“Do what you believe to be right, no matter what other people may say. The common mind usually condemns one who has the audacity to reach beyond. In silence, lonely Pilgrim, press on. Great ships that make long voyages are always lonely ships. Great men who have grand and advanced thoughts, who lead great lives, have always lonely lives.” — J.C. Street
Do you ever ponder why that is? There really are very distinctly different types of people in the world, and we all fit neatly in the puzzle. Some are meant to meet someone and fall in love; maybe even start a family. Some are meant to love a little more freely despite the potential consequences. Some will have deeply spiritual lives to the point of discipline and devotion beyond all things mundane. Some will grow up in desperation and emotional depravity and become unstable causing chaos and despair in their wake.
Then there are those of us who are meant to look at all the others and how they go about their lives — rising and falling, succeeding and failing, loving and hating, embracing life and bringing death — and we are the ones who must turn their stories into art, song, poetry and prose. We are the observers, the watchers; the philosophers and occultists; the bards and the scribes.
Why must we be alone? For a time we have our own experiences relative to the rest, but then all of these things pass so that we can muse upon them, and suffer the memories, so that some new generation can appreciate the beauty and tragedy of their tales through our words, brushstrokes, and melodies. Without our solitude we would never have the time, the focus or even the inspiration to ensure that each of our creations are a masterpiece. We wouldn’t be able to dive deeply into the collective psyche (or even our own) to understand the meaning of it all, or at least to make enough sense of it for the sake of our work.
Love is more than intimacy, though. Love surpasses all of these human things. We find our love within ourselves, in our creations, and maybe even in some divine source. In fact, our hearts are so vast that we can’t help but to embrace humanity as a whole. We do what we do in service to them.
We are the little gods, the sin-eaters, the fallen angels, and the men and woman mad with passion and glory. Our loneliness is the ship that sails us to strange destinations, magical worlds, luminous gardens, and even the most desolate planes of the soul; so that we may appreciate all of the things everyone else often take for granted. We are the ones who discover the machinations of the cosmos; the above and below; the inner and the outer.
We are the custodians of beauty; the paladins of spirit; the sentinels of heart and mind; the ghostwriters of the untold; the harbingers of the zeitgeist; and the prophets of light.
We are the true Illuminati — each with our single candle — dedicated to this Great Work.
“Thus is it known if one be ready, if he be endowed with certain gifts, if he be fitted by birth, or by wealth, or by intelligence, or by some other manifest sign. And the servants of the master by his insight shall judge of these. This Knowledge is not for all men. Few indeed are called, but of these few many are chosen. This is the nature of the Work.” — Aleister Crowley