In Defense of Ego: A look at the number 9
This is another post concerning the meaning of number. This study is often called esoterica, number logic, god-spell, sacred math, and many other things.
Some call it nonsense.
The number nine is a strange and paradoxical number. It hides in plain sight, returning what is given, and reflecting what is seen. Turned on its head, nine appears to be a six heading the wrong direction. Consciousness is askew. It is said to be the number of the ego. Much is made of “I” being the ninth letter. Some call nine problematic and chaotic. They prefer the clean symmetry of eight, and claim it is the true ruler of numbers. Perhaps these are the same people that call for the death of ego, but I do not. I beg it to live. But I ask it to be at peace, to understand it’s place, for then the individual is truly powerful.
Nine is the number of months spent in the blessed prison of the womb, the mother freely giving of herself in order to bring about a new life. Each and every one of us is a new life. The nine continues to ten, and now there is one with room to play, study, and grow. We must count, and we shall have to count higher and higher until we perceive the meaning of nine. It is consciousness turned inward, knowing it must die if it will live again and again.
Nine is the return to the individual, only he has stepped through the braiding energies of eight and arrived on the other side. The keys to the Nine Gated City of God are forged with care and vigilance, and can be shaped by none other than the one that walks the path. No longer does the individual see only himself in the spinning cosmos, for he recognizes the divine in everything around him. Everything is conscious – the dirt and the sea, and everything in it. It is all worthy of understanding. But the individual is no longer threatened by the divinity of the rocks and the ocean. His place is secure, for he understands that although fear creeps at the heart, even when he forgets, the universe remembers. Naught is lost.
I am blessed, and although I am God’s chosen, so are all the others. My path is mine alone, but it welcomes my dancing feet and supports every step I take, be they proper or not. The only way to proceed through the maze is with eyes wide open, leaning on the strengths granted me, and obscuring my weaknesses, with wit and talent. God has granted his grace, and I receive it with a grateful heart. This is the miracle – the mirror clue – that maps the plentiful paths home.
We all grow from the heart. It is the middle, and we are born in the middle, life from death, the proper pentagram blooming from the corpse of the inverted star. The heart germinates as we root into the physical world, and branch for the heights of consciousness. The heart is our trunk, pushing and pulling the vital essences within us. Each of us should embrace the life given us. It is no less a path than any other, and deserves the dignity of conscious sight.
Ego is a love of the self, although it is known to inflate and carry us off into grand delusions. But we must not seek the death of such a noble individual, for each path has noble cause, and each path must develop a noble creed. I am meant for me alone. It will take all the strength of the body, all the grace of the heart, and all the cunning of the mind to step from the small interests of the world, and nurture instead the divine interests of the common universe. If I am asked to add to the world, I must first love myself and the part I play.
Do not lament your weakness. Instead, give thanks for your strength. Do not begrudge the struggle of others and the answers they create for themselves, unless they infringe on the rights and dignities of others. Do not not begrudge the crutches and assistance others take, for we all lean from time to time. Judge not, lest ye be judged. Smile and grant others your grace. Open your heart, and give gratitude for the capacity and interest of those around you. Forgive and forget, that the worse parts of your self might be invisible to the eyes of your brothers and sisters.
You are the Adam Kadmon, and all the world is yours to name. Define your terms, and sign on the dotted line, that the universe might contract and expand you with the pulse of inhale and ex. The universe know of your imperfection and begs only that you play your part with heart and courage, an able actor chosen specifically for your role. What will you be? Will you be a poet? A warrior? A villain, healer, musician, sneak, teacher, specialist, or jack of many trades? There is yet time to highlight your strengths and scrub at the stains of your mistakes. I for one will be a thief with the words of others at my mouth, for all is mine, and I share it freely with you: Be who you are, everyone else is taken.