The Buried Will (Η Θάφτη Εντολή)

-From the Meletic Scrolls.

In the quiet caverns of the self, the will sometimes lies dormant, not dead, but buried. It is not a will of brute dominance, not one that strives to control or conquer, but a more intimate and resilient will. It is the will to be present. In Meletic thought, this will is a silent and enduring flame of inner intention. It seeks not to assert, but to align. It does not rise in rebellion but awakens in resonance.

At times, this will is shrouded beneath the sediments of life, such as fear, fatigue, trauma, conditioning and the detritus of disappointment. What was once clear becomes distorted. What once pulsed with direction now lies still. In such moments, the task is not to invent a new will, but to uncover the buried one and to engage in a conscious excavation of the self.

In Meletic philosophy, will is not reduced to desire, ambition or effort. It is instead the inner inclination towards being. It is the volitional current that connects the soul to its purpose. This will is not imposed by society or ego; it emerges from the soul. It is the living companion within the self. It seeks coherence with (To Ένa) the One, and expression through the Logos (cosmic order).

Thus, the will is not something we choose to possess. It is something we eventually know. It precedes our stories, our identities, even our awareness. It belongs not to personality, but to presence. It is less about what we want to do, and more about what we are meant to become.

The world is not always conducive to the blossoming of the will. Life introduces constraints; some external, others internal. Over time, fear teaches us to silence our deeper impulses. Memory stores pain, regret and mistaken conclusions about what we are allowed to want. Fatigue dulls the active spark of initiative.

Through repetition and resignation, a person may gradually abandon their own volitional centre, not knowingly, but protectively. In doing so, we do not lose the will, but we misplace its voice. We forget how to listen attentively.

In Meletic terms, this process of burial is not sin or error; it is part of the condition of existence. But we must not remain buried. The soul still calls for the will to be reclaimed. Silence, if it persists too long, can become personal inertia.

To uncover the buried will is not to perform an act of domination. It is not an effort of sheer motivation or willpower. Rather, it is a process of introspective listening. It is a rediscovery of inner direction beneath the noise of the world.

This Meletic excavation is not violent. It is contemplative. We sit in stillness. We observe the layers, such as fear, fatigue, memory, and we do not fight them. We acknowledge them. We let them pass like a shroud of mist. In the clearing, a faint spark begins to flicker. This spark is the will, not reinvented, but remembered.

In this remembering, we do not demand answers. We do not chase goals. We ask softly the relevant question. What is it that I am meant to become? We listen without expectation. In that listening, the will begins to rise, not with drama, but with clarity.

This return to intention does not always require immediate action. Often, the act of remembrance itself is the most crucial movement. To feel again the presence of a deep inner inclination, however quiet, is already to begin to walk towards wholeness.

When the buried will emerges, it is not aggressive. It does not clench the fists or raise the voice. It speaks in clarity, not command. Its strength is not in its loudness, but in its certainty. It is felt as, a subtle resolve that no longer needs external validation, a movement that begins from stillness, a direction that feels more like remembering than deciding or a return to one's nature, not as past identity, but as essential alignment.

This kind of will does not disrupt life but reorders it. The Meletic soul becomes realigned with the inner compass of Logos. Intention flows anew. Action becomes quiet truth. In this sense, the reawakened will is not about striving; instead, it is about allowing the soul to express itself authentically in alignment with the the presence of the cosmos.

Even with awareness, the will may remain buried if we are unwilling to remove the soil that covers it. Amongst the most common barriers are the fear of authenticity, which reminds us that to follow the will is to leave the false self behind. This can feel like abandonment, even betrayal, of long-held identities. Then there is the attachment to certainty, which reminds us that the buried will often asks us to trust what we feel more than what we know. This can feel risky to the analytical mind. Finally, there is the the fatigue of the soul, which reminds us that when one has tried and failed repeatedly, the soul grows weary. Meleticism teaches us that the will is a part of our human nature.

To address these barriers is to enter into the inner work of courage and truth. The soul must be patient with the self. Time must be given to regain what time has buried.

Meletic meditation is one of the principal means by which the buried will is uncovered. In this practice, one withdraws from the chaos of thought and descends into the quiet strata of being. Each level of awareness, such as found in the mind, soul, body, nature and beyond, then offers insight into what has been forgotten.

Meditation is not an escape from life. It is a descent into what is most real. Within that descent, the voice of the will becomes audible again. Not all at once, and not always clearly. But it speaks. It whispers. It waits.

One may pass through the states of Meletic meditation, such as the balance of mind, the flow of being, the awareness of cosmic order and in each state, a piece of the will is revealed. As if unearthing something whole but long hidden in time.

The unburied will is never neutral; for it is ethical. Not in the sense of moral rules, but in the sense of orientation towards the truth. It does not seek harm. It should not impose. It seeks balance and expression. It aligns with the Meletic virtues, such as temperance, reason, perseverance, wisdom and humbleness.

When the will is truly uncovered, it leads not to pride, but to purpose. Not to selfishness, but to participation in the great order of being. In that participation, one’s actions begin to resonate with To Ena, not as submission, but as harmony.

Once uncovered, the will gently becomes the path. It does not ask for a complete plan. It simply begins with the first movement. That may be silence. It may be a word spoken. A walk taken. A decision delayed or made.

The buried will, once unearthed, does not surge forth. It flows. In this flowing, the self begins to feel whole again, not because it has found a new ambition, but because it has recovered alignment with To Ena.

This alignment is the foundation of Meletic restoration. The buried becomes visible. The forgotten becomes lived. The fragmented becomes whole. The will, once silenced by confusion, now sings in quiet unity with being itself.

The buried will is not a loss. It is a pause. It is the will saying, I await your return when you are ready to remember me. It has no ego. It bears no resentment. It simply waits. Still intact, still patient in duration.

To uncover it is not to triumph, but to restore. It is not to impose, but to listen. It is not to push ahead, but to be drawn inwards, and from there, to act outwards once more.

In Meletic thought, the journey of uncovering the will is one of the noblest human endeavours. It is the silent reclamation of one's own source. When that source is truly found, all things that follow, such as action, creation and movement are illuminated by the quiet flame that had never gone out, only hidden. The human will is powerful, when it has purpose.

Recommend Write a ReviewReport