I see a beautiful brown mama goat down below, lying next to her white baby goat. Having fallen off the cliff, they are both devastated on a wide, flat rock; dead.
Tears come. Oh the agony of this culture killing love! Animals constantly losing their babies, Syrians, Palestinians. Cut through am I by this cold cult of love denied.
Why have you stiffened up, love?
My Israeli lover wants to know so I describe this scene to he who lies beside me. “That’s the שָׂעִיר לַעֲזָאזֵל se’ir la’azazel,” he exclaimes, “a hebrew ritual of throwing goats off cliffs to atone for your sins. We call it the scapegoat.”
In an impressive Stanislav Groff When the Impossible Happens moment, my mind once again served me a visual platter of exactly my feelings arising subconsciously. Not a black sheep, but a scapegoat. Interchangeable they are, for to stand out from the crowd as a self-aware individual in this cult of killing love, one is often made the scapegoat.
Indeed it’s a practise of the modern whirled (since before the dark ages) to care less about hurling awakening beings off emotional cliffs so we can be flattened against the psychic blocks we just erected protectively in our souls.
Here comes the yoga.
Anyone who practises yoga is engaged in dissolving any psychic big flat rock blocks through embracing the motherly love of divine earthly embodiment. This is yoga of the divine fool who walks into the jaws of the collective cognitively dissonant hysteria and allows themselves to be dissolved slowly. Exquisite awareness of those relentlessly tearing shreds is used as your practise to stay whole.
After 25 years of conscious practise, I can’t say I am successfully whole. It’s really been forty years of emotional cliffs. I remember before pre-school, me = scapegoat. What I can say is – through this process I have come to know divine will.
The Divine Fool and Busy Will.
What those who sacrifice scapegoats do not know is they are doing the will of killing love. It is a big mistake to call this divine will, though they may like to. Godsent? Which god I ask you, the one who told you to throw mamas and babies off cliffs?
Yes, surrounded by herds who blindly follow this practise the yogini has no choice but to foolishly walk her talk, lest she join the followers of false gods. That false god is culturally created ego, that culture is currently continual death to the love and the living.
If the yogini wishes to truly love and live she turns her back on comfortable mor[t]ality and walks into the fire of freedom again and again – an individuating, self-realising fool, she is doing divine will. She cares not for the same hooks as the busy matrix of ego wills suctioned to the work consume die whirled as sacrifices to the false gods (money, status, fame, addiction). To survive, the ego will counter cognitive dissonance by throwing yoginis off cliffs. In a somatic sense, my sacrifices wake up the whirled.
Divine will be heard, even as they refuse to look at me, somewhere in their subconscious seeds are sown. So allow yourself to be thrown because, eventually, you and I will learn how to fly