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eagna-eilis · 1 year ago

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Ach-To and Irish Archaeology

The sequels were my entry into Star Wars and I never would have gone to see The Force Awakens if I wasn't an archaeology nerd.

During the production of Episode VII, a decent number of people with an interest in our archaeological heritage here in Ireland were quite worried about the impact of filming on one of our only two UNESCO World Heritage Sites, the island known as Skellig Michael down off the coast of Kerry.

I went to the film to see if any potential damage was worth it, or if they'd do something unspeakably stupid with it in-universe. I wanted to see if it was respected.

And holy hell I was NOT disappointed. I think I walked out of TFA sniffling to myself about how beautiful the Skellig looked and how it seemed like its use as a location was not just respectful but heavily inspired by its real history.

See, Skellig Michael was a monastic hermitage established at a point when Christianity was so new that the man who ordered its founding sometime in the first century CE was himself ordained by the Apostle Paul. The fellah from the Bible who harassed all and sundry with his letters, THAT Apostle Paul. This is how old a Christian site the Skellig is. It predates St. Patrick by at the very least two hundred years.

The steps we watch Rey climb were originally cut NEARLY TWO THOUSAND YEARS AGO. They have been reworked and repaired many many times since, of course. Still, the path the camera follows Daisy Ridley up is as much an ancient path built by the founders of a faith in real life as it is in the movies.

A hermitage was a place where monks went to live lives of solitude and asceticism so as better to achieve wisdom. The practice is common to many of the major world religions, including the myriad East Asian faiths which inspired the fictional Jedi.

It is said that the hermitage and monastery were originally built with the purpose of housing mystical texts belonging to the Essanes, one of the sects of Second Temple Judaism which influenced some of the doctrines of Christianity. They also, according to what I have read, characterised good and evil as 'light' and 'darkness' and were celibate.

As such, the use of the island in TFA and TLJ does not merely respect Skellig Michael's history, it honours it. It is framed as somewhere ancient and sacred, which it is. It is framed as a place where a mystic goes to live on his own surrounded by nature that is at once punishing and sublime, which of course it was. It shown to be a place established to protect texts written at the establishment of a faith, which it may well have been.

This level of genuine respect for my cultural heritage by Rian Johnson in particular is astonishing. I don't think anyone from outside the US ever really trusts Americans not to treat our built history like it's Disneyland. Much of the incorporation of the Skellig's real past into a fictional galactic history occurs in TLJ, which is why I'm giving Rian so much credit.

It's Luke's death scene which makes the honouring of Irish archaeological history most apparent though.

Johnson takes the archaeological iconography back a further three thousand years for his final tribute to my culture's beautiful historical temples. This time, he incorporates neolithic passage tomb imagery, specifically that of Newgrange, which is up the country from the Skellig.

I think if you understand what the image represents then it makes a deeply emotional scene even more resonant.

The scene I'm referring to is Luke's death.

As he looks to the horizon, to the suns, we view him from the interior of the First Jedi Temple. The sunset aligns with the passageway into the ancient sanctuary, illuminating it as he becomes one with the Force.

As for Newgrange, every year during the Winter Solstice it aligns with the sunrise. The coldest, darkest, wettest, most miserable time of the year on a North Atlantic island where it is often cold, wet, and miserable even in the summer. And the sun comes up even then, and on a cloudless morning a beam of sunlight travels down the corridor and illuminates the chamber inside the mound.

You guys can see this, right? The similarity of the images? The line of light on the floor?

Luke's death scene is beautiful but I think it's a thousand times more moving with this visual context. Luke's sequel arc isn't merely populated by a lore and iconography that honour the place where the end of his story was filmed, I think that incorporation of that history and mythology honours Luke.

We don't know for sure what the Neolithic people believed, religion-wise. We know next to nothing about their rituals. We know that there were ashes laid to rest at Newgrange. There is some speculation that the idea was that the sun coming into the place that kept those ashes brought the spirits of those deceased people over to the other side.

It's also almost impossible not to interpret the sunlight coming into Newgrange as an extraordinary expression of hope. If you know this climate, at this latitude, you know how horrible the winter is. We don't even have the benefit of crispy-snowwy sunlit days. It's grey and it's dark and it's often wet. And every single year the earth tilts back and the days get long again.

The cycle ends and begins again. Death and rebirth. And hope, like the sun, which though unseen will always return. And so we make it through the winter, and through the night.

As it transpired the worries about the impact of the Star Wars Sequels upon Skellig Michael were unfounded. There was no damage caused that visitors wouldn't have also caused. There also wasn't a large uptick in people wanting to visit because of its status as a SW location, in part I think because the sequels just aren't that beloved.

But they're beloved to me, in no small part because of the way they treated a built heritage very dear to my heart. I think they deserve respect for that at the least.

#star wars meta #ach-to #irish history #Irish Archaeology #first jedi temple #skellig michael #newgrange #luke skywalker #the last jedi #early christianity #neolithic #historical parallels in star wars #star wars and history #star wars and mythology #star wars and archaeology

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hieromonkcharbel · 1 year ago

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Can the Ladder, a work written by a hermit monk who lived 1,400 years ago, say something to us today? Can the existential journey of a man who lived his entire life on Mount Sinai in such a distant time be relevant to us?

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

After 20 Catecheses dedicated to the Apostle Paul, today I would like to return to presenting the great writers of the Church of the East and of the West in the Middle Ages. And I am proposing the figure of John known as Climacus, a Latin transliteration of the Greek term klimakos, which means of the ladder (klimax). This is the title of his most important work in which he describes the ladder of human life ascending towards God. He was born in about 575 a.d. He lived, therefore, during the years in which Byzantium, the capital of the Roman Empire of the East, experienced the greatest crisis in its history. The geographical situation of the Empire suddenly changed and the torrent of barbarian invasions swept away all its structures. Only the structure of the Church withstood them, continuing in these difficult times to carry out her missionary, human, social and cultural action, especially through the network of monasteries in which great religious figures such as, precisely, John Climacus were active.

John lived and told of his spiritual experiences in the Mountains of Sinai, where Moses encountered God and Elijah heard his voice. Information on him has been preserved in a brief Life (PG 88, 596-608), written by a monk, Daniel of Raithu. At the age of 16, John, who had become a monk on Mount Sinai, made himself a disciple of Abba Martyr, an "elder", that is, a "wise man". At about 20 years of age, he chose to live as a hermit in a grotto at the foot of the mountain in the locality of Tola, eight kilometres from the present-day St Catherine's Monastery. Solitude, however, did not prevent him from meeting people eager for spiritual direction, or from paying visits to several monasteries near Alexandria. In fact, far from being an escape from the world and human reality, his eremitical retreat led to ardent love for others (Life, 5) and for God (ibid., 7). After 40 years of life as a hermit, lived in love for God and for neighbour years in which he wept, prayed and fought with demons he was appointed hegumen of the large monastery on Mount Sinai and thus returned to cenobitic life in a monastery. However, several years before his death, nostalgic for the eremitical life, he handed over the government of the community to his brother, a monk in the same monastery.

John died after the year 650. He lived his life between two mountains, Sinai and Tabor and one can truly say that he radiated the light which Moses saw on Sinai and which was contemplated by the three Apostles on Mount Tabor!

He became famous, as I have already said, through his work, entitled The Climax, in the West known as the Ladder of Divine Ascent (PG 88, 632-1164). Composed at the insistent request of the hegumen of the neighbouring Monastery of Raithu in Sinai, the Ladder is a complete treatise of spiritual life in which John describes the monk's journey from renunciation of the world to the perfection of love. This journey according to his book covers 30 steps, each one of which is linked to the next. The journey may be summarized in three consecutive stages: the first is expressed in renunciation of the world in order to return to a state of evangelical childhood. Thus, the essential is not the renunciation but rather the connection with what Jesus said, that is, the return to true childhood in the spiritual sense, becoming like children. John comments: "A good foundation of three layers and three pillars is: innocence, fasting and temperance. Let all babes in Christ (cf. 1 Cor 3: 1) begin with these virtues, taking as their model the natural babes" (1, 20; 636). Voluntary detachment from beloved people and places permits the soul to enter into deeper communion with God. This renunciation leads to obedience which is the way to humility through humiliations which will never be absent on the part of the brethren. John comments: "Blessed is he who has mortified his will to the very end and has entrusted the care of himself to his teacher in the Lord: indeed he will be placed on the right hand of the Crucified One!" (4, 37; 704).

The second stage of the journey consists in spiritual combat against the passions. Every step of the ladder is linked to a principal passion that is defined and diagnosed, with an indication of the treatment and a proposal of the corresponding virtue. All together, these steps of the ladder undoubtedly constitute the most important treatise of spiritual strategy that we possess. The struggle against the passions, however, is steeped in the positive it does not remain as something negative thanks to the image of the "fire" of the Holy Spirit: that "all those who enter upon the good fight (cf. 1 Tm 6: 12), which is hard and narrow,... may realize that they must leap into the fire, if they really expect the celestial fire to dwell in them" (1,18; 636). The fire of the Holy Spirit is the fire of love and truth. The power of the Holy Spirit alone guarantees victory. However, according to John Climacus it is important to be aware that the passions are not evil in themselves; they become so through human freedom's wrong use of them. If they are purified, the passions reveal to man the path towards God with energy unified by ascesis and grace and, "if they have received from the Creator an order and a beginning..., the limit of virtue is boundless" (26/2, 37; 1068).

The last stage of the journey is Christian perfection that is developed in the last seven steps of the Ladder. These are the highest stages of spiritual life, which can be experienced by the "Hesychasts": the solitaries, those who have attained quiet and inner peace; but these stages are also accessible to the more fervent cenobites. Of the first three simplicity, humility and discernment John, in line with the Desert Fathers, considered the ability to discern, the most important. Every type of behaviour must be subject to discernment; everything, in fact, depends on one's deepest motivations, which need to be closely examined. Here one enters into the soul of the person and it is a question of reawakening in the hermit, in the Christian, spiritual sensitivity and a "feeling heart", which are gifts from God: "After God, we ought to follow our conscience as a rule and guide in everything," (26/1,5; 1013). In this way one reaches tranquillity of soul, hesychia, by means of which the soul may gaze upon the abyss of the divine mysteries.

The state of quiet, of inner peace, prepares the Hesychast for prayer which in John is twofold: "corporeal prayer" and "prayer of the heart". The former is proper to those who need the help of bodily movement: stretching out the hands, uttering groans, beating the breast, etc. (15, 26; 900). The latter is spontaneous, because it is an effect of the reawakening of spiritual sensitivity, a gift of God to those who devote themselves to corporeal prayer. In John this takes the name "Jesus prayer" (Iesou euche), and is constituted in the invocation of solely Jesus' name, an invocation that is continuous like breathing: "May your remembrance of Jesus become one with your breathing, and you will then know the usefulness of hesychia", inner peace (27/2, 26; 1112). At the end the prayer becomes very simple: the word "Jesus" simply becomes one with the breath.

The last step of the ladder (30), suffused with "the sober inebriation of the spirit", is dedicated to the supreme "trinity of virtues": faith, hope and above all charity. John also speaks of charity as eros (human love), a symbol of the matrimonial union of the soul with God, and once again chooses the image of fire to express the fervour, light and purification of love for God. The power of human love can be reoriented to God, just as a cultivated olive may be grafted on to a wild olive tree (cf. Rm 11: 24) (cf. 15, 66; 893). John is convinced that an intense experience of this eros will help the soul to advance far more than the harsh struggle against the passions, because of its great power. Thus, in our journey, the positive aspect prevails. Yet charity is also seen in close relation to hope: "Hope is the power that drives love. Thanks to hope, we can look forward to the reward of charity.... Hope is the doorway of love.... The absence of hope destroys charity: our efforts are bound to it, our labours are sustained by it, and through it we are enveloped by the mercy of God" (30, 16; 1157). The conclusion of the Ladder contains the synthesis of the work in words that the author has God himself utter: "May this ladder teach you the spiritual disposition of the virtues. I am at the summit of the ladder, and as my great initiate (St Paul) said: "So faith, hope, love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love' (1 Cor 13: 13)!" (30, 18; 1160).

At this point, a last question must be asked: can the Ladder, a work written by a hermit monk who lived 1,400 years ago, say something to us today? Can the existential journey of a man who lived his entire life on Mount Sinai in such a distant time be relevant to us? At first glance it would seem that the answer must be "no", because John Climacus is too remote from us. But if we look a little closer, we see that the monastic life is only a great symbol of baptismal life, of Christian life. It shows, so to speak, in capital letters what we write day after day in small letters. It is a prophetic symbol that reveals what the life of the baptized person is, in communion with Christ, with his death and Resurrection. The fact that the top of the "ladder", the final steps, are at the same time the fundamental, initial and most simple virtues is particularly important to me: faith, hope and charity. These are not virtues accessible only to moral heroes; rather they are gifts of God to all the baptized: in them our life develops too. The beginning is also the end, the starting point is also the point of arrival: the whole journey towards an ever more radical realization of faith, hope and charity. The whole ascent is present in these virtues. Faith is fundamental, because this virtue implies that I renounce my arrogance, my thought, and the claim to judge by myself without entrusting myself to others. This journey towards humility, towards spiritual childhood is essential. It is necessary to overcome the attitude of arrogance that makes one say: I know better, in this my time of the 21st century, than what people could have known then. Instead, it is necessary to entrust oneself to Sacred Scripture alone, to the word of the Lord, to look out on the horizon of faith with humility, in order to enter into the enormous immensity of the universal world, of the world of God. In this way our soul grows, the sensitivity of the heart grows toward God. Rightly, John Climacus says that hope alone renders us capable of living charity; hope in which we transcend the things of every day, we do not expect success in our earthly days but we look forward to the revelation of God himself at last. It is only in this extension of our soul, in this self-transcendence, that our life becomes great and that we are able to bear the effort and disappointments of every day, that we can be kind to others without expecting any reward. Only if there is God, this great hope to which I aspire, can I take the small steps of my life and thus learn charity. The mystery of prayer, of the personal knowledge of Jesus, is concealed in charity: simple prayer that strives only to move the divine Teacher's heart. So it is that one's own heart opens, one learns from him his own kindness, his love. Let us therefore use this "ascent" of faith, hope and charity. In this way we will arrive at true life.

Vatican, Feb. 11, 2009

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raytm · 7 months ago

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its morbin time 💥💥💥💥💐💐💐💐💐🌹🌹🌹🧎🧎🧎🚶🚶🚶🚶🚶🚶🚶💀💀💀💀💀⚰️⚰️⛪️🕊️

the dictum that love conquers all was mendacity, becoming a casualty of its ludicrous narrative - that had never been in the cards for him. it had been brazen of him to think himself immune, that it would not wedge its way beneath his metal hide and contaminate him with its saccharine malady. without his humanity it had become easy to consider himself impervious, yet here he was, the taunt musculature of his arm aims with fatal precision, but he hesitates in pulling the trigger. it was fatuous to believe salvation awaited them, that amongst the impassive, coruscating stars they would find even a slither of mercy. the thick carapace hide is impregnable from a far distance, its swivelling, serpentine eyes nictitate with a second, gossamer film, as they search for him. this bounty was not allocated to him with a vow of copious wealth, it was personal, to some extent, it was quite likely it was his fault things had divagated this far. he hadn’t sworn fealty to the antiquated ways of that primitive aeon and like all omnipotent, ethereal entities, she was pissy. this punitive intervention included the rupturing of flesh, scales jutting from once soft skin, tenuous bone splintering and fusing together in a grotesque image of divine retribution. the eldritch monstrosity’s maw gaped, a yawning cavern of rows and rows of serrated teeth but it was not that which struck fear to the marrow of his bones, it was the soul which was tethered to its mutilated husk. the path the knight walked was ordained by the aeon’s doctrine, a linear passage of enlightenment for others and immense solitude for its acolytes. boothill had always favored the beat of his own two boots, extricated from concerning himself with other’s, they were fickle, often insufferable. perhaps this was his penitence, that he would satiate that god and her volatile fancies by putting her apostle down like a rabid dog.

it was gaining on him, those angular legs ending in sharp, aquiline claws, were agile, even whilst scrabbling for purchase. boothill launches himself out from behind the crate just in time for it to be obliterated, wooden shrapnel launching in every direction, imbedding itself between the thick, lambent tubes that made up his nerves. he’s fortunate he doesn’t feel pain, less fortunate in now being certain that unless he thrusted his arm into the creature’s mouth and unloaded round after round directly into its cerebrum he was quite literally fucked. they size each other up, boothill’s arm rests by his thigh, where he has another gun loaded, each finger instinctively flexes, recognising how it would feel clasped in his hand. those incensed eyes, disarmingly emerald still, splinter off into slithers of him mirrored in its gaze, compelling him to stillness. there would be but one opportunity, if he missed, that was the end. if death existed still for something as incorporeal as him, then it waited resignedly at the other side of that solitary, stagnant moment. time surges up to meet him, it were as if all that suspended momentum was disgorged at once. the beast slams into him with all of its weight, jaws carving into his core, severing vital wires in a gnashing of teeth, simultaneously, he closes his finger on the trigger, firing four shots in rapid succession, puncturing the ridged flesh of its mouth over and over again. it seizes, its pupils withering in excruciating agony and then, just as suddenly, it goes limp.

boothill had thought about death fleetingly since he regained consciousness. without the burden of humanity, the penchant it had for aging, rotting, dying, he never once thought his consciousness would wane to a stuttering darkness clamped in the mouth of his beloved. ironic how things turned out, wasn’t it.

#anyway.#steeples hands.#this could have been way way way longer but i wanted to make ur suffering short :')#* ๋࣭•*⁀➷ 𝐵𝑂𝑂𝑇𝐻𝐼𝐿𝐿. › 𝐢𝐜.#boothill /

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orthodoxydaily · 5 months ago

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Saints&Reading: Tuesday, June 25, 2024

june 12_june 25

Third day of the Holy Trinity

THE MONK ARSENIUS OF KONEVSK (1447)

Saint Arsenius of Konevits was a native of Novgorod, a coppersmith by trade. The saint accepted tonsure at the Lisich monastery near Novgorod, where he spent eleven years. He went to Mount Athos in 1373, and there he spent three years, dwelling in prayer and making copper vessels for the brethren.

In the year 1393, Saint Arsenius returned to Russia and brought with him an icon of the Mother of God, which was later called the Konevits Icon. Saint Arsenius went with this icon to the island of Konevets on Lake Ladoga, where he spent five years in solitude.

In 1398, with the blessing of Archbishop John of Novgorod, Saint Arsenius laid the foundations of a cenobitic monastery dedicated to the Nativity of the Most Holy Theotokos. He visited Athos a second time, and asked the holy Fathers for their prayers and a blessing for his monastery.

In 1421, the lake flooded, destroying the monastery structures. This forced Saint Arsenius to relocate the monastery to a new site on the island. Saint Arsenius died in 1447 and was buried in the monastery church. Igumen Barlaam of Konevits wrote his life in the sixteenth century. The Life of Saint Arsenius was published in 1850 with the Service and Akathist in his honor.

THE MONK PETER OF ATHOS (734)

Saint Peter of Athos, a Greek by birth, served as a soldier in the imperial armies and he lived at Constantinople. In the year 667, during a war with the Syrians, Saint Peter was taken captive and locked up in a fortress in the city of Samara on the Euphrates River.

For a long time he languished in prison and he pondered over which of his sins had brought God’s chastisement upon him. Saint Peter remembered that once he had intended to leave the world and go to a monastery, but he had not done so. He began to observe a strict fast in the prison and to pray fervently, and he besought Saint Nicholas the Wonderworker to intercede before God for him.

Saint Nicholas appeared in a dream to Peter and advised him to call upon Saint Simeon the God-Receiver (Feb. 3) for help. Saint Nicholas appeared to him once more in a dream, encouraging the prisoner in patience and hope. The third time that he appeared it was not in a dream, but with Saint Simeon the God-Receiver. Saint Simeon touched his staff to the chains binding Saint Peter, and the chains melted away like wax. The doors of the prison opened, and Saint Peter was free.

Saint Simeon the God-Receiver became invisible, but Saint Nicholas conveyed Saint Peter to the borders of the Greek territory. Reminding him of his vow, Saint Nicholas became invisible. Saint Peter then journeyed to Rome to receive monastic tonsure at the tomb of the Apostle Peter. Even here Saint Nicholas did not leave him without his help. He appeared in a dream to the Pope of Rome and informed him of the circumstances of Saint Peter’s liberation from captivity, and he commanded the Pope to tonsure the former prisoner into monasticism.

On the following day, in the midst of a throng of the people who had gathered for divine services, the Pope loudly exclaimed, “Peter, you who are from the Greek lands, and whom Saint Nicholas has freed from prison in Samara, come here to me.” Saint Peter stood in front of the Pope, who tonsured him into monasticism at the tomb of the Apostle Peter. The Pope taught Saint Peter the rules of monastic life and kept the monk by him. Then with a blessing, he sent Saint Peter to where God had appointed him to journey.

Saint Peter boarded a ship sailing to the East. The shipowners, after going ashore, besought Saint Peter to come and pray at a certain house, where the owner and all the household lay sick. Saint Peter healed them through his prayer.

The Most Holy Theotokos appeared in a dream to Saint Peter and indicated the place where he should live til the very end of his days: Mount Athos. When the ship arrived at Athos, it then halted of its own accord. Saint Peter realized that this was the place he was meant to go, and so he went ashore. This was in the year 681. Peter then dwelt in the desolate places of the Holy Mountain, not seeing another person for fifty-three years. His clothing had become tattered, but his hair and beard had grown out and covered his body in place of clothes.

At first Saint Peter was repeatedly subjected to demonic assaults. Trying to force the saint to abandon his cave, the demons sometimes took on the form of armed soldiers, and at other times of fierce beasts and vipers that seemed ready to tear the hermit apart. Saint Peter overcame the demonic attacks through fervent prayer to God and His Holy Mother. Then the enemy resorted to trickery. Appearing under the guise of a lad sent to him from his native home, he besought the monk with tears to leave the wilderness and return to his own home. The saint wept, but without hesitation he answered, “Here have the Lord and the Most Holy Theotokos led me. I will not leave here without Her permission.” Hearing the Name of the Mother of God, the demon vanished.

After seven years the devil came to Saint Peter in the guise of a radiant angel and said that God was commanding him to go into the world for the enlightenment and salvation of people in need of his guidance. The experienced ascetic again replied that without the permission of the Mother of God he would not forsake the wilderness. The devil disappeared and did not bother to come near the saint anymore. The Mother of God appeared to Saint Peter in a dream with Saint Nicholas and told the brave hermit that after he had fasted for forty days, an angel would bring him heavenly manna. Saint Peter fasted, and on the fortieth day he fortified himself with the heavenly manna, receiving the strength for another forty-day fast.

Once, a hunter chasing after a stag saw the naked man, covered with hair and girded about the loins with leaves. He was afraid and was about to flee, but Saint Peter stopped him and told him of his life. The hunter asked to remain with him, but the saint sent him home. Saint Peter gave the hunter a year for self-examination and forbade him to tell anyone about meeting him.

A year later the hunter returned with his brother, who was afflicted with a demon, and several other companions. When they entered the Saint Peter’s cave, they saw that he had already reposed. The hunter, with bitter tears, told his companions of the life of Saint Peter. His brother, after merely touching the saint’s body, received healing. Saint Peter died in the year 734. His holy relics were on Athos at the monastery of Saint Clement. During the Iconoclast period the relics were hidden away, and in the year 969 they were transferred to the Thracian village of Photokami.

Saint Peter once saw the Mother of God in a vision, and she spoke of Her earthly domain, Mount Athos: “I have chosen this mountain... and have received it from My Son and God as an inheritance, for those who wish to forsake worldly cares and strife.... Exceedingly do I love this place. I will aid those who come to dwell here and who labor for God... and keep His commandments.... I will lighten their afflictions and labors, and shall be an invincible ally for the monks, invisibly guiding and guarding them....”

Generations of Orthodox monks can attest to the truth of these words. The Mother of God is regarded as the Abbess of the Holy Mountain, not just in name, but in actual fact. For this reason, Mt. Athos is known as the “Garden of the Theotokos.”

Source: Orthodox Church in America_OCA

ROMANS 1:1-7, 13-17

1 Paul, a bondservant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, separated to the gospel of God 2 which He promised before through His prophets in the Holy Scriptures, 3 concerning His Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who was born of the seed of David according to the flesh, 4 and declared to be the Son of God with power according to the Spirit of holiness, by the resurrection from the dead. 5 Through Him we have received grace and apostleship for obedience to the faith among all nations for His name, 6 among whom you also are the called of Jesus Christ; 7 To all who are in Rome, beloved of God, called to be saints: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

13 Now I do not want you to be unaware, brethren, that I often planned to come to you (but was hindered until now), that I might have some fruit among you also, just as among the other Gentiles. 14 I am a debtor both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to wise and to unwise. 15 So, as much as is in me, I am ready to preach the gospel to you who are in Rome also. 16 For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God to salvation for everyone who believes, for the Jew first and also for the Greek. 17 For in it the righteousness of God is revealed from faith to faith; as it is written, "The just shall live by faith."

MATTHEW 11:27-30

2 All things have been delivered to Me by My Father, and no one knows the Son except the Father. Nor does anyone know the Father except the Son, and the one to whom the Son wills to reveal Him. 28 Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30 For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

#orthodoxy #orthodoxchristianity #easternorthodoxchurch #originofchristianity #spirituality #holyscriptures #gospel #bible #wisdom #faith #saints

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fear-not-beloved · 8 months ago

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Holy Thursday is not only the day of the institution of the Most Holy Eucharist, whose splendour bathes all else and in some ways draws it to itself. To Holy Thursday also belongs the dark night of the Mount of Olives, to which Jesus goes with his disciples; the solitude and abandonment of Jesus, who in prayer goes forth to encounter the darkness of death; the betrayal of Judas, Jesus’ arrest and his denial by Peter; his indictment before the Sanhedrin and his being handed over to the Gentiles, to Pilate. Let us try at this hour to understand more deeply something of these events, for in them the mystery of our redemption takes place.

Jesus goes forth into the night. Night signifies lack of communication, a situation where people do not see one another. It is a symbol of incomprehension, of the obscuring of truth. It is the place where evil, which has to hide before the light, can grow. Jesus himself is light and truth, communication, purity and goodness. He enters into the night. Night is ultimately a symbol of death, the definitive loss of fellowship and life. Jesus enters into the night in order to overcome it and to inaugurate the new Day of God in the history of humanity.

On the way, he sang with his Apostles Israel’s psalms of liberation and redemption, which evoked the first Passover in Egypt, the night of liberation. Now he goes, as was his custom, to pray in solitude and, as Son, to speak with the Father. But, unusually, he wants to have close to him three disciples: Peter, James and John. These are the three who had experienced his Transfiguration – when the light of God’s glory shone through his human figure – and had seen him standing between the Law and the Prophets, between Moses and Elijah. They had heard him speaking to both of them about his “exodus” to Jerusalem. Jesus’ exodus to Jerusalem – how mysterious are these words! Israel’s exodus from Egypt had been the event of escape and liberation for God’s People. What would be the form taken by the exodus of Jesus, in whom the meaning of that historic drama was to be definitively fulfilled? The disciples were now witnessing the first stage of that exodus – the utter abasement which was nonetheless the essential step of the going forth to the freedom and new life which was the goal of the exodus. The disciples, whom Jesus wanted to have close to him as an element of human support in that hour of extreme distress, quickly fell asleep. Yet they heard some fragments of the words of Jesus’ prayer and they witnessed his way of acting. Both were deeply impressed on their hearts and they transmitted them to Christians for all time. Jesus called God “Abba”. The word means – as they add – “Father”. Yet it is not the usual form of the word “father”, but rather a children’s word – an affectionate name which one would not have dared to use in speaking to God. It is the language of the one who is truly a “child”, the Son of the Father, the one who is conscious of being in communion with God, in deepest union with him.

If we ask ourselves what is most characteristic of the figure of Jesus in the Gospels, we have to say that it is his relationship with God. He is constantly in communion with God. Being with the Father is the core of his personality. Through Christ we know God truly. “No one has ever seen God”, says Saint John. The one “who is close to the Father’s heart … has made him known” (1:18). Now we know God as he truly is. He is Father, and this in an absolute goodness to which we can entrust ourselves. The evangelist Mark, who has preserved the memories of Saint Peter, relates that Jesus, after calling God “Abba”, went on to say: “Everything is possible for you. You can do all things” (cf. 14:36). The one who is Goodness is at the same time Power; he is all-powerful. Power is goodness and goodness is power. We can learn this trust from Jesus’ prayer on the Mount of Olives.

Before reflecting on the content of Jesus’ petition, we must still consider what the evangelists tell us about Jesus’ posture during his prayer. Matthew and Mark tell us that he “threw himself on the ground” (Mt 26:39; cf. Mk 14:35), thus assuming a posture of complete submission, as is preserved in the Roman liturgy of Good Friday. Luke, on the other hand, tells us that Jesus prayed on his knees. In the Acts of the Apostles, he speaks of the saints praying on their knees: Stephen during his stoning, Peter at the raising of someone who had died, Paul on his way to martyrdom. In this way Luke has sketched a brief history of prayer on one’s knees in the early Church. Christians, in kneeling, enter into Jesus’ prayer on the Mount of Olives. When menaced by the power of evil, as they kneel, they are upright before the world, while as sons and daughters, they kneel before the Father. Before God’s glory we Christians kneel and acknowledge his divinity; by this posture we also express our confidence that he will prevail.

Jesus struggles with the Father. He struggles with himself. And he struggles for us. He experiences anguish before the power of death. First and foremost this is simply the dread natural to every living creature in the face of death. In Jesus, however, something more is at work. His gaze peers deeper, into the nights of evil. He sees the filthy flood of all the lies and all the disgrace which he will encounter in that chalice from which he must drink. His is the dread of one who is completely pure and holy as he sees the entire flood of this world’s evil bursting upon him. He also sees me, and he prays for me. This moment of Jesus’ mortal anguish is thus an essential part of the process of redemption. Consequently, the Letter to the Hebrews describes the struggle of Jesus on the Mount of Olives as a priestly event. In this prayer of Jesus, pervaded by mortal anguish, the Lord performs the office of a priest: he takes upon himself the sins of humanity, of us all, and he brings us before the Father.

Lastly, we must also pay attention to the content of Jesus’ prayer on the Mount of Olives. Jesus says: “Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet not what I want, but what you want” (Mk 14:36). The natural will of the man Jesus recoils in fear before the enormity of the matter. He asks to be spared. Yet as the Son, he places this human will into the Father’s will: not I, but you. In this way he transformed the stance of Adam, the primordial human sin, and thus heals humanity. The stance of Adam was: not what you, O God, have desired; rather, I myself want to be a god. This pride is the real essence of sin. We think we are free and truly ourselves only if we follow our own will. God appears as the opposite of our freedom. We need to be free of him – so we think – and only then will we be free. This is the fundamental rebellion present throughout history and the fundamental lie which perverts life. When human beings set themselves against God, they set themselves against the truth of their own being and consequently do not become free, but alienated from themselves. We are free only if we stand in the truth of our being, if we are united to God. Then we become truly “like God” – not by resisting God, eliminating him, or denying him. In his anguished prayer on the Mount of Olives, Jesus resolved the false opposition between obedience and freedom, and opened the path to freedom. Let us ask the Lord to draw us into this “yes” to God’s will, and in this way to make us truly free. Amen.

Benedict xvi

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dprcailimait · 2 years ago

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Iridescence (WIP)

I've been getting my ramblings together and as thus far. I have a solid idea of where to take my ideas.

TL;DR

Currently outlining a Berserk retelling spanning from the Golden Age Arc to Fantasia, focused on an AU where Griffith forcefully turns Guts into an immortal (Apostle).

For a frame of reference, I read the first chapter of the golden age arc, and this quote just summarizes perfectly what I want out of a Griffith/Guts post-Eclipse retelling. When I say retelling, I really mean a twisted, dark romance. They're fucked up courtship, where with every exchange, they mend a little piece of themselves they never dared bring up to anyone else.

Exploring Griffith’s psyche fascinates him, I’m debating where exactly in the Golden Age arc to start because I want to drill in the dread of loneliness into him. It’s gonna be subtle at first, but nonetheless there. I think it’d add on to the angst sandwich I want to make with this fic. Not just that but making Guts and Griffith blossoming lovers, not outwardly either to themselves or others but a blurred mix of the two.

I fleshed out my idea a little more clearly. Some plot points are very much lost in the word soup that is this fic lol.

Main Idea:

The turning point, where Griffith will turn Guts into an immortal, will be after they have fought.

Guts' primary motivation— his dream, and life’s purpose is Casca. He does not lose her, but he's trying to be a man worthy of Casca’s devotion. He needs to control his urge to chase Griffith, to not give into temptation but his inner demon coaxes his psyche into passivity— making him fall prey into thoughts, nightmare. Estranged lucid fantasies of his former commander.

It whispers of possibilities that ring bloody and sour to his sanity, but with the rusted aches comes an emotion rivaling even the sweetest kiss from his lover. And that terrifies him beyond all reason.

Guts dies while fighting Griffith, an entity he should know better than to challenge.

He knows defeat but the bitterness of an impending death comfortably sits on his tongue, soothing a pavlovian response in him to tear and thrash and glaze, endlessly enamored as a quick, seamless slash breaks his skin, muscles and bone.

The horrid, white-sear leaves him breathless— without the strength nor mind to scream or is it the sight before him. One of Griffith, his face ghosted with a smile he’s only known in far-off memories of a time long before his maturity. He’d be a fool to be scared of death but he’d be a liar to say it doesn’t cause him fright, losing Casca and the potential of being with her scares him,

But for now, for this singular moment of agony, he smiles. His mind wonders, fruitful in its fantasies and nightmares and for once, aimless in his struggle, he finds peace— as if being nurtured by the embrace of a mother, he’s satisfied. Seeing a glimpse, a crack in Griffith’s armor, lulls him.

While clashing, the past's excitement rekindles inside Griffith. His heart beats at his ears, singing of a long tattered wound. A scar left known in a far-off time beyond his conscious psyche, a deep seeded loneliness remembrance only pray tell him. The very one that clung to the man stumbling before him.

Then and there in the brief moment of their swords play, Griffith's blood runs cold as he watches the man he once grew to love and hate smile at him. His composure collapses with Guts’ dying breath, and, for the first time, in his immortal life, he processes the depths of his solitude.

In that moment, Griffith ruins his former friend once more by giving him the very thing he swore to take, his life.

#Iridescenceberserk #griffguts #berserk #fic wip #I missed this feature on tumblr lol

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santmat · 8 months ago

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From Darkness to Light Through Meditation - Spiritual Awakening Radio Podcast

On the web you'll find a lot of talk about spirituality, yet so few rise above body-consciousness and get to experience that Sacred Inner Space for themselves. Reliable information is quite rare. There's so much discussion about "gnostics", "mystics", "sages of philosophy", "masters of the east", or "ancient scriptures" but almost nothing is ever said about the spiritual practices of these gnostics and mystics of the ages. Only with a Living Mystic Path, a Living School of Spirituality is one close to the Inner Circle of Masters and Students where this sort of Divine Path can be made knowable to the genuine spiritual seeker by way of Initiation into the Mysteries.

Today, an introduction to meditation for beginners that also provides a glimpse into the world of advanced practice, inner Light and Sound, the path of the masters, East and West, in the various schools of spirituality. "Darkness is no longer dark to me." "There is a Sound emanating from beyond the silence." (Spiritual masters allude to transcendental heavenly senses, eyes and ears of the soul able to see and hear spiritually.)

From Darkness to Light Through Meditation - Spiritual Awakening Radio Podcast @ YouTube:

https://youtu.be/eZ2ACxfdWEM

YouTube Channel: Spiritual Awakening Radio Podcasts - Sant Mat Satsang Podcasts:

https://www.youtube.com/@SpiritualAwakeningRadio

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@ the Podcast Website With Buttons That Go To the Popular Podcast APPS - Wherever You Follow Podcasts:

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@ Spotify Podcasts:

https://open.spotify.com/episode/1gofhMQQRd0W4Y0xc6NUWF

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& @ Wherever You Subscribe and Follow Podcasts - At Your Favorite Podcast APP Just Do a Search for "Spiritual Awakening Radio" - (YouTube, YouTube Music, Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcasts, Amazon, Audible, PodBean, Podcast APP, Overcast, Jio Saavan, iHeart Radio, CastBox, etc...):

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“It is impossible to confine love to the temporal and transient levels of life, and it is impossible to confine the grandeur and majesty of God to the dimensions of the mind... I had no fixed starting place in time and space, for I dwelt in a multi-verse that was co-extensive with all the ages. But my inner world was still limited by the boundaries of creation; I needed the guidance of a spiritual adept, within the physical world itself, to give me new birth into the freedom of eternity.” (George Arnsby Jones, disciple of Master Kirpal, author of, An Odyssey of Inner Space)

"Light is always within us. When the mind is settled, we see that Light." (Sant Kirpal Singh, unpublished book on Sant Mat meditation)

References, Subjects, and Sources Include: passages about solitude, silence, and meditation from: 1) Thomas Merton, 2) Caroline Stephen, The Lord of Silence (a Quaker publication), 3) Thomas Kelly; 4) Saint Thomas - the Apostle to India; 5) The Gnostic Nag Hammadi Library: Apocryphon of John, Book of Allogenes, Trimorphic Protennoia, and Thunder: Perfect Mind; 6) The Book of Enoch, 7) Hebrew Bible: Psalm 46: 10 ("Be still and know that I Am God."); 8) The Acts of Peter; 9) The Jesus Sutras of China; 10) Tao Te Ching of Lao Tzu; 11) Swamiji Maharaj from the Sar Bachan Radhasoami Poetry - also shared here: "Meditate: Sit still and you will reach your destination. Walk fast and you will go nowhere." 12) Introductory Meditation Instructions, a Convenient Method from Huzur Baba Sawan Singh; 13) Introductory Meditation Instructions from Sant Kirpal Singh (finding Jyoti or Inner Light at the Third Eye); 14) Guidance about Meditation Practice from: A Spiritual Seekers Guide (on how Love/Bhakti is the Key); 15) Maharshi Mehi Paramhans and Shri Bhagirath Baba (Seven Stages of Meditation described in, The Philosophy of Liberation, on correct posture, Brahma-Muhurta/The Hour of Elixir, Thrice-Daily Meditation, Meditation and the Dreamstate); 16) Couplets of Swami Sant Sevi Ji Maharaj; 17) Swami Achyutanand Baba (Yoga of Inner Light & Sound); and, 18) Huzur Maharaj Rai Saligram: The Gospel of Sant Mat in a Nutshell: The River of Sound That Connects Souls to the Ocean of Love (God). (Prem Patra Radhaswami)

In Divine Love (Bhakti), Light, and Sound, At the Feet of the Masters, Radhasoami,

James Bean

Spiritual Awakening Radio Podcasts

Sant Mat Satsang Podcasts

Sant Mat Radhasoami

A Satsang Without Walls

Spiritual Awakening Radio Website:

https://www.SpiritualAwakeningRadio.com

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lesdeuxmuses · 2 months ago

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Apostle Of Solitude - Last Sunrise (Eyes Like Snow, 2010)

youtube

#apostle of solitude #eyes like snow #2010 #Youtube

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belamusica · 1 year ago

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Paris Paloma's Labour: Lyric Analysis

⚠️Trigger Warning: Mentions of domestic abuse ⚠️

We will dissect 'Labour,' a song that has stirred a visceral reaction in women worldwide as it first rose to popularity on the social media platform TikTok. 'Labour' was released in March of 2023 with over thirty million streams on Spotify and reached the top ten Billboard's Alternative Songs chart in April.

So the question is: Why did it make such a significant impact?

'Labour' is meant to be a tribute and a cry for change for our current generation. This brings attention to our mothers and sisters and the work that they have done that has been undervalued and forgotten throughout our history. Its ability to speak to many women with various backgrounds and cultural differences is fantastic. However, the one thing that links us all is the experience of the moment we become aware of the boxes we are put in society. This song references emotional, mental, and physical labor that women have tragically performed throughout history to maintain their relationships and marriages. The labor that eventually gets passed down to their kids is generational trauma.

"Why are you hanging on so tight

To the rope that I'm hanging from?

Off this island, this was an escape plan (this was an escape plan)

Carefully timed it, so let me go

And dive into the waves below"

The language of the first verse is intended to create a narrative around this couple that lives on an island, a metaphor for their relationship. These types of abusive relationships can be very isolating and lonely, and Figure 1 captures the solitude of the island by illustrating the vastness of the ocean surrounding it. We can see a rope attached to a boat, which is safe to say her escape from the island. Another way of looking at this is that the rope is a symbolic thread that keeps the relationship from splitting or tearing apart. Women in abusive relationships tend to think about the trade-offs that come with leaving their partners; otherwise, they could put themselves and their loved ones at risk. The angry waves pictured can be viewed as the lengths she is willing to take to break away from her current situation, and it shows that ending a relationship is often the most challenging or dangerous part.

"Who tends the orchards? Who fixes up the gables?

Emotional torture from the head of your high table

Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring?

And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting.

And I'm getting fucking tired."

Between the late fifth to the late fifteenth centuries, the Middle Ages established roles and responsibilities that women in medieval societies played to maintain a household—according to an article written by Alixe Bovey, a researcher whose focus was on illuminating medieval manuscripts and pictorial narratives, stated that biblical texts often dictated the place of women in society. The writings of the apostle Paul emphasized men's authority over women and instructed them to remain silent. Peasant women not only carried out domestic responsibilities such as caring for children, preparing food, and tending livestock, but they also joined their husbands in the field to bring in crops. Similarly, women in towns had similar responsibilities and assisted their husbands' work in various trades and crafts, as well as running shops and inns.

Fixing gables and fetching water have generally been considered men's work. This pressure of not only maintaining a household but taking on additional laborious work can feel pressuring and exhausting, especially when one's work has been dismissed and underappreciated. This patriarchal traditional view can feel like you are being looked down upon, which can be felt in the second line of the pre-chorus.

"The capillaries in my eyes are bursting.

If our love died, would that be the worst thing?

For somebody I thought was my saviour

You sure make me do a whole lot of labour."

The capillaries could be referencing two different reasons: her eyes could be bloodshot from overworking and intense labour and strain, but it could also indicate a level of strangulation. Burst capillaries, often called subconjunctival hemorrhage, can occur for various reasons, including injury and suffocation. We can interpret the first line by literal strangulations or, more figuratively, the suffocation that women endure under patriarchy. The second line indicates that she finds no joy in her life due to this relationship, and if this relationship were to end, would it indeed be a problem?

From a traditional standpoint, women are often told men are protectors or providers in relationships. Growing up with fairy tales, it is always a dashing prince coming to the rescue and saving the princess. This notion was taught at such an early age for young girls to envision their future partner as the prince charming, their savior. She begins to question how this prince charming, who is meant to be her saviour, is the cause of so much of her misery when she was promised as a young girl that a man was meant to protect and provide. She begins to reflect on how the dynamic is so quick to change to her holding everything in the relationship together.

"The calloused skin on my hands is cracking.

If our love ends, would that be a bad thing?

And the silence haunts our bed chamber.

You make me do too much labour."

The callouses on her hands are due to the excessive amount of labour her husband has forced her to do for him. The cracking of her skin can also be a metaphor for the excessive pressure and expectations she is placed under, which is causing her to break.

In line three, I interpret the silence that haunts their bed chambers as the uncomfortable disconnect and lack of love between them. When making love, it is cold and empty, with no gentle emotions being echoed between the two. In this line, it is safe to assume that she is passively submitting to their act of intimacy, feeling no pleasure and numbness when this is typically the moment to be felt and enjoyed by both partners.

"Apologies from my tongue, and never yours

Busy lapping from flowing cup and stabbing with your fork."

In society, girls were brought up to be obedient and quiet. They are often conditioned at a young age to be more attuned and responsible for their behavior and how it affects others around them. It is common for women to be hyper-aware of their actions and to be mindful of their language when speaking to others, which results in constant apologies. The first line could indicate that she is made to feel as though she is the one to blame for his shortcomings.

"I know you're a smart man (I know you're a smart man), and weaponise

The false incompetence, its dominance under a guise."

This was beautifully written, and I applaud Paloma for bringing up the issue that many women face today, which is weaponized incompetence. Weaponized incompetence is a type of behavior where an individual feigns helplessness to avoid performing tasks or responsibilities which results in shifting that labor to their partner instead. This can create an imbalance in the relationship where an individual overworks, and the other underworks. Some examples of weaponized incompetence can occur when you ask your partner to wash the dishes and have them put it off until you eventually do it yourself. Another example would be asking them to dust the house, but they do not do a thorough job, leaving some surfaces dusty. It is incredibly easy to fall victim to this form of manipulation in the form of flattery, "I'm really not good at that. You do it so much better," or "Remember how bad it was the last time I tried doing it?" Over time, weaponized incompetence can erode relationships and leave individuals feeling resentment. According to research done in the past two years, gender inequality reigns true to this day, with women bearing a larger share of household chores, childcare duties, and professional responsibilities.

"If we had a daughter, I'd watch and could not save her

The emotional torture, from the head of your high table

She'd do what you taught her, she'd meet the same cruel fate

So now I've gotta run, so I can undo this mistake

At least I've gotta try."

This is when the song begins to speed up, and you can note how soft and gentle the song started and how it gradually gets louder, correlating with her anger that has been slowly building up.

Research indicates that 1.3 to 5.3 million women in the United States experience domestic abuse. She begins to worry that if she does not try to undo her mistakes and work through her trauma, the trauma is then forcefully passed on to her daughter, and the cycle continues. The possibility of her daughter replicating her mother's habits and being conditioned to serve her fruitless labor to her partner terrifies her. Historically, children of abusive parents are more likely to enter abusive relationships, according to research compiled in 2005. Because love was introduced to children in an abusive way, they begin to perceive abuse as familiar and gravitate to those who share similarities with their parents. Children who experience domestic violence are at a greater risk of repeating the same cycles as they are older by either entering abusive relationships or becoming abusers themselves.

"All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid

Nymph then a virgin, nurse then a servant

Just an appendage, live to attend him

So that he never lifts a finger

24-7, baby machine

So he can live out his picket fence dreams

It's not an act of love if you make her

You make me do too much labour."

Finally, we reach the lyrics "Labour" which captivated many women's attention. The first line emphasizes the copious roles that women play for their partners to keep them satisfied and happy. I view the word "mother" in this line to indicate the act that she is expected to take on to provide and nurture their partner and play the role of a therapist to listen to his worries while pushing aside her troubles and issues to fix his alone. Not only is she playing mother and therapist for her partner, but she is also expected to clean and cook to maintain a picture-perfect household. According to the Handbook of Sociological Science: Contributions to Rigorous Sociology, published in 2022, studies showed that women, on average, spend a considerable amount of time on unpaid and domestic labor and experience a lower quality and quantity of leisure time than men. In ancient Greek folklore, nymphs are inferior female divinities that would take the form of young women and can reflect the moods of nature. However, they are also known for being sexually rapacious and taking on promiscuous roles in Greek and Roman mythology. The term' nymphomania' (nymphomania – (noun) uncontrollable or excessive sexual desire in a woman) derives from 'nymph,' which explains why Paloma specifically drew the comparison between a man seeking qualities of nymphs while simultaneously wanting to be with a virgin. Historically, men have often stated that they would prefer to be with a woman who is both sexually competent while being "pure" and "untainted.". In a patriarchal society, women are given unrealistic expectations that contradict two behaviors that are impossible to exist at the same time. Reading through a Genius annotation contributor, they stated, "In traditional gender roles, women are expected to be sexually desirable and giving, but also shamed for experiencing desire or knowing about sex."

"Nurse, then a servant" indicates her work and efforts being taken advantage of. Stereotypically, nurses are generally supportive and helpful individuals who will nurture and care you back to health, unlike being someone's servant, where the individual's purpose is to serve others and can be used by them. Nurses and servants are descriptively the same. The difference is that nurses are commonly respected and appreciated, whereas servants are abused and overlooked for their services.

In the third line, "appendage" was mentioned, followed by "live to attend him." Biologically, appendages are an external body part usually less functionally crucial than an organism's main body, such as a limb or an analogous part. Metaphorically, appendages exist as a minor and less important part of something more significant. The word 'appendage' illustrates the position that women are placed in a patriarchal society where women are not simply individuals but an extension or an addition to their male counterparts. It is a clear indication of the unequal power distribution that she is meant to live to attend to him, and it is often dehumanizing. Studies show that objectified women are viewed as less than human and are viewed as less deserving of moral treatment by others. This line was simple and straightforward but the overall message was impactful and I am sure it moved many women and shined light on something they have related to for so long.

Recent evidence published in the European Journal of Social Psychology found that participants processed images of men and women differently in a series of experiments. In the study, participants were randomly presented with images of fully clothed men and women of average looks. When presented with images of men, participants relied more on "global" cognitive processing, recognizing the man as a whole, and were not reduced to their sexual body parts by perceivers. Global processing refers to processing information in a more general and big-picture way. Meanwhile, when presented with images of women, participants relied on "local" cognitive processing and recognizing isolated body parts rather than the whole. "Local processing underlies the way we think about objects: houses, cars and so on. But global processing should prevent us from that when it comes to people," Gervais said. "We don't break people down to their parts – except when it comes to women, which is really striking. Women were perceived in the same ways that objects are viewed." My take on being a "baby machine" is the conception that her body is not viewed as something to love and cherish, but it is only built to reproduce and carry offspring. The detail of adding 24/7 is an implication that her body is used to only serving her partner at all hours of the day on his terms and being subjected to objectification and sexualization.

"It's not an act of love if you make her." Oftentimes, people's hidden desires and agendas are hidden behind proclamations of love, a common form of manipulation. Women frequently feel the obligations and societal expectations placed upon them, varying from cooking, cleaning, nurturing, and even childbearing. "Making love" or the "act of lovemaking" are typically used to refer to sex. This line heavily implies themes of sexual assault and calls out the partner that if these acts are being forced on her, it is not coming from a place of love.

Fruits such as pomegranates were often symbolized in ancient religions and civilizations and took on significant meanings. Pomegranates have many different symbolic meanings depending on each religion, but they are almost always tied to femininity and fertility. While watching the music video, Paloma aggressively consumes a pomegranate with rage as juices spill from her mouth and grinning wildly, the image symbolizing blood spilling from her gratified sneer. The act of eating this symbolic fruit with ties to femininity could represent her rejection of the patriarchy and her fate that is tied to it.

The verse repeats itself, and her vice is lifted with background vocals as it gets louder and louder. Listening closely, you can hear the voices of young girls of various ages singing along and adding to her voice. This was the exact moment that captured everyone's attention and stunned women when they first heard this song; it represented the next generation of women whose fate is similar to hers, being raised with the expectation of serving and caring for a male figure in their lives.

Paris Paloma is a UK-based singer I discovered on Spotify. Specifically, I stumbled across 'Notre Dame,' a melancholic and haunting song that had me listening to it for days. Paloma has the incredible power of creating music that can evoke primal feminine rage and a sense of divine femininity that has touched many people. It is captivating to see an artist transfer strong feelings of grief, love, death, and loneliness and mold these intricate emotions into music. Music in which her songwriting can be read and felt like poetry. It is breathtaking to witness the power an artist can hold to the masses and how it can connect us. Paloma phenomenally enraptured the feminine rage that we women have silently been brewing for centuries. "Labour" brings attention to women's history and sheds light on modern-day issues that many women resonate with. "I think I want them to feel heard or held, and whether they're listening to something like 'Labour' and it's something so angry, I want them to feel like their anger is valid. If it's something else, I want them to feel comforted; if it makes them cry, I want them to feel held while they do that. I hope that my music can serve as a vehicle for a protective sphere in which to feel any emotions that need to be felt." Paloma said in an interview with NME.

It makes us feel seen and understood.

"Women are just doing more and more, and men are not doing any more than they've ever done," Paloma told The Big Issue. "There's still expectation for women to have this very traditional archaic role as a caregiver and a servant and a wife and a mother and a homemaker, but women have had enough of existing to serve other people."

I started writing this lyrical analysis paper in August of 2023. It was not until recently that I was inspired to finish writing after watching Priscilla, a biographical drama film directed, written, and produced by Sofia Coppola. It follows the life of Priscilla Presley and her experience as the wife of the infamous "King of Rock and Roll," Elvis Presley. Watching this movie as a third party and viewing Priscilla's life unfold the way it did was engaging but uncomfortable. It was uncomfortable because many women have lived through similar experiences, and seeing our naivety and mistreatment played out on the big screen was a massive awakening. I am glad more people are vocalizing these issues.

Thank you again to Paris Paloma for such a beautiful song, and I wish you the best of luck in all your future endeavors.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Citations

Sakuragi T, Tanaka R, Tsuji M, Tateishi S, Hino A, Ogami A, Nagata M, Matsuda S, Fujino Y; CORoNaWork Project. Gender differences in housework and childcare among Japanese workers during the COVID-19 pandemic. J Occup Health. 2022 Jan;64(1):e12339. doi: 10.1002/1348-9585.12339. PMID: 35781910; PMCID: PMC9262311.

Cerrato J, Cifre E. Gender Inequality in Household Chores and Work-Family Conflict. Front Psychol. 2018 Aug 3;9:1330. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2018.01330. PMID: 30123153; PMCID: PMC6086200.

Modi MN, Palmer S, Armstrong A. The role of Violence Against Women Act in addressing intimate partner violence: a public health issue. J Womens Health (Larchmt). 2014 Mar;23(3):253-9. doi: 10.1089/jwh.2013.4387. Epub 2013 Dec 3. PMID: 24299159; PMCID: PMC3952594.

Endendijk, J. J., van Baar, A. L., & Deković, M. (2020). He is a Stud, She is a Slut! A Meta-Analysis on the Continued Existence of Sexual Double Standards. Personality and Social Psychology Review, 24(2), 163-190.

https://doi.org/10.1177/1088868319891310https://books.google.com/books?hl=en&lr=&id=vsN0EAAAQBAJ&oi=fnd&pg=PA176&dq=gender+inequality+household+labor&ots=d0-5CUp0VA&sig=1Ndw-h-YxTi4B_K0XTO0ZtDacbs#v=onepage&q=gender%20inequality%20household%20labor&f=false

Gervais, Sarah & Vescio, Theresa & Förster, Jens & Maass, Anne & Suitner, Caterina. (2012). Seeing women as objects: The sexual body part recognition bias. European Journal of Social Psychology. 42. 10.1002/ejsp.1890.

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lawrenceop · 2 years ago

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HOMILY for the 4th Sat per annum (I)

Heb 13:15-17,20-21; Ps 22; Mark 6:30-34

Jesus today has advice for his apostles, to those who minister in the Lord’s vineyard by preaching and teaching the Gospel. As such, he is speaking to us priests first of all, but since a priest is first of all a Christian and a disciple like you, then what Jesus says to us, to his apostles, can also be applied to every one of us Christians gathered here today. So the Lord says to us after we have been engaged in work and ministry and the service of the Gospel: “You must come away to some lonely place all by yourselves and rest for a while”.

Many of us in the world today fear loneliness; we fear being alone, or having no one around us. But to be in a lonely place all by ourselves, as Jesus put it in the Gospel, is not to become isolated and without support and friendship. The Greek word for the lonely place is eremos, that is to say, a place that is uninhabited, where nobody else is present. So, it is a place of solitude, and Jesus calls us to be by ourselves so that we can truly be ourselves, taking off our masks and our ‘brave faces’ which can be the cause of so much anxiety and stress. All of us will know, I think, that in our dealings with other people, whether as priests, or as mums, or nurses, or teachers, or shop assistants, people come to us looking for help, advice, or sometimes to offload their grievances, or to ask questions. Not infrequently, I think, we have to think on our feet, and speak in our ‘professional’ capacity, even if we don’t really have the answers. And so we put on a persona, one that is projected onto us, or which is somehow expected of us; we put on a brave face and a facade for others to see as we go about our work.

Perhaps this is what the apostles had been doing, as they went out on their mission of preaching and exorcism and healing – after all, they hadn’t been trained for any of this, but they just went and did what they could, trusting in the Lord who had called them and sent them out, and hoping for the best. We know that when they returned they were often amazed and elated at the fact that God worked through them, frail and weak vessels that they were. As St Paul would say: “we have this treasure in earthern vessels” (2 Cor 4:7)

The Lord, full of mercy and compassion, knows our weaknesses, and that we often have to adopt a persona in carrying out our work. And what does he say, then? “You must come away to some lonely place all by yourselves and rest for a while.” Why? Because, in a place of solitude, where nobody else is present, we can be ourselves, we can let our guard down, we can relax. But we are never really alone. For God is present, God is with us. So Christ is calling us to follow his example, and to go off to be alone in prayer with God. Prayer, therefore, must be authentic: we can be ourselves, we can speak freely, openly, and honestly to God, and we must lower our barriers, our pretence, our facades so that we can allow God to look upon us, and to shine his grace and light on our face. Prayer, then, is coming away from the world and from work, in order to be with God, and indeed, to rest in God. Thus St Augustine says, “our hearts are restless, O Lord, until they rest in you.”

Jesus, knowing what the human heart needs, and knowing what we long for, thus calls you and I to retreat in prayer, and to find rest in God. It is God who will restore us, and heal us, and strengthen us; He will love us after the knocks and bruises and negligence that hurt us in our daily interactions with others. And this is what we need: to rest in God.

The Gospel tells us that, however, Jesus is followed by a crowd who he teaches. But what about the apostles? Are they there too, hard at work again? The next verse which is not included in today’s passage suggests that they were not. So, Jesus himself ministered to the people, and he also ministered to his apostles by making sure they were able to steal away and be by themselves, and so find rest in God. Hence, I found the advice of Pope Francis, given on 2 February to the priests and seminarians and religious of the Democratic Republic of the Congo very timely, and he gives us some practical reminders on how we can follow Jesus’s command to go away to a lonely place.

The Holy Father said: “The Presentation of the Lord, which in the Christian East is called the “feast of the encounter”, reminds us that the priority in our life must be our encounter with the Lord, especially in personal prayer, because our relationship with him is the basis of everything we do. Never forget that the secret of everything is prayer, since the ministry and the apostolate are not primarily our own work and do not depend solely on human means. You are going to tell me: yes, true enough, but commitments, pastoral priorities, apostolic labours, fatigue and so on risk leaving us with little time and energy for prayer. That is why I would like to share a few pieces of advice. First of all, let us remain faithful to certain liturgical rhythms of prayer that mark the day, from the Mass to the breviary. The daily celebration of the Eucharist is the beating heart of priestly and religious life. The Liturgy of the Hours allows us to pray with the Church and with regularity: may we never neglect it! Then too, let us not neglect Confession. We always need to be forgiven, so as then to bestow mercy upon others.

Now, a second piece of advice. As we all know, we cannot limit ourselves to the rote recitation of prayers, but must set aside a time of intense prayer each day, to remain “heart-to-heart” with the Lord. It may be a prolonged time of adoration, in meditation on the word, or with the Holy Rosary, but a time of closeness to the One whom we love above all else. In addition, even in the midst of activity, we can always resort to the prayer of the heart, to short “aspirations” – which are a real treasure – words of praise, thanksgiving and invocation, to be repeated to the Lord wherever we find ourselves. Prayer takes the focus off ourselves, it opens us up to God, and it puts us back on our feet because it puts us in his hands.”

#Pope Francis #prayer #priests #religious life #authenticity

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neonreflections23 · 1 year ago

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~Blissful Death~

Chapter 4

Fandom- IdentityV

Paring- Naib Surbedar (Mercenary) x Oc

Au- Man in Red Essence, loosely following the essence trailer and skin descriptions

Major Content Warnings- Prominent Themes of Death

Word Count- 4310

Chapter Summary- Curiosity was eating at Ulysses the longer they stayed, the more questions needed to be answered. It was finally time to get it from the source of it all, even if there may be a hard decision in the end.

Notes/Comments- This entire chapter took me a while thanks to doing art project. I have yet to make chapter art, but this is more of a slow paced chapter. I’ll update this entire post with the art that may come soon.

Previous Chapter

Throughout the passing weeks, Ulysses passes by the seventh door within the residential sect only giving it passing glances. Things were relatively quiet within the fall days in the Crimson Castle, Naib has been taken away to take care of organizational matters, Violetta has been tending to the castle gardens, Kevin is always avoidant of him, Edgar was researching to help him yet adamant about Ulysses not joining, and Ann is usually in solitude with Apostle. Almost everyone is wrapped up in their own affairs and has left Ulysses to explore the place he now calls home.

The unicorn got up in the morning and haphazardly put on a simple robe for the day and set out. He had made no progress on helping Luca and it was telling that Edgar is reaching many dead ends while searching through many books and old manuscripts. Ulysses didn’t want to fret, there just has to be something they haven’t found and that door is the key.

He stood before the seventh door and eyes the aged boards on it. He took hold of one and pulled at it with all his might only to fall back once it broke off. He was quick to look around to see if anyone heard anything, but the halls were empty. He heaved a sigh of relief and went back to ripping off the boards until-

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Ulysses turned around to see Margaretha right behind him looking confused.

“Uh- It’s not what it looks like!”

“It is what it looks like silly! You are trying to see what’s inside that door! Who can blame you? Everyone is dying to know why it was boarded up for years. Even when I arrived here, I was told to stay away from it.”

“Really? You aren’t mad?”

“Not one bit, in fact, I am just as curious as you. Come on, open it!”

“W-wait! Just promise me you won’t tell Naib. I know you are his friend and all, so I just wanna avoid misunderstandings!.”

“I don’t need to tell him. There are things he doesn’t need to know since he is the one who likes to not tell us anything. I asked him about the door when I first came here and he kept skirting around it as if it was a bad memory. It seemed like he almost cried.”

“Then I shouldn’t let myself in this room.” Ulysses stopped now looking worried at the very thing he wanted to break into. “I came here trying to find answers as I feel like nothing I ask will give me the truth. I just feel at a loss here.”

“I hear ya. But I’ll be sure to board this room up once we finish searching inside. You have my word.”

With hesitation, the duo opened the door to reveal a dusty room. Everything seemed like a cast-off memory with cobwebs and old toys on the floor, the entire place was an apartment as it had two bedrooms and a small living area. The room on the right as they went inside was a kid’s room filled with dolls and playthings. The bed wasn’t touched in ages. It seemed like whoever it was never expected to come back to this place. The room on the left was more of an adult's room as it was just a simple setup, there were many starry paintings along the walls. Ulysses looked deeper inside and searched through the drawers of the dresser to find women's clothes. He went on to look into the nightstand and pulled out a dusty frame, he swiped away at the glass to reveal a painting of a lovely woman with flowing pink hair and a bright smile as she held a baby in a swaddle, what stuck out most is her horn on her head.

He almost threw the frame in shock, but he just stood there looking dumb at the frame until Margaretha came to see what he found.

“Wow, she looks just like you- Oh. Is that..?”

“My mother. What is her picture doing here?”

“Maybe she was a resident here? But this has to be before the Lord took up the throne, right? Did she know his father?”

“I don’t know, but this all isn’t adding up and that’s what I hate the most about it. First Naib’s unconditional kindness, the banquet, and now this. What else is he hiding?”

Margie inspected the framed painting and pointed out a signature on it.

“Look! The painting was made by Edgar’s father. He used to be a frequent member of this castle until he and Naib had a falling out. Supposedly it was over Naib requesting an impossible painting some years back, though Edgar did come here when he was sixteen to pick up his father’s work. I remember Naib telling me all about it one night when he requested my presence.”

“Surprised he told you something so personal.”

“What can I say? I just am a good listener. I mean I never expected to be friends with him as he is a reserved man. Most of his inner circle doesn’t have their own opinions, so I guess he just wants me there as a confidant. That kind of changed now that you are here of course. When he and I run errands, he always talks about you and how happy he is that you returned here.”

“But I never remembered being here. Not one bit. This is concerning me more that my mother and I have been here without my knowledge.”

“I don’t know, but I’ll go search around more and see what I can find.”

The two split to look for clues just to find more old antiques and knickknacks all of astronomy. His mother adored it and always took him out in the woods to stargaze with her when she was still alive. It swept him in emotions finding old star maps, diagrams, and drawings of constellations. There were some that even he drew in crude pencil drawings. Looking within his old room, he sifted through the nearby toy chest and found some papers of more childish art. One of a blue butterfly, another of a tree under a sunny sky, and one where it was him and another person he couldn’t make out, even by squinting, enjoying a picnic near the castle. His headaches badly trying to even recall who the person is in the drawing. It even made Margie concerned for him as she was quick to take the drawings and put them back.

“That was Naib wasn’t it.” Margie held his head in her hands as she massaged his temples for him. “That drawing looks just like him without all the butterflies. It seems you two were friends before from that picture.”

“My head hurts even trying to remember! How could I have known him before? I know Edgar said I possibly lost my memory and-“

“Edgar? You talked with him?”

Ulysses froze.

“Yes. He wanted to know if I knew him before cause supposedly Naib was reminiscing about us when I was asleep. I didn’t want to believe him, but he gave me hard proof…”

“Say no more. I won’t tell Naib but just know to be careful around Edgar. The little guy gets himself in a lot of trouble to prove his crazy theories of this place, though…I don’t think he is crazy anymore. Look. Let’s just go for now before someone-“

“Someone what?” The two jumps at the new voice to find it was Violetta looking at the two with a stern look and her tapping her “feet” in frustration.

“Ah- Violetta we were just-“

“Save it, Ulysses. You know I’m gonna have to tell the lord of what you two did.”

“But it was my idea! Margie was just keeping me in line!”

“Margaretha, is this true?”

“U- Yes! I was making sure that he didn’t break anything and looked around without causing trouble. He was beyond curious and he just wanted to see what was inside is all.”

Violetta was still not happy.

“Glad you kept him in line, but go now before I also report you too! He and Ulysses will have a chat.”

The dancer was quick to scurry out of the room soon followed by Violetta holding the unicorn tightly by the arm. The two made their way into a section of the castle he never explored, the winding corridors revealing an elaborate parlor room with a fireplace crackling. Kevin stood guard next to the armchair facing the hearth while the violinist played sweetly in the corner. Naib paid no attention to the newcomers as he kept his empty gaze on the fire before him. Kevin was quick to whisper in his ear, notifying him of their arrival.

“What do you want, Violetta? Are your binds loose again? I can fix them in a little while. After all, we can’t have your mobility aid wear down when winter is approaching quicker than usual.”

“No, in fact, it’s much more serious. Ulysses broke into the forbidden room.”

The man in red sharply turned in surprise, the unicorn couldn’t help but cower in his piercing gaze.

“Vio, please sit him near me. You, Kevin, and Antonio leave me immediately.”

“Yes, my Lord.” They all spoke in unison as Violetta sat Ulysses on the armchair next to her leader. The three of them left the room quickly and shut the doors behind them.

The silence was suffocating. The two of them just sat staring at the fire. It seemed like there were words to be said, yet they didn’t know how to convey it.

It was then Naib broke the silence.

“Did you know that I can’t feel the warmth of a fire or another person? My entire body is cold to the touch. Touch my gloved hand.” His voice sounded distant, but Ulysses hesitated before touching the deep red glove Naib presented. It was as he said. Colder than ice. “You might be asking why I have brought this on, ‘How could my body temperature relate to you breaking in your old room?’ It’s simple really. Nothing here was as it was years ago. I was once a normal person with warm skin. You were once a resident of this castle, surely you know that. I’m done pretending you don’t remember anything. You know that you and your mother were great friends with my parents before.”

“Naib-“

“Let me finish.

I cared a lot about you when we both were here in this castle. Things were normal. Life in this purgatory world was beautiful with you in it, even if we were just friends back then. I knew that there was something greater for both of us. You, a future astronomer and singer, I, ruler of this world just as my father before me did. I wanted you to stay with me forever and rule beside me. Even as I was young, I never knew how to even tell you that. Though that never came to be as I have inadvertently hurt you and made you leave me.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Naib, I got inside that room to find answers about why you-”

“Let me guess, the painter told you that we met before?” Naib scoffed. “You remember. You just don’t want to admit it. You don’t want to admit that I drove you away.”

“That isn’t true! I never knew you in my life! My home was in the Safe Side within the forest. I lived there with my mother ever since I was a baby.” Naib was quick to shoot a gaze at the unicorn that shut him up quickly.

“Even if you don’t remember, I will make sure you do! How can you not remember the accident?! The day I ruined your right eye?! The moments of us running around in this castle? Moments where we promised we would stick together until we die in this plane? How can you not remember?!” He was now choking up as he spoke. “I want you to remember! I lost you and you finally came back to me! That has to mean something! You knew to come back to me! I’m not buying that bullshit that you lost your memory!”

“Naib…I don’t remember anything about this place. I never knew we were friends. Have I meant that much to you?”

“You don’t know how lonely I was since I got this plague! You don’t know how much I missed you as I waited and waited. I always clung to that stupid hope you would come back somehow, and you did. You are home! We finally are together after twelve fucking years! You said that you’ll meet me back at our favorite tree! You said you’d come back and you did!” Naib now was letting the tears stream as the butterfly on his right eye flew off revealing a scarred eye, his hands now clenching the armchair in pent-up frustration. “I punished myself every single day for making you leave. I don’t dare look out of my eye as punishment for making yours useless. I can never forgive myself for doing it to you those years ago!”

“Naib! You don’t need to punish yourself! I’m here, aren’t I? I may not remember our years together, but I am not going to let you do this to yourself.” Ulysses sprung to his side and stopped short of drying his tears. He looked frantically for something to help, settling on a discarded paper on the floor. He carefully dried Naib’s tears making sure their skin doesn’t touch. This only made the other blubber out more in cries. He nudged the unicorn aside and dried his eyes on his own.

“I always was a pathetic friend. I harbored a deep love for you for so long and now I can’t even hold you in my arms knowing you’ll die.” The butterfly returned to him as it took its place back on his face. “I wish you remembered! I wish you knew how much I cared.” He held the unicorn’s head in his hands as the other knelt before him. “You don’t know how much I longed for you and shut myself out of that old room. It’s a forbidden place for me to go. It just reminds me of my failures and what I have done to you.”

“Well. For what it’s worth, I don’t remember what you did. I’m not upset at you and I am beyond fine living my life with only one working eye. It was like I was born with it.

Don’t worry so much about what you did, okay? This is a clean slate for you in a way. I may not remember anything of my life before, but this is a fresh start. We can start over!”

“Start over?” Naib looked at him in disbelief which turned back into self-deprecation. “I don’t deserve it after what I did! I don’t want to hurt you again!”

“Naib stop it! You aren’t hurting me now nor will you ever. I adore you and I am not letting you talk about yourself like this!” Ulysses nuzzled into Naib’s hands in an attempt to reassure him. “I feel safe with you and I mean it honestly. Seeing you get mad at yourself for something so long ago is taking away from the fact we reunited. Enjoy this time we have.”

“But I know you will leave me again. I want you to stay with me like how we both wanted back then.”

“Well, why not come with me to the Safe Side once I do leave and we can live together like you wanted?”

“But why won’t you stay here? You belong here as you were born and raised in this world. Don’t you want to stay here in the castle with me? We’ll be together for all eternity compared to the Safe Side…I have the ability to do that here in this world.” Naib fell silent as he caressed Ulysses’s face lovingly.

“I-“ He was at a loss for words. He didn’t know what to choose. Stay in this world or go home? It truly felt like he never belonged in both, yet home is where his life was destroyed in one night. The Other Side is where people welcomed him with open arms. His promise to Luca was still fresh in his mind as he cozied himself into the loving touches. Choosing this place would mean betraying his friend. Going home means betraying Naib. Ulysses furrowed his brows as he was mulling over it. The other seemed to take note of his indecision and lifted the unicorn’s chin to look at him.

“Don’t worry. I won’t make you answer right away. You’ve only been here for a small while and I don’t want you to stress about it. Just focus on getting settled in and relax.” He let go of the unicorn and took the paper he used and placed it on the other’s lips, placing a quick kiss onto it before taking it off the other. Ulysses’s face quickly burned bright red as he was now stammering nonsense. “Just make sure to tell me before the year ends, okay? It’s already Fall, so I expect by Winter you will have your decision. This Winter is approaching quicker than usual, but you still have time.”

Naib got up and took one last look at the fire before standing by the door. He motioned for his love to follow, and so the two were walking through the castle walls and out into the chilly outside. The sun felt far away and the sky seemed gray and filled with dead leaves flying away. Yet within the castle gardens, it was pristine as can be with bright red roses in full bloom, showing their petals for the world to see. The duo stood in the middle of it and Naib couldn’t help but have a smug face on.

“This garden is the lifeblood of my congregation. The roses that bloom here always are picked by everyone and given to Violetta to purify and be given to new members. They also serve a special purpose aside from a lovely gift, as you will see in the coming Blood Moon Ball. She and I take great pride in this place, though she mainly takes care of things here. My garden back in the Safe Side is what I care for the most as our favorite place is there. Both places are important to me.”

Ulysses took a rose in hand and inspected it. Compared to many plants he looked at, its petals were warm and felt silky to the touch. He put it close to his heart warming himself to keep the fall chill away.

“It feels like magic is coursing through it. How did you even plant these?”

“Magic is everywhere here unlike the Safe Side, for instance.” Naib took the flower from Ulysses and made it burst into a glorious flame in his hand. He grabbed the unicorn’s hand, letting the other touch the magic fire. Ulysses was about to flinch but was stunned to see that it wasn’t burning him, only giving a much greater warmth in the autumn chill. Naib gave Ulysses the flower back before walking along the garden path with the others following close. “Flowers like these grow exclusively at this castle as a result of my father and mother researching methods to save me from this plague I bear. These flowers are a great treasure as their futile efforts to ‘save me’ from myself brought an accidental beauty.”

“You keep referring to your powers as a plague. Is that why we can’t touch..?”

“You and the entire realm beyond can’t lay a finger on me. Knowing that I am the sole ruler of this purgatory, I am the only connection from here to the Overworld. That was jeopardized when I stumbled upon a butterfly that bore this curse as a boy. My parents worked themselves to death just trying to figure out how to remove it just for me to succeed to the throne and maintain the family tradition. I don’t care anymore about it as I still succeeded regardless. It’s like they were trying to remove part of me.”

“Ah- It’s a burden you have to carry then?”

“In some cosmic irony, yes. I carry everyone’s fear and sadness alongside this horrid curse. Who knew doing so made them last forever? They all love me for doing so and making them feel free. I surround myself with them as I feel needed.” He fell silent now seeming to reminisce. Ulysses didn’t want to bother with another question, so he left it at that. Naib wrapped an arm around him, careful to not let his exposed chest be near the other. The unicorn held the rose close as he relished the covered touch, now warmed by the rose’s fire. Naib truly felt cold to the touch even with a covered arm, but strangely it felt warm to him like some long smoldered crackling of a flame.

They both walked in silence around the castle grounds, earning some confused glances their way from their fellow subjects. They even went past Kevin who seemed pretty dejected seeing Ulysses in his Master’s arm and wasn’t punished for his grave offense. Violetta was quick to give him a little smack on his shoulder to focus his gaze elsewhere as the two walked past, but it didn’t stop him as he was close to haunting their path. Emily had to be the one to pull him aside and give him a scolding.

By the time night fell, the two were laughing and running to hide behind some stone pillars as they were clumsily carrying many pastries through the castle corridors, the chef was shouting annoyed curses at the two while they ran.

“If you wanted pastries, you could’ve asked me! Now I need to replace some for the coming ball!”

“Sorry~! I’ll repay you Jose by not telling Kevin your silly crush on him! Maybe I can even get him to dance with you~!” Jose could only sputter more annoyed curses before marching back to the kitchen in defeat. Both Naib and Ulysses were now in hysterics as they ran into the residential sect, diving into the vine-ridden room. They laid out the spoils of their conquest on the bed and snacked as they pleased giggling without a care in the world.

“Did you see his face?! He was so annoyed it looked like his mustache was frowning!”

“I don’t wanna imagine how Emily will feel once I swipe her syringe and fill it with juice!”

They laughed and laughed now exchanging more mischievous ideas as they ate until they grew tired. Naib offered for the unicorn to stay the night in his room like before, but Ulysses reluctantly refused and wanted to sleep in his own bed. Naib was a little disappointed their fun had to be cut short, but he waved his love off as he left and went out to the hall-

“Hey! What the hell were you doing?!” Ulysses jumped, seeing Edgar drag him into his room and locked the door. “I saw you buddy buddy with the asshole! I thought you were looking for how to get out of here!”

“Uh- Well, I kinda did. I found something out-“

“Spit it out!”

“I was getting to it! Naib said that he is the only link to the Overworld. He didn’t give specifics, just that bit. I tried to look in that boarded-up door for answers and found it was an old living space me and my mother occupied. I couldn’t remember anything of it, but it does prove you right that me and Naib met before. I don’t know why my memory is obscured!” Edgar facepalmed in disappointment at Ulysses's report.

“So you found jackshit. Everyone knows that Naib could only travel into the Overworld! He never brings any of us Purgatory souls up there 'cause we never needed to.”

“Well, he also gave me an ultimatum.”

“What do you mean ultimatum?!”

“Uh. He said that I have to choose between staying here with him or going back to the Overworld. He needs the answer before the end of Winter-“

The painter slapped Ulysses unprovoked and shook him by the collar.

“Don’t you dare stay here! Remember the plan to save Luca! Don’t let that jackass die here!”

Ulysses’s expression darkened as he took a sharp inhale before slapping Edgar back much harder than the painter could, removing himself from him.

“I remember and I still am going through with it! I am not leaving my friend here and I can’t believe you think I forgot! I was searching for answers while you haven’t found anything. Things are slowly unraveling and every time I learn something new my head spins and aches! So much confusing feelings happening all at once and you don’t let me digest it!”

The painter scoffed before stomping out of the chambers, slamming the door behind him. Ulysses rubbed at the burning red mark on his face and sat on the edge of his bed.

A flash of white flew by, but it felt like it was just his imagination. He didn’t care as he was too angry to form a coherent thought. Edgar has good intentions, but this was too harsh. A life is at stake and losing composure now just makes things worse.

Ulysses may have not gotten much info, but he gained a new perspective of Naib. Today was seeing a new side of him, unlike his usual charismatic character. It truly felt like Ulysses saw the real Naib, or so that's what he wanted to believe.

#identity v #idv #oc #idv mercenary #oc x canon #fanfic #writing

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