126. Divine night, here I am, finally alone with myself, listening in the voices of Isaiah to your insinuating clamor that names me. Enchanting night, Urania, my life, for you to be sick is to be healthy; All the stories that in remote childhood amuse the mortal are nothing to you, which is why you smell better than the fragrance of enchanted sleepy gardens, and because you are more diaphanous, my good, than the diaphanous crystal palace. With fruitful ardor, without any accident, with simple piety, I crossed the streets of the capital city of Mexico. Crossed city at midnight, between ineffable crystals clean of all fog. Who, shouting my name, runs through the dwelling? Who calls in the night with such a delicious accent? It is a breath of wind that weeps in the tower, it is a sweet thought. I climbed the old tower of the Metropolitan Cathedral singing my poem with the voice of silence. The mists on the mountain peaks were lost. From lands that have suffered tremendous convulsions, from craters and vomit and lava, Iztaccihuatl and Popocatepetl emerged as if by enchantment to delight the eyes, the two legendary volcanoes that guard the Valley of Mexico as ancient guardians. And beyond the distant mountains I saw ineffable worlds and regions, impossible to describe in words. “Look what awaits you!” said a generous voice that gave music to the wind. Song that no one listened to and that is playing and playing wherever I go, and in whose notes it seems that I feel my own voice. And when I descended from the tower someone was following me, it was a Chela or disciple; Great was my joy, I felt inebreated  by an exquisite spiritual voluptuousness, my body weighed nothing, I moved in an astral form, my physical vehicle had long since abandoned it. Already in the atrium of the old cathedral, at the foot of the ancient walls that have been silent witnesses of so many fights, and challenges for several centuries, I saw a motley and picturesque group of men and women, children and old people who here, there, everywhere they sold their wares. And seated like an oriental yogi by the wall and under the old tower in a corner of the old cathedral, an old Aztec man of indecipherable age meditated. Any sleeper could have easily mistaken him for another merchant before him, and on the cold stone of the floor the venerable man had a mysterious object, a sacred Aztec relic. Confused and dejected before this venerated indigenous saint, I had to prostrate myself reverently; the old man blessed me. My chela (disciple), who was following in my footsteps, seemed like a sleepwalker, his consciousness slept soundly, he dreamed... Suddenly something happens, he bends over as if to grasp something and without the slightest respect grabs, catches the untouchable relic, observes it in his hands with infinite curiosity and I am frankly horrified by this procedure. This seemed terrible to me and I exclaimed: "But what are you doing? You are committing a great sacrilege!" For God's sake, get out of here, leave that relic in its place! However, the master full of infinite compassion replied: -He is not to blame for all this, he is asleep. Later, like a wanderer on the road who wants to bring a precious balm to the afflicted heart, he grabs the head of the sleeping neophyte, breathes the living fohat on his face with the purpose of waking him up, but everything is useless, the Chela continues asleep, dreaming. Full of deep bitterness I said: -And so much so that I have fought there in the physical world so that they awaken consciousness, and yet they are still asleep. The Chela had assumed a gigantic figure: the Pluralized ego (set of different, diverse entities), inserted inside their lunar bodies, gave him that aspect. It was curious to see that enormous grayish-colored giant, walking slowly like a sleepwalker through the ancient atrium of the old cathedral, moving away from us towards the house where his physical body slept. In those moments I could not help but exclaim saying: -What ugly lunar bodies! However, the venerated old man full by compassion answered me: -In the temple where you are going to enter now (a Jinas temple, an Aztec sanctuary) there are many like this one, look at them with sympathy. "It is clear that I will look at them with sympathy," I answered.

127.. . Just a few days ago it occurred to me to visit the Chapultepec temple in Mexico again. A certain sister humbly prostrated herself before the doors of the temple imploring the entrance; sincere pleas are always heard. The Master Litelantes and I entered after that supplicant. Frankly, I cannot deny that full of deep veneration and devotion I advanced on my knees as many penitents do, thus slowly ascending each of the steps of the sanctuary. Litelantes came in very happy... playing around a bit... I had to get a bit severe... she was surprised at my attitude; already inside the temple I am different, I had to tell her. The opportunity of open doors was taken advantage of by a group of lunar people, poor people... Litelantes and my insignificant person, we felt so different from all those people dressed in lunar rags. How different indeed are the lunar bodies! What was amazing then was the way the Lunar group advanced, without veneration, without respect. However, I was able to understand clearly and with complete lucidity that that group should be viewed with sympathy, since they were select people with many merits. Unfortunately it was not meeting time; the way those people entered was not very orderly either. The senior master of the Temple scolded them severely and even took them out of the temple, he sang in such a delicious language... and everyone had to leave. I have been reflecting on all this: The love of Christ is formidable; this lunar group is very sincere, the little poor things have not reached the second birth, but they deserve to be helped and the Lord cares for them and cultivates them as if they were delicate greenhouse flowers, at last they will be given good opportunities to work in the Ninth Sphere.

128. In the absence of the ego and beyond time, I experienced what is Real, that element that radically transforms. Experiencing what is real beyond the mind!... experiencing directly that which is not of time... is certainly something impossible to describe with words. And I was in that state known in the Eastern world as Nirvi Kalpa Samadhi; being an individual I had passed beyond all individuality, for an instant I felt that the drop was lost in the ocean that has no shores, sea of indescribable light... bottomless abyss... Buddhist void full of glory and happiness. How to define the illuminating void? How to describe what is beyond time? The Samadhi became too deep... the absolute absence of the ego, the total loss of individuality, the more and more radical impersonalization, caused me fear. Yes...! Fear!... I was afraid of losing what I am, my own particularity, my human defects...! How terrible is the Buddhist annihilation! And full of fear and even dread, I lost the ecstasy, I entered time, I bottled myself in the self, I fell into the mind. So woe is me... Oh! Oh! It was then that I understood the practical joke of the ego; this was the one who suffered, feared for his own life, cried out. Satan, my dear ego, had made me lose the Samadhi. How horrible! If only I had known before...! And the people who adore the ego so much, that they describe it as divine, as sublime; certainly how wrong they are. Poor humanity!... So when I went through that mystical experience I was still very young and she (the night, the firmament) was called Urania. oh! crazy youth that plays with worldly things and sees a Greek nymph in every woman, even if she is a red courtesan.

129. I personally know Ehekatl, the God of the Wind, he is certainly an extraordinary Deva, he lives in the world of the Conscious Will. Ehekatl is certainly a Guru Deva, he has power over the sylphs of the air, so what? Don't the fools, the goofballs, like this? Do they laugh at elementals? Do they make fun of us? Frankly this does not bother us. He who laughs at what he does not know is on his way to being an idiot. That ancient sphinx in the sacred land of the pharaohs corresponds to the Elemental Sphinx of Nature, that mysterious instructor of the Holy Devic College. The Elemental Sphinx of ancient Egypt, so intimately related to the mysterious stone effigy, came to me when I was born in the world of Conscious Will. She had her feet were full of mud... so I exclaimed: "Your feet are full of mud!" It is clear... I understood everything... in this black age ruled by the goddess Kali, everything has been profaned and nobody wants anything with the Holy College of the Sphinx. When full of love I wanted to kiss her, she told me: "Kiss me with purity." I did so and kissed her on the cheek, then she returned to her starting point, the sacred land of the Pharaohs.