 Hello you guys, welcome to part nine of our reading of the Return of the Divine, Sophia. Today we are going to be reading chapter 12, which on my book is on page 228. As always, if this is your first time on this channel, welcome. There is a link to the full playlist down in the description box below. Alright, chapter 12, the goddess and the descent into the underworld. I am the single radiance by which all is aroused and within which it is vibrant. For the man who has found me, the door to all things stands open. I am the magnetic force of the universal presence and the ceaseless ripple of its smile. I returned to the goddess circle on Monday, March 23rd. It was the spring equinox and the weather was truly splendid. A sweet breeze blew through the city and I could almost smell the fresh grass rising from the earth, even in my walks around the city park that lay only two blocks from my midtown house. She must have lived near me when in Atlanta, I lived near Piedmont Park, which is like right there in the town. I had taken Shasta's admonitions seriously to spend more time in nature. So several days a week I took walks through Piedmont Park, Atlanta Central Park, right where I live. I had acres of rolling hills and oak trees in a huge lake that attracted Canadian geese and ducks, although that lake is fake and it smells really bad most of the time like it stinks. I had found that the walks gave me time to think about the deeper things at the center of my life and when I stopped to meditate beneath the grandmother oaks, a sense of stillness would come over me that made it easy to hear my spirit guides. It was often Rigel's voice that spoke to me not Ariel's and I found myself reflecting on my attachment to God and its masculine form. Sometimes I wasn't sure how to relate to the Divine Mother for I had never been taught to do so. I think we all struggle with that. That morning of the spring equinox was glorious. Our group of women met outside in the grove and Shasta took us through all the many winding paths of the lower and higher gardens pointing out the numerous symbols of spring. There was a statue of a painted mother goose and her little family of chicks hidden among the young grasses, a family of stone bunnies and a pastel Easter egg tucked beneath fallen locks. Statues of the goddesses and her many sacred forms graced the grove and a long garlands of flowers swung from the branches while the whole world seemed to quiver from the radiance of new life. At about 11 o'clock, the women settled on the benches and the chairs and the old gliding swing in one of the groves, many nooks and crannies. Each spring, as Shasta began, we celebrate the vernal equinox. This is the time when the day and night are of equal lengths and in the goddess teaching this is the moment when Persephone returns from the underworld and Aphrodite comes back from the waters of the deep. It is also the season when the animals begin to mate and when the birds begin to sing the songs that simulate the growth of all living things. This is also the season when the great solar lords like Adonis, Addis Mithra, Jesus and Timus were reborn. Easter I thought. Of course, the time of resurrection. As Shasta spoke, I found myself wondering if there was also a myth about the resurrection of the goddess. Spring is the season of the youth or the maiden, the rebirth of Mother Earth and the green god of renewal. From this time onward, the sun grows stronger until we reach the summer solstice. The longest day of the year. Six weeks later, we celebrate Lugnashta, the feast day of the goddess. The high holy day was dedicated to Demeter, Isis and is the feast of the fruits and the flowers. Shasta went on because it's spring. Today I want to share with you some of the tales of those who have descended into the underworld and returned to the light. We know this through Jesus, but there are other heroes or heroines who took part in the earlier ages. As I recount these stories, I want you to consider that these tales are both truth and allegory. For many have gone into the depths of hell to find their love, to save their world or to be reborn. In the ancient world, we find this in the story of Orpheus, the famous harpist who was the founder of the Orphanic mysteries that predate the Elysian mysteries of ancient Greece. Orpheus goes in search of his beloved wife, Eurydice, who parishes on their wedding day. Following her into Hades, Orpheus plays his celestial music for the king of hell and his songs are so beautiful that Hades, the king of hell, has moved to tears. He agrees to release Orpheus' wife but only on one condition. Orpheus cannot gaze upon her until they have reached the mortal plane. He resists this temptation despite her piteous cries but at the last possible moment Orpheus turns and when he does he loses her forever. I see a lot of these stories as pure allegory because we literally go through our own hell on earth that's in our mind and our thoughts and our suffering and it is only through that hell, through that darkness or that friction that we can then find the light. What was the spiritual significance of this story? I wondered but before I could ask Shostek continued, the Orphic mysteries were one of many mystery schools across the ancient world that taught about the many places of dimensional reality and how the sound underlying principle that governs all world is. I nodded. This was like the teaching of the Varagi masters I thought who taught the wisdom of the audible lifestream which again, are you Vedic? The three principles of our are you Vedic medicine, our breath, food and vibration or sound. This underlying sound of permeates the universe, she said and is the divine mother existing in the hearts of all things. It is a sound which all beings can commune and it is linked to the Holy Spirit, the daughter principle of God. This was interesting. What did she mean the daughter principle? Shostek went on, but the stories of heroes who save a person, a city or a world are not just confined to men. They can also be found in the story of Psyche, the girl who was loved by a God and who ascended into heaven. Do any of you know this tale? Several of the women shook their head. I remembered something about Psyche and Cupid from Greek myth, but the details were hazy. Like the tales of Persephone, Shostek said, Psyche's tale has often been misunderstood. Psyche was a beautiful woman who some said was more beautiful than Aphrodite herself. She is of course the goddess in her human or mortal form unable to find a make worthy of her. When her village is being ravaged by fire-breathing dragon, Psyche volunteers to sacrifice herself so that her village might be saved. She is escorted by the town's constables and left in chains to die on a mountainside, but Cupid, or Eros, the son of Aphrodite, accidentally pricks his finger on one of his own arrows and falls madly in love with her. Unwilling to see her perish, Eros frees Psyche from her chains and whisk her away to his place in the clouds. Here the God Eros symbolizes the saving grace of unconditional love and his kingdom is neither in heaven nor on earth, but lies somewhere in between. Eros leaves Psyche in his place to be waited on by invisible servants. He orders that she be lavished with all the manner of luxuries, but he only comes to visit her at night to make love. Eros one request is that Psyche not look upon him directly, for he is afraid the illumination of his continence would blind her. This was getting interesting now, love, romance, immortal gods, and now sex. But eventually, Psyche's two sisters discover that she is alive and jealous of her good fortune. They urge her to find out whether she is sleeping with a god or a monster. Eventually, Psyche succumbs to her sister's dowse and likes a candle to look upon her lover's face as Eros lies sleeping. There she beholds the most beautiful young man she has ever seen, the god of love himself. But in her haste, she spills three beads of hot wax on the covers and cupid awakens. Horrified that she has broken her vow, Eros tells her that they must now be parted forever. Psyche is heartbroken. She also looks around the circle at our wrapped faces. Well, what happens next? Realizing that her own fears and doubts have sabotaged her sacred marriage. Psyche prays to the gods and goddesses for grace. That's what I say when I mean I feel like these stories are really allegories. Let me read that again. Realizing her own fears and doubts have sabotaged her sacred marriage. Psyche prays to the gods and goddesses for grace. In our 30 day challenge that we're currently running on this channel, there is a day where I ask you where you have sabotaged yourself, where you allow your fears to override your faith. And this is a great metaphor story about that. Aphrodite cupid's mother decrees that this grace can only be accorded if Psyche undertakes and completes a series of four impossible tasks. Heartbroken Psyche decides to accept this challenge. She enters to a long series of tasks that can only be accomplished by going to the underworld and facing her shadow, working on herself. Eventually through many tribulations, Psyche triumphs but only with the assistance of Mother Nature. The Holy Spirit recognizes Psyche's divine nature, even though Psyche does not remember it. And the Mother Nature sends assistance to help her accomplish her many seemingly impossible tasks. Psyche eventually completes her labors and is granted access to heaven, becoming an immortal herself. Wow. So Psyche represents the purest aspect of us all, the divine part that can be saved through the intervention of God's true love. But even that is not enough. Ultimately, Psyche must connect with her own spiritual powers and personal will to find her way back to heaven. Shasta explained, like all human beings, Psyche is immortal who has forgotten who she is because her heart is full of beauty and love. She earns the grace of divine love. Yet it is only through her own efforts and generosity of Mother Earth that Psyche is able to find her love again and reclaim her place in heaven. Place in the context of these mysteries, which often use myth, parable, and metaphor to convey spiritual truths, this simple story finally makes sense. Meg and Sharon were nodding their heads too. Shasta allowed us a few minutes to share our thoughts, then she proceeded to elaborate. While Psyche's tale is an important one, there is an even more enduring legend that I wish to share with you today about the descent of the Queen of Heaven into the underworld. This is the tale of Ishtar and Tammuz, and it was one of the earliest stories in the mystery schools of Ishtar. For Ishtar and Tammuz are the first telling of the story of Romeo and Juliet. The little that I knew about Ishtar came from my investigations into the Old Testament. I knew she was the goddess of love, war, and fertility, and her husband, or love, had been Tammuz. I also remember that Ishtar had been one of the three goddesses who had appeared to me so long ago, so I was curious to hear her tale. Shasta began, Ishtar was one of the great queens of heaven, the granddaughter of Elio, King of the Gods. Tammuz was a noble shepherd king who at first brought the teaching of animal husbandry to mankind. Both of them were royalty from long-lived race of Anunnaki gods who ceded this planet thousands of years ago. The Anunnaki, or Anakim as they were known in the Bible, were also called the shining ones because they're light skin and hair. Their skin actually glows with light from within while some of the gods were more selfish or egocentrically ornated. Tammuz was not. He was a kindly minstrel, poet, and shepherd, and noble king who was associated with the Tree of Life. He was also known as Damuzi and it is said that he is he ruled in Mesopotamia for some 40,000 years. Tammuz taught the arts of animal husbandry to mankind and was deeply loved by all who knew because Ishtar and Tammuz were from different sides of beauty factions within the ranks of the gods. Their love was not only unexpected but for a long period of courting they gained permission from their rival families to marry. I could see that Shasta was now warming to this legend. I also want to say the Anunnaki are both good and bad. So I think a lot of us have been under the idea that the Anunnaki were bad but they're both good and bad like humans. Shasta went on, but one day while hunting, Tammuz was gored by a wild boar and died. This meant that Tammuz was forced to descend into the underworld. Overcome by grief, Ishtar decided to follow Tammuz in the Hades knowing that such a journey might cost her her life. Telling only her sister where she was going, Ishtar began her perilous descent but to reach Hades she had to pass through the seven gates of hell and at each gate she was forced to give away part of her divine power. When she arrived at the first gate, the guardian recognized her immediately and greeted her by saying, Hail Ishtar Queen of Heaven, what are you doing here? You are not dead and you have not died. You have no need to go into the underworld. But Ishtar bowed and addressed the guardian with respect. Brave gatekeeper, I have come to find my beloved Tammuz. He has died and left the cities of heaven. Have you seen him? Has he passed this way? The gatekeeper nodded, yes, but I cannot permit you to pass while you still wear your DM of sacred illumination. He was talking about her crown, the crown that had let her see into the other worlds. Slowly Ishtar reached up and took off her DM. Gladly I will give her the crown of heaven for the sake of love, she murmured. Then you may pass, the gatekeeper said, bowing as he let her by. At the second gate, Ishtar was greeted by the next guardian and this time the gatekeeper ordered her to give up her necklace of speech. This was not the power to speak as mortals do, but the power to command creation with one word. Once again, Ishtar yielded up her powers for the sake of love. At the third gate, Ishtar was asked to surrender her bracelets of manifestation, the golden wristbands that allowed her to manifest her heart's desire, inclining her head in submission. She took off her golden bands and passed through. Then at the fourth gate, Ishtar was asked to surrender her bejeweled girdle, which amplified the powers of her third chakra. I was about to say, I feel like these seven points of the underworld are actually the cleaning of your chakras. Just my thoughts on the matter. It was probably about like Wonder Woman, Claudia Giggled, and we all laughed, totally caught up in the story. Maybe this was where Wonder Woman's magic belt had come from, I reflected. Maybe our comic book heroes had attributes that were taken from these earlier myths. At the fifth gate, Ishtar was made to yield her royal scepter, the means through which she could command the elements. At the sixth gate, she relinquished her sandals, the golden shoes that gave her the power to fly. Finally at the seventh gate, Ishtar was asked to surrender the golden tumic that made her impervious to death. Thus naked and alone, Ishtar arrived in the underworld, naked, mortal, and completely vulnerable. Which when we do shadow work, we are naked and completely vulnerable. Not literally naked, but we feel pretty naked because we have to be honest and we have to be vulnerable. So that makes sense. We all took a breath. Was this a story about us, about immortal souls who arrived on earth without any protection or powers feeling completely naked and alone? Shots went on. Now one of the things that happens when people come into the underworld is that they begin to lose their memories. Just as souls do when we are born on earth. So Ishtar knew that she had little time to locate Tamuz or she would forget her purpose. Give me some chill box here. I don't know about you guys, but it's powerful. At last she found that he was being held prisoner by Erich Kahl, the queen of the underworld. This is where Ishtar is jealous. This was Ishtar's jealous half sister and there had long been a rivalry between these two queens because one ruled the realm of light while the other ruled the kingdom of shadows. When Ishtar found Tamuz's presence, she implored the guard to release him. But the jailer refused for fear that he would be punished by Erich or I cannot say this name, Erich Kahl, her half sister. Then please let me see how Ishtar begged or at least you can do that. The guard agreed, letting her into the dark prison where Tamuz was locked in a lonely cell. Ishtar threw herself across the prison bars crying, Tamuz, Tamuz, I have found you. The young king stood up and came to the bars to meet this lovely lady, but he no longer recognized her. He looked at her through the prison bars and saw she was beautiful, kind, and loving. And there was something familiar about her, but he could not remember who she was. Tamuz felt a strange longing rise within his chest and tears came into his eyes. Forgive me, lady. He said, placing his hands on hers through the prison bar, I feel the stirrings of my heart, but I do not know where we have met. I know that I am feeling love, but I do not know who it is that I am loving. His kind eyes seem to melt her heart. I think we've all had that experience before where we need someone but we can't remember exactly how we know them. Was it possible that he had really forgotten who she was? She wondered how could this happen? Ishtar remembered that when those souls lost their memories when they came to this land, I am your wife, your sweetheart, your soulmate. Don't you remember me, my love? Meaning the underworld is basically Earth, you guys. I hope you figured that out. This is hell. We're in hell right now, guys. There's only way out is up, right? So the prince gazed deeply into her eyes. I'm sorry, lady. I do not. Your face is the one I have seen in my dreams, but I cannot remember who you are. This was too much for Ishtar. Tears spilled down her cheeks until she could barely see. Tamuz, you must remember. You were lost and now you are found. The prince placed a hand upon his heart. Lady, I know that I am lost, but I no longer remember where my home is. Ishtar wept. Your home is in heaven, my love, and you must leave the prison now before it is too late. Tamuz looked regretful. I have no power to leave here on my own. Only the queen of shadows can release me now. Ishtar could not believe her ears. This is giving me like chill bumps, guys. Tamuz had forgotten his own divine nature and did not know he came from heaven. He was trapped in the world of amnesia and shadows. Slowly Ishtar wiped her eyes. Then I will do it for you, she cried. I know who you are and you must awaken from this dream. She laced her fingers into him and kissed his lips. For a long moment something stirred inside him and then it was gone. Until I return my love, she promised do not forget me. I will return. I promise. The garden in the circle of women had become very quiet as if even the animals were listening to her story. We were all there in the underworld prison with Ishtar and it seemed all too real to me. The love, the longing, the forgetting, I knew them all too well. I had been there in many relationships hoping to save the man I loved from the pain of his own making. Shasta continued. So Ishtar traveled to the place of the Queen of Shadows who sat upon her throne with her red flames burning all around her. Couriers dressed in black glided to and fro in the great hall as Ishtar waited for an audience. At last she summoned, she was summoned before Eric, Eric she called her half sister wearing only a robe that the stewards of the court had given her to hide her nakedness. But now Ishtar had begun to lose her own memory so all she could remember was that she had come to free her beloved soulmate Tamuz. Ishtar knelt before the Queen's dark throne and bowed, your majesty. Rise seeing that her half hated half sister was before her for the first time in submission. Why have you come to the underworld? Why are you here? Ishtar raised her chin. I have come to ask that you release Tamuz from prison. That's all I can remember. That's all I know. Eric she called realized that then at her half sister Ishtar had succumbed to the same amnesia that grips even the immortals who enter the world of light and shadows. Ishtar was completely in her power. This was going to be delightful to finally torture her overconfident sister and what would and what if I do not release him. You have no power in this land. What are you going to do about it? Bravely Ishtar lifted her chin and answered better to remain on earth where love is than to return to heaven where love is not. This was the last thing that Eric she all had expected. Was Ishtar saying that she would rather remain in the world of shadows than to reign in heaven? That Ishtar would give up her power for the sake of love? This was not the way that Eric Shaw remembered her proud sister. Yes there was love in our land even though you had to look for it. There were birds and flowers life and beauty even though the immortals did not often come here. If Ishtar could see beauty in the simple creatures of earth and perhaps Eric Shaw had misjudged her after all. The queen rose from her chair and began to give her famous speech. Blessed are those who love my sweet earth, who love the clear running water the smell of fresh soil, the grace of the stag and the majesty of the lion. Blessed are those who can see the divine beauty in all nature and who know there is no separation from heaven. Eric Shaw lifted her arms and gave Ishtar back her memory. Suddenly Ishtar realized where she was and who she was kneeling before. She rose to her feet and opened her arms and welcome. Come my sweet sister I embrace you as myself. The two sisters came together in understanding two aspects of the great mother who encompasses all things. The light and the dark were returned to balance and the lovers were reunited in sacred union returning to heaven in celebration love. When Shasta finished no one spoke I reached out to discover that there were tears on my cheeks. How had they gotten there? Why had that story affected me so powerfully? I didn't know I realized then that many of us had been holding our breath. Maybe I was crying because this was the story of my mother's life and of my own the story of all of us in fact. We all came from the heavenly world vulnerable and alone. We are stripped of our memories and our powers and begin to search for love only to lose it again and again. We find a person we can connect with here or there but we can't seem to recall who they are or who we are to one another. We feel trapped in the worlds of illusion and we can't remember how to get out and when our loved ones are in trouble we throw ourselves into helping them get out of hell even at the risk of becoming completely mirrored in the darkness ourselves. Finally if we are lucky we wake up before it's too late and sometimes the person who we love the person who is trapped gets to go free as well. I wiped another set of tears away unable to get rid of the lump in my throat. This seemed like the story of my own wonderful mother who had gone to hell to rescue my father from alcoholism. It was also the story of my brave sister who was coping with a bipolar son she had tried to rescue again and again and the story of my cousin who had spent years taking care of her paraplegic husband who emotionally abused her and if I was honest I had seen this pattern played out once or twice in my own life as well with men I had tried to save. As I glanced around this circle I could see that the other women were similarly affected. No one wanted to break the spell by speaking. Shasta rose to her feet. Today we want to create a healing ceremony for all the wounded warriors of the world lost in darkness of their pain or suffering. Many of these whether male or female are still locked in the prison of shadow. Let us awaken the sleepers from their cells and pray for their release today. We rose to our feet as one and without words we each picked up a guarded rattle. Shasta lifted her drum finding the rhythm and time with our hearts and then the song from the musical artist Sophia began. May the warriors find peace within that the wars of the nation's end send the love and light into earth that the world may find complete rebirth. Let the suffering of the nation's end that the healing of the earth can begin. We danced our way through all the trails of the garden following the many twists and turns. This was like our own courteous path to God I thought full of the good the bad in the tragic and as the song's sake into each one of our hearts it seems as if we were singing for all the suffering of the world. I thought about all the people who are trapped and bondaged either by their own choice or through circumstances beyond their control. I thought of the wounded warriors who like my father had fought in two world wars and paid the price and because the pain was too great had been fallen into depression, anger, alcoholism and despair and it was not only the centuries of suffering soldiers who had maimed and killed each other in battle all in name of religious glory it was also the dualistic mindset of the politicians and generals who believed that confrontation war destruction and aggression were the only way that life could be lived. Whether good men with good intentions or fanatics these people had been conditioned to believe that the world was a place where fear dominated where fear domination and horror had to reign. Those who were different from ourselves for something to be defeated against or attacked nature was an obstacle to be conquered and subdued. Animals, forests and people were merely commodities to be sacrificed and a winner takes all scenario. In the end everybody lost. The soldiers, the wives, the children, the civilians and the earth herself that became polluted with bombs and bullets and fires and grenades. This was the price of the patriarchal system we had put in place. In our world a paradigm of struggle which did not honor the living spirit inside all things. Stepping back from the picture over the next six weeks I continued to think about what I had learned so far. First I could see how the great mother had been splintering into a thousand pieces and how each aspect of the goddess I was learning about seemed to reflect a part of the whole. I reflected on the tales of Psyche, I reflected on the tales of Psyche and Eros, Ishtar and Tammuz and how both Psyche and Tammuz had forgotten their own divine origins when they were imprisoned in the world of shadows. I realized that this was a metaphor for each one of us who has forgotten our true identities as immortal souls. These tales were about rescuing some parts of ourselves that had fallen into forgetfulness in the land of shadows and I realized that these stories had endured for centuries because they had the power to unlock a treasure chest of wisdom if only I could penetrate them. I reflected on the wounded warriors perhaps because I had known so many in my life. This was the hero archetype who suffers in silence because he has been conditioned to believe that he must be relentlessly stoic. Suppressing his feminine side he buries his deeper emotions to gain victory in a win-lose dynamic that seeks to destroy the competition at all costs. He is the relentless, unkilled warrior men who have come to emulate but at what costs the people who love them and to love themselves. What have these warriors sacrificed in their own hearts by adopting these models of self-righteous suffering, their families, their health, their peace of mind by going too far into the masculine polarity we sacrifice our ability to live happy emotionally loving lives. This is the path taken by many within the Jewish Muslim and Christian religions who have used their self-righteousness, aggressive stances to target demonize and vanquish their enemies. When I thought about all the millions of women children and families who have been casualty of this dominance model of fear and hardship even if a man who was not abusive to his wife and children he bore the emotional scars of his war inside not to mention the crippling loss of his body parts. Is human freedom worth fighting for? Of course it is but to be a pawn in the quest for corporate gain, control, money or religious ideology or religious ideology these motives have been used by politicians, popes and inmates for century to justify their wars all in the name of righteous glory and patriotism. I wonder just how quickly these wars would be over if the people who decided them had been put on the front lines instead of their sons and daughters. After the healing ceremony that afternoon Shasta had asked each of us to make a list of our own battles and wars as well as the ways in which our religious programming had contributed to the win-lose dynamic. While I could see this kind of black and white judgment in our own governments and religions on a personal front I wasn't sure what she was talking about. The women in this group all wanted to help the earth. Shasta had smiled tolerantly when I raised my hand in protest. Just considers the ways in which you are also committed to this win-lose dynamic in your own life. She said, the ways in which you are negatively competitive with others because you too have been programmed by the patriarchy. Maybe she had a point. I could think of a few examples where my desire to win had made me insensitive to others. Maybe this is what she meant. But is it competition a good thing? Alex protested. I mean sports are fun. We compete baseball and football on the Olympics. That's not bad is it? Shasta looks serious. I'm not speaking about friendly competition. That is healthy and fun. Friendly competition gives us a yardstick to learn discipline, goal-setting, and excellence. But it does not work when we view the competition as the enemy. The real enemy we must conquer lies within ourselves, not in our brother's backyard. Let me read that again. The real enemy we must conquer lies within ourselves, not in our brother's backyard. As I turned this over in my mind I tried to see the world with lies. I finally realized that the source of most of our rivalries is this sense of jealousy and negative competition. Women fight over men. Men kill over property, money, and women. And the television often seems caught in an endless loop of extolling the virtues of deceit and betrayal as it programming us to think that this is all normal. How many detective shows were there on television all focused on murder, violence, and its dominance model of heroes and villains? Children were being programmed in an early age to accept violence, aggression, and bullying as commonplace. No wonder the violence level in schools has increased. We were teaching our children that this was normal. While I knew the competition would be a healthy outlet for the drive for personal excellence, it's also fostered a belief in winners and losers more than or less than. Behind it lay the fear of being judged for not being good enough and that is psychological malady of many cultures. Will I ever be strong enough, fast enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, smart enough, rich enough, famous enough? The question of the ego never end ended. I begin to see how this relentless perfectionism was also woven into our religious beliefs. Was I good enough to go to heaven? Was I worthy of God's love? If I don't follow the teachings of the church, is there something wrong with me or by extension someone else? These judgments caused heartache and division and stopped us from feeling the joy of really being present in one another's lives. We live in a world of polarity, I realized, where we can find heaven or hell at our doorstep at any given moment. The power of what we choose to believe in practice and to project out to the world to others ultimately comes back to us a hundredfold. As we sow, so do we reap. I realized then that we could make of our cultures anything we choose, including creating heaven on earth, but we had to realize that the dominating model we had been living under for so long will never lead us out of conflict. The tools that can free us from the dualistic mindset cannot be crafted out of the same paradigms that imprisoned us in the first place. We must make a different kind of choice if we are ever to become illuminated human beings. That is our true call.