Class: Divination

[edomedpeddler.livejournal.com]

((OOC notes: There are two assignments to this lesson, the first above the cut, the second hidden behind it.

Anyone can join, even if you didn't sign up, so if after reading this post, you want to reply, go for it. As with most classes, if you want Kusuriyuri's attention, please include that in the subject line of the reply. Since Kusuriyuri is Japanese [and very much so], he talks in a rather passive, convoluted and understated way. If you need me to "translate" it in replies, please include an OOC asking for such and I'll be glad to do it for you. I do know that sometimes it can be off-putting, not being sure how to respond.

Also, there will be some Japanese words in the lesson. This is mostly due to the "they don't translate well if at all" problem. I will provide a translation for them, though, but the Japanese will be there because it is more accurate.

There will be links at the bottom if you're interested in following up on any of the ideas presented here. I find research utterly fascinating but I understand if you don't. I provide them as citation and as "if you’re interested, you can follow up here."

The mysticism Kusuriyuri practices is based on 密教 Mikkyou Buddhism [Mikkyou translates to "secret religious transmission"], an esoteric branch of Buddhism that was passed down linearly [teacher to student]. Being Japanese, it is also heavily influenced by 陰陽 [onmyou, the kanji translate to dark and light], which relates to the Daoist philosophy of yin and yang. It is why Japanese religion is a thing of complex interactions between seemingly antagonistic faiths.

Kusuriyuri's practice as a medicine peddler would have required him to master the arts of exorcism, philosophy, divination, and reiki. He will, however, downplay his abilities for modesty's sake, that is, he is "just a simple medicine peddler."

Feel free to say the topic is difficult...the mun agrees That is enough from me.))

Kusuriyuri examined his class. He was more familiar with one on one teaching. This group effort seemed to him a bit less focused than necessary for the students to gain the information they needed. But, this was the method that the books, when he'd finally found the library, suggested.

Students may notice odd pieces of paper adorning the walls. The paintings and the ghosts still make him uneasy so he feels better with 札 fuda, wards, on the walls. If they do not react, there are no mononoke around. It is wiser to be prepared and warned than taken unawares.

Greetings, I am Kusuriyuri. I look forward to working with you. It was requested that you consider the meanings of form and substance for this lesson. Please, write the meaning you have derived on the paper before you. When you are finished, please turn the paper over.



Mikkyou teaches of 三秘密 （san himitsu, three secrets）. These are, in the basic form, imitsu (meditation), kumitsu (mantra), and shinmitsu (murda or hand gestures). These relate to the mind, speech and the body, or reason, truth and form. The three are interrelated, relying on one another for their being.

The three secrets are mirrored by the three marks of existence. Striving or suffering relates to kumitsu, the non-Self or perceived self, relates to mantra. Impermanence, or change, relates to shinmitsu.

This being said, all things that have existence are subject to change and non-existence. The form is impermanent, changing with the flow of time.

If form, if existence, is not constant, then what can we gain from studying it? Through study, through practice, it is possible to directly experience that which is fulfillment, the Self and permanent. Through seeking understanding of these secrets, understanding the reason, truth and form of the world and ourselves, one may focus their energies to discover and develop skills and gifts: Coordination, pain control, healing, psychic sensitivity, divination.

What, then, is form? What is substance? Substance is that which underlies form. Without substance, form is empty, meaningless. Without form, substance cannot become impermanent, though. In order to exist, substance needs form.

In Mikkyou, substance is 真言 (shingon, ‘true word’ or ‘mantra’). Mikkyou is the movement, the form, and Shingon is the mantra, the truth. Together, they lend reason to existence.

It is within the heart to create form, truth, and reason. One may create a form, an idea, a concept. If to this is added energy, emotional or thought, it gains substance. By releasing this energy into the world, the thing gains reason. Thus, it is possible for people to manifest that which they want and do not want.

With humans, the strongest emotions are usually those that are negative: Fear, anger, hatred. When their form is not acknowledged, these emotions gain power and become a controlling factor over a person. Negative emotions give substance to that which is there, regardless if it can be seen or not.

Though a thing may have form, without substance, it cannot exist. If form is joined by truth and reason, a thing will have the three marks of existence. If a thing exists, it can be caused to not exist.

By naming, by giving form to that which is most feared, one begin giving it existence. When a thing has existence, it can be rendered non-existent.

To face one's own fears, then, facing the formless, the unknown, the endless. It is to face the non-existent and make it exist.

In turn, please write down and share with us what your greatest fear is. On the paper, describe it. It is best if you do not back away from naming it. To give fear a name is to give it form, is to being giving it an existance that can be taken away. It may be that among those in this class, there are others who will see the truth and reason to your fear's form, thus giving you more tools with which to confront it.

Kusuriyuri looks around at the class, pausing a moment. He is not used to speaking for such a long period of time. He closes his eyes briefly before looking at the class again, seeking to make eye contact with each student.

My greatest fear is that at the end of existence, there will be no form, no truth, no reason, that everything I am and have done will be in vain. By seeking these three, I confront my fear.

Kusuriyuri bows slightly to the class and kneels on the floor next to the desk. He is not comfortable yet in western style chairs. He will wait until he is needed. He trusts that the students are bold enough to attract his attention should they need it.

((OOC: References/related links:
http://www.occultforums.com/showthread.php?t=5448
http://www.aetw.org/reiki_ko_ju.html
http://www.aetw.org/jsp_mikkyo.htm
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mikkyo
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Three_marks_of_existence
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Onmyodo
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mononoke_%28anime%29
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Y%C5%8Dkai

Episodes of Mononoke can be made availible if desired. This lesson directly references episodes 3-5))

Comments

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

Her black hair swishes over her shoulder as she turns to look at him, and smiles for a second. 'I don't know. If you ever manage to kill anyone, you know, lure them outside of campus and stick a knife through them--if they were both students--well, I just think expulsion's always an option.'

She leans back. 'How are you?'

[fiercefluffy.livejournal.com]

She looks so very much like her evil twin, Octavian almost doesn't want to answer honestly.

The way she answers also strikes him as a Maia-like thought -- at least, the way she's phrased it, and the way he interprets it. He interprets it as making expulsion synonymous with execution, and vice versa. To be thus executed would be tantamount to an expulsion, and therefore a demonstration of unworthiness. "That is a fear of failure, then. I might narrow this further to say it is a fear of ignominious failure. Death and dismissal cannot be distinguished one from another in this scenario."

A measured silence. A small smile.

"I am well, thank you. And yourself?"

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

'Specific failure,' she corrects him. 'I nearly got kicked out once. It's not difficult, which is the horrible thing.' She makes an undignified, unMaia-like face, and then asks 'So what did you put down? I'm fine--I'm just, you know, I've been taught this before.'

[fiercefluffy.livejournal.com]

The undignified face-making helps. A lot. She's Mel again to him. As such, he isn't quite so reluctant to push his parchment in her direction.

He still wishes no one would ever see it, though. Maybe he could stand it if Titus Pullo saw. (Pullo would likely not be surprised in the least at his answer, for that matter.) Anyone else, though ... It's like being stripped in the Forum.

He does not want anyone to see that he feels this way. He stands as stiffly as ever, watching her read the parchment; his usual demeanor is practically camouflage for discomfort.

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

She reads, and a rush of horror creeps into her mind. Yeah, she knows that fear all too well--cosmic amnesia, knowing people who've forgotten heaven and believed they were cut off, on Earth--that's loss of themselves.

From the way she pales, he should see she understands his fear. She looks up, and nods. 'Sensible,' she manages.

[fiercefluffy.livejournal.com]

"I know of no real way to guard against that fear," he says. He is admitting something in saying it, but this is the point of the exercise, to flesh out these phantoms, is it not? "I suppose I could order Pullo to execute me were I to behave as though I'd lost my mind, but that would require Pullo to think as I ordinarily think. Strategic purposes may at times require me to take actions that seem in the immediate moment to make no sense."

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

Okay. Um. Ew.

'Plus, you know, he might not be able to carry out that request.'

Well, would you?

[fiercefluffy.livejournal.com]

"He could carry it out." Octavian is absolutely certain of that much. "He will do as ordered, and he is loyal."

The matter of Caesarion (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/De_Patre_Vostro_%28About_Your_Father%29) is years in Octavian's future, and something he will never know the truth about, even then.

"It would only be loyalty, to slay an imposter. For that would indeed be an imposter and not my true self. Were I to lose control of my own mind, I would no longer be Octavian."

(( warning, spoilerific link! ))

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

Mel supposes this is the way some people think, but God, it's depressing. If Mel ever went psycho, Lola would visit her, braid her hair, talk to her like she was still there, inside. Once again she reminds herself of what times he lived in.

'I see,' she replies quietly. 'You've thought of this before?'

[fiercefluffy.livejournal.com]

Yes, he has. Octavian can remember the first time he ever thought about this.

It had been an evening at his mother's house. He was alone with Caesar, speaking as civilly and peacefully as ever, when suddenly some kind of fit had overtaken the older man. Convulsions. Octavian had never seen this happen before. Caesar's manservant Posca had been nearby, and he rushed to the rescue, too fast for Octavian to really register at first what was happening. There was a small storeroom opening off that corridor, not much bigger than a closet, and Posca had bustled both Julii into this little room until the seizure passed. He explained to Octavian this was an affliction of Caesar's, the morbus, and it must be kept direly secret. A man of Caesar's position and ambition could not afford to have such a weakness known, et cetera. Caesar's reputation was not foremost in Octavian's mind as he promised his secrecy. He was transfixed by the evidence of frailty before his eyes.

Octavian would never forget the sight: Rome's most powerful man wracked by convulsions, reduced to half-strangled groans, unconscious and uncontrolled. It horrified him. More to the point, the implications horrified him. This was his uncle, one of the few men in the world whom Octavian truly respected, indeed revered. And even this man could be deprived of self-control.

"I don't dwell on it," he says to Mel. This is true. He does not permit himself to wallow. He doesn't think it wise to dwell on unpleasant and pointless worries. It's in the gods' hands whether Octavian is ever to be visited by the morbus or worse. (The occasional physical seizure is far from the worst affliction he could suffer. He fears the loss of his mind far more. To become feeble-minded or deranged, unable to reason -- next to that, the morbus would be a mere and infrequent inconvenience.)

"There isn't any sure way to guard against what I fear. I could make sacrifices to the gods, I suppose."

That last suggestion is Octavian's version of a joke.

(( This is HBO's version of history. I can't vouch for its veracity! ))

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

If she says 'Que sera sera'...okay, she just won't say that. She doesn't think she believes in God (and here she waits for a second just in case she *poof*s out of existence), and so she's not sure making any sacrifices will help. Anyway, from all the myths she knows, someone always forgets something important and then the god gets annoyed and brings chaos down on their household. Making no sacrifice is better in that case.

But can Octavian afford to think that way, if he's one of the most powerful men in Rome--or will be? Mel's not even sure he can force himself to believe, in case that's a kind of weakness. Once again, she reminds herself not to get involved, but God, is it difficult. He's Maia's friend, he has issues as high as the Eiffel Tower, and they say power corrupts. She can barely stand him as a person now; his aura, filled with schemes and ideas, leeching off the time that he lives in, makes her feel faint.

'Probably sensible,' Mel remarks, scratching at her parchment in violet ink, drawing a yin/yang design. 'It's not in your hands, after all. But I've known people that have lost themselves but managed to get back, with care and help.'

Okay, Mel? Maybe a) setting out across the Caribbean, b) getting the ship you were on taken over by pirates and c) signifying the end of a secret culture isn't 'care and help'. It helped them remember who they were, sure; Brice came to with the unfortunate sensation of being about to be shot. But acclimatising was best left to the angels at the Sanctuary.

[fiercefluffy.livejournal.com]

"Was that accomplished by doctors?" Octavian is very interested in medical reforms. (As emperor, he will establish a military medical corps, refining and regularizing the advances in medicine that had begun on the frontiers during his uncle's bloody wars of conquest.) "Or," he adds with a skeptical curl of the lip, "a work of priests?" He is thinking of Octavia's lapse into cultism. He brought his sister home to the house of the Julii by threat of force, that time. "I too am a priest," he tells Mel. "I am a pontiff."

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

'Doctors,' she replies instantly. So they're angels--it doesn't mean they're religious. 'Mental health professionals. They've had years to become the best that they can be.'

She looks interested, putting down her pen. 'How did you get to be a high priest?'

[fiercefluffy.livejournal.com]

"My uncle arranged (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Utica_%28Rome%29) the appointment. We Julii are pious sons of the republic, you see."

He says it dryly and with neither amusement nor remorse.

"My uncle had been made Pontifex Maximus, you see. For a lifetime term. Therefore he could appoint whomever he wished to the College of Pontiffs."

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

It's like the Catholic church in Tudor times. Mel studiously involves making a judgement on the Catholic church now, because, hello, she's not alive. And the mun would get on her soapbox, which is never a good thing.

'I can't imagine being part of such a well-known family,' Mel says calmly, eyes flicking to betray the fact that she can, owing to Brice. 'It must be difficult at times.'

With what Octavian's told her, more like all of the time.

[fiercefluffy.livejournal.com]

Octavian divines nothing from Mel's expression. Rather, he divines that there's something she isn't saying -- a shifting of the eyes shows that much, certainly -- but what it is, or whether it matters, he cannot say. It could merely indicate she is bored with the conversation, or perhaps that she needs to go use the lavatory.

"To be a son of the Julii is a great privilege," he says. "To be a citizen of Rome is in itself a great privilege. I will never again take that for granted." He had very nearly escaped a life of slavery in Gaul, thanks to the timely (and entirely accidental) intervention of Titus Pullo and Lucius Vorenus.

"I mention my priesthood not to boast of such connections" (why boast of that which simply is?) "but merely to point out I am not myself impressed by the attempts of priests to soothe a troubled spirit."

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

'Not much can soothe a troubled person unless they want to be soothed,' Mel confides in him. 'They might work for some. Obviously, you think too much.' It's a deadpan joke; her mum used to tell her that after Dad left, when she'd crawl into Mum's bed and hiccup that if she left she didn't know what she'd do.

Feeling almost like she's building a house of cards, Mel taps her fingers on the table, sending shockwaves of light across the surface to seep into Octavian, if he's leaning on the table. Soothing reminded her of it.

[fiercefluffy.livejournal.com]

But this time, Octavian is forewarned. (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1559713.html?thread=79048353#t79048353). The feeling good is her own brand of magic tricks, Maia has written to him concerning Mel. And so he knows what it is, what's happening, when those warm waves hit him.

He wanted it to happen, he has to admit. Why else did he approach her -- why else did he want to be near her? Yet it's something he can't allow himself. Loss of control is his greatest fear, and in allowing her vibes to affect him, he is surrendering some fraction of self-control, or so he sees it. It's no worse a sin than overindulgence in liquor, say; sins other men can allow themselves without Octavian thinking much less of them unless they let it interfere with duty; but it is something he should not want.

He lets himself absorb it all the same, for a blissful moment, before straightening and taking a deliberate step back from the table.

"In such cases, it seems to me, the work of a doctor is not so far removed from the dubious work of priests. Amputations and the suturing of wounds are concrete operations whose benefits and risks one can readily see. Meddling with the mind is a rather sketchier proposition."

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

Mel sits up, looking almost sorrowful. There's nobody here more in need of her help than Octavian, none that she's met, except perhaps for Maia. And her vibes burn her; and she still doesn't want much to do with her after ahe hurt Brice.

(This is a flaw.)

'People in my time know what they're doing,' she answers blandly. 'The mind's not so hard to understand; the brain is. But here's how I see it. Depression is bad for you.' She should know. 'You can't accomplish anything if you're stuck feeling sorry for yourself, even those who say a little hardship is good for you will agree. By lending strength to people through words or anything, you're helping them achieve what they need and want.'

Ner ner, ner ner. Ner.

[fiercefluffy.livejournal.com]

"Indeed. Self-pity tends toward stagnation." Octavian prefers to channel his feelings of woundedness into an unrelenting drive for revenge.

He does not believe her when she says people in her time know what they're doing. He believes they must be like her: well-intentioned but imprecise. (This is what he thinks of her, anyhow.)

"Achievement, and action, can be both salutary and preventative. One builds a certain momentum, and one will not stagnate. Perhaps that can be an answer to your fear as well, concerning expulsion from the Academy."

[totallyluminous.livejournal.com]

Yeah. That's healthy.

Mel would give so much for everyone in her time to be well-intentioned. Though she's proud to say the Agency's both that and precise. She'd almost forgotten about her fear, but nods as if she considers it.

'Yes, one can't worry when one's doing something.' You'd think that, anyway. But in all the training and meditation and dawn and dusk vibes, the worries still invade her mind at night, when she pulls the covers up and lies next to Brice. There ought to be a law against it. 'Thank you, Octavian. That's really helped.'