332 lines
15 KiB
Plaintext
332 lines
15 KiB
Plaintext
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The Pantacle - a teaching story
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(c) Gary Dumbauld, 1988
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Michael came, walking slowly, purposefully, to the stone
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circle deep in the woods. Stripped of clothes he came, naked to
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the wind the moon and the stars, a cord of red twice his height
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tied round his waist, a black-hilted knife at his left hip. He
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tried to still his mind, remember his lessons, push his thoughts
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to the back of his mind, and just feel; the feel of the Earth on
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which he trod, the feel of the wind on his body, the feather-
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weight touch of the moonlight on his skin. He tried to put
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himself in harmony with the grand design of the Universe, the
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purpose of the evening, he willed himself sternly to master his
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emotions, listen and look with sacred intent.
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He came, bearing the pantacle before him, balanced firmly on
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his hands. Silver, it was, silver like the moon, carved and
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etched, polished, burnished and blackened with signs and symbols.
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How he had sweated over it, this past year, with hammer and
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chisel, graver and burin, acids and wax, the tools of the
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silversmith. A year and a day it had been, since he was judged
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worthy to become a Priest, and given this task. His to carry,
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this silver shield, but not his to own, till the rite was over
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and he, like his father and mother before him, his aunts and
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uncles and grandparents for generations, inherited by solemn and
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sacred ceremony the High Priesthood of the Wise.
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The High Priestess' athame pressed to his chest, her low,
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clear voice as she asked him the ritual questions, roused him as
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from a dream, of forest dark, and woods enchanted. He answered
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her with a voice not quite fearful, but not as steady as he would
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have wished.
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"I come to this Circle seeking knowledge. I am Michael; my
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face you well know; I have been sworn and initiated into the
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Third Degree, but I would now seek the Priesthood of the Wise. I
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come, bringing as my key this sacred Pantacle, over which I have
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labored for a year and a day; I wish to be instructed in it's
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true meaning; to this end I present my self, the work of my
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hands, and two passwords: Perfect Love and Perfect Trust."
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"All who bring such words are doubly welcome" the High
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Priestess replied, "and I give to you a third password, a kiss",
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and so saying, kissed him on the lips and whirled him sunwise
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into the sacred space. He gazed about himself, his eyes sliding
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easily over the usual implements on the altar, the candles and
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wands, censer, bowls of incense and salt; he looked at the High
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Priestess expectantly.
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The High Priestess spoke again, her voice reverberating
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through the circle, echoing back from the sacred boundary stones;
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"A seeker comes; this his purpose. The purpose of the Wise--to
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teach! As it has ever been, let it now so be done! Who shall
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begin?"
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The Priest in the North stood forward. "I shall begin. Young
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High Priest to be, step to the North."
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Michael walked to the North, handed the Priest his Pantacle, and
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stood silently while the Priest examined it, hoping that his work
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would be judged as correct, hoping he had made an accurate
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rendering of all the signs and symbols that he had been shown, a
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year and a day previous.
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The Priest carefully examined the pantacle, turning it about to
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catch the light of the central fire, then handed it back to the
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boy.
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"It is well done, all is correct. Look upon the symbol at
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the top of the pantacle--the upright triangle. This sign is the
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symbol of fire, the flame straining upwards, and stands for the
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three-fold salute, by which I now salute you, recognizing the
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fire within you, the fire of will, the will to accomplish, the
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will to dare. A year ago you knew nothing of the craft of the
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silversmith, and yet you have taught yourself to make this pan-
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tacle. I say again, well done!", and so saying, the Priest
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touched Michael with his athame on the right shoulder, the top of
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his head, the left shoulder, and again on the right shoulder.
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Putting his arm around Michael's shoulder, the Priest brought
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Michael around sunwards a few steps, then faced him again.
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"The next symbol on the pantacle is a pentagram. This
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pentagram stands for the five-fold salute. In the form of a
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pentagram with one point up, the five-fold salute symbolizes that
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which is the best man has to offer, ascending to the Gods, being
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enriched, expanded and augmented, and returning to enrich the
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life of mankind. Thus, the five fold salute symbolizes the
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microcosm of man containing the macrocosm of the Universe." So
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saying, the Priest touched Michael with the wand, on the right
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hip, head, left hip, right breast, left breast, and right hip.
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A priestess stepped forward, saying, "Now, with your
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permission, I will carry on this candidate's instruction." The
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Priest bowed to her, and returned to his place in the North. The
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Priestess took Michael by the hand and walked with him farther
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around the circle, still moving sunwards. She stopped, released
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his hand, and faced him, taking up a bowl of blue paint.
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Stepping closer, she reached out her blue-daubed hand, and made
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the sign of the labrys on his chest.
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"The next symbol on the pantacle is that of the Goddess in
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her aspect as the two moons, monthly waxing and waning. The
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waxing moon symbolizes that which is outgoing and constructive in
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mankind, the waning moon that which is hidden and withdrawn. The
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waning moon also reminds us that for every accomplishment there
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will be failures, that for every gain in our lives there will be
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setbacks; we are not to weep and wail against the Gods, or fate,
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or karma, but we should accept that there is a balance, and the
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balance will be maintained, whether we will it or not.
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Constructive and destructive, life and death--this is the way the
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world is made; that which dies paves the way for the next round
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of life."
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The Priestess linked arms with him then, and they moved farther
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sunwards about the circle. She turned to him, and kissed him
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firmly on the mouth, saying "The next symbol on the pantacle is
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the kiss. I kiss you, Michael, because we are human; the Gods
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have created us male and female. I also kiss you in token of the
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perfect love and perfect trust I have for you, and for the
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perfect love and perfect trust you declared for us when you
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entered this holy space. That is why you were greeted by the
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High Priestess with a kiss."
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Michael stood, blushing. He could still taste the sweetness of
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her mouth, and his body wanted to respond to her as man to
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woman--it was well he was carrying the pantacle in front of him;
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then he got himself under control, realizing the importance of
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this lesson; the ritual kiss would always be more than a
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handshake between equals, but never quite a sexual overture; an
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acknowledgement, not a demand. He sighed, composed himself, and
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looked at the next sign on the pantacle.
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A stern-looking Priest came towards Michael, his face set in grim
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lines, carrying something Michael could not quite make out. The
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man faced Michael, then walked behind him, carrying what could
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now be clearly seen as a cat o'nine tails. Michael flinched in
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anticipation of being struck; surely the Priest was not going to
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whip him? Ouch! Yes he was!
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"Michael," the Priest said, between strokes, "the next sign
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on the pantacle is the scourge. The scourge of memory. Stand
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tall, now, and be still, it will hurt worse if you try to avoid
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it."
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Now he had stopped striking Michael with the scourge. The welts
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on his back stung and burned, but Michael tried to ignore the
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pain and concentrate on the Priest's voice as he continued.
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"Michael, you told us at your First Degree initiation that
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you were willing to suffer to learn. This scourge will not be
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applied to your back again in a physical sense, but I want you to
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learn to look back upon your life; and take power from the
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foolish stupid things you have done. The mistakes, the petty
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jealousies, the little hurts you've inflicted on your friends,
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your parents, the people around you. Remember, Michael, and as
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you remember, allow yourself to feel sad, to feel the pain and
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embarrassment you've caused. Feel it, take the power from it,
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then let it go! Go onward, take strength from your past, don't
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dwell on it, but don't pretend the past never happened."
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The Priest again stepped behind Michael, this time carrying a pot
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of something in his hand. Michael flinched again as something
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touched his back, but this was cool and soothing, drawing out the
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pain. The Priest waited a few moments, till he saw that the
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cooling balm had done its work, then took Michael gently by the
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hand and drew him along, ever sunwards, to explain the next
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symbol.
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"The next symbol on the pantacle is the sign of the God, the
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horned circle. The horned circle represents, among other things,
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the Cretan bull, annually sacrificed by our ancestors. The bull
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symbolizes the wild magic of the God, the intuitional magic, the
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magic that springs from the instinct. The Cretan priests
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sacrificed the bull, thus indicating the triumph of reason and
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intellect over instinct and intuition. We, however are not
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Cretans, and we do not immolate the bull of intuition on the
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altar of reason. Logic and reason are fine in their place, but
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never neglect the way you feel; never forget that the universe is
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a mixture, a combination, a melding of the tangible and the
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unreal, instinct and logic. Now I must retire, your instruction
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will be completed by the High Priestess."
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The High priestess approached Michael, walking slowly,
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deliberately, each foot placed with purpose, her upright carriage
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reminding him of her status, first among equals, High Priestess
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of the Coven, the Circle of the Wise.
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She stepped closer. "Michael," she said, "the last symbol on the
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rim of the pantacle is the inverted triangle, the alchemical
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symbol of water; representing the number three, the number of
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life. It is a gate, a gateway of life, a gateway of time, for
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time is past, present, and future; life is body, mind, spirit. I
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am about to bestow upon you, the three-fold kiss, to bring your
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body, your past, your mind, the present, your spirit, and the
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future to bear on this moment."
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So saying, she bent and kissed him, first on the right shoulder,
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then the left; kneeling she kissed him just above the phallus,
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and then on his right shoulder again.
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"Michael, you have now passed around the rim of the
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pantacle, let us now move to the center, and I will instruct you
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in the meaning of the central pentagram. The pentagram in the
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center of the pantacle is the sign of mankind. If I stand thus,
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with feet apart, hands stretched to the winds, head erect, the
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pentagram will enclose my body. We therefore can observe that
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the pentagram in the center of the pantacle represents mankind in
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the center of the universe, surrounded by Goddess and God;
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blessings and reminders; past, present and future; good memories
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and bad; light and life, love and law. The central pentagram
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therefore can serve as a reminder to us, that the Universe was
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NOT made for man, man was made for the Universe."
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She knelt at his feet, smiling, and kissed him, first on the
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left foot, then the right, saying, "I bless your feet, Michael,
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that have brought you in these ways, reminding you to be ever
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ready to go on foot, to help, protect, and defend the brothers
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and sisters of the Wise."
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She kissed his knees, saying, "I bless your knees, reminding
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you to ever go on bent knee in humility when supplicating the
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Deities, that one who knows his own worth will gladly kneel in
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order to learn."
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She kissed his phallus, and said, "I bless and consecrate
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the organ of generation, that in time you may know that love is
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the great teacher of equality; love is the prime example of man
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and woman as equals; two beings, alike in all ways, equal in all
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ways, but totally different; one incomplete without the other;
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forever opposite, but forever complimentary. Indiscriminate sex
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will gain you nothing, Michael, for though sex is magic, love is
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the magician."
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She kissed his right and left breast, saying "I bless your
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breast, and remind you to keep within the safe repository of the
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breast, the secrets of the Wise, as if under lock and key."
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Then she kissed him on the mouth, and said, "I bless your
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mouth, Michael; henceforth, as a High Priest, you will be a
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teacher, and the words of your mouth, based in knowledge,
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leavened with intuition and instinct, uttered with magical will,
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shall live in the memory of the Wise. Go forward, make your
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progress, High Priest and Magus!
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