Posts Tagged ‘choice’

Just in…

October 25, 2010

*Ron Gasparri*, founder of MSI – Modern Scientific Illuminism, colleague, co-conspirator and friend has been so kind and generous to have written and posted a terribly good review for the book “Dreams of the Magus – Where Angels Fear to Tread.” It is as follows –


Indirect Prose, Profoundly Enlightening, Esoteric & Kabbalistic Revelation

“Some books are well-written. Some books have relevant information. Some books are filed with grand, meaningless rhetoric. G. Peter Madstone’s “Dreams of the Magus” is well-written, contains relevant information and has meaning throughout its easily readable, flowing style that is reminiscent of Robert Anton Wilson’s style, as found in his masterpiece, “Quantum Psychology.” Before I go on, I have to proudly disclose that Pete is a good friend of mine and rather than assume that would skew this review in a positive direction, it actually made me read it with a more critical eye. That’s the point; as near and dear as the Western Esoteric Tradition is to me, I would never actively promote anything that claims to be a device for illumination that didn’t provide any light at all.

I read “Dreams of the Magus” in one sitting and that’s how I recommend everyone reads it. There are obvious Kabbalistic allusions throughout this book and in this context, both the new aspirant and seasoned Esotericist alike will appreciate, and receive. Many have the perception that Magick is just something that Harry Potter does with his wand in hand. After reading this book, not only will that misconception be erased, it will be exceedingly clear that there is far less “hocus pocus” involved at all. The overall implication I took away from this lucid, well written guide is that Magick is a lifestyle that empowers one to take responsibility for every aspect of his or her life. It is a proactive approach that leaves Chaos as little room as possible to meddle, and that is not paranormal at all. That shouldn’t diminish the importance of active ritual, but it should put it in context. Universal energy made use of to manifest a desired reality works best when one ensures it can augment self under the best possible conditions.

There a few typos that made into the final draft, but they do nothing to take away from the value of this guide that should be in every serious student’s collection.”


Added to this review comes another 5 star rating! Of course, as author of this book, I will take a shameless moment to also blow the same horn. This is an extremely valuable book which can benefit anyone who reads it in some unimaginable ways. That’s it…

You can buy this book anywhere online or order it from you local independent booksellers if you prefer to support the  smaller entrepreneurial spirits that drive our culture in non-homogenized ways. For now, here’s a link to my Amazon book page –


My “First” Enlightenment

August 30, 2010

Many, many years ago…

So long ago it seems as if it is a past life. So many chapters in my life have been read, re-read, read again and forgotten. This is one of those chapters in my life that I forgot existed. You might expect that the moment of one’s enlightenment would be never forgotten, but remembering such a moment is contrary that moment’s essence, and its life is lost in the annals of a memory replayed over and over. I had never re-read this chapter in my life (like I have so many others), but I stumbled upon it this morning while doing some preliminary plastering on my home’s exterior.

And so it begins –

I find myself sitting at the feet of a nameless master. But wait, I must step back a bit to explain how I got here.

I have always sought the most serious answers to life’s puzzling questions – serious answers to this joke we call life, and so, before entering college I decided to go to India to seek out those who knew. I travelled the countryside for months. I had meditated and sat satsang with yogis, sages and fakirs. I had seen it all, and yet still had not found what I was looking for.

I spent weeks at an Ashram waiting for Sai Baba to appear, hopeful that this God could answer my questions. When he arrived, I was granted private audience with him. While he explained to me that he was not the one for me, he said the One was calling and that I must go back on the road. I must continue my journey. Before I left, and in the typical nature of wise ones, Sai Baba muttered something so cryptic (I was rather young and naive) to me that had me wondering as I walked out the door, “Is this God bisexual?” This, in and of itself held no import to me whatsoever, as I had met bisexual Gods before, I just never quite understood them. Gods and men all have choices to make, and it is far from me to judge another. I later learned that this God has controversy follow him like flies follow un-showered Frenchmen (of which there are many – flies and un-showered Frenchmen).

I encountered Babaji some weeks later, and he, too, said he was not the one. I had to ask him in reply, “If all are one, how can you  not be the one?”

He smiled some cryptic smile as his sparkling eyes bored deep into my soul and I ended up with the biggest headache I ever had. He told me to go to the Ganges and bath so I would be clean for my meeting with the one True One. I went to the Ganges, high in the foothills of northern India, and bathed in the holiest of earthy waters. I ended up with dysentery.

After this, I continued on my journey, asking many where I might find the one. People would say, “Ahhh, you seek the Silent One! Continue on your path, young man – he awaits you.”

Weeks had passed as the blisters on my feet grew into slathering, oozing , puss-filled monstrosities fusing with the cotton fibers of my socks. Weeks of doubts, wishes to be elsewhere, hunger I had never known, and sights to behold unfolded before me. I knew I would soon be dead if I could not find the One.

One morning I entered a small village ready to give up on my dreams of understanding all there was to be understood. I asked an old man about the One. He pointed. There was a door. I went through the door. My eyes fell upon a not so unusual sight of a man in robes meditating on a cushion. Could this be the One I sought? Could this be the One that awaited me – that One who knew I was coming to see him? I sat down silently before him and waited.


Hours pass – he begins to snore.

More hours pass – he stirs.

A little movement under the folds of cloth that covered this wise one, and some low moaning begins. Chanting, or maybe only the response of one whose legs are stiff from having not moved from the typically uncomfortable full-lotus position?

I could take it no longer, and so I spoke as this moaning (chanting?) continued getting louder. I asked expectantly and abruptly, “Are you the One I seek?”

His reply?

“Shhhh…. I am Master Bei Ting.”

I knew I had found the One.

Variations on a Dream

July 28, 2010

   */RonGasparri\* Speaks/*

If ever there was a man who has done so much and yet not enough, it would be   */RonGasparri\*. While many others would be happy to just rest themselves on their past accomplishments, Ron would say he has barely just begun – only because so much still remains unfinished.

During the years of the first Gulf War, it quickly became apparent to Ron’s superiors that he was no ordinary jarhead. He was quickly (and appropriately) inducted into the world of military intelligence and soon after began his association with the various lodges and fraternal orders — this did , of course, provide certain advantages for him professionally. Within a few short years, Ron found himself wearing the apron of a 32° Scottish Rite Freemason.

He has also been awarded various, respected positions in other fraternal groups and lodges including being:

– Elected Monarch of the Effendi Grotto
– Knighted by Knights of Pythias
– Knighted by Priory of Knights Templar

After all this, Ron’s true passion for the mysterious and occult dominated any other desire (other than being a good father), and he dove into the somewhat obscure arenas of Enochian and Ogdoadic Magicks. Eastern Indian and Tibetan practices and disciplines have also found a home in Ron’s life.


He now continues his path by stepping up and sharing a small piece of himself with us today.


 Variations on a Dream

My heart is racing, the sweat runs down my face and the fear I feel inside is overwhelming. They are coming for me. They’re going to find me and I am going to go to some god-forbidden jail or receive some type of sadistic punishment that enslaves my mind and arrests my development. I need to keep moving and I do. Lockers line both sides of the hallways. The breaks between the rows of lockers are filled with doors that lead to classrooms of various sizes. Some are exits, and I need an exit… now. Past another row, another door, and then a backlit exit-sign appears, but I instinctively know that this door leads to the auditorium.

I have no time to second-guess myself—I see that the two plain clothed security personnel are gaining on me. This time, one of the teachers is with them and he knows exactly who I am. He’s the one that discovered my true age and identity. He has to be the one; he was one of my teachers when I was here the first time. In the door I go, and—what the fuck is this? It’s a slide, an inflatable slide that leads right out to the front of the building. It looks like a huge version of those emergency slides that are used by aircraft after they make emergency landings, except this one is really wide, sectioned into ten or so rows and it’s black with white stitching. This doesn’t seem normal, but it is something I must navigate if I am to save my life and be free again.

Now, I just need to get to the top of the slide, slide down it, and freedom shall be mine. I run down the center row, between two large areas of movie-theater style chairs aimed at the stage, arranged in the typical descending fashion. If this weren’t a high school auditorium, it would be a very posh theater. There are about five stairs that flank both sides of the stage and just as I decide to go up the left side’s stairs, I hear the doors open behind and above me—they enter and yell “Stop!” Yeah, right. Why would I stop for someone who doesn’t have my best interests in mind? Why would I listen to any other man, anyway? I run to the very top of the immense slide, throw my books down first (I don’t want them to slow my descent) and down I go. It feels like the “Moon Room” inflatable amusement area those neighborhood churches and social organizations would set-up during fund raising events. I’m down, and quickly out of the building.

Why do I not feel free? Where is that sense of relief I expected? Why am I not elated? I see a yellow school bus pull up just in front of the gymnasium complex, and I notice that my friends are getting on, well, the guys, anyway and they are all dressed in their football uniforms. A rear bus window opens and a close friend yells, “Ron. Come on, Man. You’re gonna be late!” I am going to be late and I may very well miss the game, too. In fact, now that the administrators know who I am, I may never get to finish the football season. Now there are two things I will not finish and the feeling of doom overwhelms me, but I have to try.

As I run along the sidewalk, the bus pulls away from the entrance and as I take another fast stride, I find myself between two parallel bars, both are greased beyond belief and there is nothing beneath me. I have no idea where or why this obstacle appeared before me, but it did and now the real fear sets-in. Whoever did this to me knows that ever since the fall, I have had a paralyzing fear of heights and of falling again. I navigate the parallel bars and jump off them, back on to the sidewalk. I realize that these bars had replaced a bridge that used to be located in the same area. The bus is only about a half of a city block ahead of me and I have to get on it.

Suddenly, I awaken to the sound of the night and the sound that my sweat makes when it rolls down the side of my head.


There are turning points in everyone’s lives. There are major decisions that we make when we are too young to know anything about future repercussions, both personal and intra-personal. I made a decision when I was sixteen and that decision has affected every facet of my life since. Some say that it has all worked out well and that things just took a little longer to “gel” for me because of it. Bullshit. I know the truth. That decision still haunts me to this day and impacts me still. Nothing has worked out the way I wanted things to work out because of this decision. Sure, there is an element of shame, of guilt, but the real feelings underlying that fateful decision are regret and anger. I regret dropping out of high school to join the Marine Corps. I am angry that nobody tried to talk to me about the unlimited field of other options that were accessible and tangible. The excuse I heard was, “We could have told you nothing that would have changed your mind,” but I know that’s a bunch of crap.

Over time, I have come to terms with myself and this decision, but apparently not completely. Over time, I have forgiven myself and have been able to allow myself to be proud of being a Marine, but maybe that’s bullshit too. All combat Marines live with a burden unlike any other and we generally don’t do well once we’re outside the Marine Corps environment. Had I not panicked back then when my girlfriend informed me that she was pregnant, I would have been on the road I am on now, only ten years ago, and that means more than you can imagine. The reasons are selfish ones and I get that, too. All I needed and wanted was someone to tell me that waiting 24 hours before making a major decision really is OK, that answers sometimes don’t come immediately, and that impulsive action works only about 10% of the time.

So, tonight when I sleep again, I wonder if the “High School Principal” of my former high school will try to find out why, at my age and with my college degrees, I am still trying to pass myself off as a high school student (and trying to get a diploma I obviously don’t need). I wonder if I will ever catch the school bus that used to drive the football team to its games and get to play another varsity year of high school football again. I wonder if having graduated high school means as much to my former classmates as it would have meant to me. I wonder if, when I make my next major decision in life, I will allow myself 24 hours to think: just to make sure I have explored other options. I do know one thing: I was too young to make such an important decision as to drop out of high school so I could provide for my child. This was a decision made too fast.

You can learn more about Ron and yourself in the following places:

MSI – Modern Scientific Illuminism

MSI Facebook



Nick Myers Speaks

June 6, 2010

When I first encountered Nick Myers, I was cruising the web for interesting things, people, blogs, etc., and I came across this site called Atomic Potential (Liberated Self). I seem to remember, in a short description found on a back-page, that the writer of this Blog, Nick, desired most deeply to make a masterful cup of tea. Now this caught my attention, being I was raised by an English mother, but I soon realized Nick was speaking of something much deeper. It was evident that he was coming from directions eastward (and inward) and was dwelling in an arena of non-duality, non-identity, non-self, non-sense and non-such (most simply described as a beautiful “place” to be). Nick responded to my invite in the typical fashion of many writers when asked to do a bio.

To look objectively at your path and what helped create what you have become is not an easy thing. To speak of your passion is one thing, but to speak of your self has most of us wondering where to begin. “What could be so interesting about me?” “Why would anyone be entertained or stimulated by such an ordinary thing called my life?” No question could be harder to one who seeks the nameless, but in looking at his past, Nick realized how remarkable the ordinary can be, and how gifts that are given can also be shared. This is his story….

When I was initially asked to do a biography, I had thought of the many things in my past that I would be able to talk about but none of them seemed out of the ordinary. I actually don’t really remember a lot of my childhood, but looking deeper into it, from where I am now, I realize that there is absolutely no other way I could have become other than what I am. As a little guy, I was quite the curious fellow. I was always getting into mischief with friends (not the bad kind, not the good kind, just the kind). I do remember having a broad imagination and that I could play for hours outdoors until the soles of my feet were black from asphalt and the sun went down. I remember hearing the pleasant voice of my mother calling me back home.

I was unstoppable at this young age, climbing trees, watching the world from my lofty perch, and just taking in the gentle breeze for hours. There was always this re-occurring theme of wind or water in my life, as I was always playing in nature and the wind was at my disposal — whether it was at home in a tree, or at the local park that was an easy walking-distance away. I couldn’t get away from the tranquility that surrounded me. I had taken to tree-climbing with my friend Hrant and we could talk for hours — we shared young-boy’s insights, probably goofy ones at best, but you know, sometimes words of the innocent tend to ring more true than words we use after we’ve grown.

I was entering a very important part of my life, for I had found religion. A friend had taken me to his church (Christian) and I was eating it up, taking in all that was being said to be truth. After all, what can we do at this ripe, young and innocent age but listen to our superiors? The Christian faith is a beautiful faith to have, so for awhile I sought refuge in it. It was important in my growth that I experienced it as I transitioned into high school for it gave me something to stand upon.

In high school there are two distinct feelings that come to mind, “oblivious” and “Buddhism.” I was oblivious because not only did I not see what was going on around me at the time — there is surprisingly a lot of drug and alcohol use in high school which I was ignorant of — but I was also ignorant to the mass amount of separation between people. There was separation everywhere. This attitude seems to originate in those years that that we begin to develop “the High School teen identity.” Now, I wasn’t exactly a part of any one group – it seemed that I could mingle with almost any group I wanted (like I said, I was ignorant to certain trends).

In regards to Buddhism, I wasn’t yet a part of that religion, but there was a strange pull to it for some reason. I remember thinking about how it would be just to be a monk. Funny that – I think this idea originated because I had one English teacher in particular that was really willing to stretch our brains. She is the one who introduced me to the old book called “Siddhartha.”

This kind of stuff intrigued me, so much so that I started reading more and more about Christian spirituality. I started learning of angels and demons, and sin. I even had a book on spiritual warfare which I still have. I was really beginning to grow inwardly, and was experiencing dreams which I could not understand at the time. My faith in Christianity continued to grow. (I realized later that it was this growth that would push me further, and allow me to transcend what it was that I was learning at the time).

In entering college, I opened up to all of the possibilities of education and the possibilities of things outside of what everyone was telling me to believe. I enrolled in a Religious Philosophy class and was suddenly exposed to the many different religions of the world. This would rock my world and shook all that I called my foundation, yet I still remained carefree. All through my college life, with all the stress and anxieties of it, there was a kind of stillness within me that I couldn’t quite comprehend (frankly, I still can’t). It’s such a mystery to me, but while pursuing a business major, I sought philosophy as my refuge – specifically religious philosophy. I had started with Christianity, then went to Buddhism, which later gave way to Hinduism and Sufism as well.

I slowly became more open to the ways of the eastern mystics near the end of my college career. A turning point in my life came with my reading Paulo Coelho’s, “The Alchemist.” It opened my heart and I was able to take in what his words were implying, deeply – his message went down into my whole being. Around this time I was introduced to Advaita through Nisargardatta Maharaj and this allowed the questions of “who” or “what” I am to flourish within me, and this “concept” really began to take seed and grow. As I continued to study and read, the body lived a rather typical college person’s life, but inwardly there was (and still is) a revolution happening, a universal happening.

I soon learned the lesson of detachment, for in one class I was presented with the late Christian Mystic Meister Eckhart teachings which were about detachment, and what it meant to cling to worldly things. He taught how attachment can only bring about suffering. This also brought to light within me how it is we who do this to ourselves — it is not outside of us but inside where all this takes place, so my responsibility to self began to grow. Although I began to feel this overwhelming love for the people around me, I was also very distant from “emotional” involvement. I began to realize that the needful attachment to emotion wasn’t necessary to see that love and compassion pervaded everything, but even through this pervasion, it all existed through non-action. I realized that no matter what this growing body was doing, it wasn’t really doing anything at all — that things were working out as they should at every moment. I did feel empty and distant from others, but also had a sense of well being and
a very real compassion towards others.

I began to react less and less to things others would do or say to me, but I was also presented with opportunities for continued growth and healing of things I had repressed for so long – things would continue to bubble up.

These were the trials for me in terms of relating to others (in regards to a love life). By the end of the semester I was deeply rooted in Advaita, but then I discovered Osho and Anthony de Mello, both “mystics” (for lack of a better word) who showed me so much more about myself. My mind couldn’t withstand it, and it was left to only grow outward, more towards others. Although the personality still had its quirks (and it still does — that’s what makes the personal so beautiful) there was still this growing inner silence, peacefulness, and gratitude.

I was releasing my old views of Christianity and what God is and expanded into what is a collective whole. I realized that there is no separation between what we are and what we see as  God/Awareness/Universal Consciousness, each of which is a different word for the same timeless, indescribable thing. However in terms of chronological and psychological time, the journey seemed to take up the whole of the 23 years of my life. Paradoxically, it all manifested spontaneously and perfectly, and at the exact moment that it was suppose to.

Finally, I come to rest between Zen (the connection between who, or what you and I are) and the seemingly material world. I would have to say that Zen and the Tao are the same, and that whatever is used to describe this Tao is not the true Tao (or Zen). It is but rather just a pointer, an indicator of the truth. I will continue to go on pointing at this Tao, but I can never to know it with my intellect. This place I rest is what the Chinese refer to as “Wu-Wei” — the serene reflection. When there is no ripple of thought in the mind, the reflection on this pond reflects a perfect and clear reality. If I stir it up as a storm does, it becomes chaotic, so I stay without word as much as possible. I have learned that to not impose personal thought on reality allows me to see reality for what it is, clearly.

And so, I stay in this gap in silence, and I stay in this gap for guidance. I watch my breath as it guides me to this place — this place of inner silence.

I have become a spiritual being having a human experience.

To spend more time with Nick, visit him at his website:

Atomic Potential

The Golden Flower and the Next Step

June 4, 2010

I have just extended Thoughts and the Golden Flower, including a discussion on the substance of thought, and the next step that would be taken in this practice that I refer to the Golden Flower method of self-discipline.

Some might say that this is where I depart from the original practice, but I have never been good at dogma anyway. If, for those who are still satisfied with my interpretation of turning the light around, there is some disagreement , it would have to be on my attitude and philosophy of the practice itself.

Of course this could be said about my attitudes and philosophies in regards to traditional dogmas and doctrines in ALL arenas of thought and religion. Don’t get me wrong — I love ALL religions of the world, and have studied them for all of my adult life. It is only when piety prevents growth that I move on.

You see, we are different today than we have ever been, and our evolution is quickly delivering us to a place that requires LIFE be injected into our realities for us to survive. If, even from “Joe the Plumber’s” point-of-view, we can justify a lack of change and growth by spouting rhetoric that our beliefs ARE alive, then I would have to challenge this, as well.

And so, my apologies go out to those who feel I am incorrigible and irreverent for my perspectives, but these will not be swayed by the status-quo. My apologies are also fairly shallow, for I cannot be responsible for the way you feel, even if you are disturbed by the things I say…

Anyway, all is in perspective with the power of true spirit and the mind of the human being who chooses to challenge themselves and all that is around them. If I had a hat, it would be off to you.

View Thoughts and the Golden Flower here

%d bloggers like this: