A Luminous Sisyphus

A Yogic Perspective

All that animates us is a miracle of the lower gods. The temporal unfurlment of this variedly hued magic light is yet at its source and peaks, a minor footnote, a brief efflorescence and not the final word on the human condition.

There is a greater light, a lofty peak that is yet to be scaled, stood upon only to scheme our approach to the next peak.

The labour of Sisyphus is wrongly understood.

Sisyphus and his eternally rolling rock are not the conquest at the junction of a single hill. Sisyphus scales in his recurrent cycles hill upon greater hill.

Sisyphus is not a doomed mortal or a failing god. He is the very symbol of a greater than human that now wears a mask of flesh and impotency, that shall be cast away layer by layer, on its quest to scale mountain upon mountain heaped so high until it reaches the very top of the world-stair.

Sisyphus is the symbol of a will to conquer. The smith in the quarry of the Gods who will hammer his ascent from the void and the unyielding stone of existence.

He will compel the high God to emerge. He is the unyielding impulse, the unstoppable Agni.

This is us. Our agency.

Hence all that blocks the Yoga shall yield. Must yield.

(Note: For those on the path of Integral Yoga, their efforts might seem Sisyphean, without an end, a night prolonged and dawn postponed. But the reality is not so.)

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.