One Could Say The Higher The Spirit Goes, The More Deeply The Soul Sinks Down Into The Waters Of Melancholy And Tragedy. Drowning In That Water Is As Sweet As Rising.
The Door To The Soul Is Unlocked; You Do Not Need To Please The Doorkeeper, The Door In Front Of You Is Yours, Intended For You, And The Doorkeeper Obeys When Spoken To.
I'm Not Much Of A Crier But It Is Mildly Soul-destroying And Exposing To Do Something Physical That You Are Terrible At In Front Of Other People.
I Began To See That My Problems, Seen Spiritually, Were Really My Soul's Plusses.
It Was Not Necessarily The Best Of Times In America When Catholics And Protestants Were Suspicious Of And Hated One Another; But At Least They Were Taking Their Beliefs Seriously, And The More Or Less Satisfactory Accommodations They Worked Out Were Not Simply The Result Of Apathy About The State Of Their Souls.
Flowers Are Reincarnation. They Come Out Of The Earth Of Our Ashes. Nothing Else Looks So Soul-like.
Nothing Happened. And Everything Did. Your Whole Life You Can Be Told Something Is Wrong And So You Believe It. Why Should You Question It? But Then Slowly Seeds Are Planted Inside Of You, One By One, By A Touch Or A Look Or A Day Skateboarding In A Park, And They Start To Burst Out Of Old Hulls Shells And They Start To Sprout. And Pretty Soon There Are So Many Of Them. They Are Named Love And Trust And Kindness And Joy And Desire And Wonder And Spirit And Soulmate. They Grow Into A Garden So Dense And Thick That It Starts To Invade Your Brain Where The Old Things You Were Once Told Are Dying.
But The First Differentiation Of Its Reflection In The Manifested World Is Purely Spiritual, And The Beings Generated In It Are Not Endowed With A Consciousness That Has Any Relation To The One We Conceive Of.
Dogma? Faith? These Are The Right And Left Pillars Of Every Soul-crushing Theology. Theosophists Have No Dogmas, Exact No Blind Faith.
