07-02-2017, 12:00 AM
watergaze: I have not looked too deep into the term sobriety. Maybe someone else can say a few words to the link between sadness and sobriety.
The sadness experience does not reduce a sorcerer as you implied by:
"I'd go the way that facing eternity/sadness bring sobriety naturally because we can see our place in the universe better. The scale of things…"
"There is nothing more lonely than eternity... Sadness, for sorcerers, is not personal, It is not quite sadness. It's a wave of energy that comes from the depths of the cosmos."
In the maturity befitting a sorcerer, the conventional expressive form of humble release does not occur. That is, even if the sorcerer cries, there is not the sensation of smallness. Why?
Because, in sobriety the sorcerer at once accepts the entire 'burden' of infinity. The sensation is one of expansion and not contraction. He may begin by weeping tears, because the intake of cosmic sadness is monstrously, humanly unbearable, and yet it is precisely because of his sobriety that the sorcerer accepts his infinite responsibility.
It is not so much as to lose the human connection, but to know the power of one's own autonomy. This is an I AM experience to face in full the unthinkable loneliness. While a sorcerer may initially begin by weeping, or shedding tears of blood, he inevitably begins to laugh. The laughter brings sober clarity, for there is no mistaking the focus.
One is taking on the futility of infinity, so at first the laughter is gut wrenching and painful. The incongruity of one's own laughter in the face of such a monstrous undertaking at once illuminates, makes the laughter contageous. One is at the very heights of controlled folly and grace. This experience is truly powerful.
My first full-fledged experience of this was during an episode of profoundly effective recapitulation. Similar occasions of such sadness revisited me numerous times, but the first was most powerful.
Many times recently I have just wanted to cry as a pitiful human being. Yet, knowledge is a funny stickler. I remember who I AM. Then, I either let pity go (which I usually prefer), or shed tears of blood in laughter verging on insanity. Once I cut through the pain, the latter is totally hilarious (omg).
The sadness experience does not reduce a sorcerer as you implied by:
"I'd go the way that facing eternity/sadness bring sobriety naturally because we can see our place in the universe better. The scale of things…"
"There is nothing more lonely than eternity... Sadness, for sorcerers, is not personal, It is not quite sadness. It's a wave of energy that comes from the depths of the cosmos."
In the maturity befitting a sorcerer, the conventional expressive form of humble release does not occur. That is, even if the sorcerer cries, there is not the sensation of smallness. Why?
Because, in sobriety the sorcerer at once accepts the entire 'burden' of infinity. The sensation is one of expansion and not contraction. He may begin by weeping tears, because the intake of cosmic sadness is monstrously, humanly unbearable, and yet it is precisely because of his sobriety that the sorcerer accepts his infinite responsibility.
It is not so much as to lose the human connection, but to know the power of one's own autonomy. This is an I AM experience to face in full the unthinkable loneliness. While a sorcerer may initially begin by weeping, or shedding tears of blood, he inevitably begins to laugh. The laughter brings sober clarity, for there is no mistaking the focus.
One is taking on the futility of infinity, so at first the laughter is gut wrenching and painful. The incongruity of one's own laughter in the face of such a monstrous undertaking at once illuminates, makes the laughter contageous. One is at the very heights of controlled folly and grace. This experience is truly powerful.
My first full-fledged experience of this was during an episode of profoundly effective recapitulation. Similar occasions of such sadness revisited me numerous times, but the first was most powerful.
Many times recently I have just wanted to cry as a pitiful human being. Yet, knowledge is a funny stickler. I remember who I AM. Then, I either let pity go (which I usually prefer), or shed tears of blood in laughter verging on insanity. Once I cut through the pain, the latter is totally hilarious (omg).