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A Gentle Introduction
Sep. 24th, 2025 03:09 pmA Gentle Introduction- My first attempt at online journaling
Gods above. The torrential chaos of the changing of an age seems too much to bear sometimes. Our stories, or our narratives for the respectable, reasonable folk, are crumbling around us- no one can confidently (or sanely) claim otherwise. The spiritual momentum of Christianity, or the broader Faustian or Piscean Weltanschauung, has been almost entirely spent. That's not to say that the Piscean current is completely dead and wholly ineffective on Earth, some vestiges remain and serve as beacons of hope to vast amounts of the desperate and terrified refugees fleeing the materialistic nihilism that spawned in the West's spiritual void.
I am one such refugee. Though I am no longer a Christian after coming to terms with the spiritual emptiness echoing through much of the churches in the US, I am ever seeking to find coherence, find a way to make sense of the human condition and how we relate to our world and the universe beyond. But as we know, the wanderer's journey is full of perils, pitfalls, false epiphanies, wild goose chases, out of this world hoaxes, and devious false hopes; all this gives our dreams teeth to crush our hearts and spirits as we search for a better story/ narrative to live a spiritually fulfilling life.
I have erred, as most seekers have, and yet I have found kernels of stupefying beauty and insight in the darkest and strangest of places. However, the fault here is not in seeking wisdom and insight from these dark places, it is staying there longer than necessary, drinking in the darkness that cradled the sparks of insight you found. It's hard to know when to stop- once a seeker finds that bit of gold in whatever pit they're in, we admittedly tend to go crazy like a gambler. "If I just stay here, I just know I'll get lucky again..." And then, more often than not, our intense desire to find wisdom warps our judgement and discernment, and we end up convincing ourselves that the darkness around the sparks should be subsumed into our very being by reason of their proximity of the sparks.
Let me say this once, clearly (if only 18 year old me could hear me now!): THE VEIL IS NOT THE LIGHT. We cannot interact with the veil of darkness in the same way as we do sparks of spiritual wisdom and insight. That is not to say the the darkness and the veil have nothing of value; on the contrary, if you are cautious and maintain an emotional and instinctual distance from the forces in the dark, you can gain tremendous insight into the relationship between the spark you have discovered and the darkness cradling it. That's nothing to shake a stick at! But understanding this distinction is usually a very harsh lesson for any seeker. It was for me, so much so that a decade later I am still grappling with this, still trying to see past the distortion from the haze of desire that clouds my every thought and motive.
See, in lieu of of coherent and compelling narrative that a spiritual and/or philosophical leader imparts to us, we write our own chaotic, misguided, and messy stories. That base, selfish, and ego driven desire is the main author of that story whether we want it to be or not. What direction does your heroic journey go in? What do you hope to accomplish, how do you want to define your relationship with the world, human society et al? The honest answers to these questions tells you what you desire on a shallow level, and most importantly what YOU think you "deserve" and are owed from others. Fame? Accolades? Wealth? Respect and renown? Justice? Vengeance? Safety and stability? Love? Community? Whatever it is, if the base desire for XYZ isn't kept in check, or worse, you are unaware of it, the grand journey for wisdom and spiritual inspiration gets completely subverted.
Often times, this base desire makes it difficult for us to see others- humans and nonhumans alike- as objects or means to an end on our journey. This also places a reliance on these objects to do what they're "supposed to-" meet our wants and needs. "You are not Joe Schmoe from Buffalo, you are my financial, emotional, and sexual stability." You are not Castor Venator from Baltimore, you are a source of beauty soley for my own artistic and cerebral gratification." Of course, if we regard others in a holistic and compassionate sense, we quickly realize that while everyone has the capacity to make someone's life better, that we need to claim responsibility for our own joy, power, discipline, etc. It is incredibly unfair and just flat out stupid to expect someone to assume responsibility for their own all around well being and yours. And even worse yet (especially for my fellow achievement centered people), once you do this, you have fundamentally failed at being a seeker.
It's hilarious in an incredibly bleak way to see the lengths we'll go to avoid searching our own depths, our own fonts of power, or listening to our intuitions and insights. Presumably, if you declare yourself a seeker of the spiritual sort, the goal usually looks something like, "I will find a way to become a more complete person who can live in harmony with the human world and greater cosmos and gain a more comprehensive understanding of the human condition and the cosmos." Your mileage may vary, certainly, but by and large, most seekers want to understand their place in the grand scheme of things, because our relations have meaning, and in understanding those relationships, whether its with other humans, animals, plants, minerals, spirits, archetypal forces, or full blown deities, we gain understanding by seeing ourselves reflected back in the other, and the other reflected in ourselves. What sane and competent seeker willfully covers up half the picture, desiring to see only themselves reflected infinitely across the cosmos? How could you not be driven insane when all you see are the endless adumbrations of the self that you refuse to know and look at?
Yet, even with our inner power accounted for, it is difficult to convince yourself, a rookie seeker, that you could meaningfully interact with the mind blowing things you have stood witness to from a place of some power and understanding. What is a human compared to the terrifying pressure and inescaple influence of an archetype? To the vast yet focused power of the Gods? To the unyielding, uncompromising light that shines from an angel? It's a fact we see clear as day if we don't have delusions of grandeur- there is no compelling or forcing these beings into a compromise they find unfavorable, there is no way to have them act in a way contrary to their will, which eclipses the human will totally. Experiences with these are indescribable and ineffable. If it's your first time experiencing an entity from this class of beings, it changes you forever, stamping your soul with the first significant spiritual interaction that will color your entire journey in this incarnation. I remember mine very well (sort of!)
I remember when I saw the world in color for the first time. I saw a wild, Dionysian chiaroscuro of the dance between life and death, eroticism and violence, the urge to destroy for the sake of building something undeniably, divinely beautiful, mad and howling ecstasy with unwavering devotion to one cause. The ideal human was the enlightened, cultured thug. National Socialism, in Heinrich Himmler's esoteric/ vanguard flavor, was my first spiritual experience that truly convinced my whole self that there actually was an escape from the existential horror of materialist nihilism and the cold, grey emptiness of my evangelical Christian upbringing that shrieked as it blew through the bones of the Calvinist Leviathan's skeleton. The vivid colors and undeniable reality of the power of the irrational finally were guided into me, and for the first time I truly wanted to be alive.
Until that point, any inquiries in that direction were regarded as insane by materialists, and blasphemous by the evangelicals, so my world felt like it was painted in endless monochrome. I remember literally falling to my knees, overcome with the beauty of death and violence that I could finally see in a kaliedoscope of colors, that I could feel the passion of these tear through my body and soul. It was real, it was rapturous. I knew it, I said, I knew there was something beyond probably the worst ideological/ spiritual binary in recorded human history. There was insight in ecstatic fits of madness, violence was no longer a concept to hate or dread or pontificate against, look! Look at the strength and conviction emanating for it, look at Ares giving every bit of strength in body, mind, and soul for his Aphrodite! Life was in preparation for singing the most heart wrenching, devastating, and beautiful swan song that would nourish the souls of the living as your blood would nourish the earth below. It sounds insane (and it is insane lol), but almost weekly I would be so overcome by the ecstasy of this colorful, swirling ferocity that I would weep and mutter, "It's so beautiful..." over and over again. One of the Ergriffener, indeed.
Always striving for... something perfect, whatever that means. Always fighting against... something ugly and debased, I guess. The ideology and spirituality of National Socialism (NS) is weak on its own, what made it a force that brought me and many other people to our knees was the fact that, by design, it is a potent funnel for the Odinic/ Wotanic archetype, described wonderfully by Carl Jung in his 1936 essay "Wotan." Experiencing that archetype was the best and worst thing that ever happened to me. Even though I have left the movement 8 years ago now and go out of my way to warn people about it, I can never say that I wish I'd never done it. Being driven mad by Odin/ Wotan, realizing that as a woman there was quite literally no space for me in NS to partake in the bounty shown to me, and subsequently leaving the scene to find a place where I could participate in and embody beauty in all its forms turned me into one of the Wandervogel.
I have at least partially extricated myself from... some of the madness of NS, but that Odinic current will never leave me as long as I live. I live as though I have only two options- face the dizzying symphony of crushing crescendos and sublime dissonance, or wither away and die insane. Try as I might, I literally cannot conceive of another way to live. It's intense, but it's not all bad; if I am courageous, if I am careful in equal measure, then I have a real shot at becoming a somewhat competent magician in the footsteps of the All Father.
All are naught but paint on the canvas I use to arrange every color just so; I add and remove these objects and their colors to finally, finally witness beauty in its totality.
The presence or absence of others cannot form the basis of what we consider our spiritual treasure. While I was actively NS, the highest, most sublime heights of beauty and perfection (whatever the hell that means... usually whatever the speaker wants it to at any given moment, right?) were inaccessible to me because the ideology dictated that there were undesirables who, by their crime of existing, tainted everything around them; another hurdle to realizing this grand vision of a perfect, colorful world. It was the undesirables' fault, dammit! I have no ugliness in my heart because I am pure, and even if I did- Which I probably don't!- nothing but the blood of undesirables would wash it away anyway, so why even..?
Huh?
Hmm... That doesn't make a lot of sense. And why can't I do anything about my bleeding, black heart that vacillates wildly between ecstasy and despair? Why can't I find a beauty that shines despite whatever impurity and ugliness surrounds it? Because... I know it exists, I saw it in the beginning, dancing and shimmering in the gloom of the flickering streetlights along a row of rotting houses, in barns falling apart in endless corn fields, in the forests that quietly hid their secret treasures to all but the most persistent, in the fire that burned in my beloved comrades' hearts.
Now where did I put that damn spark?
Oh.
It left as soon as it collided with me, obliterating me completely. So I left, and that was that. What else is there to do but chase that spark? I know I'll find somewhere again, and this time I won't let it get away from me!
It's right there, looking at me silently with no expectations. But all I know is how to find and use, what on earth do I do with myself? There are so many things larger and far more grand than a human... But I'm sick of being a commodifying parasite. I am so sick with envy that I can barely look at myself anymore. Can I do it? Can I ever find something beautiful and God-like within me? The gods I now worship are beyond wise and powerful, how could I ever compare? In equal parts I want to be them and be completely consumed and annihilated by them, I can't stand the thought of anything less.
Yes I can. Begone ghoulish, insatiable hunger of the Wandervogel! You have taken me this far for which I thank you, but this is too much.
I can strive without you at the helm, I've done it before. Don't worry, I'll never stop exploring and daring, but if I cannot strive moderately towards attainable ends, then I will die a failure. Here and now is a fine place to be- after all, there is no rainbow bridge for us to cross into the end of history, into peace everlasting. And thank the Gods, because I know you wouldn't be able to stand it.
Gods above. The torrential chaos of the changing of an age seems too much to bear sometimes. Our stories, or our narratives for the respectable, reasonable folk, are crumbling around us- no one can confidently (or sanely) claim otherwise. The spiritual momentum of Christianity, or the broader Faustian or Piscean Weltanschauung, has been almost entirely spent. That's not to say that the Piscean current is completely dead and wholly ineffective on Earth, some vestiges remain and serve as beacons of hope to vast amounts of the desperate and terrified refugees fleeing the materialistic nihilism that spawned in the West's spiritual void.
I am one such refugee. Though I am no longer a Christian after coming to terms with the spiritual emptiness echoing through much of the churches in the US, I am ever seeking to find coherence, find a way to make sense of the human condition and how we relate to our world and the universe beyond. But as we know, the wanderer's journey is full of perils, pitfalls, false epiphanies, wild goose chases, out of this world hoaxes, and devious false hopes; all this gives our dreams teeth to crush our hearts and spirits as we search for a better story/ narrative to live a spiritually fulfilling life.
I have erred, as most seekers have, and yet I have found kernels of stupefying beauty and insight in the darkest and strangest of places. However, the fault here is not in seeking wisdom and insight from these dark places, it is staying there longer than necessary, drinking in the darkness that cradled the sparks of insight you found. It's hard to know when to stop- once a seeker finds that bit of gold in whatever pit they're in, we admittedly tend to go crazy like a gambler. "If I just stay here, I just know I'll get lucky again..." And then, more often than not, our intense desire to find wisdom warps our judgement and discernment, and we end up convincing ourselves that the darkness around the sparks should be subsumed into our very being by reason of their proximity of the sparks.
Let me say this once, clearly (if only 18 year old me could hear me now!): THE VEIL IS NOT THE LIGHT. We cannot interact with the veil of darkness in the same way as we do sparks of spiritual wisdom and insight. That is not to say the the darkness and the veil have nothing of value; on the contrary, if you are cautious and maintain an emotional and instinctual distance from the forces in the dark, you can gain tremendous insight into the relationship between the spark you have discovered and the darkness cradling it. That's nothing to shake a stick at! But understanding this distinction is usually a very harsh lesson for any seeker. It was for me, so much so that a decade later I am still grappling with this, still trying to see past the distortion from the haze of desire that clouds my every thought and motive.
See, in lieu of of coherent and compelling narrative that a spiritual and/or philosophical leader imparts to us, we write our own chaotic, misguided, and messy stories. That base, selfish, and ego driven desire is the main author of that story whether we want it to be or not. What direction does your heroic journey go in? What do you hope to accomplish, how do you want to define your relationship with the world, human society et al? The honest answers to these questions tells you what you desire on a shallow level, and most importantly what YOU think you "deserve" and are owed from others. Fame? Accolades? Wealth? Respect and renown? Justice? Vengeance? Safety and stability? Love? Community? Whatever it is, if the base desire for XYZ isn't kept in check, or worse, you are unaware of it, the grand journey for wisdom and spiritual inspiration gets completely subverted.
Often times, this base desire makes it difficult for us to see others- humans and nonhumans alike- as objects or means to an end on our journey. This also places a reliance on these objects to do what they're "supposed to-" meet our wants and needs. "You are not Joe Schmoe from Buffalo, you are my financial, emotional, and sexual stability." You are not Castor Venator from Baltimore, you are a source of beauty soley for my own artistic and cerebral gratification." Of course, if we regard others in a holistic and compassionate sense, we quickly realize that while everyone has the capacity to make someone's life better, that we need to claim responsibility for our own joy, power, discipline, etc. It is incredibly unfair and just flat out stupid to expect someone to assume responsibility for their own all around well being and yours. And even worse yet (especially for my fellow achievement centered people), once you do this, you have fundamentally failed at being a seeker.
It's hilarious in an incredibly bleak way to see the lengths we'll go to avoid searching our own depths, our own fonts of power, or listening to our intuitions and insights. Presumably, if you declare yourself a seeker of the spiritual sort, the goal usually looks something like, "I will find a way to become a more complete person who can live in harmony with the human world and greater cosmos and gain a more comprehensive understanding of the human condition and the cosmos." Your mileage may vary, certainly, but by and large, most seekers want to understand their place in the grand scheme of things, because our relations have meaning, and in understanding those relationships, whether its with other humans, animals, plants, minerals, spirits, archetypal forces, or full blown deities, we gain understanding by seeing ourselves reflected back in the other, and the other reflected in ourselves. What sane and competent seeker willfully covers up half the picture, desiring to see only themselves reflected infinitely across the cosmos? How could you not be driven insane when all you see are the endless adumbrations of the self that you refuse to know and look at?
Yet, even with our inner power accounted for, it is difficult to convince yourself, a rookie seeker, that you could meaningfully interact with the mind blowing things you have stood witness to from a place of some power and understanding. What is a human compared to the terrifying pressure and inescaple influence of an archetype? To the vast yet focused power of the Gods? To the unyielding, uncompromising light that shines from an angel? It's a fact we see clear as day if we don't have delusions of grandeur- there is no compelling or forcing these beings into a compromise they find unfavorable, there is no way to have them act in a way contrary to their will, which eclipses the human will totally. Experiences with these are indescribable and ineffable. If it's your first time experiencing an entity from this class of beings, it changes you forever, stamping your soul with the first significant spiritual interaction that will color your entire journey in this incarnation. I remember mine very well (sort of!)
I remember when I saw the world in color for the first time. I saw a wild, Dionysian chiaroscuro of the dance between life and death, eroticism and violence, the urge to destroy for the sake of building something undeniably, divinely beautiful, mad and howling ecstasy with unwavering devotion to one cause. The ideal human was the enlightened, cultured thug. National Socialism, in Heinrich Himmler's esoteric/ vanguard flavor, was my first spiritual experience that truly convinced my whole self that there actually was an escape from the existential horror of materialist nihilism and the cold, grey emptiness of my evangelical Christian upbringing that shrieked as it blew through the bones of the Calvinist Leviathan's skeleton. The vivid colors and undeniable reality of the power of the irrational finally were guided into me, and for the first time I truly wanted to be alive.
Until that point, any inquiries in that direction were regarded as insane by materialists, and blasphemous by the evangelicals, so my world felt like it was painted in endless monochrome. I remember literally falling to my knees, overcome with the beauty of death and violence that I could finally see in a kaliedoscope of colors, that I could feel the passion of these tear through my body and soul. It was real, it was rapturous. I knew it, I said, I knew there was something beyond probably the worst ideological/ spiritual binary in recorded human history. There was insight in ecstatic fits of madness, violence was no longer a concept to hate or dread or pontificate against, look! Look at the strength and conviction emanating for it, look at Ares giving every bit of strength in body, mind, and soul for his Aphrodite! Life was in preparation for singing the most heart wrenching, devastating, and beautiful swan song that would nourish the souls of the living as your blood would nourish the earth below. It sounds insane (and it is insane lol), but almost weekly I would be so overcome by the ecstasy of this colorful, swirling ferocity that I would weep and mutter, "It's so beautiful..." over and over again. One of the Ergriffener, indeed.
Always striving for... something perfect, whatever that means. Always fighting against... something ugly and debased, I guess. The ideology and spirituality of National Socialism (NS) is weak on its own, what made it a force that brought me and many other people to our knees was the fact that, by design, it is a potent funnel for the Odinic/ Wotanic archetype, described wonderfully by Carl Jung in his 1936 essay "Wotan." Experiencing that archetype was the best and worst thing that ever happened to me. Even though I have left the movement 8 years ago now and go out of my way to warn people about it, I can never say that I wish I'd never done it. Being driven mad by Odin/ Wotan, realizing that as a woman there was quite literally no space for me in NS to partake in the bounty shown to me, and subsequently leaving the scene to find a place where I could participate in and embody beauty in all its forms turned me into one of the Wandervogel.
I have at least partially extricated myself from... some of the madness of NS, but that Odinic current will never leave me as long as I live. I live as though I have only two options- face the dizzying symphony of crushing crescendos and sublime dissonance, or wither away and die insane. Try as I might, I literally cannot conceive of another way to live. It's intense, but it's not all bad; if I am courageous, if I am careful in equal measure, then I have a real shot at becoming a somewhat competent magician in the footsteps of the All Father.
All are naught but paint on the canvas I use to arrange every color just so; I add and remove these objects and their colors to finally, finally witness beauty in its totality.
The presence or absence of others cannot form the basis of what we consider our spiritual treasure. While I was actively NS, the highest, most sublime heights of beauty and perfection (whatever the hell that means... usually whatever the speaker wants it to at any given moment, right?) were inaccessible to me because the ideology dictated that there were undesirables who, by their crime of existing, tainted everything around them; another hurdle to realizing this grand vision of a perfect, colorful world. It was the undesirables' fault, dammit! I have no ugliness in my heart because I am pure, and even if I did- Which I probably don't!- nothing but the blood of undesirables would wash it away anyway, so why even..?
Huh?
Hmm... That doesn't make a lot of sense. And why can't I do anything about my bleeding, black heart that vacillates wildly between ecstasy and despair? Why can't I find a beauty that shines despite whatever impurity and ugliness surrounds it? Because... I know it exists, I saw it in the beginning, dancing and shimmering in the gloom of the flickering streetlights along a row of rotting houses, in barns falling apart in endless corn fields, in the forests that quietly hid their secret treasures to all but the most persistent, in the fire that burned in my beloved comrades' hearts.
Now where did I put that damn spark?
Oh.
It left as soon as it collided with me, obliterating me completely. So I left, and that was that. What else is there to do but chase that spark? I know I'll find somewhere again, and this time I won't let it get away from me!
It's right there, looking at me silently with no expectations. But all I know is how to find and use, what on earth do I do with myself? There are so many things larger and far more grand than a human... But I'm sick of being a commodifying parasite. I am so sick with envy that I can barely look at myself anymore. Can I do it? Can I ever find something beautiful and God-like within me? The gods I now worship are beyond wise and powerful, how could I ever compare? In equal parts I want to be them and be completely consumed and annihilated by them, I can't stand the thought of anything less.
Yes I can. Begone ghoulish, insatiable hunger of the Wandervogel! You have taken me this far for which I thank you, but this is too much.
I can strive without you at the helm, I've done it before. Don't worry, I'll never stop exploring and daring, but if I cannot strive moderately towards attainable ends, then I will die a failure. Here and now is a fine place to be- after all, there is no rainbow bridge for us to cross into the end of history, into peace everlasting. And thank the Gods, because I know you wouldn't be able to stand it.
