Who Is Ludwig Klages?

October 18, 2024

In my local credit union this morning, after a complicated transaction involving all sorts of small amounts, I suddenly asked the clerk, plaintively,

“Do you think they have money in heaven?”

Of course, the question took her by surprise. But the tone between us shifted instantly, as she responded. “I don’t think so, because in heaven you can have anything you want.”

I’ve always known this: beyond money, beneath money, in heaven or here on earth, dwells The Real.

 

Money, a scrim upon Mother Earth.

A scum.

A foolish attempt to identify, quantify, assign fake hierarchical value to,

arbitray maps of what is,

essentially,

MYSTERY.

 

Our exchange in the bank reminds me of yesterday’s Paul Cudenec essay, where he hails the philosophy of Ludwig Klages (1872-1956), someone I’d identify as a real philosopher, i.e., one who was both absorbed in, and attempting to give linguistic form to, The Real.

I, supposedly a philosopher, had never heard of Ludwig Klages!

 

Life Philosophy: Soul Rhythm, Magic and Love

 

How’s this for a Klages question Cudenec identifies that just keeps on resonating . . .

How’s this for a Cudenec movement that we might all get behind?

Two more Klages quotes from Cudenec:

YES. Once again, I am reminded me of the morning a few years ago, when I stood in front of our pond and was, all of a sudden, pulsed from below with an enormous force that almost collapsed my body to the ground.

Mother Earth, speaking.

Here’s a video I just found and plan to absorb.

 

WHAT IS REAL EDUCATION? A Personal Journey

October 17, 2024

This morning, on my walk with puppy Scampi, I came across graffiti in an out of the way place.

COLLEGE IS FOR SUCKERS

Bloomington Indiana is a college town. I’m very surprised that, in twenty years, I haven’t come across any graffiti echoing this one!

And it’s not just college. It all starts much much earlier.

And what are young people indoctrinated into now? The DEI/trans/woke agenda.

I wonder: how many wake up during the brainwashing process?

I did, way back in my early 20s. All it took was one LSD trip.

Blew my mind wide open. Kinda like this.

Yes, “the music of the spheres” sounds inside too, as revealed by the planetary patterns of astrology, which I began to study in my early 30s.

That single dose of LSD decisively altered not just my perception of the outer world. Gradually, over time, the inner world of the unconscious fascinated, too. I was determined to become whole, a sovereign soul,  which meant: I had to integrate with this unknown part of myself which is mapped, in astrology, by the mysterious reaches of the usually-longer-than-life cycles of the outer planets: Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto.

 

Prior to that, when I was 30, after completing my doctorate in philosophy (with a dissertation that called into question the entire history of philosophy), I got a job in an experimental college in California. I wanted to prompt students to begin to do what I had recognized as the primary task of a truly conscious life: investigate the unconscious mind, using the tools of journaling, dreams, certain books, and co-counseling with others.

My main teacher? C.G. Jung, starting with his Memories, Dreams and Reflections. This journey involves uncovering buried childhood traumas, reliving them in order to heal. As you can imagine, I spent way more time in one-to-one counseling than in “class.”

At the beginning of the following year, right before classes were to begin again, I was fired. And I’d say now, rightly so. I had taken on way too much, and needed to be brought up short.

Thus began my own dark night of the soul, during which I discovered, to my amazement, that astrology offers a map, both in time and space, of the soul’s journey through life via the particular personality it took on this time around.

 

Needless to say, “media” is another form of education/indoctrination. Something to be seen through, which, for example, I was equipped to do instantly, when the covid con began.

Sports, other large public events, including political rallies, can also be viewed through this same distorting/revealing “LSD”-like lens.

Wake up, folks. It’s time.

WAKE UP! IT’S TIME!

This was the loud, vociferous message gifted to me in a dream by Raven, whom I instantly recognized as the Crone archetype. Maiden, to Mother, to Crone — the third stage of being a woman. The one we’ve neglected, ignored, tried to avoid as a culture. The wisdom of the Crone, she who has been buried for thousands of years. That was in 1989. I went on to publish Crone Chronicles, A Journal of Conscious Aging, which ran for the next twelve years, one Jupiter cycle, and helped to ignite a movement to appreciate the astonishing gifts of the aging process, to the self and to the culture at large.