Basically, we are saying the same things, Don.
... no god that you cannot discover yourself ...
Last evening I was thinking about sign posts in our lives. There are many little ones, added up by the by we make a leap to comprehension. Physical sign posts, such as the Pyramids and magnifient Cathedrals, which the Elders left, are also for the Learning.
You say we need no help, yet all of us Questers read, learn, and quote from those Giants on whose shoulders all Humanity stands. In doing so, we mull over the read, and in doing that, we
re-create our own reality via our references stored in our memory, thus we find "the true architect of the reality I (we) inhabit". That is quantum physics in a nutshell, my Mothers, "everyone makes it for themselves as he likes it."
"So Charlotte, if you want to see and discover God ... just look in the mirror ... " Is not this what we have been debating about all along: to become gods by Grace since in this illusionary "reality" we are creatures of flesh, which yet must needs be spiritualized.
Is it not written in the Scriptures, I said, ye are gods.
What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason!
how infinate in faculties! in form and moving how
express and admirable! in action how like an angel!
in appearance how like a god!
Hamlet
'We have simply created matter with our minds", i.e. "Our inner state becomes our outer invironment, both here in this world and, even more so, in the life of the world to come."
We also agree that the Alchemists guarded their secrets, of transformation and re-birth in this "reality", not after we die physically, for thousands of years so that "the unlimited power" not fall in the wrong hands. "And this is why a man would gladly die - Firstly because we can never really die ..." Have I not been talking "Immortality" for how long?
Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.
St. John 3:3
I need not be convinced that this reality, "it is all an illusion." Hamlet again: 'And yet to me what is this quintessence of dust?'.
"It is a dream, maybe even a game"
Our revels are now ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it enherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded by a sleep.
Prospero
The Tempest
If its Magic you like, read Act 5, The Tempest, but you have to be so still that the air around you hears, that's Magic.
We agree on almost everything, just see it through different prisms
Love
Charlotte