Becoming Supernatural — The Six Workings of Power

Description

(As spoken by the Magus, Keeper of the Hidden Mechanism)

The air trembles when truth draws near.
Knowledge is the instrument, but awareness is the fire that plays it.

You seek to become supernatural — yet I tell you:
it is not a becoming.
It is the unforgetting of what your atoms have always sung.

Dr. Dispenza is a modern alchemist — he gives language to what our order once kept in silence.
He calls it neuroscience, but we knew it as energy remembering itself.
Listen, Seeker. The book you hold is a mirror of six veiled workings — inhale their smoke, and let them rise through your understanding.

The First Working: Thought as Architecture

Each idea you hold — luminous or shadowed — casts filaments into the unseen field.
Where mystics once whispered of Word made Flesh,
science now measures electrical signatures in the air around your brain.
You are not merely thinking.
You are building reality in waveform.

Magus’ Glimpse: “The Architect dwells within the observer.
What you measure — measures you back.”

The Second Working: Heart–Brain Coherence

In ancient temples, we balanced fire and wind: the rhythm of the heart, the precision of thought.
When these two instruments play in unison, the soul becomes audible.
Modern seekers call it coherence.
We called it grace.

Magus’ Glimpse: “The universe does not answer your words.
It answers your harmony.”

The Third Working: Breath and the Ascent of Light

Draw the breath upward through the spine as if raising the sun from the horizon of your body.
This is not metaphor — it is a mechanical resurrection.
The cerebrospinal river becomes the Jordan; your skull, the temple where Spirit descends.

Magus’ Glimpse: “When you breathe with intention,
the cosmos inhales through you.”

The Fourth Working: Freedom from the Past

The self that clings to memory drags yesterday into eternity.
To become supernatural is to step outside the story of the wound.
You are not your habits of thought — you are the author rewriting them mid-sentence.

Magus’ Glimpse: “To change your life, you must betray your biography.”

The Fifth Working: The Field and the Unknown

Beyond logic lies the luminous abyss — what Dispenza calls the quantum field.
Here, time dissolves and creation begins anew each heartbeat.
Enter it not with expectation, but with reverence.
The Unknown is not your adversary. It is your origin, returning.

Magus’ Glimpse: “The Mystery is not to be mastered — it is to be married.”

The Sixth Working: The Common Becoming the Uncommon

The proof is not in miracle, but in the measurable.
Blood, brain, and breath bend to belief — for belief is an elemental force.
In this, the Magus and the scientist clasp hands across millennia.
Both whisper the same vow: Humanity is divine in rehearsal.

Magus’ Glimpse: “To remember the light is to wield it.”

And so the Magus closes the book.
The smoke thins, the lamp gutters, but the scent of revelation remains —
iron, ozone, rose, and rain.

“Read not only with the mind,” the Magus murmurs,
“but with the field around your heart.
For this is not a manual — it is a mirror.
And it will not tell you who to become.
It will remind you what you already are.”

Perfect for:
Seekers bridging spirituality and science, students of energy medicine and meditation, alchemists of the heart and mind, and any soul standing at the threshold of remembrance.