The Eternal Jew’s Tale, #174, Abarbanel 4.73

In this episode out to the outermost orbits, the outermost house.

The Eternal Jew’s Tale

Twentieth Era, Part 5, ~1483 C.E., Iberia

The Abarbanel Cycle, 4.73

The Ladder of Ascents, 7.3

Compiled by Isaac Abarbanel

With the help of the Eternal Jew and his wife Batkol

2.3 The Second Palace, its Third Gate

Come and look at the third rung, of vehicles transporting us:

You’re sitting in the back of a wagon on sacks packed with flour, wheat, and hay. The driver is sitting facing you while he switches his bony donkey’s back. Behind, your village, and further behind, snow-capped mountains. Now you see the wagon go by as you stand in a field, watching it lurch and bump and sway. Waking, you think, ‘What a mixed up dream. Those mountains don’t rise from behind the town. They should have been in front of the cart. And how could you see the driver’s face instead of his back? And when did you climb out of the cart? Crazy dream!’ Mixed up? No! This dream hints at the many perspectives in Ruakh-sense that see from multiple places and times, all at once. Perspective unbound from body and sense, from I and eye. In Ruakh, ‘I’ can be everywhere, throughout time or without time, unlike material us, all packed like sacks of wheat, grain by grain, moment by moment into a life. And all those grains jostle and grind, mixed up and crushed into memory. All those grains, like families and towns, packed together, but separate. All those grains like different worlds, not knowing any others exist. All those kernels carried along by Ruakh down our rutted road.

2.4 The Second Palace, its Fourth Gate

Here’s a dream from the fourth rung to help us keep aligned with the Lor. This is a dream of Ruakh’s force torquing us to change our ways.

You are walking down an overgrown path in a forest, a lion stalking you. But you are ready, your knife is pulled. But now you can’t open your eyes, you can’t see to protect yourself…

Why is Ruakh closing your eyes to predators most dangerous?

Perhaps you’re in a more dangerous place than you are aware of. But your Ruakh knows and is trying to startle you awake, to urgently find a safer route. Or perhaps you are exaggerating your danger, and Ruakh is forcing you to face your fears. This noble beast must conquer you, must sink its teeth into your heart and open you. A higher rung is awaiting you.

Or here is Ruakh bestowing gifts:

A book you have never seen before sits on your desk. Leather bound and gold tooled; beautiful. It looks very ancient and rare. A treasure. How did it come to you?

How little worthy we may be, yet the Lor can lift us. Let us give thanks.

The chashmal* dream is a special case. In it a powerful spark leaps out of the sky and into you, like a lightning bolt or a fiery spirit. Or you see it spark most powerfully between people, hand to hand, mouth to mouth, eye to eye. Or your whole body is lit up in a spark, whether you are thrilled or terrified. These be divine chashmal sparks, transformative powers and awakenings. Shekhina is speaking unmediated, beyond symbols and signs and words. This means the Throne is near at hand. Therefore tread most carefully, as new ascents are coming on and a new spirit is entering you. Your life will leap to a new path.

* Ezek. 1:4

2.5 The Second Palace, its Fifth Gate

We finally come to the highest rung, or others say, the deepest gate in Ruakh, the second Palace of the soul. But remember, ‘rungs’ and ‘palaces’ are metaphors to give form to the infinite in the human experience, which is very crude. This rung reveals faces of guardians and devourers, guides and goads and deceivers too, to lead you on to clarities or drag you back to dimmer worlds or safer rungs.

Here ponder the shades of this dream:

…In a primal forest a king is hunting the bristly boar and grisly wolf. There, he sees one in the thick undergrowth. He shoots. His arrow hits the mark and a piteous groan rises from the bush. Pushing aside bramble and branch, behold! A scrawny hare lies dead. Behold! His son the prince lies dead. Behold! A lion springs from its bed.

You wake. Panic. Horror. Dread…

The dreamer here is not prepared for Ruakh‘s many faces and worlds, and doesn’t know that when he tears the dense and many-layered webs connecting every living thing, what parts of him will spill on the ground. Him who lifts the deadly bow in sport, or in hate-inspired war, shoots into his own soul, nor knows what veins his darts will pierce. And them who sport in angry thoughts, they mostly stab their own soul. And them who nurture jealous plots and prepare a noose… who will hang?

Now ponder all the shades of this:

… A woman, her beauty ethereal, is playing a lute and singing psalms. She beckons you. You follow her thru lovely streets which you know well. She points and doors open wide, revealing treasures and gorgeous arts, or vistas into unknown worlds. She points and you pass thru an open door into a city of heavenly streets. Buildings of onyx and marble, carved with intricate stories in bas relief, and mosaic panels of inlaid gems, displaying ancient histories. And now you see that you are a child, alone, the ethereal woman gone. You know this place. You’ve been here before, many times, but still you’re lost. There on the street you see a man. You know his face, but who is he?…

You wake. You’re back in the-world-is-known. But yet, that dream, you’ve lived it before, many times, or so it seems. In which world do you really live?

The oceans of Ruakh flow thru you, but all you feel is the ebb and flow of emotions which you take for your own. Its waves crash. All you hear is the drone of thoughts you can’t turn off. You cling to them. “My thoughts,” you claim. Ruakh‘s oceans pass thru you. Are you ready to sail those seas? Where is your chart and your astrolabe, so you won’t get lost like Ben Azzai? You are but a tiny cork, bobbing on the surface of Ruakh‘s seas. Perhaps you better close your eyes and return to that dream, your Adam world.

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In the next episode we approach the outer limits of our spiritual exploration.