A Fool's Faith

The Fool is going to go over the cliff. The Fool's number is Zero. There is nothing within The Fool. The Fool is empty. Folly is all that makes up The Fool.

The Fool is unaware of the unbearable pain and suffering that is about to come. 

At the bottom of the cliff The Fool's body will begin to decompose, for forty days and forty nights under the black star of Saturn. 

This is the shaman's crucible. The making of a true mystic. This will be the most horrific and transformative experience, other than physical death itself. 

If you survive the process of the black work, the old you will be forever a sad and distant memory.  You don't come back. Something else does.

Magic Isn't For Idealists

My first serious attempt at magic to change my world was a love drawing mojo. I selected a number of appropriate materia magica and used a pendulum to divine which ones to put in the mojo.

The name Michael came to me. Michael was the spirit of the mojo whose job it was to bring me love. And did he. Disastrously. It actually did work like magic - on two women. One was an employee at a local business. I went in, asked her assistance in my purchase, joked with her, got home, and she had contacted me on facebook - she had gotten my name off of my debit card. I made the mistake of telling her about my mojo eventually. That relationship ended very badly after around 2 months - my shortest relationship ever, and one that would cause me intense pain and sorrow for many more months. 

This wasn't the spirit's fault. As I heard someone say recently, just because a spirit gets you something, doesn't mean you have to take it. I fell hard for that woman, but she never fell for me. She was momentarily charmed by me. I was brought an opportunity for love - not the only opportunity brought by Michael, and I screwed both up. Big time.

We tend to have this idealistic view of the world, that whatever happens is for the best. Fate, destiny. God knows best, and he has us where he wants us. Magic is not for those type of sit-down people. Magic is for practical people who want to create their world.

Disaster looms, as is at the foot of the Zero Trump. To muck about with your own consciousness, your own immediate world, and infinite possibilities of future worlds, this takes first and foremost, balls. The Fool, in older depictions, had his balls out, which a cat was in the midst of pouncing at. The cliff was in front. The Fool is about to die the death. The Black Work. Nigredo. Putrefaction. The point of extreme despair, to kill off everything that has been preventing development as a person, as a magician. 

Back to this night of Venus. I've learned a thing or two in my sorcerer's apprenticeship. I'm taking the remains of that old mojo, and I'm creating a very special working. In a way, I'm honoring it, recognizing its value. I got what I wanted, and it destroyed me, and ended up being what I needed. The paradox is that fate doesn't happen but by free will. If you want to make your ideas real, you must act on them. When you act on them, everything changes, broadens, expands. The paradigm from whence your ideas spring is altered.

Nobody is going to save you. You are the master of your fate. You are the captain of your soul. This is the reality. You can sit high and smugly pretending to be content with your ideas of the world, or you can set out to conquer. Zephyrus and I are making haste across the 7 seas to see and seize.

Nekumanteion

Saturnine Prince

That Death didst follow from birth

Gazing downwards through life

Seeking that in deepest earth

Silence bearing the markings of time

Crystal tittering, echoes absorbed

The lithe white proteus in motion

Here I am present and unaware

Deep calls to deep
There is no revelry

There is melancholy

A warm bitter sweet anguish

Stirrings, tumultuous interruptions

Memories of what was and cannot be

The broken heart that dieth not

Mania, Larunda, Muta, Dea Tacita!

Thoughts On Relaxation Ritual

The Relaxation Ritual is a preliminary to any magical work. It's much like the beginning of many hypnotic inductions. Most of these either start with bringing some relaxing sensation and/or visualization down from the head or up from the feet. Of course, the Golden Dawn has you bringing up a yellow ball from your feet. This never felt right to me. It was always a struggle, and I couldn't ever make sense of it. I've read something about the light of Tiphareth coming through to the sphere of Malkuth - but that seems a stretch of justification. I would visualize the sphere moving up my body and feel the warmth from it raise to the top of my head - but it was fragmented. It didn't seem whole somehow. By the time I was to my head, my feet were cold. I tried growing the sphere in size, beginning at the feet - but that was difficult to visualize as well - like gum being blown into an expanding outward bubble - the end from which it expanding wasn't right. It was awkward.

Tiphareth in Queen Scale is golden. It corresponds to Sol. In the Middle Pillar Ritual one vibrates the divine name YHVH Eloah va-Daath while visualizing the sphere in one's solar plexus / heart region. It took me a while to nail down the center of the sphere pertaining to where it was in relation to my body. I now feel the sphere vibrating in response to the vibrating of the Divine Name. That is now where I now begin the Relaxation Ritual. The yellow sphere doesn't go up or down. It grows larger, from center, until it contains my entire body, my entire sphere, in golden healing warmth. The sensation is the same as laying out underneath the warm sunshine. Your body radiates with the heat, all tension you are holding slowly melts. Your jaw unclenches, your eyes tilt slightly upwards. You are deep within and present of mind. You may hear flatulence, but it is far away.  :D

Uncrossing Ritual — I In Try Angel

I think I'm busier doing now than I have ever been, and I just keep gaining momentum. I'm going to have to start getting up earlier to even fit in what all I've got going. Magick is a big part of this, and in my belief the catalyst for this movement. I realize a lot of what I write makes people roll their eyes, and say, "It's just his imagination." It's not just. It is my imagination. Whatever that is. Unconscious mind. Whatever that is. What I know objectively is that I am having extremely meaningful experiences daily which are cumulatively creating exponential growth in me.

I had just gotten my Saint Anthony altar set up. Some very special items. I lack a candle holder and small picture frame, but other than that, I'm good I think. I planned to petition him because I've lost a lot of stuff I'd like to find. After I set the altar up, I decided that I would gather the items the Undine had shown me the previous day. I found a couple more items I should rid myself of, but I couldn't find the one painting. I eventually just gave up. I leaned over my desk, looked down, and there was the arrowhead. The arrowhead I've been looking for for months. I found it with my now deceased friend Troy Dill, out in the plowed fields of rural Hendersonville, NC, along with a bunch of pottery bits. It was my first arrowhead that I actually found; pulled from the ground. I hadn't been able to find it, and I wanted it for my Black Hawk bucket. That bucket is what kicked off my encounters with spirits, in a big way. I think of it as my ancestor altar. I had looked everywhere for that arrowhead. Especially on that desk, because that's where I last had remembered it being. I tore the entire house up multiple times, and now, here it was just sitting in plain view on top of the desk. I grabbed it, anointed it with Indian Spirit Guide oil and carefully placed it in the bucket with my other special objects. 

With this done, I went to take my uncrossing bath. Details in my previous post. I became very relaxed. I thought of my dad, his life, the last few years of it, and his death. A particular event came to mind, and I kind of started to tear up - and then it hit me - it was happening again. Phase 2. I expanded my astral sphere. 

"Dad, where are you?"

"I'm here."

"This mind stuff is cool, isn't it? Dad, what am I suppose to do?"

"Eye in the triangle."

Eye in the triangle? I thought of years back how I would listen to Alex Jones, and when my dad came home from work, I would have him listen, and we would both get all riled up about that blasted Illuminati. What was he trying to tell me? I said it over and over until I came to "I in triangle. I in. Ayin."  What was the "triangle"? I opened my eyes and looked at the candle. It had angel wings. The candle had melted and somehow had perfect angel wings extending from each side. They extended at least a couple of inches out from a tiny altar candle. I stared at it stupidly for a few moments and then it hit me. "Try Angel!" The second that thought hit me, the right "wing" fell off of the candle, startling me.

I knew what it was about. I've been attempting to memorize the Bornless Ritual in preparation to attempt K&C/HGA. I'd read the HGA book from Nephilim, read the Abramelin Ramble, I have Newcomb's book and the Book of Abramelin. Earlier this very day I read a comment on social media that Aaron Leitch made about a former girlfriend who broke up with him because she thought he was making this stuff up. And then she actually saw Aaron's angel. Funny, huh?

I sat in the bathtub pondering until the candle burned out.

Uncrossing Ritual & Catfish Undine

That's a picture of my batch of uncrossing bath mix. I'll give the ingredients further down. I had been making the first progress of my life, after an especially horrid 3 years. I knew of uncrossing, but when a friend, Jon, mentioned it to me and shared a link to an uncrossing ritual, I decided to go about my own, borrowing from here and there, using what I had.

I made the above jar. I took a bath for 2 nights in a row and then got sick. I then got sicker. I went to the local Minute Clinic, spent several hundred dollars for 20 antibiotic pills and then I went to the dentist. That's a whole other story. Basically though, I began to take care of some stuff I had been neglecting. I stopped drinking caffeine. I bought a Ninja blender. I'm drinking fruits and vegetables during the day and eating fish and rice at night. I'm beginning to feel good again. I even plan to start exercising via body weight training. So....

I begin the uncrossing ritual I began but never finished. I had planned to go 7 days. I bought some uncrossing incense, altar candles and oils. The first night I burned a white candle dressed in Van Van oil during my bath. I got out feeling fantastically refreshed. I missed the next night - I forget why - I think I had an early appointment and was just tired. So....

Today I had acquired some uncrossing oil. I lit the uncrossing incense and dressed the same white altar candle with the oil. I poured my bath and added the uncrossing mix. This time I got the water really freaking hot. I laid there thinking about this and that. Since adjusting my diet I've had a lot more energy. I actually look for stuff to do instead of places to sit. There's a lot to do. Eventually my mind quietened a bit. I looked up at the tile, steam rising from the water. I saw a face. Cat. Fish. Catfish. Perhaps an Undine. Then it blinked out. I didn't see it, but my eyes went to where I felt it go. A painting. I literally instantly began to tear up. From that strange position laying in the bathtub, that painting is most noticeable. I hadn't thought about it in a long time. I hadn't wanted to think about it. It was a painting I had asked my ex wife to paint when she was my wife. I asked her to paint the sea. She placed a small boat with two people fishing upon the sea. 

Not the painting - this is from Zelda.... :p

For almost 4 years I've been burying the feelings around what happened with my marriage. I used 3 relationships and a fortune in alcohol afterwords to try to forget. Over 2 years passed before I even had the will to change our bedroom. Anyway, all those old feelings flooded me. I knew I had to get rid of the painting - send it to her - bury it - something. I looked back up at the tiles on the bath. I saw that face again. And then it changed to an alien face. An alien face that I knew. Immediately my mind went to another painting I had asked my wife to do of my first short-story. A science fiction piece. It had been stuck somewhere in my library room, long out of mind and sight. I knew I had to get rid of it too. 

Tears running down my face I looked back at the tile, astonished at what was taking place. I saw a butterfly, sort of broken. I knew what it was. My ex wife's butterfly hairpiece she wore on our wedding day. I knew where it was. I had stuck it in a drawer. I'm not sure why. I had to get rid of it, of everything of hers that I had just left around the house as some sort of memorials that somehow weren't occupying my conscious mind.

I looked back at the tile and the catfish face was there again. And then gone. I just sat there in the water letting these feelings wash over me. I was astonished at the effectiveness of uncrossing. I sat up and pulled the drain and at that exact moment the candle wick burned out. Ritual done.

Even as I dried myself off, I was unconsciously not looking at the painting again. Already gone back to not wanting to think about it, look at it, or touch it. I was shocked at how completely different my state of mind and emotional state had been in the water. Regardless - I'm gathering those things up and getting rid of them. I've 6 more days of this ritual to go, and was blown away by tonight. Before typing this, I just sat staring at the computer, lost in reflection and astonishment.

Uncrossing Bath Mix

Epsom Salt

Bay

Vervain

Rue

Hyssop

Rose petals

Lavender

Dragons blood

Black Star & Scythe

You think Bowie had seen that alchemical illustration? 

The blog has a new look. Lighter. Mercury is in Capricorn and Saturn is in Sagittarius. I remember several months ago listening to The Astrology Podcast about what Saturn in Sagittarius meant. 

Since January I have been on the move - getting stuff done. I feel more motivated and grounded than I have perhaps ever. 

"Our black earth is fertile earth." The Black Work is over. It just really came to the forefront of my consciousness as I was changing the look of my blog. The process of Nigredo has been taking place over the last 3 years - actually much longer than that - a lifetime - but the heat was really applied in the last few years. I don't wish it on anyone, but if you are going to grow, you are going to have to face some serious schijt. Schijt nobody wants to ever have to face. Schijt you would do anything to not have to face. But there comes a time, eventually, sooner or later, when you have no choice in the matter. Saturn is the black star. Saturn oversees the process of death and decay. He watches closely, that all putrefies, and all corruption settles into the darkness of the earth, from whence new life can begin to grow. Those two little bird figures in the illustration are the dying man's soul and his spirit. They are outside of his body. Because he is dying, he has become aware of them. The crow is a symbol of the process of Nigredo. Blacker than black...

New life. 

I am finally free from the oppressive Saturnian stuff that has been going down. Saturn has finally released me from my prison and my borders are in the process of being expanded. The past still hurts very much. They were extremely harsh lessons, but extremely valuable as well. In my new found freedom, I am finding that at times I enjoy a splash of color, a bit of music, even socialization. I am busy, busy, busy as a bee. I've been laying dead, and now that I'm out of that damned cooking pot, I have a lot to accomplish. Since January I've been building momentum, and I plan to keep it up, kicking arse in every aspect of life.

Mercury Direct in Capricorn

This week Mercury's station is direct Capricorn - my sign. It's so fascinating how things line up when you are awake and looking. Austin Coppock just had that article on Mercury as surgeon, exctracting the "stone" which we need to be rid of, because it's infecting our system in a radical way - radical meaning infecting every part.

I just got off the phone with the dentist's office and have set up an appointment for 8AM tomorrow - I likely have a tooth infection. I haven't been to the dentist in years, and now I can no longer ignore it. Just got my Carecredit approved. It's scary as hell, but I'm looking forward to finally addressing issues I should have long ago.

Things are being excised in other areas of my life as well. It's not pleasant, but it's confronting issues that need to be confronted. Once resolved, growth and new life can happen. It reminds me too of the blogpost from years back about RO having to clean up his spheres after having dealt with the Cthonic. Man this isn't easy or fun, but what's worse is having to live with corrupting forces affecting every aspect of your being.

A Stone For Saturn

I'm starting to even look like the old man. Kronos-Saturn ate his children. He was afraid of a prophecy that they would overtake him. This would be the reaping of justice for what Kronos had done to his father, but I digress. Rhea slipped Kronos a rock instead of their child Zeus. This got me thinking, in light of Austin Coppock's post, Extracting the Stone.

I've been planning a visit to the Spheres for around a year. As a Capricorn, I plan, and plan, and plan, and then plan some more before taking action. In Ashen Chassan's book, Gateways Through Stone and Circle, the first Sphere visited is Binah. I had planned to follow suit, and issue my complaints of being devoured in every aspect of life. Upon a re-examination of the Kronos myth, I think that perhaps Fr. RO was onto something in his Seven Spheres, starting out to Chesed firstly. Literally loving kindness, gentleness, mercy.

As I look back over the last three years, I realize I HAVE BEEN IN AN INITIATION within the Sphere of Binah. Total life crises at every turn. Complete lack of understanding in the life situations I found myself in. Trauma after trauma. I survived it. I'm no longer wallowing in my own misery. You just have to get over some of the schijt that happens to you in life, or it will kill you. Mourn it, and then you have to move on. Take it from Gatsby's life. She wasn't even worthy of him anyway. Poor bastard. SHE WASN'T WORTHY OF HIM! And look what he gets for all his effort. No sir. Get your arse out of the past. Pick one foot up and put it in front of the other. Or just lay down and die an overly-dramatic and agonizingly slow death filled with chemical dependence and complete and utter misery. Your choice. Nobody will make it for you.

I'm not completely decided on my plan of action, but things are coming to a head quickly. I may stop by Binah and say, "Did you worst, and here I stand." That might not be wise though. I've spent the last year or so learning much, contacting a few spirits, and proving to them I'm not a drunken sot. Ancestor work really kicked things off for me in a big way, and I'm currently memorizing the Bornless Ritual. It would be nice to have K&C / HGA before I set out to the Spheres. I also have been doing tons of divination work with tarot and geomancy. I believe divination is so essential to any practice, as you are not so much in the dark.

Found: Spirit

I've spent a lot of time looking for and gathering images for this post. I'm trying to induce a certain feeling:

 There is a woman at a window, staring. She is very thin, seemingly starving or anorexic.

Her eyes are dead. You can tell that she has experienced so much pain. They call it the thousand yard stare. She has it.

She is the spirit of a dead woman that I had a vision of. She was inside, staring out a large window, which I was outside staring into. At first I wasn't aware she was there - I was just sort of in a trance, staring at the window. Slowly I became cognizant of looking into her eyes. One of her eyes was misaligned, looking off to the side a bit. Many people have this condition. It's called strabismus. The pictures of the soldiers are the only thing that comes close to what it was like looking into her eyes. She was extremely thin, and had short dark hair.

For a month or two since that vision, I've been trying to work with her. I brought her coffee, tea, chocolate. I've come to call her Jenny. I suspect she came through my Echovox generation 1 one day. The only clearly human voice that I've ever heard come through that thing - very slowly and clearly a first name and a last name was given by a female. Jennifer something. Speaking so clearly and deliberately, as if giving her name to someone in some sort of important situation. It was a very specific tone. Dammit, I can't remember the last name - I wrote it down and have since lost the paper. It wasn't a common last name, and I'd remember it if I saw it, maybe.

I had a friend do a tarot reading on this spirit. He first ask the nature of the spirit. He laid down the following:

Queen of Cups
Good natured, intuitive, imaginative, coquettish, kind, poetic. She is a water sign - Cancer, Scorpio or Pisces. These are naturally psychic (I'm not kidding - date one), which explains a bit our initial contact.

 5 of Pentacles
 From the Elora Tarot by Monika Lassner. The Smith-Waite card was strange enough - a church window - which is where I saw her. The meaning is poverty, isolation, insecurity, loss, worry, harshness, stern.

9 of Swords
From the Fenestra Tarot. This is someone tormented. The idea here is faithfulness unto cruelty, oppression, misery, suffering, loss. 










These cards together give you a pretty good idea of who she was. A gentle poetic soul who lived a burdensome and hard life, who was likely mistreated and persecuted. By the look in her eyes - I think we are talking some bad schijt that went down.

My reader then asked her where she was - with me, or at my work, or just having passed through. He pulled the following card:

The Heirophant

Religious institution. Obviously, the spirit is at my work, which is where she was in my vision of her - I had not told my reader this.

So next my reader asked what I could do to contact the spirit or communicate with it:

Strength

This is a painting by Emily Balivet. This speaks to a concerted effort. This card is sometimes called Lust or Fortitude or sometimes referred to as The Enchantress. It means a few things to me. Mainly the generation of what sometimes is referred to as "heat".

Queen of Wands
Within the context of the question, I think this painting represents the answer - gifts.

The Lovers
All 3 of these cards - Strength, Queen of Wands, and The Lovers speak to motivation, inspiration and action, again here, the building of "heat".

So, after the tarot reading, I decided to do a geomantic divination in the place that she was in my vision. 3 of the 4 Mothers I threw were Via. On the last throw of the tumblers, I swear I could almost feel an arm on my arm, and they just like "stuck" to the table. Here are the results charted traditionally, as well as put to a more modern chart (that graphic took me forever):

As you can see, the Left Witness, Right Witness and Judge are all exceptionally good. Even the Significator and Reconciler. I'll edit this post upon further interpretation of the other Houses.

Geomantic Guidelines

Remember what the Gnomes say:

Geomancy & Digression on Liber A'Ash

I had a tarot reading done on this spirit before, and pertaining to it's nature, Queen of Cups, 9 of Disks, 5 of Swords. Pertaining to how to contact it, Lust, Queen of Wands, the Lovers. It's interesting to me in the Geomantic divination, Aquisitio is the judge, which could be "comprehending within". The astral, which is where I encountered her in the first place, is where I should seek to converse with her. The Significator, Puer - it's an erect penis.

As an explanatory diversion in the vein of Tristram Shandy, I'm reminded of Liber A'Ash, which is said to hold the secret of magical power. I too am reminded of quantum theory stuff - observation effects reality. If you are interested in science or magic, please listen to the following interview with Howard Smith, senior astrophysicist at the Harvard- Smithsonian Center for Astrophysics in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and a senior member of several teams with NASA’s Spitzer Space Telescope:

So back to my elucidation of Liber A'Ash...  Key 15, The Devil, Ayin, Eye, Mirth.  Saturn rules Capricorn, and Mars (The Tower) is exalted therein. Read the first few lines of Liber A'Ash.

This is the picture I get: The magician stands tall, full of secret mirth. The lightning of the heavens flash about him, serving to charge his will. What would crumble one of lesser ability, what would bring terror and dread, the magician, caught up in preternatural fits of cackling, uses as a vehicle. Up! Thou givest not thy sap, thy fallest not! I know very well what that energy feels like. I first experienced it in a dream, which I'm sure I have written down somewhere....  I was standing high on the outside ledge of an ancient stone building. There was a stone gargoyle. The skies darkened and the wind began to grow in strength. A tremendous storm was coming. Lighting began to flash. Some of the stone ledge began to crumble. I had goosebumps on my arms. The feeling was incredible, and can be likened to a sort of sexual energy. A sort of insane glee. Surely you have felt this feeling as well - perhaps as a child, running carelessly in a thunderstorm. This feeling - it's to be gathered up, focused through intent.

New Moon in Capricorn Pathworking

The New Moon falls on my birthday - January 10th. A New Moon in Capricorn Decan 2. There is a lot going on here astrologically - which I don't fully understand - but I do understand it a lot better than I had. I've been reading this book by Kevin Burk. I also like to read the Darkstar Astrology site.

I've already had Moon visitors preparing me for this - one particularly tall lanky fellow whose style was sort of steam-punk-amusement-park with anime hair. Lunar spirit. I drank Moonshine with them up in the Mountains, and got some Moon poetry, written long in the past by myself (but not really) and sung by myself and a female vocalist over a pickup truck's stereo (strange dream): 

The Mighty Moon is out
Where the Mountains end

Now this is really fascinating. I woke up with the tune on my lips, which reminds me of Vega in Lyra....  

Goats climb mountains. They climb them alone, and very meticulously. The Temple of Malkuth, my astral temple, happens to be on top of a mountain.

This time of the New Moon, and those beautiful words I received speak volumes to me about what it is I must do. I know that magically I'm about to step out - to step out from where the Mountains end. I plan a pathworking on the night of January 10th to the Moon Temple.

I'm very tempted to look up "Moon Temple Pathworking" - though I will not until I've done my own. I've already "accidently" been to the Temple of Geburah and written about that here. 

I do know this: The Hebrew letter Tav is the key. The doorway to Yesod will be just beyond the two pillars in the Temple of Malkuth and will have a veil over it with the image upon it of the 21st trump. That is the doorway I must take to Yesod. Besides Lunar incense, I'll be checking The Complete Magician's Tables for other magical correspondences...

All Attractive Blue Magick

I had this vision of this blue devil guy. He was sitting upon a throne with a stern look on his face - just looking at me. He seemed.... bored? Was he waiting on me somehow?

It freaked me out at the time. Nearly every time a mental image - a vision pops in your head, it's a bit alarming. If you've had them, you know what I'm talking about. You aren't seeing it with your eyes, but what your "seeing" is super detailed, just as if you were seeing it with your eyes.

He had a very handsome face. Horns on the bald head. Blue. The throne the blue devil guy sat on was plain - maybe made out of stone. The next day, I just kept saying to myself, "He was a really handsome guy!". I kept wondering about the blue skin. He didn't seem elemental to me - I've had experiences with a male Sylph. That was much more disturbing, much more uncomfortable. It felt like I was in some sort of energetic field storm or something. 

I Googled about, and found a bit on Krishna and Rama. Lots of gods have blue skin - even Thoth with his blue ibis head. In the case of Krishna, one explanation was that he didn't have blue skin, but a blue aura. Krishna's name means dark blue - he is all attractive. Even those who wished to kill him, ended up just finding him irresistible.  When he was a baby the assassin Poothana came to kill him and ended up falling in love with him. This I find interesting, as with the blue devil guy, I just kept thinking how attractive he was - a creature of beauty, very masculine. 

Anyone have a clue? I suspect something with Netzach - Yesod? Him looking bored, and the thought that the demonic forces "need directing" I find interesting.

Esoteric Origin Story - Aaron David

I always enjoy hearing my favorite authors and bloggers and podcasters tell how they got into esotericism. Here's my story, given at a time when nobody really cares, given I'm an unknown blazing dark star:

Since I can remember I've had an interest in the mysterious - ghosts, UFOs, legends and lore. I ate it up with a spoon every chance I got. What I mean to describe though, is what pushed me into esoteric practice.

When I was very young, I read a book called The Beautiful Side of Evil by Johanna Michaelsen. This book blew my freaking mind. It had poltergeist activity, witches, gnomes, peyote, dracula, graveyards, theater demons, Mexican healers - man! - it was the most magical book I had ever read. About two-thirds in, Johanna finds Jesus and I got bored and never finished it. That book is probably what ignited my interest in hallucinogens. 

In the book, Johanna got involved with a Silva Mind Control group. What she described sounded cool as hell to me, and I began the practice, which essentially was counting down from 100 while visualizing the numbers and going down an elevator. Then you reached the bottom, and you had a room with filing cabinet, and eventually you brought up 2 guides from the elevator. Johanna got stuck there looking at 2 bloody werewolves, but that's another story.

Next comes a long interlude of marijuana, LSD and mushroom use, which propelled me into the inner-worlds, and isolated me from the outer world.

Sometime in high school I found this exact book - the Silva Mind Control Method - at my aunt's house. I was in a Tae Kwon Do class, and the visualizations really helped me with sparring. That counting down practice also really helped me to calm my mind for sleep. I've always had trouble getting to sleep.

Pretty much nightly for years and years, I counted down from 100. During the day, I would count down from 10 and try to reach the same meditative state.

The next thing that had quite the impact on me, was Carlos Castaneda. Those books blew my mind as well. I already had quite a bit of entheogenic experience - enough that I didn't care for any more. The Art of Dreaming really got me interested in lucid dreaming and astral travel and such - which I had been doing since childhood, haphazardly. 

So, coming up to just around 2 or 3 years ago, that was it. No Wicca, no Buddhism, no Yoga, never saw The Craft, never watched Buffy. Oh... There was Magic the Gathering, and I guess you could count Pentecostalism and a mystical experience with glossolalia, but that's another story. The next thing to happen was that I became friends with Rufus Opus on social media, and he emailed me his Neo-Platonic Basics. That was the major catalyst, along with my marriage having failed, my father's death, and 3 more failed relationships. It was like the shamanic dismemberment....

The Goetia of Jabba the Hutt

I have been trying to reassess my first encounter with Goetic spirits - which was several years ago, flipping through a book of A.E. Waite's seals, and then having this tremendous vision open up of pretty much what was Jabba the Hutt sitting in a pile of dead leaves, beginning to get a wide grin as he looked up and made eye contact with me. I ran outside and set the book on fire. I guess that could be considered what was my introduction to Ceremonial Magick.

A well known magician made the offhand comment that perhaps this was Bifrons. Why did the spirit appear to me as Jabba the Hutt? Why was that book - that was given to me by someone who said that it was "too dark for them" - why was it so "active"?

The more I think about this, the more I dig into Hutt lore. The Hutts were galactic gangsters. Jabba's influence was highly sought by the Galactic Republic as well as the Confederacy of Independent Systems, and in the age of the Empire, Darth Vader was sent to Jabba by the Emperor, who sought an alliance. As highly powerful crime lords, the Hutts were courted by just about everyone who sought power and influence. Very interesting.

I believe it was said by Rufus Opus somewhere, that the Cthonic spirits of the Goetia - demons - they are the heavy lifters of the material world. I first read that or heard it when I was deeply entrenched in the intellectual games of Calvinism. We have a saying in Augustinianism - "evil has purpose". Not so much with Arminian theology. Evil just kind of is something waiting to drag you to hell. Suffering has no meaning - and their "moralistic therapeutic deism" has some Caucasian guy with long hair, blue eyes, and white robe, who is a nice dude who will, we are promised, save you from all of life's suffering and trials.

Within the view of a total Sovereign of all creation - well, we must say with Luther, that the devil is God's devil. That evil is purposed, and that suffering has purpose. Take a look at those people who lead soft lives, untouched by the harsh realities of the world. You think God wants that for you? It a pitiable state. It's the state of an overgrown immature spoiled child with no way of coping with reality.

For those who wish to tackle this idea of a total Sovereign, I highly recommend listening to R.C. Sproul, as well as his book, The Holiness of God. Hell is populated with the disgruntled employees of God. Rebel of your free will, and find that this was figured into the eternal Will of God before the foundations of the Earth were lain. Very frustrating for rebels, very comforting for the adapted - or adopted if you like traditional terms.

My point with this is that the Neo-Platonic idea of demons being the material world's gangsters - who go about as heavy lifters, as catalysts for growth - this fit perfectly for me with my understanding of a reformed (i.e. logically exegeted) Biblical theology. Much more truth resounded here than within the echoes of Arminian televangelists promising no problem would ever again beseech the faithful (for installments).

This is why I believe that the spirit, perhaps Bifrons, appeared to me as Jabba the Hutt. He was conveying to me something I could understand:  "Hey, I'm a big deal. I get things done. Like a gangster. Like Jabba the Hutt. In this world, those that need things done, come to me. Just know who it is you are dealing with. I'm the guy that can make things happen. Yeah, see?"  Now, remember Han Solo frozen in carbonite?

You cannot imagine how it felt to be before such a creature - and just out of the blue - from one minute flipping through a book to the next in a visionary and pretty horrifying, yet later quite amusing experience. In my vision, he seemed only 4 or 5 feet away from me. The vision had me kind of coming in from above him, and him looking up with that grin. One thing I don't quite understand is why he was sitting upon a pile of dead leaves. I guess it sort of fits with the decaying swamp world of Nal Hutta....

Finding A Mirror On The Astral

I was listening to Gordon White interview Sarah Anne Lawless. It was a great listen.  

During their chat, Sarah - and I'm paraphrasing - said that you have a different appearance in the higher and lower planes. She said that some spirits may be afraid to approach you because you look like a total bad-ass, whereas other people may not be approached by certain spirits because they look so innocent and sweet. She advised finding a mirror and checking your astral self out.  Now, this struck me with the remembrance of something that happened to me probably over 10 years ago, before I knew diddle-squat:

At the time I was drinking heavily. That's been a problem for me that pops up now and then (especially when I get involved with women). I just stay away from the stuff - both of the stuff. Anyway, I had this dream that I was in the basement of this church. I walked down a long hall, straight into a bathroom, and up to a mirror. I looked at myself in the mirror, and was horrified. It was me alright - it wasn't a trick - but I had no skin. I looked a lot like the Red Skull, or some descriptions people give of encounters with Raw Head on Darkness Radio.  Seeing myself like this so shocked me that it didn't stop my drinking, but it gave me another view of who I became when I drank. Something monstrous, hideous.

I do not believe that I would look at all like that anymore, maybe. I certainly am not the same person. Not even the same person from last year, much less 10 years ago. I really wonder though, what I would see, if I found a mirror. Would I look different in the Sphere of Geburah as opposed to the Sphere of Gedulah? Would I have different physical attributes?  An extra arm extending out, an extra eye, like in A Voyage to Arcturus?

Damiana Experience & Dream

I've been growing my apothecary for quite some time now. I originally did this for mostly experimenting with incense blends, however, I've sort of been a bit surprised to find how people are using various substances. I too am surprised how damned little information there is on these herbs. Every where I go to look, "there is not enough evidence...", "no studies...".

I decided to make a bit of tea with some Damiana. I am bad with dosage. I just filled both sides of the tea-ball up. I drank this while I was reading The Bornless Ritual. After much comparing, I decided I really like Alex Sumner's version. I was really struck with the beauty of it. After this I laid down and went to sleep. I didn't think I was feeling any affect of the tea at all. I had quite forgotten about it. As I lay on my back, I began to pray. I felt a nearness to God. I felt a warmness washing over me. 

A short digression: I've come to realize that many people do not know how to pray. They may have memorized something liturgical, or the Lord's Prayer or some such, and have no idea what to do if the memorization fails them. This is absurd to me, as I grew up Pentecostal.

So, I was laying there in the dark, feeling close to God, feeling bathed in warmth, being thankful, praying for people I knew, and then I finally realized that this state of being I was in was chemically induced. This was the damiana. I didn't expect anything like this at all. I momentarily began to panic. At that moment, I would sort of describe it as the warm groggy haze that NyQuil gives you - but not as unnatural. Once I came to adapt to the fact I was altered a bit due to the herb, I proceeded to continue praying, asking God to not withdraw from me. Now, this is the problem I had with Pentecostalism in the first place - your spirituality is based on and out of emotionalism. Whatever. Logicians become so out from emotional need to do so. Paradox.

I fall asleep peacefully. 

I dream.

My dad has brought me somewhere. We are in another town. We go into this place, and there are people around. Steve (my old friend and band-mate which I haven't seen or spoken to in years, though he is a common dream visitor, likely representing some part of my unconscious) is there. So too is this young attractive girl. I know that Steve is interested in the girl, or there with her. He looks very arrogant. Yet this young girl and I spark a conversation and are genuinely interested in each other. My dad is sort of in the background. Not interfering. Just there.

This girl and I talk about Christian theology. It's really fuzzy now - I need to write these things down as soon as I wake up, instead of waiting til I go to bed again. I believe I remember saying Hank Hanegraaff. Hank is one of few Christian teachers I respect. Someone told me that a neighbor of Anton LaVey said that LaVey began listening to the Bible Answer Man Show before he died. I didn't tell the girl in the dream that - I'm telling you. Like I said, it's really fuzzy now, but we were finding we had a like-understanding of Christian theology. She was eager to learn, and I was eager to recommend authors. Part of my consciousness was wary of Steve, who was sitting nearby, looking dour. Suddenly his face changed. As if it was a hologram on the blink. What was actually there was something that looked like Cobra-Commander's chrome-faced visor. I couldn't tell if it was reflective or what - it was very bright. I thought that very strange.

My dad and I left. Dad had his motorcycle. Now in real life, my dad sold his Harley right before his death. He had had a motorcycle when I was little, and he took me for a few rides. I was absolutely terrified, and haven't been on one since I was probably under the age of 10. But in this dream, I climbed on the back of it, and my dad took off down the road. I began to become fearful. I had to yell over the sound of the engine - I told dad to not take the interstate. He agreed. I was afraid of going that fast. I began to feel like I was leaning to the right, and I couldn't straighten up. I felt like I was falling off. I yelled for my dad to pull over, and as he began to, I woke up. I woke up laying on my right side, sort of with the same feeling I had in my dream - it was produced from me laying on my side.

This is I believe the third pretty important dream I've had of my dad since he died and since my work with Black Hawk specifically for ancestor stuff. My initial hope was that he's working on the other side to hook me up with a wife. As I think about it now, damiana corresponds to Venus. It's traditionally used as an aphrodisiac, commonly drank by women in Mexico before intimacy, as well as used in magickal love work. It is said to be able to treat depression, and it is said to be able to cause erotic dreams. The dream character Steve - I don't think he was this girl's love interest, but he seemed and acted more like her guardian. Very interesting.







 UPDATE:

I had another cup of daimian tea last night. I got pretty sleepy, as with a mild dose of NyQuil. I had 2 offertory candles lit. Sometimes I wake up when they go out. I was having this horrible dream about some short little ugly person. I can't even remember exactly what they looked like. We both had scalpels. We were fighting with them. I was trying to kill this damned thing. I stabbed it in the jugular, in the sides, all over everywhere. It was a bloody mess. It was down on the floor, and I was trying to stab it in the heart, but I kept hitting the sternum. I've always hated thinking about stabbing someone, because the idea of hitting ribs or bones gives me that feeling of nails on a chalk-board. I finally just dropped the scalpel on the little horrible creature and walked off to a door. As I was about to go threw the door, the horrible little thing picked my scalpel up and said, "Wait til you see what I do with this."

I woke up. I could smell that my candles had just gone out. I had goosebumps all over me and I felt like something was present in the room. It pissed me off how afraid I felt, because in the dream I was just grossed out. I said "In the name of Jesus", and I actually had trouble saying this because my voice was quivering - as it has before when I entered cold water and began hyperventilating - you can't really talk. After that feeling faded, I could feel the groggy-headiness, again, very much like a mild dose of NyQuil. This was sort of annoying.

So, my second time with damiana was not that pleasant. Like all chemicals, from coffee to cannabis to sugar, I think damiana is a tool. Only with much experience and experimenting will we find it is useful. It certainly had 2 interesting dream effects on me. For now though - I'm going back to Valerian and chamomile for a night-time tea.