So just like Solomon, I always prayed for wisdom, a wisdom that is not easily won, and it’s not what you think it is either.
Wisdom has always been shunned in religions for good reason. The Serpent brought knowledge of good and evil. Alas, it’s been decided that it is best for you that you rather be told what is good and what is evil from a magical Jew book, or perhaps by politicians - the only notion as equally absurd as the former.
True Wisdom is experienced, is eaten thereof, is known. Wisdom acts like a virus within the mind. A foreign catalyst introduced. It so shocks the mind that the mind cannot reside within the boundaries it has always known. The student, now, after the wizard’s appearance and revelation, of necessity must leave the shire and seek the dragon.
A dynamic process begins which does not make you inhuman, but rather, more than human. The small-mindedness of the world becomes more and less tolerable. Something you know you forgot, you instinctively feel we all forgot, and you suddenly begin to remember.
The forbidden knowledge is attained many ways, yet always through experience, be it of a koan or standing face to face with a god, or through sexual practice, or a thousand other ways atop a thousand other hills. The single mind is initiated into that knowledge over time.
All true wizards are ancient. Their minds are no longer frail, fearful, or isolated as the minds of beasts of burden with little else to think of but eating until their own demise.
The perceptions of a great and old wizard could not even be fathomable to the non-initiated, much less the thought produced by such nuanced ways of perceiving.
This is the curse of forbidden knowledge: To be able to relate to humanity more, but that it be less able to relate to you. The natural world, the Animus Mundi, and her soft whispering in your ear will be more than enough in the way of a trade-off.
Em Hotep - Patrick Gaffiero