Outstretched
                          between mountains lies the battlefield where valiant
                          astrologers defend the sacred, protect
                          the fragile, and withstand the fierce winds that threaten
                          to drown the dreams, visions, and ancient stories of
                          old in a world of logic and numbers and efficient machinery.
                          Like liberal Amish people who move in a world of automobiles,
                          airplanes, and computers, and even enjoy their benefits,
                          we cling tightly to the ancient, the immeasurable,
                          and the qualities of the soul.  
                      We
                          aspire to where even Carl Jung and Joseph Campbell
                          would tread only a short
                            way. We dive deeper and speak in parables like the
                            master of the Piscean age. The hero on his journey
                            and the other epic tales are not just children's
                          stories, the relics that only primitive peoples cling
                          to, or
                            psychological dynamics elucidated by those educated
                            with books and the rigid constraints of educational
                            institutions built in the modern industrial complex.
                            These myths are "writ in the stars". The
                              symbol is not an afterthought or shadow of some quantum
                              reality so artfully and ingeniously constructed by
                              great brains fed on the foods of corporate America.
                              Amidst the ketchup, french fries, and the fast-food
                              hamburger lies the discoveries of our sciences which
                              solve all human problems with a pill promoted between
                        episodes of a TV show.                        We
                          have found the old spinster, the regal king, and the
                          searfaring philosopher writ
                              in the stars; they are vast and cosmic and we are
                            a part of them and not the reverse. Like strong fathers
                              and mothers we protect the precious gift that we
                            have
                              been given. We have identified the myths and stories
                              inscribed in our souls from the vast reaches of
                          space, and we have delineated the stories in a way
                          that
                            even the mayans, babylonians, and greeks have not
                      done.  
                      Our
                          stories were fashioned by modern astrologers from
                                the clues given by the thousands who have gone
                            before
                                us. We may argue about the true source of truth
                            and whether the trickster is Uranus, Mercury, or
                          Ketu, and whether Aquarius is fixed and Saturnian or
                            the
                                home or Uranus, but protectors all are we. With
                            defiance we face a world that has placed the stories
                            inscribed
                                by the cosmos as secondary or illusionary and
                          dive
                                into the heart of what makes us truly human and
                            say our grace in a universal language beyond the
                      confines of man's religions.  
                      We
                          are wary of the astrologer who introduces too many
                          numbers, too many calculations,
                                  and too many "scientific" ideas into
                                  a world that is sacred and gentle, mysterious
                                  and eloquent, far
                                  more eloquent than the mechanical processes
                                  of modern science. But could we be
                                  ourselves
                                  yet a bit
                                  blinded by the simple melodies and harmonies
                                  of our youth and yet a more perfect and celestial
                                  design woven
                                  in the fine tapestries of Handel and Mozart
                                  been muddied by the pounding beat of the Rolling
                                  Stones, and has
                                  even the poetry of Yeats and Dylan (both Bob
                                  and Thomas) and the stories of the masters
                                  of East and West placed
                                  a perimeter for our vision which is vast, though
                                  not vast enough to see that we are protecting
                                  our precious
                                  gift a bit too much, and the alchemical marriage
                                  awaits our own liberation from the cultural
                                  limitations of
                                  our times. Awaiting
                                  us is the liberation into the intricate and
                                  elegant intelligence
                                  and beauty that
                                  all of us are capable of entering, that each
                                  and every one of us is not limited neither
                                  in music, nor art,
                                  nor intuition, nor communion with the devas,
                                  nor number, nor logic. We can receive all of
                                  these and more and
                                  in so doing be blessed in a communion both
                                  whole and of all, and the alchemical marriage
                                  joining all-in-one
                                  be found at last, and then yes, we can say
                                  that we have overcome and peace reigns in our
                      kingdom.  
                      Thus
                                    lies the path of cosmic cybernetics where
                          all gifts and visions are born, and none of God's
                                    gifts are left
                                    as second-class citizens, and science and
                          art are one and none are blasphemed for being incapable,
                                    limited,
                                    or unworthy of highest praise and placement
                                    on the altar of illumination. We have protected
                                    our child
                                    too carefully and kept the child from entering
                                    a universe more grand than the one we know.
                                    We must not place
                                    our self-defined limitations on the universe,
                                    but accept that in our mortal embodiments
                          we
                                    can not traverse
                                    all the mysteries and yet together surrendered
                                    to the spirit that moves us at last have
                          joined altogether
                                    in oneness. Accept all of these and unto
                      you all shall be given. 
                        
                        
                         
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