The 11th Path, Aleph, The Fool

The Fiery Intelligence

It is early morning on a day in the beginning of summer. You are walking down a winding path through pastoral hills with you small white dog at your heels. Birds are singing in the bushes and verdant trees. The rest of the world is quiet beneath their music. You bask in peacefulness, happy to find yourself in such beauty.

Rounding a bend, you see a farmer plowing the field with his ox is far off in the distance. You stop and study the scene fascinated for reasons you don’t understand. The farmer bends and appears to plan seeds in the long furrow that has just been made.

You start walking again, knowing that your destination is to meet this farmer face to face. Not knowing why this is of such importance, you trust you instincts. Breathing the fresh air deeply into your lungs, feeling as though you could walk forever, you have no worries about what may be ahead. Perhaps the farmer holds a piece of the mystery of why you are on t is path and will give you information that will point to the direction you should follow for the rest of your journey.

An eagle cries in the cloudless sky; the songs of the other birds that have kept you company so far fall silent. The farmer hears the cry too and looks up. You shield your eyes from the sun and watch the eagle looping circles to make an infinity sign connecting the air between where you are standing and the field of the farmer.

The eagle flies off toward mountains that rise behind you. Your dog barks furiously and runs off the path into the shrubbery. You call for her too come back, but she is feeling especially mischievous and does not heed your commands. The dog has been your companion for a long time, and you have learned to trust her instincts. To find her, though, you must climb backup the hill, over the wild terrain, leaving the path to follow her yapping now far away.

You laugh, ready for an adventure, deciding that if you are really meant to meet the farmer, you eventually will. As soon as you step off the path, the light changes. The sun now burns with white energy and casts this purified light into every blade of grass, every stone. Even the birds’ songs that have started again sound sweeter, like notes of honey in the trees.

Your senses are bathed in delight the farther you travel from the well-groomed path. The numinous states of the bushes and trees, even the rocks, are unveiling the part of God that is contained within their energy.

You reach as aspen grove and stop to listen to the wind rustling through the quaking leaves. The white tree bark is almost too bright to look upon, as the sunlight grows even more intense.

The leaves whisper: You are on holy ground. You have crossed over to the sacred because you were willing to follow your deepest instincts. Bend to the wind as we do and be as open to wonder. You stand in the midst of the Logos, the light of the Son, who makes everything new. The Holy Spirit, which He promised to send to the world, is here to comfort and guide you.

You find yourself face down on the ground; the whole world has become a reflection of the white luster of sunlight. The Presence of God moves over you in waves of pulsing light. The Visage burns intensely upon your skin, penetrating beyond the barrier of your body to the part of you that is eternal.

This vision slowly subsides. You’re standing on the path holding an eagle feather and looking once again at the farmer who has begun to plow again in the valley below. The dog runs down the hill barking happily to be near you and scampers around your feet. She dashes ahead and then looks back at you expectantly.

Trusting her once more, you follow the trail down the hill until you come to the fence that surrounds the farmer’s field. The farmer looks up, and your own face gazes back at you.

You hand the feather to your other self, and, at this moment, the two of you become one and your new-combined self peers down at the plowed furrow. Several bright pieces of topaz sparkle in the dirt. You pick them up and brush the dirt away from their hard surfaces.

The topaz dance on you palm. They then spin even fast until their composition breaks down and the neutrons in the atoms revolve around each other. Intense heat washes over your body as it did in the grove; you now feel as though you are on fire, the energy of a volcano pent inside of you.

Tongues of the sacred fire of the Holy Spirit consume the field, washing over it with as much potency as when the Upper Room was filled and the followers of Master Jesus had their own tongues freed to speak and proclaim his message.

The little dog runs through the flames to you. She jumps into your arms, and the two of you watch the fire spouts whirl as you stand next to the plow and the ox. You realize you are at the Beginning, at the Vortex where the Ineffable transforms into Manifestation.

Your mind tells you that perhaps you should fear, for you are standing in the midst of the All Mighty, but the dog held in your arms at the heart level comforts you. You trust, instead. You are aware that even if you were destroyed by this power, you would still be.

You unyoke your faithful ox from the plow. The time to leave this field has come. Holding the little dog a bit closer, you lead your ox into a fire-tongue swirling by and fall trusting into a new creation.