Think Forward.

Philosophy

Magickal Paths 730

Tupan, 4 d.
In magick, “right-hand path” (RHP) and “left-hand path” (LHP) name two different orientations toward power and the sacred—not simple good/evil lanes. The RHP aims at theurgy: purifying the self, aligning with a transcendent order, and uniting with something higher—the Godhead, Nous, Holy Guardian Angel, True Will. Authority flows downward through lineage, consecration, and rule. You clean the vessel first—banishings, abstinences, prayer, graded initiations—then invoke to become more transparent to the divine. The ethic is about humility, service, and character. Power’s legitimate when it’s bound by vow and used to heal, protect, and teach. That’s one posture. The LHP, by contrast, aims at apotheosis—exalting and individuating the magician until the self becomes its own godform. Authority here flows outward, from the practitioner’s will, forged through ordeal, trance, pacts, and direct negotiation with spirits. Rather than shun taboo currents, the LHP learns to contain and integrate them—to harvest force from desire, fear, rage, or eros and bind it to a chosen aim. You don’t surrender ego so much as refine and weaponize it, ideally with awareness of cost. Ethics turn on accountability: you pay what you promise, own your collateral, and live with your bargains. Both paths draw from the same toolbox—banishing, centering, consecration, circles and triangles, timing, offerings, divination—but sequence and intent differ. An RHP working might banish, consecrate, invoke a solar intelligence, make a petition aligned with vow, and then give thanks and charity. An LHP one might cross a boundary—graveyard, crossroads—under wards, evoke a chthonic spirit, strike a contract with careful terms, and pay every offering to the letter. In the RHP, spirits stand as teachers in a hierarchy; in the LHP, they’re contractors in a negotiated economy. You can see echoes of this back in Tantra—dakṣiṇācāra (conventional) vs. vāmacāra (heterodox)—and in the Western split between theurgy and goetia. Rosicrucian and Golden Dawn rites leaned toward theosis; other traditions, from Crowley’s “True Will” to explicitly LHP currents, tilt toward sovereignty and self-deification. Modern magicians mix freely. A Thelemite might invoke the Holy Guardian Angel on Sunday, then perform an uncrossing at a graveyard Tuesday night. Chaos magicians switch hands almost by instinct, tailoring each operation to its need. Every approach has hazards. The RHP can fall into moralism, spiritual bypass, or dependence on external authority. The LHP can slide into narcissism, thrill-seeking, or treating everything—people included—as currency. That’s why mature practice always builds guardrails: divination before and after; clarity of aim; wards; records; fulfillment of obligations; aftercare for the psyche and for relationships touched by the work. A small litmus test helps: Does the working increase lucidity, steadiness, and the capacity to keep one’s word without needless harm? If not, change the method. It’s all experiment, after all. Choosing which hand to use isn’t about belonging to a tribe—it’s about the task. Healing old patterns, steadying life, and cultivating virtue thrive in RHP containers. Breaking paralysis, reclaiming agency, confronting shadow material, or working under pact lean LHP. Most of us end up ambidextrous anyway: vow on Sunday, crossroads on Tuesday, always with a ledger of costs—and enough honesty to pay when the bill comes due. Both paths can sanctify or corrupt. The art is knowing which hand opens which door—and closing it properly when you are done.

My five witnesses of love 731

Boucharfou, 4 d.
Of this love that I have for you I have five witnesses: My frail body which has lost its plumpness! My hot tears despite your good care!! My hands that tremble when you are far away!!! My poor heart beating very hard in its little corner!!!! And the hope of meeting you, one day, a few minutes…. at least !!!!! ​Dr Fouad Bouchareb All rights are protected

My Father's Pen 1474

Boucharfou, 10 d.
​I have known it since I was young. My late father, then a school principal, gave me my first pen when I passed my primary school certificate in June 1966, to replace my dip pen, penholder, and inkwell. ​He taught me how to hold it between my thumb and index finger and how to improve my handwriting in both Arabic and French. ​He taught me to choose the best verb, the best sentence to express my feelings and reveal my emotions of the moment. He instilled in me the art of juggling with the taxonomy of verbs and, subsequently, the choice of the best tense for conjugating them. He never stopped repeating to me that the solemnity of the moment required a faithful reflection of the recount of events, whether actually experienced or imagined. He taught me to reflect on what I was going to write before drafting and consulting. ​He had the art and manner of transmitting his knowledge to me with passion and love. He took all the time for this patiently, never reprimanding me for a spelling mistake or when I rolled my Rs. He knew that by doing so, he succeeded in setting me on the right path for drafting, narration, pronunciation, and written and oral expression. ​I often used to lock myself in my studio, which was located in the garden of our staff housing at the Sidi Amr school in Meknes. ​This is how I began to write short stories, poems, and even love letters to an imaginary beloved. ​I also kept my personal diary. ​My French teacher in the first year, called the observation class, at Moulay Ismail High School, Mr. Rossetti, encouraged me to write. ​My pen was a precious tool for me, allowing me to express everything I felt at that time of my life. For me, it was a way not only to entertain myself but also to consolidate a gift for writing and composing poems. My father supervised what I produced in writing from a distance and had the art and manner of correcting my essays while encouraging me to move forward. ​My "vocabulary" capital grew day by day. ​I had gotten into the habit of writing in one go, without resorting to a draft. ​Now that I am nearing seventy, I continue to write with a disconcerting ease that surprises those around me. ​For me, there is nothing surprising, because I possess genes transmitted by my father, an outstanding teacher and school principal who officiated for more than forty years and who, like me and my brothers and sisters, trained hundreds and hundreds of students. ​May he rest in peace and know that his pen is in good hands. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved November 27, 2025

My Father's Pen 1523

Boucharfou, 10 d.
​I have known it since I was young. My late father, then a school principal, gave me my first pen when I passed my primary school certificate in June 1966, to replace my dip pen, penholder, and inkwell. ​He taught me how to hold it between my thumb and index finger and how to improve my handwriting in both Arabic and French. ​He taught me to choose the best verb, the best sentence to express my feelings and reveal my emotions of the moment. He instilled in me the art of juggling with the taxonomy of verbs and, subsequently, the choice of the best tense for conjugating them. He never stopped repeating to me that the solemnity of the moment required a faithful reflection of the recount of events, whether actually experienced or imagined. He taught me to reflect on what I was going to write before drafting and consulting. ​He had the art and manner of transmitting his knowledge to me with passion and love. He took all the time for this patiently, never reprimanding me for a spelling mistake or when I rolled my Rs. He knew that by doing so, he succeeded in setting me on the right path for drafting, narration, pronunciation, and written and oral expression. ​I often used to lock myself in my studio, which was located in the garden of our staff housing at the Sidi Amr school in Meknes. ​This is how I began to write short stories, poems, and even love letters to an imaginary beloved. ​I also kept my personal diary. ​My French teacher in the first year, called the observation class, at Moulay Ismail High School, Mr. Rossetti, encouraged me to write. ​My pen was a precious tool for me, allowing me to express everything I felt at that time of my life. For me, it was a way not only to entertain myself but also to consolidate a gift for writing and composing poems. My father supervised what I produced in writing from a distance and had the art and manner of correcting my essays while encouraging me to move forward. ​My "vocabulary" capital grew day by day. ​I had gotten into the habit of writing in one go, without resorting to a draft. ​Now that I am nearing seventy, I continue to write with a disconcerting ease that surprises those around me. ​For me, there is nothing surprising, because I possess genes transmitted by my father, an outstanding teacher and school principal who officiated for more than forty years and who, like me and my brothers and sisters, trained hundreds and hundreds of students. ​May he rest in peace and know that his pen is in good hands. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved November 27, 2025

My Father's Pen 1543

Boucharfou, 10 d.
​I have known it since I was young. My late father, then a school principal, gave me my first pen when I passed my primary school certificate in June 1966, to replace my dip pen, penholder, and inkwell. ​He taught me how to hold it between my thumb and index finger and how to improve my handwriting in both Arabic and French. ​He taught me to choose the best verb, the best sentence to express my feelings and reveal my emotions of the moment. He instilled in me the art of juggling with the taxonomy of verbs and, subsequently, the choice of the best tense for conjugating them. He never stopped repeating to me that the solemnity of the moment required a faithful reflection of the recount of events, whether actually experienced or imagined. He taught me to reflect on what I was going to write before drafting and consulting. ​He had the art and manner of transmitting his knowledge to me with passion and love. He took all the time for this patiently, never reprimanding me for a spelling mistake or when I rolled my Rs. He knew that by doing so, he succeeded in setting me on the right path for drafting, narration, pronunciation, and written and oral expression. ​I often used to lock myself in my studio, which was located in the garden of our staff housing at the Sidi Amr school in Meknes. ​This is how I began to write short stories, poems, and even love letters to an imaginary beloved. ​I also kept my personal diary. ​My French teacher in the first year, called the observation class, at Moulay Ismail High School, Mr. Rossetti, encouraged me to write. ​My pen was a precious tool for me, allowing me to express everything I felt at that time of my life. For me, it was a way not only to entertain myself but also to consolidate a gift for writing and composing poems. My father supervised what I produced in writing from a distance and had the art and manner of correcting my essays while encouraging me to move forward. ​My "vocabulary" capital grew day by day. ​I had gotten into the habit of writing in one go, without resorting to a draft. ​Now that I am nearing seventy, I continue to write with a disconcerting ease that surprises those around me. ​For me, there is nothing surprising, because I possess genes transmitted by my father, an outstanding teacher and school principal who officiated for more than forty years and who, like me and my brothers and sisters, trained hundreds and hundreds of students. ​May he rest in peace and know that his pen is in good hands. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved November 27, 2025

Reflection 2042

Boucharfou, 15 d.
​Throughout my life, what I ignored as covetousness came to me willingly, without effort. And everything I sought to possess ultimately slipped away from me, despite reinforcements. Life only shows its generosity towards the one who doesn't care and goes without, It humiliates the one who clings to it and holds on relentlessly. The fire that burns the soul is soothed and eventually extinguished by detachment... So detach yourself, for the one who lets go easily ends up possessing. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb November 24, 2025 All rights reserved

Reflection 2141

Boucharfou, 16 d.
​🧘 ​Throughout my life, what I ignored as covetousness came to me willingly, without effort. And everything I sought to possess ultimately slipped away from me, despite reinforcements. Life only shows its generosity towards the one who doesn't care and goes without, It humiliates the one who clings to it and holds on relentlessly. The fire that burns the soul is soothed and eventually extinguished by detachment... So detach yourself, for the one who lets go easily ends up possessing. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb November 24, 2025 All rights reserved

Reflection 2143

Boucharfou, 16 d.
​ ​Throughout my life, what I ignored as covetousness came to me willingly, without effort. And everything I sought to possess ultimately slipped away from me, despite reinforcements. Life only shows its generosity towards the one who doesn't care and goes without, It humiliates the one who clings to it and holds on relentlessly. The fire that burns the soul is soothed and eventually extinguished by detachment... So detach yourself, for the one who lets go easily ends up possessing. ​Dr. Fouad Bouchareb November 24, 2025 All rights reserved

Going Forward: An Exercise in Focus. 2769

GiANTS Game Philosophy, 21 d.
- Lifestyle - Philosophy -
1.9 min read.
It has been half a year since finishing the design and “publishing” my first modest game. Find the link to the actual game at the bottom of this article. It's free, no download necessary. The aftermath of Creating this game can be summarized simply: I still play and enjoy my game. Nobody else plays it since I didn’t go to any lengths to advertise its existence. Which doesn’t bother me at all. But it does go deeper than that. The exercise of creating the game, writing down the rules and having people test it, along with the task of building upon the feedback with refined iterations of the rules, it all forced me to make a choice between my comfort zone and what lies outside of it. I very much had the option to keep a functioning game recorded exclusively in my mind, and to keep to myself about it (or maybe blog about it). But instead I disciplined myself to produce a product that others can experience in their own way and on their own time. There are two main take-aways from this choice: 1) Regardless of whether others do play the game or not, I have created something that can “be pointed at.” Something tangible, observable and measurable. This feels like hopping over a fence; I had made nothing before, and now I have made something. Going forward from here, this fact will not change regardless of what course of action I choose next. 2)I have felt the feeling of reaching outside of my comfort zone and subsequently expanding it by the smallest increment. Which means that going forward from here, while I may have unfamiliar territory ahead of me, the act of crossing into unfamiliar territory is becoming familiar. This is a great personal improvement overall and just like the first point, regardless of what I choose to do next, this will not change. The next highly uncomfortable step for me at this time will be to promote and maybe even market something of my making. I do have a batch of ideas in that regard that are just waiting to be put into action: - “try before you buy” weekly evening events at one of my local board games shop, which have the kindness of allowing people to self-promote their homebrew games. - Attempt to contact Mark on YouTube (Riffle Shuffle and Roll) to see if he’d be willing to feature Bully Takedown on his channel. - Another game I’m working on (ooh secret project) could be packaged as a prototype and pitched at conventions. - The secret project could be, gasp, pitched to a publisher once it’s finished and packaged as a prototype. - Eventually maybe I could even start posting on some socials, wincing merrily along the way. Any of these steps are unspeakably uncomfortable for me. Maybe that’s appropriate for pitching to a publisher or at a convention, but the others seem more accessible despite the disproportionate feeling of discomfort regarding those options. This is where it all becomes an exercise in focus. Clearly anxiety is hijacking my imagination and taking me into mental headspaces I have no business being in. As a wise fictional character in an animated movie once said: “focusing on what I can control here and now” will be the key to going forward. I will be starting a dev log soon for the aforementioned secret project, to keep track of the creation of such a thing as a prototype. Let’s call it Project Contraption for now. As for the game I published, here it is below. It's called Bully Takedown.
medium.com/@giantsgamedesign/bul...

The Value of Authenticity 2804

Boucharfou, 25 d.
​This is our problem. 👌 ​What value does friendship have without sincerity? What value does reading have without understanding? What value does writing have without evoking emotions? What value do words have without meaning? What value does discussion have without logic? What value does a smile have without pure intentions? What value does a commitment have without loyalty? ​Too often, we make friends without being sincere, we love without being faithful, we talk a lot without acting, and we promise without keeping our word. ​Dr Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved Agadir, November 15, 2025

Quimbanda 4018

Tupan, 1 mon.
Quimbanda is a living, urban spirit-religion that took shape in Brazil’s port cities over the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries, drawing on Central-West African Bantu cosmologies, Indigenous American practices, popular Catholicism, and Kardecist spiritism. Where Umbanda is often described as the “right hand” (linha da direita) that emphasizes healing and moral elevation, Quimbanda is commonly called the “left hand” (linha da esquerda): it faces the gritty realities of desire, conflict, work, sex, money, and protection in the world as it is. Its spirits—above all Exus and Pomba Giras—are not devils in the Christian sense but powerful agents of the crossroads who negotiate paths, open and close roads, and mirror human passion with startling clarity. Historically, Quimbanda emerged alongside rapid migration, police repression, and racialized poverty. In this setting, its spirits became specialists in boundary spaces: thresholds, bars, markets, street corners, cemeteries—places where rules bend and deals are made. A gira (ceremonial circle) is noisy and social: drums mark the cadence, songs call the lines of spirits, smoke and perfume signal shifts in presence, and mediums incorporate to dance, speak, and counsel. Offerings are direct and sensorial—cachaça (distilled fresh sugarcane spirit), cigarettes, red wine, roses, roasted corn, spicy foods—because Quimbanda is about exchange: you give, you ask, you fulfill what you promised. Exu in Quimbanda is not the trickster-devil of missionary caricature, nor merely the messenger of Candomblé. He is a class of spirits with names, histories, and personalities—Exu Tranca-Ruas, Exu Sete Encruzilhadas, Exu Caveira—who work at specific “crossroads” (cruzamentos, encruzilhadas). Pomba Gira, often misunderstood through misogynistic stereotypes, is the sovereign of female desire, elegance, and cunning—Maria Padilha, Sete Saias, Cigana—teaching about autonomy, charisma, and the dangers and power of seduction. Together they deal with what is hard to sanctify in polite spaces: jealousy, breakups, court cases, job blocks, spiritual attacks, and the tangled ethics of obligation. Quimbanda’s ethic is pragmatic and accountable rather than abstractly moralistic. The spirits are not fooled by pompous speeches; they expect clarity, reciprocity, and follow-through. If a petition succeeds, you pay your offering. If you promised a mass for a soul, you schedule it. If you sought a binding or a separation, you accept the web of consequences that comes with bending social ties. Because of this directness—and because outsiders often conflate “left-hand” with “evil”—Quimbanda has long been stigmatized. In Brazil, racist and classist stereotypes have linked it to criminality and evangelical demonization has fueled persecution. Practitioners preach that Quimbanda is a sophisticated technology of negotiation with the spirit world, grounded in community, memory, and results. Lineages vary. Some houses are fiercely traditional, keeping a tight separation from Umbanda and Candomblé; others are “mixed,” with mediums who serve lines across religions. Some houses work almost entirely with Exu and Pomba Gira; others include male and female “people” of the cemetery, the sea, the forest, or the gypsy caravan—reflecting broader Brazilian spirit vocabularies. There are also differences in cosmology: a few lineages place Exu within a Bantu-inspired schema of forces (kalunga, the line between worlds; nkisi-like principles); others frame him more through Catholic and Spiritist lenses, emphasizing masses for souls, prayers, and moral counsel. What unites these forms is a shared grammar: crossroads as cosmological hub, offerings as contracts, incorporation as communication, and the conviction that spiritual power answers the problems of daily life. The sacred here is not faraway transcendence; it is the friction and flow of human bonds. In recent decades, global interest has created exported and hybrid forms of “Kimbanda/Quimbanda,” sometimes trimmed to a grimoire system for private ritual. Practitioners in Brazil often welcome exchange but worry about decontextualization—losing the songs, the humor, the streetwise etiquette that make the spirits feel at home. Many houses respond with public education: teaching that Exu is not the devil, that offerings belong in appropriate places and times, that consent and responsibility matter, and that tradition adapts without abandoning its roots. To meet Quimbanda is to meet a mirror. It does not promise virtue; it promises clarity about what you want and what it will cost. Its spirits love laughter and flamboyance, but they are exacting accountants of exchange. If Umbanda teaches the balm of light, Quimbanda teaches the courage to walk at night: to stand at the crossing, name your need, make your pact, and carry your word. If you do, the road opens—not because the world became pure, but because you learned how to move through it.

Managing Science is not a numbers game 4848

Tariq Daouda, 2 mon.
More people in science does not necessarily mean better results: there is an equilibrium to find, a sweet spot. There is a fundamental difference between technology, industry and science. In an industrial setting, production is mostly defined by how many units of production you have, and how much ressources are available for production. As long as input ressources are available, you can in theory scale production somewhat geometrically. Double the number of factories, double the output. Science works differently. Historically groundbreaking scientific discoveries and theories have been made in times of small tight knit communities. The most famous example being the iconic photograph from the Fifth Solvay Conference in 1927, held in Brussels, often referred to as "the most intelligent photo of all time". All the great minds that defined modern physics from relativity to quantum mechanics fit in one single photograph. In science, instruments are not the means of production, they are the tools used to assess theories. Doubling the money and the people does not imply doubling the output. Science is not about producing stuff it's about producing new ideas. Science thrives when highly intelligent individuals, extremely passionate about a single topic, get to meet to exchange often and freely over a long period of time. A hyper focused kernel driven by a similar passion. Adding more people dilutes the potential of highly meaningful interactions. That's the first reason why more people can lead to less groundbreaking discoveries. Even if the constituents of that kernel exists, it can never crystallized and reach it's full potential. Too many people to talk to, too many papers to read and too many unaligned objectives. This also promotes the apparition of dogmatism and "consensus thinking". When there are too many ideas to assess, it is tempting to go with what the majority thinks. However for science, freedom is more important than consensus. Consensus is a political tool used by human beings to govern themselves in matters of opinions. This is irrelevant to science because science is empirical. It doesn't matter how many people think something if it can be demonstrated to be false. Freedom of thought, on the other hand is the essential mechanism that keeps on generating new ideas and points of view. A necessary part of scientific development.

The Parental Home 4601

Boucharfou, 2 mon.
The Parental Home My parents’ house is permanently closed. The doorbell remains curiously silent. There is no longer Mom to welcome me with open arms and her wonderfully legendary smile. There is no longer Dad to tell me about his many travels, to share his famous jokes and give me advice about my job and career. There are no more magical smells coming from Mom’s kitchen, making my mouth water in anticipation of a good feast and delicious dishes of which only she knew the secret. My parents were so proud to see me become a doctor. They had no idea that once they became ill, I would be the one watching over them and their unfortunate fate! Since their passing, the peaceful atmosphere that reigned in our home is gone. There is no more joy of living. And, so to speak, even the hands of the wall clock have stopped moving. And the swing has ceased its endless back and forth. No more tick-tock, no random music. There are no more heated debates between my brothers and sisters, debates that only Dad had the art of settling with wisdom, favoring no one. He taught us how to discern things, to compose poetry, verses, and prose. He amazed his audience with his funny stories. Now, there are no more guests in the house. A divine silence reigns, like a sacred communion. Time first suddenly stopped on October 3rd, 1996. It froze forever on December 5th, 2018. From now on, I am left only with prayers, that their souls may rest in peace. Dr. Bouchareb Fouad Agadir, August 21st, 2022 All rights reserved

Candomblé 4900

Tupan, 2 mon.
Candomblé is an Afro-Brazilian religion rooted in West and Central African traditions that took shape in Brazil through enslaved Yoruba (Ketu/Nagô), Fon (Jeje), and Bantu (Angola/Congo) peoples. It is based on living relationships with the orixás (Jeje: voduns; Angola: inkices)—deities of nature and human experience—each with their own colors, rhythms, foods, stories, and temperaments. Ceremonies take place in a terreiro under the leadership of an iyalorixá or babalorixá, supported by ogãs (ritual musicians/guardians) and ekedes (female ritual attendants). Through singing, drumming on atabaques, dancing, and strict ritual etiquette, devotees cultivate and circulate axé (sacred vitality). The three main drums-rum. rumpi, and lê-have specific patterns for each orixá, and liturgical songs usually preserve Yoruba and Bantu words that transmit theology and history. During the ceremonies, the orixás may “take over” (sometimes called mounting) initiated mediums in spirit possession, bringing counsel and healing to the community. Offerings and sacred foods are prepared with rules of purity and respect; initiation is a long apprenticeship involving seclusion, ritual shaving (raspagem), obligations, and the building of one’s personal relationship with patron orixás. New initiates (iaôs) receive sacred objects and taboos (quizilas) that guide daily life and protect their axé. Divination—often performed using cowrie shells (jogo de búzios) or Ifá—guides decisions, diagnoses imbalances, and prescribes ebós (remedies/offerings). Many houses historically masked orixás with Catholic saints to survive persecution, yet Candomblé maintains its own theology, ritual language, and ethics. Each “nation” (Ketu, Angola, Jeje, and others) keeps distinct musical styles, liturgical languages, and ritual aesthetics while honoring common principles. The religion values humility, reciprocity, care for elders and initiates, and practical service—healing, protection, and community solidarity. Terreiros keep pejis (shrines) and sacred trees, and many lead environmental and social projects as an expression of respect for the natural forces embodied by the orixás. Public festivals mark the calendar with processions, communal meals, and songs that celebrate the houses’ lineages. Today Candomblé thrives across Brazil and the diaspora, adapting to modern life while safeguarding initiatory secrecy, ritual precision, and the dignity of African-descended wisdom. Despite ongoing prejudice, legal recognition and cultural pride have strengthened terreiros, allowing them to teach, serve, and preserve traditions for future generations.

The 4 Choices of Morpheus and what it teaches about human psychology 4714

Tariq Daouda, 2 mon.
- Science - Philosophy - Realist -
0.9 min read.
An iconic scene from an iconic movie. Two men sitting face to face in a abandoned hotel. Each one on a red leather, luxurious Chesterfield-style armchair. A ridiculously small coffee table between them. The scene is dimly lit and outside a storm is raging. The move Morpheus speaks and the more Neo leans forward. Enthralled by the story, by the mystery being revealed. Morpheus leans forward, extending his hands: "This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill—the story ends; you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill—you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit hole goes. Remember, all I'm offering is the truth. Nothing more." Slowly he opens each hand, revealing the translucent pills. Take the blue pill an stay as you are, take the red pill and attain gnosis. Knowledge of the true reality of things. The deal is irresistible. However, as there seem to be only two choices. In reality there are 4: take the blue pill, take the right pill, take both pills and take none. The last two did not occur to Neo, as they did not occur to the audience. The scene, the monologue is perfectly crafted. With his words and delivery Morpheus created a box for Neo's mind and the audience. A limited set of reality in which to think. We will never know what would you have happened if Neo had just walked away. Morpheus was selling the red pill, and he executed the prefect sell. Thinking outside of the box often means refusing to get boxed-in in the first place.
youtu.be/zE7PKRjrid4

Love 4265

Boucharfou, 2 mon.
Love! Love is a destiny We hardly choose the moment to love It happens one evening or one morning It happens by pure chance It leaves you confused and haggard One day when you least expect it You didn't see it coming from afar It happens in the blink of an eye... Without an appointment... It makes you soft... It makes you lose your mind... It makes you run away from home Like fire, it burns you with passion Love at first sight is legion You'll get your share, your ration Without logic... But it's beautiful despite everything we endure It's a pure feeling When it's sincere It's magical It's fantastic Despite its pains and sorrows, its sleepless nights Until morning It's the elixir of life It's endless ecstasy... It happens to you by magic... Content in loving takes you away from everything... It besieges you from everywhere! It takes over! It will drive you crazy sooner or later!!! Dr. Fouad Bouchareb El Medano / Tenerife August 24, 2025 Inspired by a text by Jalal Eddine Erroumi Arabic and Arabic All rights reserved

My Generation 4390

Boucharfou, 2 mon.
- Society - Philosophy - Romance -
1.3 min read.
I come from a generation that never knew electronic tablets. Our tablets were wooden boards, where we copied verses from the Quran, learned them by heart, and recited them before the fqih. A single mistake meant the sting of a stick, followed by the laughter of classmates. We never begged our parents for toys. We built them ourselves—rolling bicycle rims with a stick for handlebars, imitating the roar of engines with our mouths, or crafting skateboards from wood and ball bearings. Our games were simple but endless: hide-and-seek, marbles, spinning tops. We did not need private lessons. Our teachers were masters of their craft, teaching with passion and devotion. We discovered poetry, crossword puzzles, and the joy of words at an early age. Respect for elders was a rule, and care for the younger ones a duty. Holidays were not for travel but for small jobs that earned us coins to buy books—Camus, Hugo, Balzac, and others that today’s youth rarely open. We lived fully in the real world, untouched by the virtual. Our joys were simple: an old movie at the cinema, a homemade sandwich of tomatoes and peppers, afternoons at the public pool, or slipping into a football match just before the final whistle. One black-and-white TV channel was enough, and a transistor radio was a treasure. We kissed our parents’ hands, respected teachers and policemen, shared our scholarship money with siblings, and saved schoolbags and textbooks for years. We listened to our grandmothers’ tales in the dark, our imaginations weaving monsters, heroes, and enchanted princesses. We knew the Solex, the 2CV, the Dauphine, the R8. We wrote letters and waited for the postman as if he were a hero. Pocket money came only at Eid, and our first driver’s license only after our first paycheck. We grew up running errands, carrying bread to the oven, water from the fountain, groceries on credit in the neighborhood shop. We learned values the hard way—through discipline, slaps, and the watchful eyes of parents, neighbors, and teachers. Elders were always right. We listened more than we spoke. That is why my generation is so different from today’s. We are often misunderstood, dismissed as outdated—even by our own children. Yet I cannot help but feel that those who never lived what we did have truly missed something. Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved

Age Is Just a Number 4339

Boucharfou, 2 mon.
Age is nothing but a number, Just the count of candles burning bright. On this fourth day of December, Sixty-eight flames light up my life. They melt away like gentle magic, Their wax flowing quietly down the candlesticks. Shy as maidens, they reveal themselves, Casting soft shadows Across the four walls of my room— Choreographing the loveliest of dances To the rhythm of a tender melody, As I sway with them in every direction. They awaken my journeys, The memories of the film of my life— Moments of joy once savored, And painful chapters overcome. Sixty-eight candles still shine upon me. But how many remain in the treasury of my years? One? Two? Ten, or twenty? Only God holds the answer. They say age is just a number. Yet the further we go along life’s path, The more we sense the day when all will cease. For me, only the present moment counts. Eternity is not mine to claim— Only God is eternal. What matters is guarding the wealth of health, And taming the burdens of illness. Sixty-eight candles brighten my world, And I choose to savor this moment Now, and only now. Dr. Fouad Bouchareb All rights reserved Wednesday, December 04, 2024

AI: The fallacy of the Turing Test 4052

Tariq Daouda, 3 mon.
The Turing test is simple to understand. In a typical setup, a human judge engages in text-based conversations with both a human and a machine, without knowing which is which, and must determine which participant is the machine. If the judge cannot reliably tell them apart based solely on their conversational responses, the machine is said to have passed the test and demonstrated convincing human-like intelligence. This is convenient, it perfectly avoids facing the hard questions such as defining intelligence and consciousness. Instead, it lays out a basic naive test founded on an ontological fallacy: it's not because something is perceived as something else that it is that thing. The most evident critique of the Turing Test is embedded into the fundementals of Machine Learning itself: - The model is not the modeled. It remains an approximation however precise it is. A simple analogy makes the ontological fallacy clear. It's like going to a magic show, seeing a table floating above the ground and believing that the levitation really happened. How many bits of information separate a real human from a chatting bot? Assuming the number is exactly 0, without any justification, is an extraordinary naive claim. Interestingly, the Turing Test also greatly fails at defining so called super-Intelligence. A super Intelligent machine would evidently fail the test by simply providing super-intelligent answers. Unless it decides to fool the experimenter, in which case it could appear as anything it desires rendering the test meaningless. Regarding modern LLMs, the veil is already faling. LLMs have quircks, like an oversuage of em-dashes. A strange features that is indicative of something potentially pathological in the way the models are trained. These strange dashes would have been expected if a majority of people were using them. However it so happens that hardly anyone knows how to find them on their keyboard. This proves that LLMs are not following the manifold of human writing and suggests the existence of other bisases. Finally, embedded inside the promotion of the Turing test is often a lazy ontological theory of materialism that stipulates that consciousness is not fundamental but a byproduct of matter. Often negating it's existence altogether: It's not that consciousness can be faked, or that it is the result of computations, the understanding is that consciousness does not exist. It is an illusion that takes over the subject of the experience. Again a theory of convenience, based on little justification that produces a major paradox: Who is conscious of the illusion of consciousness?

Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa 4847

Tupan, 3 mon.
Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa von Nettesheim (1486–1535) was a German polymath, physician, soldier, and occult philosopher whose writings laid the intellectual foundations for much of the Western esoteric tradition. He is best known for his magnum opus, *De Occulta Philosophia Libri Tres* (Three Books of Occult Philosophy), a comprehensive synthesis of magic, Kabbalah, Neoplatonism, Hermeticism, and Christian mysticism. In Agrippa, the currents of the Renaissance—scientific curiosity, classical revival, and spiritual yearning—converged in a deep and somewhat controversial body of work. Born in Cologne in 1486, Agrippa was educated in classical literature, theology, and law, but he also immersed himself in the esoteric arts—alchemy, astrology, angelology, and ceremonial magic. He traveled widely across Europe, engaging with scholars, nobility, and religious authorities. He often served as a physician and lecturer, while simultaneously pursuing his deeper passion for the hidden structure of reality that he believed could be revealed through magickal philosophy. Agrippa was a direct student and correspondent of Johannes Trithemius (1462-1516), the abbot of Sponheim and a key figure in early modern magical and cryptographic studies. Trithemius, known for his own influential work *Steganographia*, served as a mentor who inspired Agrippa’s lifelong pursuit of hidden knowledge and spiritual science. He also encouraged Agrippa to refine his ideas on occult philosophy into a systematic form, which would later become *De Occulta Philosophia*. In *De Occulta Philosophia*, Agrippa organizes magick into three interconnected worlds: 1) The Elemental world, governed by natural philosophy and the powers of the four elements (earth, water, air, fire). 2) The Celestial world, influenced by the movements of the stars and planets—i.e., astrology. 3) The Intellectual or Divine world, ruled by angelic hierarchies, divine archetypes, and the mysteries of the Kabbalah. For Agrippa, true magick was not superstition but a sacred science, a means by which the human soul could ascend through the created order toward union with the divine. He viewed the magician not as a manipulator of forces for selfish ends, but as a philosopher-priest who, through study, virtue, and divine illumination, could harmonize with the cosmos and act as a mediator between heaven and earth. Yet Agrippa’s life was marked by tension and contradiction. He often ran into problems with church authorities, accused of heresy or subversion. In his later years, he published *De Incertitudine et Vanitate Scientiarum* (On the Uncertainty and Vanity of the Sciences), a scathing critique of dogmatic knowledge, including his own magickal writings—though many scholars interpret this as rhetorical irony or spiritual disillusionment rather than renunciation. Agrippa died in 1535, likely in Grenoble. Though seen by some as a charlatan and heretic, his influence endures until today. His Occult Philosophy became a cornerstone of Renaissance magic, shaping later figures like John Dee, Giordano Bruno, and Eliphas Levi. Even modern Hermetic and ceremonial traditions—such as the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn—owe much to Agrippa’s system of correspondences and metaphysical cosmology. Nowadays, Agrippa is recognized not merely as a magician, but as a pioneer of symbolic thought, a bridge between medieval mysticism and modern esotericism. His work continues to guide and inspire those who seek the hidden harmonies of the universe—through reason, reverence, and the transformative power of the imagination.

Divided by time and Diluted by the days 4769

El Hombre Galan, 3 mon.
- Philosophy -
0.5 min read.
What you are is the resistance to yourself - exhausting life and preserving it at the same time- until you are not here. Rest from rest Work from work Is this not what life is - self-examination of the self, the echo you hear that comes to you, not from you. My thoughts are not mine then- they come to me from whom? I am this, the I behind I - or my mind behind my mind. Rest from rest Work from work I’m divided by time, diluted by the days ahead of me, I am what is left over 20 yrs, 30 yrs, and more. How much can I give each day? What will be left? How does this end? The perfect start to a bad ending? A bad start with a perfect end? Rest from rest Work from work Have you preserved and exhausted yourself and lived a full life in the best way you could? If not, try again!

Be Free From Yourself 4768

El Hombre Galan, 3 mon.
- Philosophy -
0.5 min read.
What are we waiting for? You and I Living and dying in an eternal day Waiting for the light to fade away? I lie in the bed at night to read or see the stars, and I feel 1000 pounds on me- because life holds and presses hard, not because of difficulty. I can beat life, but it presses hard and holds me down because I am waiting; waiting for what? I have ideas. Our lives have been turned in on themselves, and now we wait for things to happen—most of the time. I don’t think we waited much in the past for things, and maybe we will wait more in the future. This cannot be good. Are some of us still in conflict with this- I don’t like waiting, and I am restless. It is time to make things happen and free myself of this feeling.

Gematria 5876

Tupan, 3 mon.
Gematria is a system of alphanumeric substitution in which each letter of the Hebrew alphabet is assigned a numerical value. This allows words and phrases to be translated into numbers, and those numbers can then be compared, analyzed, and interpreted to reveal hidden meanings, symbolic relationships, or mystical insights. Gematria is a central technique in Kabbalistic thought, where it serves as a tool for uncovering the deeper structure of sacred texts, especially the Hebrew Bible (Tanakh). The term "gematria" is believed to derive from the Greek word geometria, or possibly from a conflation of gramma (letter) and metron (measure), reflecting the art of measuring letters through numerical equivalence. Although most closely associated with Jewish mysticism, gematria has parallels in other traditions, such as Greek isopsephy and Arabic abjad numerology. In the Hebrew system, the 22 letters of the alphabet are assigned values, and with them, any Hebrew word can be reduced to a numerical sum. The word for "life" (chai, חַי), for example, is composed of Chet (8) and Yod (10), totaling 18. This is why the number 18 holds special significance in Jewish tradition. Gematria becomes especially powerful when words or phrases share the same numerical value. For example, the words Elohim (אֱלֹהִים) and HaTevah (הַטֶּבַע, "the nature") both sum to 86, suggesting a mystical identity between God and the natural world. Such equivalences are not considered accidental; rather, they are believed to reveal the hidden architecture of divine creation encoded in scripture. There are several forms of gematria: Standard Gematria: Using the basic letter-to-number values. Mispar Gadol: Adds the value of final forms (so-called "final letters") as their own distinct higher values. Atbash and Albam: Ciphers that replace letters based on alphabetic inversion or shifting, creating additional layers of interpretation. Ordinal Gematria: Assigns numerical values by sequence (Aleph = 1, Bet = 2, etc., up to Tav = 22). Kabbalists use gematria not merely for intellectual exercise but as a form of theurgical meditation. By contemplating the numerical relationships between divine names, commandments, and sacred texts, they seek to elevate their consciousness, reveal veiled meanings, and harmonize with the divine structure of the universe. In modern esotericism and Hermetic traditions, gematria has been adopted into systems of Western occultism, especially within Hermetic Kabbalah, the Golden Dawn, and Thelema. Practitioners often compare Hebrew, Greek, and English gematria to examine words and magical formulae, aiming to unlock multidimensional significance in magical texts and ritual language. Gematria is both a science of sacred number and a spiritual art. It unifies language and number, matter and spirit, exegesis and revelation. Through its perspective, letters cease to be mere symbols—they become vessels of divine energy, revealing a universe where nothing is random, waiting to be uncovered.

Sacred Geometry 6516

Tupan, 3 mon.
Sacred geometry is the study of universal patterns, proportions, and forms that shape the structure of the cosmos. Based in both mystical philosophy and natural law, it proposes that certain geometric principles—such as the circle, the triangle, the square, and the spiral—are not mere abstractions of the human mind, but archetypal patterns embedded in the very fabric of existence. From the crystalline structure of minerals to the arrangement of galaxies, from the spiraling of galaxies to the loops of a seashell, sacred geometry reveals the fundamental harmony that unites all levels of being, from the microcosm to the macrocosm. Historically, sacred geometry has been used in nearly every advanced civilization. In ancient Egypt, temples were constructed in accordance with geometrical harmonies to mirror the cosmic order and to serve as portals between the earthly and the divine. In Greece, Pythagoras and his initiates viewed numbers and forms as the essence of all reality, with the tetractys—a triangular arrangement of ten points—symbolizing the unfolding of the universe from unity into multiplicity. Platonic solids, which are the only five regular polyhedra that exist in three-dimensional space, were seen as the geometric building blocks of the classical elements: earth (cube), air (octahedron), water (icosahedron), fire (tetrahedron), and ether or spirit (dodecahedron). The circle is the most fundamental and infinite of all shapes, representing unity, eternity, and the divine source. From it arises the Vesica Piscis, formed by the intersection of two circles, symbolizing the intersection of spirit and matter, or heaven and earth. This sacred figure originates other key patterns such as the Seed of Life, Flower of Life, and Tree of Life, each a progressively complex map of creation and emanation. These patterns are found carved into sacred sites around the world, not as decoration, but as invocations of cosmic harmony encoded in symbol. At a more esoteric level, sacred geometry is not only the structure of physical matter but also the architecture of consciousness. Every line and angle becomes a glyph of spiritual truth. In the Kabbalistic Tree of Life, for example, the Sephiroth are arranged in a precise geometric pattern that mirrors the process of divine emanation from the Infinite (Ein Sof) into the manifested world. In Islamic architecture, intricate geometric mosaics reflect the infinite within the finite, pointing to the divine through abstraction and mathematical beauty. In Eastern mandalas, sacred geometry functions as both map and mirror—a diagram of the universe and a guide to inner stillness. The mystical power of sacred geometry resides in its ability to bridge the material and the metaphysical. Geometry is not only a tool for measuring space but a sacred science that unveils the divine intelligence at work in all things. To contemplate these forms is to enter a state of resonance with the universal order. When one meditates upon the proportions of a golden spiral or the interlocking symmetry of a mandala, the soul begins to remember its own original harmony. Sacred geometry is not a human invention, but a revelation—a language through which the cosmos speaks to itself. It is the alphabet of creation, the blueprint of form, and the silent song of order hidden in the chaos of appearances. Whether found in cathedrals or pinecones, in the fractal of a fern or the plan of a pyramid, these shapes serve as portals to remembrance. They whisper that behind all things lies a unified design, and to perceive it is to glimpse the mind of the divine.

Love 6236

Boucharfou, 4 mon.
Love! Love is a destiny We hardly choose the moment to love It happens one evening or one morning It happens by pure chance It leaves you confused and haggard One day when you least expect it You didn't see it coming from afar It happens in the blink of an eye... Without an appointment... It makes you soft... It makes you lose your mind... It makes you run away from home Like fire, it burns you with passion Love at first sight is legion You'll get your share, your ration Without logic... But it's beautiful despite everything we endure It's a pure feeling When it's sincere It's magical It's fantastic Despite its pains and sorrows, its sleepless nights Until morning It's the elixir of life It's endless ecstasy... It happens to you by magic... Content in loving takes you away from everything... It besieges you from everywhere! It takes over! It will drive you crazy sooner or later!!! Dr. Fouad Bouchareb El Medano / Tenerife August 24, 2025 Inspired by a text by Jalal Eddine Erroumi Arabic and Arabic All rights reserved

N’Djamena-Kousséri Half Marathon: A Message for the UN and Everyone Working for Peace in the World 6722

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.
Next September, more precisely on the 6th, an exceptional half marathon race will bring together the people of Kousséri, Cameroon, and N'Djamena, the capital of Chad. The athletes will start in front of the N’Djamena city hall and head towards Kousséri’s town hall, crossing the border between the two countries without any customs checkpoint or stop. On the contrary, authorities from both countries are collaborating to ensure that runners are supervised and secured on both sides under the best possible conditions. This will already be the third edition of this unprecedented race. This sporting event, largely sponsored by the African Athletics Confederation, goes beyond simple competition: it embodies a powerful symbol of rapprochement and reunification of the peoples of Central Africa, highlighting the deep human dimension of such an initiative. Indeed, the populations on both sides of the border share so much in common that this administrative boundary, a colonial legacy, cannot separate them. The strength of sport as a vector of unity is a slogan and a value we repeat on every occasion. But how many sporting events can truly embody it on the same scale as this unique race in the world? Sport, by its universal nature, has the rare power to transcend cultural, political, and social barriers. But here, this is the only sporting event where it transcends borders. In the border region between Cameroon and Chad, it is actually one and the same people who live here. Circumstances have made them two populations belonging to two different countries. On both sides of the border, people share history, traditions, and common challenges. In this context, which is not unique to this central African region, this half marathon represents far more than a simple endurance challenge. It is a bridge between communities often separated by artificial borders inherited from the colonial past. Running together, across spaces that connect these two neighboring cities, symbolizes the will to overcome historical divisions. Every step is an invitation to solidarity, mutual understanding, and the celebration of shared values such as respect, brotherhood, and peace. Kousséri and N'Djamena, though geographically close, have often been distanced by political tensions or administrative differences. But on the ground, in the heart of this race, the differences fade away. Runners, whether amateurs or professionals, from here or abroad since the race is international, share the same goal: moving forward together. This sporting initiative also allows the meeting of communities, families, youth, local leaders, and institutional actors from both countries. It encourages cultural, economic, and social exchanges, paving the way for more sustainable partnerships and regional stability. Here is a genuine message of hope for peace and reconciliation that the UN should hold up as an example, especially in the face of those who waste fortunes on endless conflicts. Examples are abundant... The Kousséri-N'Djamena half marathon sends a clear and inspiring message: despite borders and differences, it is possible to build human bridges, consolidate lasting peace based on mutual understanding and cooperation. In a world where ethnic and political conflicts often divide peoples, these moments of sporting gathering illustrate the power of dialogue and reconciliation. They express deep humanism, where each step taken on the ground is a step toward fraternization, toward rapprochement, toward a shared future. Beyond athletic performance, the half marathon between Kousséri and N'Djamena on September 6th is a true celebration of human unity. By bringing together peoples with close origins yet sometimes divided, it invites reflection on our ability to overcome the borders that separate us to prioritize what should unite us: brotherhood, peace, and hope for a better world. **The Human Dimension of Rapprochement and Reunification of Peoples finds a true embodiment in the N’Djamena-Kousséri Half Marathon, Bridge of Hope.** For those who understand, greetings.

Ley Lines: The Invisible Currents of Earth’s Sacred Geometry 6668

Tupan, 4 mon.
The concept of ley lines suggest the existence of invisible pathways of energy that crisscross the Earth, forming a network of subtle energy, ancient alignment, and spiritual resonance. Though the term “ley line” was first coined in 1921 by the English antiquarian Alfred Watkins (1855-1935)—who noticed that many ancient sites in the British landscape aligned along straight tracks—the concept is even older, echoing geomantic traditions across cultures that recognized the Earth as a living, breathing being with its own circulatory system of sacred force. Basically, ley lines are believed to be channels of Earth's energy—similar to meridians in Traditional Chinese Medicine (TCM)—which connect sites of spiritual, astronomical, and historical significance. These may include standing stones, megalithic temples, pyramids, cathedrals, burial mounds, and crossroads. In the East, these currents are known as dragon lines or "lung mei" in Chinese geomancy (feng shui), while in South America, the Inca referred to similar energetic pathways as "ceques", radiating outward from the Coricancha Temple in Cusco. From an esoteric standpoint, ley lines are neither arbitrary nor merely symbolic. They are understood to follow the electromagnetic shape of the planet—interacting with telluric currents, magnetic anomalies, and planetary grid systems. At certain points where multiple ley lines intersect, energy becomes concentrated, forming what are known as power nodes or vortex points. These nodes are believed to amplify consciousness, enhance ritual, facilitate spiritual contact, and sometimes thin the veil between the seen and unseen worlds. Places such as Stonehenge, the Giza Plateau, Machu Picchu, Glastonbury Tor, and Mount Shasta are frequently cited as residing on these potent intersections. Mystically, ley lines represent more than geological curiosity—they are conduits of planetary consciousness, arteries of Gaia herself. In Hermetic and occult traditions, the Earth is viewed as a macrocosmic body, complete with chakras, nadis, and energetic organs. Just as the human body channels prana through subtle pathways, so too does the Earth transmit vital energy through her leys. To walk these lines consciously, or to work magically upon them, is to participate in the planet’s own alchemical process—aligning human intention with terrestrial intelligence. In this context, the concept of ley lines resonates with the Gaia Theory, proposed by James Lovelock (1919–2022) and Lynn Margulis (1938–2011). This theory pictures Earth as a self-regulating, living system in which the biosphere, atmosphere, geosphere, and hydrosphere are deeply interconnected. Just as Gaia Theory suggests that the planet maintains balance through feedback loops, ley lines can be seen as subtle energetic channels through which this regulation occurs. From an esoteric perspective, these currents mirror Gaia’s own physiological processes—arteries circulating life-force and sustaining the interdependence of all beings within the planetary organism. Many practitioners of geomancy, dowsing, and ritual magick believe that ley lines can be activated or aligned through offerings, ceremonies, sound, and sacred architecture. Temples and churches built upon these lines often reflect celestial alignments, forming a harmony between heaven and earth. Some traditions hold that ancient initiates placed monuments at ley crossings not merely as markers, but as resonant structures designed to stabilize or modulate the flow of planetary energy. There is also a mythical and cosmological layer to ley line theory. In Arthurian legends, Glastonbury is not only a place on a map but a threshold to Avalon—an invisible world accessible through altered states or alignment with the land’s living current. In this way, ley lines serve as the nervous system of a planetary intelligence, a kind of spiritual cartography through which initiates navigate both terrestrial and cosmic realities. Though scientific consensus does not validate ley lines as measurable phenomena, their enduring presence in sacred geography, myth, and ritual suggests they function on a level beyond conventional empiricism. They invite the sensitive and the intuitive to perceive the Earth not as inert matter, but as a divine organism—alive, aware, and in communion with those who learn to walk her lines in reverence.

The Seven Chakras: A Metaphysical Anatomy of the Soul 8005

Tupan, 4 mon.
Throughout the ages, esoteric traditions, yogic sciences, and mystical philosophies have described the human being as more than flesh and bone—as an energetic organism with subtle centers of power, perception, and spiritual potential. Among these systems, the doctrine of the seven chakras stands as one of the most refined and symbolically rich models of inner transformation. These chakras—meaning “wheels” in Sanskrit—are vortexes of energy located along the body axis, each responsible for specific aspects of consciousness, physiology, and spiritual evolution. From the densest energies of survival to the most ethereal states of divine union, the chakras form a ladder of ascent, guiding the soul towards enlightenment. The Root Chakra (Muladhara), located at the base of the spine, is the foundation of the entire energetic system. It governs physical survival, grounding, and the instinct for self-preservation. Associated with the element earth, it links the individual to the material world and the ancestral lineage. When balanced, it grants stability, trust, and a strong connection to one's body and environment. When blocked or deficient, it manifests as fear, insecurity, or disconnection from the physical plane. Spiritually, Muladhara represents the coiled energy of potential—the kundalini—awaiting its ascent through the higher centers. The Sacral Chakra (Svadhisthana), situated just below the navel, is linked to creativity, sexuality, and emotional fluidity. Associated with the element water, it reflects the soul's capacity to feel, to relate, and to generate life—physically, artistically, or spiritually. It is the seat of desire, pleasure, and procreation, and its energy is relational, connecting the self to others through intimacy and shared experience. When in harmony, it allows the free expression of emotion and creative force. When imbalanced, it may result in emotional instability, guilt, or addictive tendencies. Svadhisthana is where passion and refinement meet. The Solar Plexus Chakra (Manipura) is the center of personal power, will, and self-definition. Aligned with the element fire, it is related to transformation, ambition, and the assertion of the individual will. It is through Manipura that one develops a clear sense of identity and the strength to act upon purpose. When balanced, this chakra radiates confidence, motivation, and integrity. An excess may produce domination or pride, while deficiency results in passivity or low self-worth. Spiritually, Manipura is the alchemical forge where ego begins to be disciplined and transmuted into conscious intention. The Heart Chakra (Anahata) is the gateway between the lower and upper chakras, and the center of unconditional love, compassion, and spiritual empathy. Associated with the element air, it expands the sense of self to include others, fostering connection, forgiveness, and inner peace. An open Anahata transcends personal desire and embraces unity, allowing one to love without attachment and to serve without self-interest. Imbalances may manifest as emotional coldness, grief, or over-dependence. Spiritually, this chakra is the sacred rose of divine love, unfolding toward the eternal. The Throat Chakra (Vishuddha) governs expression, communication, and the power of the word. Linked to the element ether (or sound), it represents the capacity to speak truth and to manifest thought into form through language. It is also the seat of inner listening and alignment between inner truth and outer expression. When open and balanced, Vishuddha enables authentic speech and artistic expression. When blocked, it may result in silence, dishonesty, or miscommunication. At the spiritual level, it is through this center that the magician, mystic, or initiate learns to wield the sacred word—the logos—as an instrument of transformation. The Third Eye Chakra (Ajna), positioned between the eyebrows, is the seat of inner vision, intuition, and higher perception. It transcends rational analysis and opens the gates to symbolic insight, dreams, and clairvoyant awareness. Associated with the light element or pure mind, it integrates the polarities of logic and imagination, allowing one to perceive patterns, archetypes, and spiritual truths. A balanced Ajna chakra produces clarity, insight, and an awakened inner compass. Imbalance may cause delusion, fantasy, or disconnection from reality. Mystically, Ajna is the eye of the soul, through which one perceives the invisible architecture of the cosmos. The Crown Chakra (Sahasrara), located at the top of the head, is the highest center of consciousness, representing union with the Divine, cosmic intelligence, and spiritual liberation. Unlike the other chakras, Sahasrara is not governed by an element but by pure consciousness—chit—itself. It is symbolized by a thousand-petaled lotus, forever unfolding into infinity. When this chakra is fully awakened, the individual transcends ego and merges with universal will, experiencing profound bliss, silence, and liberation. Imbalances may manifest as spiritual disconnection, nihilism, or excessive intellectualism. At its highest vibration, Sahasrara is not a center of power but a doorway to the return to the Source. Together, the seven chakras form a living mandala of human potential. They are not merely energetic centers but evolutionary thresholds, each inviting the soul to purify, awaken, and integrate aspects of the self on its path toward unity with the divine. When harmonized, these chakras become a ladder of light—a sacred ascent from survival to transcendence, from matter to spirit. The awakening of the chakras is thus not an end in itself, but a means of returning to wholeness, where the human becomes a conscious expression of the infinite.

Genesis... 10475

Aziz Daouda, 4 mon.
I greatly enjoy looking out windows, any windows. Windows have always offered me a picture of life. A picture that constantly changes, a picture that I alone see before it disappears forever. Maybe that is where my taste for the ephemeral comes from. It is my only certainty. What I am also sure of is that it comes from the fact that as a baby and young child, my mother would place me by the window where I would hold onto a grille. An opportunity to be both inside and outside at the same time and to let her go about her many responsibilities as a housewife. It was a traditional Moroccan grille, typical of ours. Today, I have reused that same grille design on the windows and balconies of my house. I have in fact remained my mother’s eternal child, no doubt like we all remain so, but probably differently, otherwise, uniquely. The window is an escape from the cramped space of the house. In fact, all houses are cramped. The house, paradoxically despite its smallness, is a space of freedom, intimacy, and security. It is also a space that distances the horizon and makes it sublime. The window allowed me to raise my head and look far. As far as this window allowed me to see. The house cultivates the dream; the window waters it. On the evening my mother passed away, I stood by the window. It seemed to me I heard her voice again speaking from afar to reassure me. My mother loved me very much. She did not say it, but made me feel it through the tone of her voice, her gaze, and a slight smile at the corner of her lips. A smile she had a special secret to. My mother’s smile was genetic. I clearly saw she inherited it from my grandmother—Cherifa Lalla Zhour had the same smile. My mother was not expansive. She extended her love to my children later, and I felt it. I was her eldest, her first female experience, her first pains, her first childbirth, the first baby cry to her ears. I owe my mother much: the sensation of a pencil in hand, the touch of the softness of paper before writing on it, the taste for reading and the pleasure of manual work. My mother was among the first classes of the modern school in Fès. My maternal grandfather, Si Ahmed Ben Ali, had the wisdom to send her to school against the opinion of people at the time—family, neighbors, and onlookers. She traveled a long distance from Saqaet El Abbassyine to her school. It was in Fès j’did, a neighborhood of great nationalists, intellectuals, artists, and state clerks: Bahnini, Benbouchta, Moulay Ahmed El Alaoui, Ahmed Chajai, and many others. It is the stronghold of Wydad of Fès. I have many wonderful memories of Saqaet El Abbassyine. From time to time, I go for a walk there to recharge myself. The dilapidation of Bab Riafa, the sad passage by Lalla Ghriba to reach Saqaet El Abbassyine, the continuation by Sidi Hmama to arrive at Qobt Assouk, saddens me every time. So, to soothe my pain and sorrow, I go and sit at Bab Boujloud to enjoy a good glass of tea prepared in a traditional samovar, under the famous mulberry tree. The magic of Fès is unmatched. My father, on the other hand, was affection in the absolute. The exemplary man. The man who forged my pride and committed my life to serving the country. Moroccan at heart, attached to the land of his ancestors. Proud to have been an active nationalist against the protectorate. He spoke of his people’s struggle against French soldiers. He kept fresh memories of the fights of Bou Gafer and the brave battle of his people. He was happy to have served his country but also disappointed with the evolution of some things. He said that we were losing our soul with the decline of our attachment to ancestral values; remembered by all the families of old Rabat who still recall him for having treated their children and eased their pains. He passed away certain that Morocco could have done better. He remained attached to his parents and adored them, attached to his native land that he visited every year, attached to his people to whom he offered land to expand the Sidi Daoud cemetery, his forever village, today swallowed by a soulless Ouarzazate. I am not surprised. My father is a direct descendant of Sidi Daoud, a Sufi Sheikh and great scholar who left many works including the famous *Oumahat Al Wataeq, Al Mountafaa Bih Fi Anawazil*. My father loved Rabat and its beach. It was there he saw the sea for the first time in his life, coming from the other side of the Great Atlas, which climate change is now altering. It was at the Rabat beach that he learned to swim. Today, his grave overlooks that beautiful beach and ocean. His resting place is bathed in the sea air that blows continuously over the hilltop, the final abode of thousands of souls at rest, of lives both rich and less rich, and of memories forever lost. The cemetery tells a lot about the place we give to our dead, and it does not speak well of us. So, like my brothers and sisters—Jalil, Moughni, Rajae, Atika, Abdelmoutaleb, Elhoussein, Soumaya, I am a kind of accident of nature. A father from Ouarzazate marrying a girl from Fès; that was rare. It was 1950. The maternity hospital where my lungs filled for the first time with air and where I cried out announcing my coming to life is still there. It was Tuesday, 11:37 am, May 15, 1951. Each time I pass by, something brings me back to memories I have created from my mother's stories. I see again her pride and my father's joy at my birth. By chance, on the way to bury my mother, and years later my father, we passed along the Almohad wall. The historic maternity hospital of Rabat is just behind. The circle was thus completed. My mother's name was Lalla Amina Makhloufi and my father’s Ahmed Belhoucine El Ouarzazi. The civil registry attendant gave him the surname Daouda, probably because he was born in Sidi Daoud or simply because that person had been influenced by a stay in sub-Saharan Africa...

The Sevenfold Constitution of the Human Being 14082

Tupan, 4 mon.
Several esoteric traditions believe that the human being is not limited to a single body of flesh and blood, but instead exists as a amalgam of seven interpenetrating bodies, each vibrating at a distinct frequency and corresponding to a unique level of consciousness. This constitution in layers forms a bridge between the material and the divine, mapping the soul’s descent into matter and its potential ascent back to the source. The physical body is the most tangible and material of the seven. It serves as the vessel through which the soul experiences the physical world, bound by the laws of biology, space, and time. It is composed of flesh, bone, and matter, but it does not exist in isolation. Its vitality is sustained by subtle forces, and without these, it would be inert. The physical body is the site of sensation and action, allowing the soul to manifest its will within the temporal realm. The etheric body, also known as the vital or pranic body, underlies and interpenetrates the physical form. It is made of subtle life-energy and functions as the blueprint or energetic matrix that maintains the structure and function of the material body. It is through this body that prana, chi, or life-force flows, animating tissues, regulating health, and forming the auric field sometimes noticed by those with psychic sensitivity. It connects the material to the immaterial, serving as a bridge between body and soul. The astral body governs emotion, desire, and imagination. It is the seat of passions, instincts, and inner images, and it serves as the vehicle for dreams and psychic experiences. This is the body that travels in the dream state or in altered states of consciousness and is central to experiences of astral projection. It has a more fluid consistence than that of the etheric, and it responds instantly to emotional impulses, making it the most volatile and reactive of the subtle bodies. The mental body is the domain of thought, cognition, and reason. It is often divided into two components: the lower mental body, which takes part in concrete thinking, memory, and logic, and the higher mental body, which perceives abstract truths, archetypes, and universal principles. Through the mental body, we develop self-awareness, belief systems, and discernment. It is through the improvement of this body that the ego begins to dissolve, allowing thought to serve truth rather than self-interest. The causal body, or buddhic body, contains the soul’s higher wisdom and accumulated experience. It is the vessel of intuition, compassion, and non-dual perception. This body exists beyond linear time and holds the karmic imprint of previous incarnations—the lessons learned and the spiritual tendencies cultivated. It is the realm of inner guidance and soul purpose, allowing the being to act from harmony rather than reaction, and to notice unity where the lower mind sees separation. The spiritual body, or atmic body, represents the divine will and the soul's alignment with cosmic purpose. It is the seat of spiritual volition—not personal desire, but the execution of the higher law. This is the level of mastery where individual will is surrendered to divine intention, and where the soul becomes a conscious co-creator with the universal intelligence. Those who access this body operate from a plane of deep inner sovereignty and radiant stillness, often manifesting profound spiritual authority. At the highest level lies the monadic body—the pure spark of divinity, the eternal self, the undivided essence from which all the other bodies emanate. The Monad is beyond all form and function, untouched by time, death, or individuality. It is the source of all consciousness within the being and the point of union with the Absolute. Realization of the Monad is the apex of spiritual evolution, where the soul transcends all identities and merges into the infinite. It is the return to the One, the reintegration of the many into the indivisible light of origin. In most human beings, these bodies remain partially dormant or fragmented. The great work of spiritual initiation is to harmonize and awaken each body, gradually purifying the lower vehicles and aligning the consciousness to subtler vibrations. Practices such as ritual, meditation, prayer, alchemy, asceticism, and sacred study serve to align these bodies and bring them under the guidance of the Monad. As one ascends the inner planes, perception shifts from the senses to symbols, then to pure archetypes, and finally to the formless light of the divine. The path is not linear but spiral—each cycle of refinement bringing the soul closer to its origin and its infinite potential.

Understanding. 14082

EL MONO MAS GRANDE, 4 mon.
The food had just arrived, a bucket of figs, submerged in cool water to shield them from the heat, when the boy entered the narrow street. Confused and burning with anger, he broke the peace that had settled over the biggest ape. “Come here,” said the biggest ape, voice low and firm. He reached into the water and extended the boy a fig. “Take this.” “I don't understand...” the boy muttered, lowering himself onto the carpet. Grief and rage glowing through his eyes. “You can have more,” answered the biggest ape. A long pause followed. The ape measured every words carefully as the boy's tears drew sharp lines across his face. “Listen,” he said at last. “To understand life, you must see death. To understand light, you must see darkness. To understand justice, you must see injustice.” The biggest ape then ran a single finger across the still surface of the water, the motion briefly parting it into two. They ate in silence. In the distance, a ship was leaving the harbor, its sails taut with wind, its trail splitting the ocean. *Such is the nature of understanding: fleeting borders in the mind of God.*