote every aspect of civilization, bringing prosperity and harmony, generation upon generation.
...
Now imagine there was a great winter that came over the world, a spiritual winter mirrored in environmental upheaval. Mankind descended into an increasingly base existence, which created a positive feedback loop with chaos in the environment.
The symphony of heaven that man could previously use like a tuning fork to his mind and body became lost to a dark, punishing fiery wind.
In that environment, spirits of the macabre emerged. Men engaged them for survival, life became tradeable currency to these spirits and an economy of death emerged.
The abomination of desolation.
Infernal spirits making contracts with people in power to be fed with their subjects, ruling families across nations fabricating wars to sacrifice their peasantry's blood to sustain and expand their power.
The peasantry were given stories of holy men to emulate, but never given the actual sheet music of heaven that enabled their emancipation from tyranny.
All because their forebears cursed them to profane subjugation and the historical record they internalized made them believe life was always like this, with no real way out.
But what if the sheet music to our whole being was still there, the volume of heaven's music was increasing again, but we are so maligned to it that its power feels like illness, like hell?
What if the families that rule us, with the aid of their gods, have created an immensely sophisticated industrial death machine to maintain the flow of blood that sustains their power?
What if the entire geopolitical arena and the stressors on the public are being set up to make willing sacrifices, stupidly believing we were fighting for freedom on the march to the altar of their gods?
And what if the Almighty has permitted it for as long as it is required until we cry out in humility for what is the true, unadulterated way back to our divine inheritance and true glorious form?
What if the answer was waiting for us if we only truly, from the heart, asked the right questions?
As long as we fixate on the suffering of others for the sake of our own increase, we continue to feed their gods.
This is the true Spider Queen of all Psyops.
Is only when beginning to choose life again, that the right questions to find the path home begin to emerge.
𝕬𝖗𝖐𝖍𝖆𝖒 𝕱𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖘
