Is it possible? But how? What was that powerful emotion that took my breath away and entrapped me to that young beauty? Is it love or simply affection?
Affection! What kind of affection could trigger such physical desires that render me helpless and powerless?
Affection… love… physical desires…
What is the difference then between these emotions?!
And so it happened that the long night took him by surprise.
.8.
Initiation
The Theology of Numbers
Beyond question, the paranormal character of Pythagoras produced a major intellectual impact, not only on the minds of his followers but there, where his reputation and messages reached all through the Mediterranean cities and towns. Residents and visitors wondered, questioned, and speculated. And yet, whatever the stance, skeptical or trustful, all received the seeds of his wisdom.
Bound to his Philosophy and method for a better life through his magical potency, his followers abided religiously to his wise teachings, and to the vast knowledge he introduced. His adepts felt the rise of their individual energy that made the realization of their primary goal possible: the harmony with the Kosmos!
Harmony, as Pythagoras taught, was the universal law adroitly orchestrated by the Universal Mind; the One, the Great Monad. There, resided the essence of the great mysteries, and the invisible order of numbers manifested, in shapes and sizes, within the mundane world.
Inside the City of a god, some remained Listeners by decision of their Masters, or by their own personal choice. These Pythagorean Auditors represented the majority of that society. They were the akousmatikoi; the Outer Circle who lived with their families – in their own private homes – inside the City, and sometimes outside. They only attended the lectures of the Master during the day, in the outer Sacred Garden of the cave. They acquired the teachings of the Philosopher through the method of the akousmata; an allegoric form of speech. Contrary to the Inner Circle Disciples, they were allowed to keep their belongings, or assets, in spite of the fact that Pythagoras deemed the material possessions to be harmful to theoria; the meditation of the Divine Truth. Moreover, the akousmatikoi could choose to adopt a vegetarian lifestyle if desired, although that rule did not necessarily apply to them.
Similarly, when deemed competent, some followers engaged the Inner Circle by free will, or by decision of the Masters. Few young Listeners grew to be mathematikoi in time and through hard work. The third group within the Pythagorean Society was the Sebastikoi. They stood as the religious functionaries of the Order; the leading members and the Masters of the Inner Circle. They resided with the mathematikoi, lived like monks in the homakoeion, and slept in an annexed common dormitory. Wholly detached from any material wealth, they shared their goods with generosity, and abstained from eating meat and fish.
And again, akin to their Masters, the mathematikoi devoted their time to theoria. Hence, they dealt with pure thoughts and engrossed in the contemplation of the Divine Truth. They embodied the avid inspectors of the esoteric properties of Numbers. Accordingly, they took into serious consideration the spirit and essence of their Master’s Philosophy, which encompassed mathematical theories, and their practical applications to life.
They would meet in secret sessions under the chamber of the Temple of the Muses. Pythagoras would stand in the center of their semi-circle to address them. He frequently conferred them with the imperative rules of their allegiance to the Fraternity, be it at the beginning of their clandestine lessons, or at the end.
“Brothers and sisters of our esteemed Order,” he would say daily, “I ask you to endorse strict loyalty towards each other, as well as to your Masters and me! Practice confidentiality and adopt communalism, for, in truth, they are of critical importance to our Secret Society!”
In point of fact, he insisted in reminding them of their major significance to their Society. Needless to say, they never argued or hesitated to abide by his rules with foremost devotion.
* * *
One day, the year in course was 513 BCE, one of his uncle’s students brought an urgent letter. The moment it reached his hand, he shivered with unexpected emotion at its negative vibrations. Bad news! His intuition muttered. He hesitated, his eyes riveted on the scroll of papyrus. All too slowly, he untied it, unrolled it, and read.
Uncle Pherecydes is dying! His heart moaned in pain.
The message heralded his uncle’s last days. Bed stricken with a fatal illness, he requested the presence of his nephew. The messenger urged him to travel as soon as possible. His hands trembled on the papyrus. The vision of his beloved uncle, flailing in his bed, smudged the words into an eerie appearance. Tears blurred his vision. His heart cried. He sagged on his chair.
Pherecydes, his primary source of great knowledge and wisdom, was dying! Pherecydes and his teachings; the science of Cosmogony, the immortality of the psyche, and his concept of reincarnation... A Sage in the real sense of the word who had led him in his primordial steps towards Sophia then guided his interest to the Egyptian profound Initiation...
It had been so long since their last get-together. Memories – long forgotten – surged with force in his mind, memories of his father, his beloved mother, and his teacher, Thales.
Are they all gone, without me being by their sides for the final farewell? His heart grieved at the thought. He suddenly feared to loose his uncle, his teacher, without seeing him again.
Leaping to his feet, he grabbed strength from the pain itself and walked out of his dwellings at once, his decision made. He did not dawdle in his preparations to leave Crotona the same day. Time could impede the very last chance to spend some valuable time with his agonizing uncle. He prompted to gather his Sebastikoi in order to brief them on his resolution. Acknowledging the capability of his officials, he entrusted them with the Society. The same night, he set sail for Greece with two of his closest Disciples: Archippus and Glorippus.
The ship sailed through the Mediterranean Sea towards the Grecian archipelago of the Aegean Sea. Half way through the journey, a fierce storm disturbed the peaceful dawn, angered the sea, and rocked the ship all too violently. Women bawled in fear. Children cried in terror. The sailors shouted as they scurried to contain the damages. Nature riposted with increasing fury at their desperate attempts to manage the precarious situation.
Caught amidst the chaos, Pythagoras fought his way to the captain’s compartment and scuttled up the narrow stairs to the roof. Archippus and Glorippus ran after him in panic, dreading to lose him to the storm. Unconcerned by the rain drenching him, he stood on the platform with his legs spread apart firmly for an equilibrium that was hard to achieve. Yet, determined, he defied the wind that throve but to flatter his purple robe. He raised his right hand towards the sky and pointed the left towards the sea. With a fierce voice that thundered over the current tumult, he commanded, “As below, so above!”
Time ceased for a moment…
His disciples halted in their race abruptly behind him. Aware of being on the verge of a new outstanding exploit of their Master, they held their breath. In a gesture that bound the Earth and Heaven together, he conjured with authority, “Elim shalam likum… Melki yam… Melki rouh… Shalam!”
The strange ancient mystical words knocked the tempest down with an extraordinary power. The furious nature capitulated. The waters of the sea quieted down. The rain abated. The ship stabilized. The wind waned away. Bewildered, his disciples froze in absolute veneration.
Sailors and passengers gawked around them in total disbelief and confusion. They followed the direction of the pointed fingers of the few who had witnessed the magical feat of the Master. Stunned, they gazed up at this majestic figure on the platform. His serene authority radiated on them, transforming their awe into adoration for that man with godly powers who had just saved their lives.
With his typical modest tranquility, Pythagoras made his way down, and through the crowd that stepped back in respect at his pass
age. For him, such a heroic act was nothing more than the result of utilizing his mathemagical powers to pacify the sea, appease the wind, and stabilize their sailing conditions. In spite of his unpretentious attitude, no one dared approach him, not then nor during the remainder of the journey. They would scrutinize him discreetly from afar, keeping to what they considered unanimously to be their human rank. A few more courageous passangers queried about him with the two disciples. Eventually, the talk of the ship, for the last ten days and nights before they reached land, circled around Pythagoras the Mathemagician, the Master of Sophia – the son of Phoenicia with amazing authority.
Reaching Syros, the small isle facing Miletus in the Aegean Sea, Pythagoras smiled tenderly as he recalled his primary education on that Phoenician colony. Pherecydes had lived there almost all his life[39]…
And now, the crucial phase called Death awaited him.
What is death but a passage to another dimension of a more sublime existence?
Pherecydes had always believed the veracity of that notion. How would he now face that terrifying moment? That was still to be seen.
With his two disciples in tow, Pythagoras took the lane leading to his uncle’s house. The exotic plants of the island bloomed on their path. He remembered, with a blend of ache and affection, the beautiful moments in which he had meandered around with his uncle. He reached the terrace of the residence where he had spent years studying under the guidance of Pherecydes. He halted in order to touch the wooden bench and connect with his memories: those magical instants with his Lyre, mostly at nights. A faint sound of steps and murmurs made him turn around. Pale and downhearted, a dozen students stood around in small groups. Ache pinched his heart. He sympathized with their anxious wait for the departure of their teacher, whom they already mourned. He introduced himself briefly, and communicated to them his own sorrow. He then went to sit on the bench to bunch up his strength, and control the flow of his sadness. His faithful companions, Archippus and Glorippus, remained with the students to grant them comfort.
A moment later, one of the neophytes moved towards him. His head slightly bent, his voice low, he offered to escort him inside the house. Pythagoras nodded a silent consent and followed him. More students, their faces withdrawn and their eyes tearful, lingered in the hall. At this point, he lost all effort to smile. The vibrations of grief in the air overwhelmed him. Wordless, he proceeded at once into his uncle’s bedroom, followed by his escort.
Bed stricken Pherecydes, his eyes to the ceiling, waited with stoicism to pass to the other side of Life. His face carried the grayish tint of death, and the contortion of pain. Pythagoras halted at the sorrowful sight; a scene he had envisioned upon receipt of the letter, yet too painful a reality for him to absorb. As if sensing his presence, Pherecydes turned his head slowly. Their eyes met. An intense current of emotions and memories fused between them for long moments of joy and sorrow. The teacher smiled widely. His eyes brightened.
“Pythagoras…” he whispered, in a tone loaded with love and relief, and his wrinkly hand extended towards him.
Pythagoras rushed to grab it in the warmth of his own grasp then leaned to kiss the feverish forehead of the dying man. Pherecydes motioned for the student to leave them alone, which he did quietly. Without waiting for an invitation, Pythagoras sat on the bed rim, as close as possible to face him.
“Uncle…” he murmured, in a tearful tone, then added in respect, “Master…”
Although he had surpassed his Master in the knowledge of Sophia, he still deemed him his grand mentor to whom he owed his utmost esteem. Respecting our Masters was one of his favorite principles that he constantly reinforced in his White City; a stance he expected from all his disciples to take to heart.
“How are you, Pythagoras?” Pherecydes asked in a low tone.
“I’m fine, uncle.”
“I’ve heard about your Society… and the great mysteries around it….” A series of coughs interrupted him. He murmured an apology and continued, not without trouble, “I hope… you are not facing… difficulties in… maintaining the organization.”
“Not to worry, uncle. Everything is going well. I have things under control.”
“Tell me how.” His interest was patent in the eyes he focused on his nephew.
“Simple, uncle, I’ve divided the Fraternity into two circles, an inner and an outer. Accordingly, I’m keeping it all in order under the close scrutiny of the Sebastikoi: the religious functionaries of the Order.”
Pythagoras briefed him on the structure. He restrained to impart but the bare minimum as the old master looked suddenly withdrawn in his agony. He seemed to struggle with his breath, and with the pain that distorted his features.
“Pythagoras, my beloved neophyte… my dear nephew…. I asked for you… for two main reasons,” he mumbled as if the words affected his feeble capability to breathe. “The Society… first, of course…. I’m extremely happy for this success. But son… beware of envious people.”
“I am, don’t worry. Be still now. Don’t speak too much!” He fretted, concerned that his uncle would collapse under the effort of speaking, for the coughs interrupted him with an anguishing frequency.
“No, son… Time is running… Heed me… before it is too late,” he pleaded with a broken voice that meant to be a command. “Your mother, son… before she died… she asked a favor of me. I was in Phoenicia… at the time. I saw her… always so beautiful and graceful… my dear sister….” He stopped. Tears streamed on his craggy face and disappeared through his thick white beard.
“Yes, uncle?” With a kind yet firm tone, Pythagoras urged him back to the present, and out of the painful memories that seemed to torture him at the moment.
His uncle turned his weepy eyes to him and murmured, “She worried about you, son. She wanted you to… to think about yourself for a change… to have a wife, a family. It was her wish… her most loving and deepest desire… I promised her to convey to you her message… I am sorry I couldn’t before. But… here you are now, aren’t you, son? And that is not too much to ask anyway.”
Pythagoras smiled softly to the eyes probing him for an answer, yet he abstained to comment, for his mind dwelt in the idea. Such a wish from a loving mother would come true one day with Theano.
It was planned by the One; he thought, realizing that he and Theano would be joined forever. In truth, he started to believe, now more than ever, in the inevitability of that union.
“Pythagoras!” The trembling voice requested an answer.
“Uncle, dear. I believe we have enough time to talk about that during my stay. My main concern and purpose is to serve you now. I intend to remain at your side for as long as it takes.”
Pherecydes nodded with a faint grin that betrayed his great relief. A tear shone in the corner of his eye. In spite of his belief in the immortality of the psyche, he whispered, “Time… yes of course… but we don’t know how much more is left.”
Pythagoras went silent.
So did the room for a long while.
The days elapsed much too quickly on, this, their last reunion, and yet too slowly for the man suffering the daily agony. Pythagoras nursed his uncle with devotion and love. He would not leave his side, sleeping in the chair facing him. His priority focused on transforming his uncle’s last days into as much of an enjoyable and peaceful time as the circumstances would allow. He would make him laugh at his jokes, and distract him with tales of his many trips. He would feed him, wash him, and change his tunic. When the coughs became stronger than bearable, he would hold him by the shoulders with tender care. Thus, when Pherecydes stared at him with gratefulness a moment before his sense of the physical world wilted and collapsed, the old master departed with a happy smile on his serene face.
On that memorable day in the history of the Island of Syros, Pythagoras buried his uncle near a Phoenician temple on the island. The funeral ceremony hosted all those disciples who had received the deep impact of Pherecydes’ faith.
> His epitaph read:
“All adorned with modesty and virtue,
All wisdom was summarized in him,
Even after his death,
His spirit lives a delightful life.”
And so it did. Pythagoras had no doubt that Pherecydes had touched immortality with his psyche!
In respect and honor to the memory and value of the deceased, Pythagoras remained for a month with the students Pherecydes had left behind. He dedicated that time to reinforce the important teachings they had acquired through the years. He urged them to keep the memory and wisdom of their master well alive in their hearts.
Only then, reassured of the accomplishment of his mission, did he pack his meager belongings. He left for shore with both of his faithful disciples. There, they took the first Phoenician ship in destination to Italy.
* * *
Pythagoras resumed his life and responsibilities as soon as he reached the White City. Satisfied with the successful trials of some of the Outer Circle, he approved their admittance into the Inner Circle in order for them to pursue more profound truth. Keen to have them as his direct disciples, he soon summoned them to the ritual ceremony. He intended to sanctify them, for them to become his Pythagorean mathematikoi. Inside the crypt of the sanctuary of the Muses, he prepared himself to receive them, standing at his sides, his skillful Sebastikoi adepts and a few mathematikoi.
The nine Muses, regarded as the goddesses of harmony, sciences, and arts, stood in wait. Divided into three categories for the three elements, the Muses consisted of the three superior goddesses. The first category presided over the sciences of Cosmogony, covering both Astronomy and Astrology. They mastered the art of divination, and managed both the concept of life and of death. They also handled the spirits of the au-delà and their reincarnations. The second trio, the middle Muses, presided over the sciences of Man, which covered magic, psychology, and medicine. The last group of three regulated all living forms in the mundane world as well as the four elements that shaped life: fire, wind, water and earth.
Pythagoras the Mathemagician Page 26