…after tea with Spinoza in what became a psychedelic debate about the nature of the deus sive natura that Spinoza saw so finely in the lense of his mind. Often butterflies have popped up in my life as living symbols of metamorphosis. Tonight was no exception as after a few hours on a psychic stage as Mephistopheles, or Mephisto, or Old Nick to his friends I found Lucifer able to shed his light on the situation and proved once again that the devil has all the best tunes. I witnessed a girlfriend channel awakening that seemed pretty convincing and after Mercury retrograde it all had to be about communication. Soma rightly prepared the way to realising the true significance of such cosmic symbols. The speed of Mercury’s orbit was perhaps the reason why it became connected with communication being such a swift messenger so close to the sun.
“The Galactic Butterfly is said to represent all of the consciousness that has ever existed in this galaxy. All of our physical ancestors both human, animal, reptile, fish, shell fish, plants as well as the consciousness which organized all of the raw material from a whirling disk into stars then planets and solar systems. Big Mind. So big that the original Maya had no symbol for this. In their civilization it was like having no name for God. Just knowing the concept was enough. Later this pattern was devised by Toltec or Zapatec weavers as a pattern for blankets and this is where Jose Arguelles came across it. He called it Hunab Ku. The indigenous peoples call it “The Galactic Butterfly”. Butterflies are seen as ancestors returning for a visit to physicality. These symbols are very powerful as they signal actively joining the consciousness of the galaxy. The butterfly effect of self organising chaos is one way to start to understand complex systems.
Blake’s world in a grain of sand or
“The Lilly of the valley breathing in the humble grass
Answerd the lovely maid and said: I am a watry weed,
And I am very small and love to dwell in lowly vales:
So weak the gilded butterfly scarce perches on my head
Yet I am visited from heaven and he that smiles on all
Walks in the valley, and each morn over me spreads his hand
Saying, rejoice thou humble grass, thou new-born lily flower
Thou gentle maid of silent valleys and of modest brooks:
For thou shall be clothed in light, and fed with morning manna:
Till summers heat melts thee beside the fountains and the springs
To flourish in eternal vales: they why should Thel complain.
Why should the mistress of the vales of Har, utter a sigh.
She ceasd & smild in tears, then sat down in her silver shrine.”