San Francisco, United States
I walk through 
a park with my American editor, John Loudon,
and his wife, Sharon. We can see the city of San Francisco in the distance, illuminated by the setting sun. Sharon wrote a book about a Benedictine monastery, and tells us that the afternoon prayers, called vespers,
are songs of faith in the certainty that the night will pass.
- The vespers indicate the necessity we have to be
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near others at nightfall – she says. – But our society has forgotten the importance of this nearness, and pretends
to greatly prize each person’s ability to deal with his own difficulties. We no longer pray together; we hide our
solitude as if we were afraid to admit it exists.
Sharon pauses, before adding:
- I was like that once. Until one day I lost my fear of depending on my neighbor, because I discovered
that he too needed me.
Limoges, France
A
apprentice in occultism I know, hoping to impress his master, read some handbooks about magic and decided to buy
the material indicated in its pages.
With great difficulty, he managed to find a certain type of incense, a
few talismans, a
wooden structure with sacred letters written in a certain order. Upon seeing this, the master said:
- Do you think that by rolling some computer wires around your neck, you will acquire all the machine’s knowledge? Do you believe
that, by purchasing sophisticated hats and clothes, you will also acquire the good taste and sophistication of
those who made them? Learn to use objects as allies, not as guides.
Kawaguchiko, Japan
I met the painter Miie
Tamaki during a seminar about Feminine Energy.
I asked about her religion.
- I
no longer have a religion – she replied.
Noting my surprise, she explained:
- I was educated as a Buddhist. The monks taught me that the spiritual path is a constant renunciation:
we must overcome our envy, our hatred, all anxieties of faith, our
desires.
“I managed to free myself of all of that, until one day my heart became empty: the sins had left,
and taken my human nature along with them.
“To begin
with I was pleased, but I noticed that I no longer shared the
joys and passions of those around me. That was when I abandoned religion: today I have my conflicts, my moments
of anger and despair, but I know that I am once again close to mankind – and consequently close to God”.
Lourdes, France
When I was on the road to Rome, one of the four sacred ways of my magic tradition, I realized – after nearly twenty days of being
practically alone – that I was far worse than when I set out. With the solitude, I began to have niggardly, bitter,
ignoble feelings.
I sought out my guide, and told her. I said that, at the outset of the pilgrimage, I thought I would
come closer to God: however, after three weeks, I was feeling much worse.
- You are
better, do not worry – she said. – In fact, when we light up our inner light, the first things we see are the cobwebs
and dust, our weak points. They were there all the time, only you saw nothing in the darkness. Now it will be easier
to cleanse your soul.