The main work has been updated, as well as the main document which is now 281 pages, to include the following:
Yet another apropos depiction of Pisces III
The Engine of Survival
The heart’s fondest wish dwells here, as does the price we are willing to pay for it — the life’s blood we offer in return. It forces the question — what is worth bleeding for? At the end of the day, when the credits are about to roll, the answer has always been & will always be: Love. It does not matter what particular flavor of love it is, nor whether that love found in a single person, all sentient beings, or in the pure joy of a particular activity. Love is what is worth dying for, and therefore worth living for. As Leonard Cohen put it, “Love’s the only engine of survival.” It is fundamental enough to be present at the beginning in the cosmogenesis of various systems.
Why did the One become Two? In order to experience Love. As Crowley wrote in the Book of the Law, “I am divided for love’s sake, for the chance of union.” Love requires division between the known and unknown, self and other, heaven and earth, mundane and mysterious. It is here, in the last decan of Pisces, generally held to be the very end of the zodiac, that the two fish spiral back to their origin point — the One that divided itself for the sake of Love. Yet things get lost on their way into manifestation. The love which begins a romance gets buried, lost, obscured. The passion which once inspired the divine artist fades, and the art itself becomes rote and mechanical. We must return to this mysterious source from time to time and sip its rejuvenative waters.
For only love can justify suffering. Yet the source is obscure, and trapped in the mythical past. There are not only temporal barriers, but metaphysical ones, which separate us from it. The process of return, the grail quest, is therefore an odd one, for we often do not know where to begin. When our love is insufficient to justify life, we wander aimlessly, carrying with us an objectless dissatisfaction. As in Hamlet’s doleful monologue, “How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world!”
All of the worlds’ horrors become unbearable when there is no reason to bear them. Every story seems to end in tragedy. This is the 10 of Cups inverted, the Unhappy Ending. Yet when we remember our love, the card is turned right side up, and the happy Hollywood ending suddenly seems not only possible, but inevitable, simply because it was all worth it.
We are constantly misplacing our love, giving it to the wrong people, attaching it to fleeting situations, refusing to feel it except under specific conditions. Love is not a product of those situations or people. They are the window through which we see the rainbow. Yet in order to recover it, to remember it, we must work backwards, through the times and faces. The ork is an alchemical act of separation, sifting love itself from all names and conditions.
They are the plumbing, not the water. Returning to the ocean, you can begin the water cycle again, from the beginning. Let it evaporate into clouds, then fall as fresh rain, to be absorbed by the earth and become part of living bodies. The end is preparation for the beginning. The last sign of the zodiac is the ocean from which the first emerges.
A Hierarchy of Madness
From this boundless, irrational love proceeds one of your most potent assets, your “good crazy.” Good crazy is your willingness to chase a dream down, despite what everybody, including the statistics, say. Angry may get shit done, but it can’t hold a candle to good crazy. Good crazy hails from the majestic, turbulent realm of the soul, does not give a fuck, and cannot be stopped. The thing is, you don’t pick your good crazy. You discover it. Everyone gets some, but it’s not something you construct or create. It’s something you receive and accept. Good crazy is a result of surrender to something bigger, deeper and truer than the conscious personality.
Unfortunately, it is easy to confuse with bad crazy. There’s a lot of bad crazy out there, and it is easily transmissible. So how do you tell the good crazy from the bad? Love. Good crazy always has, at it’s core, an ecstatic embrace. It’s wiling to pursue its Beatrice through the Inferno & back because it loves & loves hard. It wants to give & give everything. Bad crazy, which is most crazy, is fundamentally about aversion. It hates this. It drowns itself in pleasure to avoid that. Its root is always negation. Just as the varieties of socially transmissible madnesses out there are often treated as normal or even desirable, good crazy often gets a bad name. Even if you find it within, don’t expect everybody to praise and honor it. That’s for you to do. Basically, license to say fuck you if you don’t get it. Then, “that’s for you to do.”