The Star of David is allied with Jewish mysticism and still holds to the original representation of the star tetrahedron also known as the Merkaba.
The upward pointing star represents the sun, fire and masculine energy. The downward pointing star represents the moon, water and feminine energy. As always, when the symbol is placed within a circle we see the trinity.
In the Kabbalistic tradition the hexagon symbolizes the six directions of space, the divine union of male and female and the four elements.
This is the first official post of the Indigo School about sacred geometry. Sacred geometry is something we will never, ever stop talking about. It is referred to as the architecture of the Universe. It is one of the only subjects that appeals to both right and left brain. What appeals to the right brain is usually creative, subjective and free-form. The left brain likes logical, objective things. I’m going to start this off by talking about the Genesis Pattern. If we start from the concept of how nature/Spirit/God created life and how sacred geometry demonstrates this, it will be easier for you all to understand. This is how I first learned about sacred geometry. (Most pictures borrowed from The Ancient Secret of the Flower of Life by Drunvalo Melchizedek, Vol. 1.)
Sit down and drown out all of the sounds around you. Imagine quiet, still blackness all around you going infinitely in all directions. This is what the beginning of time is described as—an infinite void, and in this void there was God (we’re going to say Spirit since I think that is more universal and is the term used usually in this part of sacred geometry). Spirit is just floating in the blackness that you’re imagining. It has done nothing yet, no manifestations or creations. Spirit and the blackness are one. There is no time, dimension, or space. Emptiness.
Spirit cannot fall, because where would you fall to in open, infinite void? Spirit cannot logically experience any motion at all. That is, unless Spirit creates something to move relative to. Here is Spirit in the void, represented by the Eye of Horus.
Since Spirit has two options, remain doing nothing in the void or create something, it creates something.
It’s said that if we are in a pitch black room and cannot see anything, we are able to project a sensing beam from our third-eyes (this can also be done from the hands). When you project the “beam of consciousness” into the dark room for a certain distance, you are able to feel what is and isn’t in the room. There are six of the sensing rays, and they all come from the pineal gland. One ray comes from out of the front of our heads (at the third eye), and another goes out the back. One goes out of the left and the other out of the right side of our brain. Then another goes straight up (through the crown chakra) and the sixth goes straight down through our neck. These are the six directions.
Lately I’ve been camping out in the book of Genesis and noticing a pattern across the wives of the patriarchs: their prolonged, painful, pronounced state of barrenness.
A barrenness that drives most of them to make poor choices, in the midst of their agony and impatience. I can almost catch a glimpse into how their culture would have perceived a woman’s worth to be directly proportional to the number of children she bore. Into how this would have marked their entire identity and standing in society.
And in some ways, we do the exact same thing. Perhaps not with children, but with other markers of worth. We can almost measure our value based on the kind of job we have. The amount of money we make. The number of regular commitments we have. The grades we have. The bullet points on our resume. And if all that is stripped away, if all we have is that prolonged season of waiting — if all we can really do is wait, what then?
Would we respond the same way?
What would it look like to fight against the paralysis of a perceived uselessness? To break out of the stupor of self-esteem issues? To bear up under the weight of a barrenness so blatant?