The Logos: The Meletic Testament (Chapter 22 The Legacy)
Lorient Montaner
đź“ś Chapter 22: The Legacy
1. I Heromenes, write now no longer as a student, nor as a witness, but as a guardian of my teachers' memory and legacy that I have attempted to honour with this testament.
2. Asterion's body is indeed gone from this world, and those people who knew him are scattered, yet his presence remains—quiet, persistent and unforgettable.
3. The world has suddenly changed. The streets of Athens echo with certain hymns not to nature, but to a crucified god who was but a man in flesh and bones.
4. Rome tightens its firm grip, not with swords alone, but with order—and Christians with stories that promise eternal salvation and punish human doubt.
5. In this new order, there is little room for men like Asterion and other philosophers, who asked not for belief, but for observation and awareness in people.
6. His philosophy Meleticism is not sacred in its teachings, and that is its danger to others who strongly believe in divinity must reign supreme on the earth.
7. For in a time of rising altars and falling empires, what was not divine was seen as something that was profane and threatening to the establishment that ruled over Athens.
8. They call us who profess to be Meletics, heretics or blasphemers, even though we had no gods to betray or defame.
9. They call us dangerous simply for what we aspire, even though we carry no weapons—only questions, wisdom and the truth.
10. And questions, it seems are the greatest threat of all to them; especially to those people whose power they do not wish to relinquish to others.
11. I have seen manifold scrolls burnt, not for their content contained, but for their simple rejection of divinity.
12. I have heard whispers that Meletic texts are being confiscated, hidden and even destroyed by ignorance.
13. Asterion’s name is fading from the lips of recent scholars, replaced by apostles and martyrs, who have usurped philosophy.
14. His diagrams of thought, his meditations on the cycle of life and death, are dismissed, as ancient curiosities or studies.
15. I remember the way he spoke of the wind—not as spirit, but as a natural movement that was the breath of nature.
16. I remember the way he taught us to see the world not as a stage for divine drama, but as a pattern unfolding from the Logos.
17. And I remember the way he smiled when we understood—not because we believed, but because we saw his vision.
18. That smile is the legacy I carry. Hitherto, it is the legacy of his philosophy aspired by me and others.
19. It is not a doctrine, not a creed, but a way of seeing that resists erasure and divine will that imposes over human will and intellect.
20. For even if the scrolls are burnt, the questions will still remain, to inspire the generation of philosophers to come.
21. I have begun to copy his teachings by hand, not in the grand script of the academy, but in my own modest form of lettering.
22. I hide them in clay jars beneath the floorboards of my study, beside dried figs and olive oil.
23. Let the Romans search for treason in the Pagan temples—they will not find it in the space of my pantry.
24. I teach now in certain whispers, in courtyards, in the shade of fig trees where I do not threaten nature. Thus, I present myself as the voice of Meleticism.
25. My students are few it seems with the passing days and cautious, but they listen to my knowledge expressed and taught.
26. I do not speak Asterion’s name aloud to them. Not because I fear being persecuted or mocked, but because I call him 'the old guardian', and they understand that he is nigh.
27. For what is Meleticism if not the tending of thought, the pruning of illusion, the cultivation of clarity? All of these things represent its philosophy.
28. The Christians speak of divine revelation that is incomparable to any other revelation. We the Meletics speak of emergence and awareness.
29. They speak of original sin as a serious thing. We speak of error and self-acceptance in all men in women, who take accountability for their actions in life.
30. They speak of eternal salvation. We speak of understanding and the way of the truth that allows us to embrace our fate and the path of enlightenment.
31. And although their words are louder by the day, ours are older and genuine in their essence. Philosophy has existed for centuries. Long before their Christ was revealed to the world.
32. I do not spite the Christians. I merely question their claims of certainty, their scriptures and above all, their faith.
33. I distrust their faith—a faith that they impose on all that do not echo their hymns and doctrines professed.
34. Asterion once said—The most dangerous truth is the one that cannot be sung or heard without the act of submission.
35. His truths were quiet, like the moss growing on stone. There was no divinity in his truths revealed or expressed. They were part of the logos and nous.
36. They did not shout out loud to be heard. They endured the test of time and the wrath of the zealots who sought to silence them.
37. And so I continue to write—not to defy, but to remember the legacy of a man who inspired me and taught me the philosophy of Meleticism; for which I still practise daily.
38. I write too for the child who will one day find a jar beneath the earth and wonder, what is the world that will be presented in the future.
39. I write too for the wind blowing, which carries no creed, only the movement of the Logos.
40. I write too for Asterion, who taught me that legacy is not what survives, but what insists thereafter.
41. I have dreamt of a time not yet born, when Asterion’s name will be spoken without caution, without disguise—when it will rise again not as a threat to power, but as a beacon to those people who seek the way of the truth without fear. Perhaps no longer in my life, but in the generations to come, and centuries to pass.
42. In that time, children will ask—Who was the old guardian? And their teachers will not hesitate. They will speak of him as one speaks of the first light after a long night—gently, reverently, with the kind of joy reserved for rediscovery.
43. Perhaps there will be no temples then, or perhaps they will be built not to gods, but for human understanding of the Meletic Triad—with pillars carved with the spirals of thought, altars where silence is not submission but the beginning of enquiry. And with the circle of light in the centre of the outer circles that represent To Ena, the Logos and the Nous.
44. In such a world, silence will not be feared. It will be honoured as the space where ideas take root, where the mind listens before it speaks, where wisdom grows in the absence of noise. It is not the silence of not hearing anything, but instead, the silence that one builds from awareness.
45. I do not know if I shall live to see this world. My bones grow weary, and the streets grow louder with each passing day, but I know this: I must prepare the soil, even if I never see the harvest.
46. Beneath the olive tree Asterion planted with his own hands, I have buried his diagrams—maps of thought, sketches of decay, meditations on recurrence. They rest now amongst the roots, feeding the tree as they once fed our minds.
47. I have etched his aphorisms into the underside of roof tiles, where rain and time will wear them slowly, but never fully erase them. Let the sky read his words.
48. I have taught his method to children who cannot yet read, but who watch the stars with wonder. They ask questions not to be answered quickly, but to be fully understood. In these children, I see the beginning of something Asterion would have cherished.
49. I have whispered the name of Asterion to the sea, which forgets nothing. The waves carry it farther than any scroll, farther than Rome’s reach, farther than the faith of the Christians.
50. Rome will fall one day, as all empires do. The Christians may rise, as all movements do, but they too will be faced with the rise of other philosophies.
51. The turning of thought—the quiet revolution of the mind—cannot be conquered. It does not march. It does not shout. It simply persists in its existence.
52. It is older than scripture, and younger than every child born curious. It is the pulse beneath philosophy, the breath behind every question. The philosophy of the ancient Greek thinkers will return anew. Socrates, Plato and Aristotle will be resurrected not in divinity, but through their philosophies, as well as Asterion.
53. This is Asterion’s true legacy—not a doctrine, not an academy, but a way of seeing that resists the imposition of religion or tradition.
54. It lives not in the solid marble of a structure, but in the awakened minds of people. Not in rituals performed, but in reflections shared.
55. I am not his sole heir. I am only his echo. And echoes, even though faint, travel far—bouncing off walls, carried by the wind, heard by those persons who listen closely.
56. Let them silence my voice, if they dare in their attempt. They cannot silence the voice of Asterion, whose teachings remain visible.
57. Let them burn my written scrolls or even my testament. They cannot burn the questions I pose and the message I spread.
58. For as long as one mind wonders within the philosophy of Meleticism, Asterion lives on in memory and in contemplation.
59. If he lives in even one thought, one actual moment of clarity, one refusal to accept without understanding—then he has not been forsaken nor forgotten.
60. He has become what he always taught us to seek in life: a living truth that endures in the hearts and minds of those people who were inspired by him.
61. I have come to believe that legacy is not a monument built of stone that represent the truth, but a rhythm carried in the breath of those individuals who remember.
62. It is not the echo of glory, but the murmur of influence—subtle, unclaimed, yet unmistakable in its sound and presence.
63. Asterion never sought to be remembered. He sought only to be understood for what he believed in. This was his lasting legacy to us and to others.
64. And in that genuine revelation, he became unforgettable—not because of what he demanded, but because of what he revealed to us through his message.
65. His teachings were not declarations, but inspirations—gentle openings into the nature of things, into the certain patterns that govern without command.
66. I have seen his legacy not in scrolls, but in gestures: a hand pausing before plucking a leaf, a gaze lingering on the curve of a shadow, a silence held before speaking.
67. These are not divine acts of creation. Instead, they are the natural acts of awareness and the understanding of life that are perceived through the Nous.
68. It is an awareness, in a world full of constant noise. A noise that is veiled in the ignorance of not caring for what exists beyond the material illusion of its image.
69. The Christians speak of their Christ and his return. We the Meletics speak of Asterion, as man who triumphed not over death, but over human ignorance.
70. They speak of divine intervention from a god. We speak of natural consequences of the Logos. It is when one realises the magnitude of the Logos that one can truly open their minds to its presence.
71. Even though their words are louder, ours are truer to the world as it is—not as it is imagined, but seen. We the Meletics speak with a truth that is revealed, whilst they speak of a truth that is concealed with promises.
72. I have watched the city change suddenly, watched altars rise and philosophies fall into the hands of manipulators, who seek to rewrite philosophy for the gain of religion.
73. I have seen the names of Pagan gods erased, the laws of men reshaped, the stories of history bent to suit the victors of history, who have no compassion for the vanquished ones.
74. But I have also seen the olive tree grow, year after year, indifferent to the actions of men.
75. I have seen the numerous stars above that shine return each night, untroubled by men's doctrine.
76. I have seen the stir of the wind move through the streets of Athens, carrying no creed, only presence.
77. These are the fundamental things Asterion taught us to see—not with reverence, but with recognition.
78. To see the world not as a stage for divine drama, but as a living pattern, unfolding without the need for any applause.
79. His legacy is not a lit flame to be guarded at all times, but a light to be noticed and then understood.
80. Those poeple who notice it, even once, carry it forth with them—whether they know his name or not.
81. I no longer fear the arrival of death, because I remember how bravely Asterion confronted his death, with its acceptance and his fate. This was his truth.
82. I worry only about the forgetting—not of myself, but of the way we once looked at the world as people, when we were more humble in our human nature.
83. Asterion taught that death is not an end, but a dispersal. That is life continuing the cycle of life and death. A cycle that all individuals form a part of its process.
84. The body returns to the soil of the earth, the soul to the breath of nature, the Ousia to To Ena, the One, as a reintegration. This is man's ultimate fate.
85. And in that silence of death, something remains clear—not a soul, but the way of the truth revealed for others to walk this same path in life.
86. I have walked past the tombs of several kings of glory, their names carved deep into stone marble, as a reminder of their story.
87. Yet the marble cracks, the names fade, and the kings are no longer known for what they were, but for what they claimed whilst living.
88. Asterion left no visible tomb to be seen, as was his wish. He left no temple that belonged only to him. He did not want to be entombed like the kings or emperors.
89. He left only important questions—unanswered, unguarded, alive in the minds of his students and others, who would seek the answers to those questions.
90. In those questions, I find more truth than in any oracle or structure that was built for the same purpose. I knew that Asterion's legacy was his wisdom.
91. The Meletics, do not gather in particular sanctuaries for the purpose of becoming massive in numbers, nor do they promote the concept of a divine afterlife.
92. We gather in moments—in the pause before speech, in the noticing of a bird’s flight, in the stillness between thoughts. This place has many names, but only one meaning.
93. We do not seek the truth in the way of deceit or manipulation. We philosophise with our wisdom, knowing that our message is authentic and convincing.
94. We observe. We reflect. We remain always in the thought that we should never remain stagnant in our thoughts, because we realise that we have minds to think.
95. In remaining with positive thoughts, we resist the erosion of meaning and oblivion. We concentrate on the ability to learn more knowledge, and strengthen our minds.
96. I have written these verses not to preserve Asterion solely, but to preserve the space he once open through his natural revelations that were a great part of his philosophy.
97. A unique space where thought is not a weapon to carry on the battlefield like a soldier, but a garden to tend with the awareness of its potential growth.
98. Where the truth is not some kind of prize or a reward, but an enlightening path to discover the presence of To Ena.
99. Where the self is not a physical building, but a window to see from, and to see the unfolding of life.
100. If even one reader pauses here in the moment and sees the world differently—then Asterion lives still.
101. The cypress still stands where we once gathered on several occasions previously, though no one gathers there now as we would. Perhaps, it is because few people understand the relevance of nature, as we the Meletics do.
102. Its shadow stretches across the bench, indifferent to absence and the passing of time. A shadow that appears to be the shape of Asterion's presence. He was a man endowed with a soul.
103. I sit where he once sat, not to summon him, but to feel the form of his silence with my awareness. I can sense his presence beyond this shadow that emerged.
104. There is no actual voice here, only the residue of attention that accompanies the sounds of nature that echo with such a pleasant tone.
105. Thus, the air holds him closely—not as a sound, but as the stillness and as presence. It is the interaction with the Logos and the Nous.
106. I do not speak aloud. Words feel too heavy for this place to be deafened with unnecessary words that are more of an encumbrance than an accompaniment.
107. Thought moves gently here, like the wind blowing through the dry leaves on the ground. The thoughts that I experience are genuine in their intention.
108. I remember how he moved—not with purpose, but with presence that inspired many of his students to interact with nature. He wanted us to be a part of nature.
109. He did not seek to change the world for what he was to what he should be. He sought to notice it more, and he was an example of that manifestation.
110. And in noticing, he would change us, from being merely students to being Meletics, who would continue his philosophy and more importantly, his message.
111. The city of Athens has grown louder since his death, but I still think about him with a fond reverence, as I ponder the moments when he taught me to not falter to the distractions.
112. The statues rise, voices sharpen, certainty multiplies with the coming of strangers, who bring with them their customs, traditions and religious practises.
113. Beneath the cypress, nothing asserts itself. It exists through the natural order of the Logos that serves to remind us that it is present in the world.
114. The bark peels slowly. The roots deepen. They reflect the presence of the Nous that reflects the order of the Logos.
115. And I learn again what it means to remain marvelled in my thoughts, as I observe and listen, realising that there is meaning to words and actions one expresses.
116. I have seen manifold students come with questions shaped like swords that slice, but I am prepared for these questions, because I have enhanced my wisdom.
117. They want to cut through confusion, to conquer ambiguity with only their confidence and passion. This is where they commit their unreasonable mistakes.
118. Meleticism as a philosophy, does not conquer anyone or anything. Instead, it dwells within the soul of one, where one's conscience is then awakened.
119. It does not resolve the issues of the past from the present. Instead, it attends with the awareness of the truth that demonstrates one's paragon of virtues.
120. And in attending, it reveals—not only answers, but certain patterns that unfold the order of the Logos. An order in which, we define the surrounding world.
121. Athens beyond the grove pulses with unique ambition, its streets thick with declarations and the clamour of new certainties, but here beneath the cypress, time loosens its grip and thought returns to its original pace.
122. I have come to understand that philosophy, as Asterion lived it, was never a pursuit of the truth as possession, but a cultivation of attention so complete that the truth no longer needed to be named.
123. The younger thinkers speak of systems and proofs, of dialectics and refutations, but they do so with the urgency of those persons who fear silence, as if the absence of argument were the death of meaning.
124. I have found that actual meaning, when it arrives, does so not with thunder but with the quiet weight of a leaf falling unto stone—unannounced, unresisted, complete.
125. Asterion’s death did not extinguish his presence; it merely removed the figure, leaving the field of his thought open to those persons willing to walk without guidance.
126. I have watched the seasons turn in this grove, and with each return of spring I feel less the loss of the man and more the persistence of his way, which asks nothing, claims nothing, and yet remains.
127. The teachings he left were not doctrines but gestures—subtle shifts in how one looks, how one listens, how one allows the world to be what it is without rushing to reshape it.
128. I have tried to preserve these gestures not through repetition, but through wisdom to the mood they evoke: a mood of quiet enquiry, of reverent uncertainty, and of dwelling without grasping.
129. There are days when I contemplate that Meleticism will vanish, not because it is refuted, but because it is too gentle to compete with louder philosophies that promise divinity.
130. Then I see a student pause before speaking, or linger beside a tree without reason, and I know that the thread continues—not as a rope to bind, but as a filament to guide.
131. The world does not need only more answers; it needs more ways of seeing, and Asterion offered a way that does not blind with brilliance but illuminates with patience.
132. I have come to believe that the most enduring philosophies are not those etched in stone, but those carried in the habits of attention passed quietly from one life to another.
133. Asterion’s legacy is not a school, not a lineage, not a name—it is a way of walking through the world that leaves no footprints, only a change in how the light falls.
134. If I have done anything in these years since his death, it is not to preserve him as a man of glory, but to keep open the space where his way might still be felt.
135. For in that space, beneath the cypress, amongst the stones, and shadows, his philosophy continues—not as an imposition, but as a living practice.
136. Mortality, once feared as a severing, now appears to me as a dispersal—a loosening of form into the wider field of being, where what was once a man becomes a pattern, a rhythm, a presence felt but no longer named.
137. I do not believe Asterion resides in any afterlife, nor is he reduced to dreams or visions; I find him in the way the wind moves through the cypress, in the way silence gathers before thought, in the way I hesitate before speaking. He also lives on in my memory.
138. Death did not diminish him; it clarified him, removing the distractions of personality and leaving only the essence of his wisdom, which was always the truest part of him.
139. I have come to understand that remembrance is not the act of recalling a face or a phrase, but the act of living in such a way that the remembered one continues through you, unnoticed but present.
140. And so, I do not exaggerate Asterion, for to speak of him in that way is to risk reducing him to a figure idolised, when what he offered was a way that cannot be quoted for profit, only inhabited.
141. The grove has changed little since his death, though the city beyond it has grown restless with new ideologies, each promising salvation through a god or knowledge, each louder than the last.
142. But here, beneath the cypress, the world remains unclaimed, and it is in this unclaimed space that Meleticism endures—not as a counterargument, but as an alternative rhythm.
143. I have seen students arrive with the hunger of ambition, seeking mastery, and leave with the quietude of humility, having glimpsed something that cannot be possessed.
144. They do not always return, and I do not ask them to; for if the way has touched them, it will unfold in its own time, in its own manner, beyond my reach.
145. Asterion taught that the deepest truths are not merely taught—they are more remembered, as if they were always known, waiting only to be noticed.
146. I have written these verses not to instruct, but to preserve the mood of his presence, the atmosphere of his thought, the stillness that surrounded him like a second skin.
147. There are no conclusions here, no final insights, no divine revelations to heed—only the slow unfolding of awareness, the patient turning of thought, the quiet endurance of a way that refuses to be hurried.
148. If these words survive, let them not be read as sacred doctrine, but as an invitation—an opening into a way of seeing that asks nothing but presence.
149. If they do not survive, that too is fitting, for Meleticism was never meant to be preserved only—it was meant more to be lived, experienced, then released.
150. For in the release, as in the breath between verses, the way continues—not as memory, but as motion that enlightens the mind afterwards.
151. Verily, I have come to understand that some teachings do not echo—they absorb, such in the case of Asterion's teachings.
152. Asterion’s wisdom was not only a voice but a silence too, not a torch but a clearing in the darkness, so that people could understand his form of wisdom.
153. He did not merely instruct; he mostly inspired. Those people who accepted his instruction found themselves changed without realising it, at first.
154. I have seen his influence in the way a stranger pauses before interrupting, or chooses to walk rather than speak.
155. These are not disciples. They are witnesses—unaware, unmarked, yet unmistakably touched by the message that he imparted.
156. The Meletic way does not spread like a rapid fire. Instead, it seeps like water—quiet, patient, reshaping the form of something into its true substance.
157. I have watched it in the way someone listens without preparing a reply in return. This I have noticed with my higher consciousness active.
158. In the way someone lets a question remain unanswered, not out of ignorance, but out of reverence for the truth.
159. In the way someone chooses not to correct someone, not to impose, not to offend, but more of helping a person.
160. These are the transparent signs of wisdom—not of a dogma, but of a sensibility that all human beings carry in their natural traits.
161. I do not know the names of all these individuals who practise respect, and they do not know mine, but we share something older than recognition, which is benevolence.
162. Asterion’s legacy is not a lineage—it is a looseness, a lightness, a letting go of mortality and permanence to accept one's ultimate fate after death.
163. It asks nothing but simple awareness of life, and offers nothing but genuine presence in the form of the Logos and the Nous.
164. I have come to believe that this is enough for me. It is we the people who must understand the meaning of life, and how to live that life that we seek—not with glory but with humbleness.
165. That to live with compassion is to teach without speaking. It is to reflect upon our experiences and words, as well upon our actions towards others.
166. Beneath this cypress, I do not feel alone. On the contrary, I feel that I am alive. I cannot fully explained this sensation, but it is one that fills me with joy. It is a sojourn.
167. The gentle wind moves through the branches with such effortless grace, as if remembering the presence of the Logos.
168. The bench creaks beneath me like a voice half-formed, to honour the silence that accompanies my thoughts.
169. The silence here is not empty as one would think—it is full of those seekers who have sat, and seen, and gone. They have formed a part of this place.
170. I remain, not to preserve a mere legacy, but to participate in the unfolding of the philosopher whose teachings are always present in my mind.
171. The world does not need another doctrine to be imposed with false promises. It needs another way of looking, so that the truth could be displayed naturally.
172. Asterion gave us that—not by telling us what to see, but by showing us how to see the way of the truth. With his words he gave us his wisdom. It was our knowledge that grew thereafter.
173. Once seen, the world cannot be unseen or unnoticeable any longer. It becomes present and transparent to those people who are aware of it.
174. It becomes a companion in life, not a puzzle to unravel with uncertainties or faith that cause one to be astray from human reasoning.
175. A question that does not demand an answer, only a response that exists within the soul itself. It is the soul and the self that define our character as a person.
176. I write these verses not to dictate my views on philosophy, but to remember a philosopher who inspire me to create a broader vision of Meleticism.
177. Not to define the world of illusion, but to dwell within the reality of the Logos and the Nous that give the world its natural form.
178. Not to finish the dreams and aspirations of people, but to continue the path forth of life. To be able to reach the path of enlightenment and towards To Ena.
179. For the Meletic way is not a path with an end that dooms one in failure—it is a way of walking and living. It is the way of the truth.
180. For the truest legacy is not what we leave behind as material worth, but what we allow to move through us—unnoticed, unclaimed, and enduring.
181. I’ve come to see that Asterion’s influence was never meant to be preserved in just form, but felt in the daily practice of all Meletics who followed his philosophy.
182. His way was not a path to be followed step by step, but a way of walking—attentive, unhurried, and open in its guidance.
183. I’ve seen echoes of him in people who’ve never heard his name, yet carry the same quiet regard for the world as he once did.
184. In the way they listen without rushing, or choose not to speak when silence is enough to find answers.
185. These gestures are small in their revelations, but they hold great weight to their value and justification.
186. They shift the tone of a debate, soften the edge of a conversation, slow the pace of a day.
187. Asterion never sought to change the world—he sought to meet it as it was and as it unfolded to him in life.
188. That meeting, honest and without agenda, was his teaching that inspired those students who heard his teaching, and went forth in the world to spread his message.
189. And now, it lives on in those people who choose to meet the world the same way, and to embrace the philosophy of Meleticism.
190. I do not call myself a teacher of life, nor do I claim to carry his philosophy as of my own.
191. Instead, I carry his manner, his rhythm, his patience, as I once knew of him as his loyal student.
192. When I forget at times, I return to this solitary bench, beneath this tree, and remember his immense presence
193. Not through memory alone, but through practice—through the act of sitting, waiting, and noticing as I meditate.
194. That is how the way continues—not through explanation, but through repetition and more importantly, through awareness.
195. If someone were to ask me what Meleticism is, I would proceed to answer—It is to know oneself.
196. I would invite that person to sit with me, to wait, to watch the wind move through the branches naturally, and explain to them the Logos and the Nous.
197. If they stayed long enough, they would begin to understand the words echoed in my voice that belonged to Asterion, my teacher and mentor.
198. Not because I taught them to listen closely, but because nature was their witness. This was apparent in their observations.
199. Asterion believed that life was the true teacher—we are only its students, if we choose to be in practice.
200. And so, I remain here, not only to preserve his memory, but to continue his lasting legacy. A legacy that is deserving of his persona.
201. To live as he lived as a mortal man—not unreasonably, but clearly. He who was born under the stars of the night, guided always. For I knew that in those stars above me, I could sense his presence and freedom. I too was free.
202. And in doing so, I was allowing the way of the truth to unfold within me, whithersoever it was welcomed, and through his legacy, I was invigorated.
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