The scapular is back, thanks to an occultist

 So, during these days some things happened inwards and outwards. 

Outwards I got a new client, had a good time at guitar lessons and ended the pepper season for good (we have been dealing with really bad weather and waking up super early to prepare things for the next harvest), and while I was doing so, I stopped the headphones, the noise, to, even under the rain, even with my full body covered in earth and spiderwebs, enjoy the last moments of peace and quiet; the sound of the water droplets on the plastic, the "petricor" smell, being able to just work with the sole goal of a warm shower and resting until evening. The office work has been bearable too; I've started using AI tools to modify my website and learn about SEO, the seeds are being planted, and eventually I get that stable money flow, or so I hope. The thing is that I also finished a book chapter for a law book and now all that remains for the week is to make a couple calls and a budget alongside keeping the work up with my thesis. If only my back didn't scream after so many hours being sit... 

As for the inner self, I reached out to this occultist/satanic persona, I spoke to them telling my situation and, as expected, I was able to gather some insight, not because they offered me a solution but rather because I myself understood myself and my faith in renewed terms, or better, so ancient and so new, to whom I've late loved. Still I want to talk about how "free" I felt during these days. I was like a wanderer missing a home I couldn't let myself go back, being permitted to do almost everything.

Thing is this person offered me a ritual to ask directly from a medieval grimmoire called "grimoire verum" or something like that. You call upon some names and "something" comes and answers what you asked. And I was heavily against it.

Firstly, because if I ever happen to see Christ or an angel directly I would shit myself out of fear; I cannot fathom a being full of eyes telling me things like it was tuesday.

But besides that, because I found it empty and against the way I am; it might be some false shit, but even if it is, surrendering to it doesn't seem right. Spiritual graces have to be given and, to some extent, earned. This kind of "low magick· as described by Tomberg, is a sign of spiritual immaturity.

 After that I told them a couple things that came out of myself randomly, like I wasn't the person speaking but rather something ancient, something that has been carved within me, this thing I like to call the theology of suffering:

I told this person to stop relying on these practices, because these don't let them enjoy life at is fullest, that suffering is necessary to love and to learn, to grow, and even when random, it can sculpt us as the marble we are. We need to love unconditionally, soundly, relentlessly, not in the romantic way, but the augustinian one;  to argue with love, to cry out of love, to rage, to suffer, to do everything out of love for ourselves, others, and God, since that is the only path towards peace. Acceptance.

And while I was writing this speech that came out of years of precarious health and scarcity, of depression, of frustration, I felt full, I felt like I finally understood for a brief moment what the carmelites tried to say on their books; surrender is not an act you perform in regard of your prevailing conditions, but rather a conscious defiance towards the self and reality itself, to try with everything you've got to live that suffering to the bone so it can change you for the better, either to make you sharper or kinder, or both. Surrender is the acceptance of the present, the forgiveness towards the past and the openness towards future, to become your own sun in order to make others flourish.

Suffering is necessary to make us honest with ourselves, to make us thing for solutions, to avoid being tame through commodities  into mediocrity, to strip every single bit of reason out of our faiths.

I still don't know how to feel about God and the somewhat transactional nature of faith, but I know now, more than never, than my faith and my own self is rooted into stubbornness,  that I will wrestle either with God or reality to get my blessing, my better tomorrow no matter the low points nor the pain or the frustration, as I've been depleted from consolations and I still wanted, I still waited, I mourned towards a sky that wasn't empty.

The scapular is back, the old faith is not.

As how will this develop? I have no clue. What I do know is that next week I have a medical exam and I will put my whole self into get healed.