Freemasonry. Seven Steps of Silence a philosophica

Freemasonry. Seven Steps of Silence
(a philosophical drama in dialogues, with elements of mysticism, symbolism, and inner transformation)

Epigraph:
“Let the brother who came in darkness find at least one hand—so that he does not walk alone.”


Author’s Preface

Sometimes all we need is one fire,
one star,
and one voice that says:
you are not alone.

This book is not about secrets —
it is an inner secret,
remembered step by step.

There are no teachings here.
But there is a meeting.

You, the one reading these lines —
you are no random passerby.

If you paused,
if you felt a stir in your chest,
if something inside you answered —
then we are already sitting by the same fire.

May this book be not just a text,
but a small flame in your hand —
the one you will carry onward
to where others still wait.


BY THE FIRE

A philosophical drama about awakening, brotherhood, and the inner path
Author: Daniel Ryberg


Dedication

This book is dedicated to all those
who inspired me to seek answers,
and to those who once waited for them.

May everyone holding these pages
quench at least a part of their thirst for Knowledge…

…and remember:
the fire did not die —
it was simply waiting for you.
— Daniel Ryberg


Table of Contents

PART I. BY THE FIRE
Where memory begins

1. A Meeting in the Smoke


2. Words in Silence


3. Compass and Stillness



PART II. THE INNER TEMPLE
Where stones are thoughts, and walls — trust in oneself
4. The City as a Labyrinth
5. A Call Among the Showcases
6. The Old Library
7. Staircase to the Window
8. The Hidden Room Within

PART III. SEVEN STEPS OF SILENCE
Meditative dialogues with the self
9. First Step: Accept
10. Second: Forgive
11. Third: Release
12. Fourth: Remember
13. Fifth: See
14. Sixth: Open
15. Seventh: Be

PART IV. THE VOW WITHOUT WORDS
Where He and She meet
16. The Snow Station
17. The Woman with Forest Eyes
18. The Trial Without Questions
19. The Altar Between Palms

PART V. THE RETURN PATH
Where you return changed
20. Encounter with the Shadow
21. Raphael Returns
22. The Last Fire
23. A New Brother
24. The Temple Without Walls

Book of Sayings / Quotes


PART I. BY THE FIRE

Chapter One: The Call in Silence

Night. Mountains.
Wind whispering among stones.
Pine branches crackle in the fire,
casting sparks into the black sky.

He sits on a stump,
a simple jacket on his shoulders,
a thermos of coffee in his hands.
His fingers tremble — but not from the cold.
Something within will not let him rest.

He watches the flame
as if waiting for an answer.

— Why am I alone?.. — he says aloud, to no one in particular.
— Why do I wake each morning with the sense that someone ancient is looking through my eyes?
What are you trying to tell me, brother from another age? Why can’t I sleep?..



A voice responds slowly, from the shadows:

 — Because you have awakened.
And those who awaken — cannot sleep again.
Not even in the warmth of illusions.



He flinches. Looks up.
Out of the darkness steps a man —
in an old-fashioned coat,
calm, with eyes that hold a burning star.

— Where… did you come from? I didn’t call...
— You didn’t call, — the man smiles gently.
— But your soul whispered, brother.
And when we hear the call — we do not sleep.



— Are you… one of them? From the Order?..
— From those who sought Light, not power.
Who remained silent when all around were shouting.
Who built not temples — but inner staircases.
I lived when Freemasonry still remembered
that it is a path — not a club.



He lowers his eyes.

— Today… everything feels empty.
Symbols are souvenirs.
Values are for display.
People are afraid to search.
And those who search — don’t find.
I am alone.



 — No, — the stranger replies softly.
— You are at the threshold.
And that is the most sacred point of the path.



Pause. Fire crackles. Smoke climbs toward the stars.

— In our lodges, there were both the blind and the seeing, — he continues.
There were careerists — and there were quiet builders of the spirit.
And you’re wrong to think it was brighter back then.
It was darker outside —
so the light within seemed more radiant.
With you, it’s the opposite.


 — You… know our world?
— I feel it through you.
You are my bridge.



— So what should I seek?
Symbols? Knowledge? Brotherhoods?
Or just… stop seeking?



 — You are seeking yourself.
Don’t turn away from the path.
But remember:
Freemasonry is not a lodge or a ring.
It is the flame you must carry —
even when others laugh or remain silent.
It is inner work —
that needs no audience.
It is this:
a conversation by the fire
with someone you’ve never met,
but who’s always been near.
It is you and me — right now.
Do you understand?



He says nothing. Long silence.
He watches the fire.

Then pours coffee into a tin cup —
and silently offers it to the guest.
The man receives it with a light nod.

 — We had tea.
You have coffee.
But it’s not about the drink.
It’s about the one who drinks.



Pause. Smoke rises.
Somewhere in the distance, a night bird sings.
 — Will you stay with me until sunrise?
— I am always with you, brother.
Just remember.
And go.



He disappears into the smoke.
The fire remains.
The cup remains.
I remain.

Silence.
Dawn begins.


Chapter Two: Signs and the Forgotten

Same place. The fire is fading.
I sit wrapped in a blanket.
The coffee is cold.
But inside — warmth.

Raphael leans against a tree.

I (whispering):

You’re not a dream.
Not a ghost.
I can feel you — more solid than many who live.
Are you here because I… arrived?



Raphael:

 You didn’t arrive.
You stopped.
And only in that stillness could I approach.
(pause)
Tell me — do you wear a mask?



I (sighs):

Oh yes.
One for work.
One for family.
Another when I look in the mirror.
I choose my expressions like clothes.
And then I grow tired.
I just want to be —
but I no longer know who that is.



Raphael:

And yet once — you knew.
You were a child who loved rain.
Who wasn’t afraid of the dark.
You spoke to trees.
You believed the world could be understood —
not with words, but with skin.



I (with a shiver):
 Yes… I drew circles in the dust…
thought they were portals…
And one day, something actually answered.



Raphael:

Then listen again.
What you called play — was training.
What you thought was chance — was a meeting.
We, the elder brothers, don’t teach —
we remind.



I:

But how do I live in this world?
It buzzes like a market…
Thousands of opinions, endless “musts,” “hurry,” “don’t forget.”
Symbols are devalued, words are empty,
and silence is seen as weakness.



Raphael:

Then it’s all the more important —
to return Strength to silence.
And Radiance to symbols.
You won’t change the world.
But you can become a tuning fork.
One who attunes himself —
and thus, helps attune others.



(pause. The fire is almost out. Raphael takes a stick and draws a circle in the ashes.)

Raphael:

Here is a circle.
What do you see?



I:

 Well… a circle.
Wholeness. Unity. Eternity.
A symbol of spirit?



Raphael (watching intently):

 Now — stand up.
And step into it.



(I stand and slowly step into the drawn circle.)

Raphael:

Now you are in the center.
And the whole world — lies beyond.
This is where the Path begins.
This is where we made vows
that no one heard —
except our own soul.



I (whispers, almost entranced):

Can I… stay here?
In this circle.
In this state.
You are my brother.
I feel it.
Maybe I’ve always waited for this meeting?



Raphael:

You created it.
You called —
through books,
through dreams,
through pain.
You came — not because you knew.
But because you could no longer not come.



(Silence. The stars fade. Dawnlight appears.)

Raphael:

 It’s nearly sunrise.
I must return into the deep.
But I’ll leave you something.



(He takes a small wooden compass from his belt. Hands it over.)

Raphael:

 This won’t point North.
But it will tremble when you stray from yourself.
Look at it — not with your eyes.
But with your heart.
And if you ever find yourself by the fire again —
I’ll return.



I:

 You… who are you, really?



Raphael:

 I — am you.
From another time.
From another step.
And you — are me.
On the way home.


(Raphael disappears. Smoke remains. Silence. A warm compass rests in my palm. I smile — truly, for the first time.)


Chapter Three: Return to the Noise

Morning. City. People rushing, cars honking, screens flickering. The sunlight is cold and sharp. The protagonist (I) walks with a thermos of coffee, wearing the same jacket from the fire. But his eyes have changed. They’ve grown deeper. Inside— the compass. It is silent, but alive.

I (inner monologue): I'm among people again. The noise has returned. Ads, traffic, banality. But something has shifted. Inside me— there is silence.

(He walks past a street caf;. An old man mumbles to himself. A girl looks at the sky, smiling. A man in a suit is angrily yelling into his phone.)

I (inner): Everyone is in their own labyrinth. I was, too. And maybe I will be again. But now I have Ariadne’s thread. Raphael’s words didn’t vanish. They embedded themselves into my breath. And here I am. In their world. But also—in mine.

(Approaches a bus stop. Inside the bus—crowds, silent discontent.)

Woman (grumbling): Well, late again. As always.

I (quietly, with a light smile): No. Today is different.

(He turns. Sees a young man reading a book titled “Freemasonry: Symbols and Secrets.” Their eyes meet. Silently. In understanding. The young man nods. Uncertain.)

I (softly): If you are seeking—then you’ve already found. The path isn’t in the book. It’s in you.

Young Man (surprised): You… too?

I (smiling): I’m just a passerby. But once, by a fire, I spoke to myself… through another. Since then—I’ve simply walked. And if I see someone like you—I don’t walk past.

Young Man: How do you know you're on the Path?

I (takes out the compass and holds it tightly): When inside, there's no noise—but stillness. When you’re not the one searching for a sign—but the sign seeks you.

(They ride together. The bus is noisy. But between them—an island of peace. An invisible thread. The compass slightly trembles, not pointing, just present.)

Evening. Home. Silence. I sits by the window. A notebook lies on the table. He writes:

“If you found this—you’ve already begun the path. This is not an Order, not a club, not a secret. This is a meeting with yourself. Perhaps when you sit by the fire—I will come to you. — Raphael.”

(He closes the notebook. Looks out the window. In the reflection—for a moment—Raphael’s face. A quiet nod. And gone.)


PART II. THE INNER TEMPLE

Where stones are thoughts, and walls are trust in oneself

Chapter 4. The City as a Labyrinth

Morning. City. People flowing past. I walks. Compass in pocket. Noise in his headphones. Silence within.

I (inner): Seems like I’ve returned. But I’m already someone else. Yesterday I spoke with someone from the 18th century. Today—I walk among the 21st. They don’t see me. Or—don’t recognize me.

(He walks past a store window. Mannequins. Price tags. Slogan: “Find Yourself.” He smirks.)

I: I found. But it can’t be bought. Not even in installments.

(He passes a homeless man. The man suddenly looks at him and says quietly:)

Homeless Man: The stones in your head are heavy. The temple will be strong.

I (inner): He said “temple”… Raphael, are you following me?

(He pulls out the notebook and writes: “The first stone is the word you believe in.”)


Chapter 5. A Call Among the Showcases

Library. Old building. A sudden impulse makes him enter.

I: I wasn’t searching. I was just walking. But suddenly—I was pulled. As if someone said: “Turn.”

Chapter 13. Fifth Step — To See

Setting: a city street. A man with a disability asks for help. Passersby ignore him. I watch.
(But in my eyes — no pity. No rush. Just — presence.)
I: You are my brother. And I… am no better. Only now — I am free. Free to see.
(He sits beside the man. Not to give a coin. But to be. Simply — to be.)
Silence here is the recognition of another within oneself.


Chapter 14. Sixth Step — To Open

Setting: rooftop at night. He holds his phone — ready to dial. But doesn’t know whom to call.
I: I want to reach out. Not for words. But so someone might hear my silence.
Whom?
The woman with forest eyes?
Raphael?
Myself?
(He dials his own number. The line rings.
As if someone… answered. Inside.)
Silence here is the threshold of a dialogue that begins within.


Chapter 15. Seventh Step — To Be

Setting: the fire again. He is alone. But the flame is no longer flickering — it is alive.
On his lap — a notebook. A blank page.
I: I don’t know what comes next.
And I’m not afraid.
I no longer seek symbols — they seek me.
I am not of the Lodge.
I am of the Path.
(He writes:)
“I was.
I am.
I will be.
Nameless —
but with Inner Light.”
Silence here is no longer a pause. It is the language of the soul.


PART IV. THE OATH WITHOUT WORDS

“Words are only a staff. The oath… is spoken with the eyes.”


Chapter 16. The Snow Station

Setting: a small railway station. Late winter. Mist. The city is far.
He is alone.
The compass is silent.
The stone in his pocket — warm.
The station is almost empty.
Only one figure — a woman. The one from the attic.
But now — real. Tangible. Snow on her coat.
She is not surprised. Just smiles — gently.
Woman: You came.
I: Are you… real?
Woman: Only now.
While you searched for me outside — I could not be flesh.
While you were afraid — I remained a voice.
Now you are empty.
And thus — ready.
All you need is already within.
I: I don’t know what to say.
Woman: Don’t speak.
Today is a day without words.


Chapter 17. The Woman with Forest Eyes

They walk along a frozen road.
No plan. No goal.
Only — together.
She carries a bundle.
He does not ask.
I: You were inside me?
Woman: You kept me — as a dream one hides from.
I am not a savior.
I am a mirror — where you first loved your own Darkness.
(They sit by a lake.
The ice cracks — like ancient glass.)
Woman: Do you love me?
I (after a long silence):
I… don’t know how to love that way.
Woman (smiling):
Then — you’re ready.
(She unwraps the bundle: an old glove and a small bronze key.)


Chapter 18. The Trial Without Questions

They enter an abandoned stone house.
It looks like a temple — but broken.
In the center — a stone with an inscription:
"You may stay here — only if you are real."
She enters first. Passes easily.
He steps in — and trembles.
All falsehood rises: fear, images, shame, loneliness.
She does not help.
She watches.
She is present.
I: I am unworthy. I lied. To you. To myself. To the world.
I wanted to be light — but I was smoke…
Woman: To lie is not a crime.
To refuse to see the lie — is.
I (in tears):
I don’t know who I am.
Woman:
Now — come in.
(He enters. What collapses isn’t the temple — but the armor he wore.
And only now does he stand on real stone.
In the center of the circle.)


Chapter 19. The Altar Between Palms

They stand facing one another.
No gestures. No oaths.
But all is said.
They press palms together —
And between them — a flame.
Not fire.
Not light.
Something else.
Warmth.
Power.
Needing no name.
Woman:
You may leave.
You may stay.
But now you know:
The oath isn’t words.
It’s that you no longer want to live otherwise.
I: Are you my path?
Woman (gently):
No. I am your Memory of the Path.
(They remain in silence.
The flame between their hands does not fade.
The world — loud outside.
But here — still.)


PART V. THE RETURN PATH

“When you become Silence — you may speak.
But you no longer need to.”


Chapter 20. The Meeting with the Shadow

Setting: the city. The crowd. Everything — as before.
But the hero — has changed.
He no longer carries the compass.
He has become it.
On the corner, he sees a Man — his reflection.
Weary.
Lost.
Staring at the ground.
I (within):
That’s me.
Before.
I know that shoulder. That neck bent under burdens.
That gaze — that has no gaze.
(He sits beside him.
Simply breathes.)
Shadow:
Why are you here?
I:
So you’d know: you’re not alone.
I was here.
I am you.
Just… a bit later.
Shadow (pauses):
You lie.
No one comes back.
I:
Not those who left.
But those… who found a reason to return.
(The shadow lifts his eyes.
In them — a spark.
And in the spark — hope.)


Chapter 21. Raphael Returns

A dream. Or not.
Dusk.
A fire.
Raphael sits across from him again.
He hasn’t aged.
But now — he looks younger.
Or simply — closer.
Raphael:
I knew you’d come.
I:
I doubted I needed you…
But now I see — I’m a part of you.
And you — of me.
Raphael (nods):
I was the voice at the start.
Now — you are the voice.
And your turn — to be the fire.
(He hands him a bowl.
Empty.)
Raphael:
Fill it — not with words.
But with presence.


Chapter 22. The Final Fire

Setting: the forest. Night.
A small fire.
Around it — four people:
a young man,
a woman,
an old man,
a child.
They do not know each other.
But they sit — together.
I:
I didn’t come to teach.
I came to listen — with you.
If you want — I’ll share.
But maybe…
we just sit.
(Silence — like an ancient song.
Tea nearby.
Fire crackles.
The child places a twig.
The old man exhales.
The woman smiles.)


Chapter 23. A New Brother

The young man reaches out his hand.
In his palm — an old token.
The same one Raphael once held.
Young Man:
I found this.
In a shop.
Didn’t know what it was…
Now I do.
It’s not an object.
It’s a sign:
I’m ready.
I (quietly):
You don’t have to be perfect.
You just have to be — real.
If you are — place your hand by the fire.
(He does.
Not in the flame — beside it.
No fear.
No show.
Only — trust.)


Chapter 24. A Temple Without Walls

Setting: city. Morning.
The hero walks.
At the crosswalk:
a girl argues with a policeman,
a boy drops his backpack,
an old woman waits to cross.
He is near.
He helps.
He nods.
He doesn’t explain.
On the wall, a message:
“Brotherhood needs no building.
It lives in the shadow of gestures.”
I (within):
My Temple — is me.
My walls — silence.
My ceiling — the sky.
My prayer — presence.
And if someone asks:
— “Are you a Mason?”
I will say:
— I once sat by a fire.
And could never live the same again.


Epilogue

This book — is not an end.
It is a door.
One that now lives inside you.
Its entrance is unmarked.
But you already know where it is.


QUOTATIONS

“Not all that’s unsaid — is lost. Sometimes, it’s preserved.”

“Silence is the language Truth speaks.”

“You weren’t broken — you were called.”

“Brotherhood needs no building. It lives in the shadow of gestures.”

“The oath isn’t in words, but in no longer wanting to live otherwise.”

“He who could sit in silence with himself — is no longer alone.”

“I am not of the Lodge. I am of the Path.”

“You don’t need to be perfect.
You need to be true.”