Prelude:  

… One of these days Jupiter is going to destroy the Bridge. It'll go flying away into little flinters, into the storms. My mind will be there, supervising some puny job, and my mind will go flying away along with my mechanical eyes and ears and hands – still trying to adapt to the unthinkable, tumbling away into the winds and the flames and the rains and the darkness and the pressure and the cold - …

James Blish “They Shall Have Stars - Cities in Flight Book 1”

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Seven Parables
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THE UNTHINKABLE

 I. "The garden stands revealed.  In ordered beauty live its flowers and trees.  The murmur of the bees and insects on their winged flight is heard on every side.  The air is rich with perfume.  The colours riot to the blue of heaven....

The wind of God, the breath divine, sweeps through the garden....Low lie the flowers.  Bending, the trees are devastated by the wind.  Destruction of all beauty is followed by the rain.  The sky is black.  Ruin is seen.  Then death....

Later, another garden!  but the time seems far away.  Call for a gardener.  The gardener, the soul, responds.  Call for the rain, the wind, the scorching sun.  Call for the gardener.  Then let the work go on.  Ever destruction goes before the rule of beauty.  Ruin precedes the real.  The garden and the gardener must awake!  The work proceeds.

THE WINDS

II. "The Scholars know the truth. All is revealed to them. Surrounded by their books, and sheltered in their world of thought, they burrow like moles, and find their way into the darkness; they arrive at knowledge of the world of natural things. The eye is closed. Their eyes are opened wide. They dwell within their world in deep content.

Detail on detail enters into the content of their world of thought. They store the nuggets of the knowledge of the world, as a squirrel stores its nuts.  The storehouse now is adequately full....Sudden a spade descends, for the thinker tends the garden of thought, and thus destroys the passages of mind. Ruin arrives, destroying fast the storehouse of the mind, the safe security, the darkness and the warmth of a satisfied enquiry.  All is removed.  The light of summer enters in and the darkened crannies of the mind see light....Naught is left but light, and that cannot be used. The eyes are blinded and the one eye seeth not as yet....

Slowly the eye of wisdom must be opened.  Slowly the love of that which is the true, the beautiful and good must enter the dark passages of worldly thought.  Slowly the torch of light, the fire of right must burn the garnered treasures of the past, yet show their basic usefulness....

The seven ways of light must wean away the attention of the Scholars from all that has been found and stored and used.  This they repulse and find their own way into that Hall of Wisdom which is built upon a hill, and not deep under ground.  Only the opened eye can find this way."

THE FLAMES

III. "Surrounded by a multitude of threads, buried in folds and folds of woven goods, the Weavers sit.  No Light can enter where they sit.  By the light of a tiny candle, carried upon the summit of their heads, they dimly see. They gather handful after handful of the threads and seek to weave the carpet of their thoughts and dreams, their desires and their aims. Their feet move steadily; their hands work swiftly; their voices, without cessation, chant the words: We weave the patterns which we seek and like. The warp and woof is planned by our desires. We gather here a thread and here a colour. We gather there another.  We blend the colours and we mix and blend the threads.  As yet we cannot see the pattern, but it will surely measure up to our desires.'

Loud voices, and a movement from outside the darkened chambers where the Weavers sit; the voices grow in volume and in power.  Windows break and, though the Weavers cry aloud, blinded by the sudden light, the sun shines in upon their woven carpets whose ugliness is thus revealed....

A voice proclaims:  'Look from out thy windows, Weavers, and see the pattern in the skies, the model of the plan, the colour and the beauty of the whole.  Destroy the carpets which you have for ages wrought.  They do not meet your need....Then weave again, Weavers.  Weave in the light of day.  Weave, as you see the plan."

THE RAINS

IV. "'We take and mix and blend. We bring together that which we desire. We harmonise the whole.'

Thus spoke the Mixers, as they stood within their darkened chambers.  'We realise the unseen beauty of the world.  Colours we know and sounds we know.  We hear the music of the spheres, and note on note and chord on chord, it speaks its thoughts to us. The voices which we hear intrigue and draw us, and with the sources of these sounds We seek to work. We seek to paint and blend the pigments needed. We must create the music which will draw to us those who like the pictures we make, the colours which we blend, the music which we can evoke. Us they will therefore like, and us, they will adore....'

But crashing came a note of music, a chord of sound which drove the Mixers of sweet sounds to quiet. Their sounds died out within the Sound and only the great chord of God was heard.

A flood of light poured in. Their colours faded out.  Around them naught but darkness could be seen, yet in the distance loomed the light of God. They stood between their nether darkness and the blinding light. Their world in ruins lay around. Their friends were gone.  Instead of harmony, there was dissonance.  Instead of beauty, there was found the darkness of the grave....

The voice then chanted forth these words:  'Create again, my children, and build and paint and blend the tones of beauty, but this time for the world and not for yourselves.'  The Mixers started their work anew and worked again."

THE DARKNESS

V. "Deep in a pyramid, on all sides built around by stone, in the deep dark of that stupendous place, minds and brains (embodied in humanity) were working.  Outside the pyramid, the world of God established itself.  The sky was blue; the winds blew free; the trees and flowers opened themselves unto the sun.  But in the pyramid, down in its dim laboratory, the Workers stood, toiling at work. Their test tubes and their frail appliances they used with skill.  In rows and rows, the retorts for fusing, and for blending, for crystallising and for that which sought division, stood with their flaming fires.  The heat was great.  The toil severe....

Dim passages, in steady progress, led upward to the summit.  There a wide window stood, open unto the blue of heaven, and carrying one clear ray down to the workers in the depths....They worked and toiled.  They struggled onwards toward their dream, the vision of an ultimate discovery. They sometimes found the thing they sought, and sometimes failed; but never found that which could give to them the key to all the rest....In deep despair, they cried aloud unto the God they had forgoten: 'Give us the key.  We alone can do no more good.  Give us the key.'  Then silence reigned....

Through the opening on the summit of the pyramid, dropped from the blue of heaven, a key came down.  It landed at the feet of the discouraged workers.  The key was of pure gold; the shaft of light; upon the key a label, and writ in blue, these words:  'Destroy that which thou has built and build anew.  But only build when thou has climbed the upward way, traversed the gallery of tribulation and entered into light within the chamber of the king.  Build from the heights, and thus shew forth the value of the depths.'

The Workers then destroyed the objects of their previous toil, sparing three treasures which they knew were good, and upon which the light could shine. They struggled towards the chamber of the king.  And still they struggle."

THE PRESSURE

VI. "'We love and live and love again,' the frenzied Followers cried aloud, blinded by their desire for teachers and the truth, but seeing naught but that which lay before their eyes. They wore on either side the blinding aids of every fanatics divine adventure.  Only the long and narrow tunnel was their home and place of high endeavor.  They had no vision except of that which was the space before their eyes. They had no scope for sight,—no height, no depth, no wide extension. They had but room to go one way. They went that way alone, or dragging those who asked the way of them. They saw a vision, shifting as they moved, and taking varying form; each vision was to them the symbol of their highest dreams, the height of their desire.

They rushed along the tunnel, seeking that which lay ahead. They saw not much and only one thing at a time,—a person or a truth, a bible or their picture of their God, an appetite, a dream, but only one!  Sometimes they gathered in their arms the vision that they saw, and found it naught.  Sometimes, they reached the person whom they loved and found, instead of visioned beauty, a person like themself.  And thus they tried. They wearied of their search; they whipped themselves to efforts new. The opening dimmed its light.  A shutter seemed to close.  The vision they had seen no longer shone.  The Followers stumbled in the dark.  Life ended and the world of thought was lost...Pendent they seemed. hung with naught below, before, behind, above.  To them, naught was.

From deep within the temple of their heart, they heard a Word.  It spoke with clarity and power:  'Look, deep within, around on every hand.  The light is everywhere, within the heart, in Me, in all that breathes, in all that is.  Destroy the tunnels, which you have for ages long constructed.  Stand free, in custody of all the world.'  The Followers answered:  'How shall we break our tunnel down?  How can we find a way?'  No answer came....

Another pilgrims in the dark came up, and groping, found the Followers.  'Lead us and others to the Light,' they cried.  The Followers found no words, no indicated Leaders, no formulas of truth, no forms or ceremonies. They found themselves leaders, and drew others to the light,—the light that shone on every hand.  They worked and struggled forward. Their hand held others, and for their sake, they hid their shame, their fear, their hopelessness and their despair. They  uttered words of surety and faith in life, and light and God, in love and understanding....

Their tunnel disappeared. They noticed not its loss.  Upon the playground of the world they stood with many fellow-players, wide to the light of day.  In the far distance stood a mountain blue, and from its summit issued forth a voice which said:  'Come forward to the mountain top and on its summit learn the invocation of a Saviour.'  To this great task the Followers, now leaders, bent their energies. They still pursue this way...."

THE COLD

VII. "Under an arch between two rooms, the Magicians stood.  One room was full of light and life and power, of stillness which was purpose and a beauty which was space.  The other room was full of movement, a sound of great activity, a chaos without form, of work which had no true objective.  The eyes of the Magicians were fixed on chaos. They liked it not. Their back was towards the room of vital stillness. They knew it not.  The arch was tottering overhead....

They murmured in despair:  'For ages we have stood and sought to solve the problem of this room; to rearrange the chaos so that beauty might shine forth, and the goal of our desires. We sought to weave these colours into a dream of beauty, and to harmonise the many sounds.  Achievement lacks.  Naught but our failure can be seen.  And yet we know there is a difference between that which we can see before our eyes and that which we begin to sense behind our backs.  What shall we do?'

Above the head of the Magicians, and just behind their backs, and yet within the room of ordered beauty, a magnet vast began to oscillate....It caused the revolution of them, within the arch, which tottered to a future fall.  The magnet turned them round until they faced the scene and room, unseen before....

Then through the centre of their hearts the magnet poured its force attractive.  The magnet poured its force repulsive.  It reduced the chaos until its forms no longer could be seen.  Some aspects of a beauty, unrevealed before, emerged.  And from the room a light shone forth and, by its powers and life, forced the Magicians to move forward into light, and leave the arch of peril."

Text excerpts from Alice A Bailey "Esoteric Psychology" p166 - 172 [case edited] 
Lucis Publishing 1942
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SPECULATIONS

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Sixty Year Cycles
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1640 - 1720 : [61] "The Idealistic Powerbrokers"

1721 - 1781 : [72] "The Balanced Consciousness"

1782 - 1842 : [13] "The Pioneering Activators"

1843 - 1903 : [24] "The Holding Mediums"

1904 - 1964 : [35] "The Versatile Scientists"

1965 - 2025 : [46] "The Local Heroes" 

2026 - 2086 : [57] "The Radiating Organisers"

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Thirty One Year Cycles
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World War One 1914 – 1945  
Growth of  Organization vs glamours of will

World War Two 1946 – 1977
Growth of  Idealism vs glamours of consciousness

World War Three 1978 – 2009
Growth of Science vs glamours of active intelligence

World War Four 2010 – 2041
Growth of Harmony Through Crises vs glamours of harmony through conflict

World War Five  2042  –  2073
Growth of Active Intelligence vs glamours of science

World War Six 2074 –  2105
Growth of Consciousness vs glamours of idealism

World War Seven 2106 – 2137
Growth of Will vs glamours of organization

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Sixteen Year Cycles
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1868>1876<1884 "Will"

1885>1893<1911 "Consciousness"

1912>1920<1928 "Active Intelligence"

1929 >1937 <1945 "Harmony Through Crises" *

1946 >1954<1962 "Science"

1963 >1971< 1979 "Idealism"

1980 >1988< 1996 "Organization"

1997>2005<2013 "Transition"

2014>2022<2030 "Initiation"