The Nature of the Path

https://etherealcatalystblog.wordpress.com/2021/04/03/death/

The violet road can be just as unnerving as it is empowering and beautiful.

The subtle catalyst that ignites the Flame bows to no hesitation, listens to no demands and consumes the essence of the initiate in unexpected ways.

The gift of the Hawk comes in breathtaking moments of unexpected divinity, accompanied by a truly soaring emotion, flaming pure love. I cannot explain it, I do not have the capacity to rationalize it, but I Love Her. I will fight for Her. I would die for Her. I would die for Them. Strange memories surface, fragmented and cryptic.

Some magick truly cannot be explained, and it is that spark which is the most exquisite. Those moments unfurl like a violet mist into the Ether, leaving a lasting imprint as if to serve as subtle anchors on the fabric of individual stories and life force. It is only the fire, that survives…

Soaring to great heights can provide a contrast adequate enough to cause inner turmoil, confusion and even depression when confronted with the inescapable oppression of this plane.

The Violet Throne contains a perplexing force that, depending on the inner world of the one exploring it, can claim personal essence in a delicate balance of bewildering complexity.

The Violet Throne is the Altar, and you are the Sacrifice.

It becomes the reality as life becomes a strange dream.

Bewilderment builds with mounting pressure as it becomes apparent that no human qualifiers, descriptors, creations or words are adequate enough to pinpoint reality, nature or existence.

The mirror has no answers as its lies reach the surface. It sits with an unimpressive gleam, suddenly far more dull and lifeless than what was remembered. It crumbles to ash, the particles drifting away on the current of time.

This skin belongs, for now, the bones cohesive and bound together… for now. Like a tree with bark and branches struck bare by a flash of initiatory lighting, limbs reach toward the elegantly indifferent night sky to embrace a small piece of eternity.

Each of those powerful moments, from the magickal potency of a particularly memorable sunset to the incredible spotting of a treasured hawk soaring overhead in a moment strangely timed to the influx of potently flaming emotion, fade to impermanence, leaving behind a strange longing.

After being given a taste of the flame, it cleverly burns only choice aspects of Being. It delivers a virulent toxin as destructive as it is healing.

Soul laid bare on the subtle altar, the venom is merciless and unforgiving. It destroys and consumes, leaving raw spaces that only She can fill in a process of sacred Surrender.

It retreats with a final embrace of unparalleled, gentle care, gleaming in the threefold Mirror of Eternity that speaks of home from Above.

Pretty good one again. Also I noticed that your post count upon this article is 1373, that's a very Asetian number.

Another truly beautiful article.

Synchronicity in the air, your pieces of art touch upon the personal emotional aspect of Asetianism

Soul laid bare on the subtle altar, the venom is merciless and unforgiving. It destroys and consumes, leaving raw spaces that only She can fill in a process of sacred Surrender.

This is particularly significant and potent. As always, excellent writing.

Thanks everyone!