THE CYCLE OF THE SOUL
Part I
The Material Life

Jozef Rulof

World Wide Web version
© 2014 'De Eeuw van Christus'

I have told all this with just a glimpse here and there to give some necessary scenes and sentiments, but I have avoided as much as possible all other incidents in my life on earth that have nothing to do with this. My main concern lies with my inner feelings and the forces that pressed themselves upon me and from which I could not extract myself. I shall only describe to you those material matters which are necessary to make it clearer to follow my story. To me, dear reader, only the influence of invisible powers and forces through which I lived, worked and acted is of importance; and which forces most likely you yourself will encounter and perhaps even experience during your lifetime on earth. Howsoever it may be, everybody will have an experience of some kind, for you are here on earth to gain experience. One person may be aware of influences and sense a guiding force, the other sleeps and has different experiences. Yet all those problems in living have a deep significance. Together we shall explore that road. I shall now continue.

I was taken to a different place, as I mentioned before, to continue my education. Here I received instruction together with many others. The one teacher tried to bring the traits of our character to awareness and an other taught us mastery of various weapons and many other things more. We rotated from teacher to teacher, but no matter how hard I studied, I could not retain what I had learned; it just did not interest me.

Months passed but I learned nothing. I had no love for all those subjects, they conflicted with me. My parents were notified, because it was thought that they could throw some light on my lack of progress, for I puzzled them and I understood this must be a terrible blow to my parents.

And so several years went by. I would soon be fifteen, but I felt myself more like twenty years old. I saw through my educators and their harsh reprimands. These did not originate with them but I sensed the familiar power of my parents behind it all. It was my mother’s will that spoke through them. My loathing for everything and everybody that was influenced by my parents grew every day, especially after each rebuke my teachers thought they had to administer.

My character began to unfold, my aversion turned to hate and increased, and I drifted further and further away from their influence. Certain characteristics became more aware in me, but every one of my feelings was in revolt, in strong rebellion against my high birth. What I had felt in my childhood as fear and kept hidden, yet not understood, I could now see clearly, though it remained impossible to grasp its total significance. It now worked like a poison in me, and showed up as contempt which changed to hate with every stab they dealt me.

All the dictatorial insults took me, as I already said, further and further away from home and from those who loved me. In my mind’s eye I saw all my ancestors pass by and I hated them too. I was now totally unreachable, I repulsed everyone and everything that had anything to do with them. Because of the sombreness I exuded I had but few friends and lived in seclusion, all alone. All this did not make my relationships any better. I sank deeper and deeper down into myself. The more harshly I was treated, the deeper I turned into myself and closed myself off, until they tried it with violence. Those strong, stiff measures too I attributed to my parents. Like others who give their love lavishly, I just was not able to learn at all. I did not feel any love for this material, it repelled me; and though I would have liked it very much, I could not act in a different way. But, then, what I really wanted I did not know either.

I was shunted from one educator to the other, but they all gave up on me. I was below average in everything, except in the arts, where I was one of the top students. During my childhood I had been fond of history, but now it was art alone and especially the plastic art of sculpture. These traits of mine were taken as a sign of an evil past. How these learned men arrived at this conclusion was a mystery to me. My feelings for art were, however, quite unpredictable by nature.

Sometimes it lay very intense and close in me, then again I did not think about it for days and I felt indifferent towards everything. They tried unsuccessfully to lay bare my true character. The sweeter the manner in which people approach me, the easier I can be reached; but to this kind of approach they were blind. Instead they used means of force, but I remained unshakeable. My character could not be fathomed nor felt and I, my ego, could not be found, so they faced an enigma.

Only I knew the answer to the riddle and could have solved it for them, but I did not. I begrudged my parents every moment of their trust in happiness. Everything I loathed, including myself. The harder they tried to communicate with me, the deeper I sank down in all that mysteriousness. A dense mist surrounded my true personality. I was obstinate and unruly. I understood that my high birth protected me, otherwise the knout would have broken every bone in my body.

Next my parents came over for a consultation. Again the thought of an illness surfaced, but this was finally entirely discarded. In various ways I was re-examined and questioned by the teachers. Nothing worked. I remained inexorable, I could not be reached or changed. I felt empty and could not think of anything, my mind was a blank. In one direction only did I have some feelings and could I answer them, understand everything and that was art. However, they ignored that subject, for I was destined for other, more useful things. I had to be made a ruler, a monarch, my lineage and my family demanded it. But I could not be made to change, although my parents differed in that viewpoint and therefore again other learned men were consulted. One of these had a feeling for art and I stayed with him for a year and a half and learned several necessities from him to complete my education.

When my eighteenth birthday drew near I returned home. The reception there was most disheartening, neither of my parents allowed me to speak a word to them. They had no feelings for me at all anymore and I sought comfort within myself again.

Many changes had taken place in my absence. All the women who had instructed and taken care of me were gone and so were the parents of Marianne. Since they were all suspected of having contributed to my downfall, they had been dismissed. My old nurse, whom I had loved so much, had been treated in a most shameful manner. I found this out when I went around the neighbourhood, for there were still people who trusted me. Also my father’s aged servant gave me his trust, but I had to promise to keep it a secret, for otherwise it would also be the end of him. A servant who went against his master’s wishes had to pay with his life. We still possessed a torture chamber to squeeze the secrets out of victims and because I understood this I gave him my oath that not a hair on his old grey head would be touched on my account.

A horrible mood pervaded the house, something was about to happen, but what? I avoided my parents as much as possible and I did not dare appearing at the dinner table, nor was I ever invited. I truly had no idea what I was going to do. I did not have enough knowledge to assume the care of the estate. And to introduce myself to all the nobles as the heir would promise a disaster. My parents would not survive the disgrace.

All this news I heard from my father’s servant, who was my only link with them. He taught me how to conduct myself if I wanted to come through this conflict alive. They were capable of anything. Mercenaries and hangman’s helpers were available in abundance. In truth I shrank from a fate like that, my body was too dear to me.

Was it cowardice and was I then unfit for anything, a good-fornothing? I began to ask myself questions, but there was no answer. For days on end I loafed around the neighbourhood alone and abandoned, thinking of the beautiful time that was past. The place where I had played with Marianne was now my favourite spot. Sometimes the tears would run down my cheeks and I felt myself the most unhappy person in the whole wide world. Yet, I was rich, I possessed everything, it would only mean happiness in an earthly sense. That kind of happiness was of no value to me, I hated it and hold it in contempt. The last few days that hate had increased, I began to feel it as a curse.

Did a curse rest upon me? Why was I not the way they wanted me to be? From where sprang that empty, incomprehensible feeling in me? Why was I not like my ancestors, a true Dumonché? Why did I differ from them, from all those others who had carried the name before me? Many questions rose in me, but not one received an answer, which made me very dejected. When such sadness assailed me and I descended deep down within myself, then it seemed to me that I was not alone. That fleeting thought was pushed aside again by others.

My parents’ feelings haunted me; they drove me on from early morning till late in the evening. At night I dreamt, raving deliriously and could not fall asleep. I felt uneasy and fearful and that puzzled me, so that I incessantly worried about it. It had to do with me, of that I was sure.

Weeks passed but there was no let up, on the contrary, the atmosphere in our house became more explosive. In the long run this could not continue, something had to give. Therefore I began to think about my future.

If I should do my best and speak to my parents, so that we could come to an agreement? But then again I dropped back into my own world and was not able to think properly, for I was not my usual self. How would I get to know myself? From where did those forces come to me? How was I to utilize these so that I could change myself and learn better? Around and in me lay a mysterious haze. I must attempt to speak to them, for I wanted to know what it was that they now wished me to do; after that I at least would know where I stood.

I asked for a consultation, but they refused to see me. For the second time they refused to receive me. The hate within me flared up again and that was no help to our strained relations.

I began to think anew and tried to compare their situation with mine. I started at the very beginning with the moment of my birth. Their love for me, their happiness I felt, I tried to decipher their intentions, assess the pros and cons from their point of view. But I revolted. They did not have the right to withhold their parental love, was my conclusion. Just because I lacked the feelings and the will to rule others, which were the traits my forefathers possessed liberally, was no reason to treat me like this. They should accept me as I was, but they thought my attitude was one of unwillingness. One problem had become clear to me and I would speak to them about it, if they would allow me.

Now I must figure out the other feelings which concerned myself. But I stumbled already over the first thought that came to my mind. For why did I hold my parents and everything belonging to them in contempt? At a very early age those feelings had come to me already; they had not changed, on the contrary, they had grown stronger. Why? For what? It spoiled my life and theirs. It brought me to revolt when I was a child; it gnawed at their hearts and darkened their happiness. I wanted to rid myself of these feelings, but could I? For hours on end I thought about this baffling phenomenon. But my inner feelings for changing myself were strangled and my will for action broken. I felt that I could not rise above myself. My strength and will were computed to raise my thinking and acting up to a certain level, but to change my feelings was impossible, for then my will became weakened. I continued to think, feel and love in one direction only.

Still I kept trying to view their lineage and possessions from a different angle, but I always got stuck. I felt a stranger, but yet I walked on our own grounds. This was our property and here I should be happy, but how did I feel at this time and also in my childhood? I resisted this feeling, I wanted to be different, be happy and change myself completely into what a Dumonché ought to be. There was nothing the matter with my health. I felt strong and powerful. For days I remained in this state. But still my contempt returned, my hate for everything grew, and I cursed the moment I was born here. I was powerless against that mood, it was stronger than I, it destroyed the will to become what they would very much like me to be.

Very unexpectedly they sent for me one morning. It was a great surprise to me. The reception was cool and reserved. With them I saw two learned men, at least that’s what I felt they were.

My father spoke to me as follows: ‘We want a last examination, put yourself at their disposal.’

I inclined my head and went over to them. My mother’s gaze stabbed right through me, it held not the smallest trace of love. There was not the slightest change in either of them. To them I was an inferior character, a problem, a low individual who had ruined their future, their happiness and trust.

I begged an other and higher power forgiveness if I were mistaken in my sentiments. I myself was in a strange state and felt not in the least attracted to them. As soon as I established that fact, the good intentions I had felt towards them these last few days, evaporated. Disdain returned and hate killed my good intentions. A wall was pulled up between them and me and we were further apart than ever before. They were strangers, people without a trace of love.

The learned men went into the adjoining room. I had to undress first and lie down on a couch. My parents had followed us in. I did as they wished and behaved very humble, an unknown peaceful feeling lay in me. They gave me something that made me feel dizzy. Dizziness changed into weariness and I know I was falling asleep and then there was nothing more. I became aware that I was waking up and remembered at once what had happened. It was now night. Beside my bed I saw a shadow, it was holding my hand. I also saw that it was a human being enveloped in a haze. I was fully aware of what I observed. Presently I fell asleep again and then I had a dream.

I dreamt that I was an artist and lived in an other city. Honour and fame lay at my feet. In the building where I lived I was working on a large-sized sculpture that I idolized. I had a great love for what I had created, because a feeling of great happiness flowed through me. Although I looked much older, I could recognize myself clearly. I felt that I was in love with someone, but did not possess the object of that love. Next I became aware of a man, who radiated a greenish light. That figure frightened me and gave me the shivers. He was bitterly resentful towards me and appeared to be my enemy. I hated him too, but yet he lived close in my surroundings. He was a very good-looking young man, an adonis. We were expecting visitors. He was going to introduce me to someone, but I did not know who it would be.

All of a sudden a blinding hate rose up in me, I jumped him unexpectedly and struck him down. I had killed a man and was a murderer. At the same instant I woke up; the cold sweat stood on my forehead. I knew what I had dreamt. I remembered everything, however, I shrugged it off as being the result of the examination. It was all still so clear to me that picture by picture passed before my mind without my effort. Then I fell asleep again.

The sun had reached its highest point when I awoke again. Beside my bed sat the two savants who had examined me. They asked me how I felt. I told them I was wonderfully rested and wanted to know their findings.

‘We are satisfied’, they said.

I thanked them, but thought other rebellious things at the same time, because I sensed that they would not or could not give me the truth.

I had to remain in bed for a few days before I was allowed to move about freely. Those days passed by uneventfully. The following day I was summoned. That was a sign that the result of the examination was in my favour. Upon entering, my parents asked me how I felt, which highly surprised me. The set face of my mother showed a slight amiability and rapprochement and her attitude was somewhat milder.

I told them how I felt and those were all the words that were spoken between us. They went away and I was left to myself again; I sauntered through the neighbourhood to gather new strength. My father had gone hunting and my mother was aimlessly occupied with other things. How I loathed their kind of life.