Lupelius - The School for Gods

Seeing me still perplexed, he unleashed another decisive blow against my vision of theworld, and added,“We can only see that which we are.” Then, with His inimitable and subtle humour, touchingon sarcasm, He said, “If a thief encountered a saint, he would only see his pockets”.This joke was enlightening for me and for a few moments I dwelt on that comic andinstructive image. But the Dreamer had already resumed His lecture with a scowl, as if thisdigression, albeit minimal, had held him up or caused him to deviate too much from thepurpose of our meeting.“Only contact with the School will allow you to escape from the rigidity of the vision heldby common minds.Only ‘school work’ will one day enable us to ‘see’ the world behind its false description.Only a ‘man of the school’ will one day be able to access a harmonious vision, a state ofwholeness. And only a harmonious and complete vision will heal the world.”3 A School for overturningThe Dreamer revealed to me that training Schools for exceptional men had always existed,in every age and society. Apart from the philosophical and cultural differences that seem todistinguish them from one another, these ‘schools’ were, in actual fact, just a single School. Itsvoice remained as it had always been, and its thought had crossed every age and civilization.He called this school the ‘School of Being’, a forge, a universal hotbed of dreamers, wherevisionaries and luminous utopians had always refined their intent.“A school of transformation” further defined the Dreamer, and then paused. He breathedin deeply the aromas that spiralled up from His tea, and then, in a hushed voice added: “TheSchool for Gods…where before governing others, one learns to govern oneself.” His voicemade my spine tingle. It had become the martial howl of a warrior in action. “A School foroverturning – He said – where ideas and beliefs are overthrown…and first and foremost, theidea of the inevitability of death. Death is the ultimate resistance to truth, harmony andbeauty. Death destroys whatever is incapable of becoming truth. If we are true in every cellof our body we will never die.”I thought back to the classical tradition, before the age of Homer, which divided humanityinto two species vastly removed from each other: the heroes, who were the champions of adreaming humanity, individuals capable of making the impossible happen, and an indistinctand faceless multitude without will and without dreams. The former, guided by Fate, weredestined for a great individual adventure and the latter, ruled by the laws of Accident andChance, were fated to a life of insignificance.I was enlightened by the thought that the great myths, from the most ancient times, inreality narrated the actions of men who had encountered the ‘School’. Their adventures, theirbattles against monsters and giants, sung by the aoidoi, the wandering poets, were the stagesalong the way, part of an ‘inner journey’ back into the depths, into the most obscure and4