Ankh-f-n-khonsu commented:

I’m no tarotist scholar, and I found Decker’s article in Gnosis (#46, Winter 1998) convincing and enlightening. However, I was left unconvinced that there was no connection to esoteric Egyptian tradition. Tony Bushby…suggests that 22 Hebrew characters were ‘occulted’ in the Egyptian Book of Thoth/God, and that ‘tarot’ is a plural form of Torah. [...]

In tarot’s fairly well documented history (letters, accounting ledgers, early examples of tarot cards and “regular” playing cards, etc.), there is absolutely no suggestion whatsoever that tarot cards were intended for use as anything other than an innovating card game. Serious tarot practitioners know this, it’s the occultists who resist reading anything in depth outside their genre – and I say this as an occultist myself! (Probably because occultists have invested so much in the mystification of tarot they figure it’d be a shame to stop now.)

That doesn’t mean that its repurposing as an occult tool is valueless; on the contrary, thanks to Lévi’s “modern” popularization in particular, the tarot has become a nexus of occult symbolism. The tarot’s medieval Italian symbolism has been reinterpreted with everything from kabbalah, the Hebrew alphabet, the tetragrammaton, astrology, the elements, etc. being mapped on to its structure.

The tarot has become a central tool and symbol set for occultists. That it wasn’t so historically comes as a bit of a downer, but it can work – even if it is, quite often, an awkward fit.

The ancient Egyptians didn’t have paper, and the story of tablets is plainly absurd. The first European paper wasn’t made until 1151 in Spain, and it’s another two hundred years until we hear of playing cards mentioned in Europe. While there are decks of Mamluk playing cards extant dating from the twelfth or thirteenth century, the first mention of playing cards in Europe come from Bern, Switzerland in 1367. It’s not until 1442 that trinofi (tarot cards) are mentioned. Some scholars allow that it’s likely the cards were invented some years before being written about, and suggest an approximate date of 1420 for their invention – at the earliest.

The etymological origins of the word “tarot” are fairly straightforward.

Tarot comes from the Italian word trionfi, used in the fifteenth century to describe the twenty-two trump cards. Tarocchi gained currency in the early sixteenth century, first representing to the twenty-two trumps, and later to the complete seventy-eight card deck. The word tarocchi and tarocco are often used interchangeably, though tarocchi is actually the plural of tarocco. The French derivative tarot has come into widespread usage in English, though the English term “trump” is derived from the Latin triumphi.

Thanks for your question, Ankh-f-n-khonsu!

First published on Plutonica.net 4 April 2008.

1. Liber Null & Psychonaut: An Introduction to Chaos Magic, by Peter Carroll

Liber Null, first published in the late 1970s by Ray Sherwin, is the handbook for the Illuminates of Thanteros, the first group dedicated to chaos magick. The IOT was conceived of as a new kind of order based on meritocracy, and Liber Null serves as an introductory text to what was then a new approach to magickal practice.

New Falcon published Liber Null and Psychonaut together in 1987. Psychonaut expands upon themes raised in Liber Null, and contains the much maligned pseudo-scientific approach to catastrophe theory, but it does have its moments, defining and reframing magickal theories for a new generation of occultists.

The material draws heavily from Aleister Crowley, and sections of Magick are frequently paraphrased – even example for example in some cases. Even so, it remains a cornerstone of chaos magick, and its relevance has not dimmed.

2. The Book of Results, by Ray Sherwin

Sherwin co-founded the Illuminates of Thanateros with Peter Carroll, and The Book of Results is another early text which helped define the movement. In it, Sherwin gives a lucid introduction to sigil magick via Austin Osman Spare, and introduces chaote philosophy.

The introduction to incense creation and aromatherapy have been criticized as being out of place in a book dedicated to chaos magick, but in many ways I think that rather misses the point.

3. Infernal Texts: Nox and Liber Koth, edited by Stephen Sennitt

Nox is an anthology of twenty-two essays and articles previously published in Sennitt’s magazine of the same name written by various chaos and black magickians. It primarily consists of the rites and theories of the Order of Nine Angels, and draws heavily on the Golden Dawn, Aleister Crowley, the OTO, and Lovecraft for inspiration.

Writers often “correct” the views of earlier authors, Lovecraft in particular (apparently forgetting that he wrote fiction), and Liber Koth focuses entirely on working with the Cthulhu Mythos.

These texts provide an enchanting snapshot of chaos magick’s earlier and darker influences circa the 1980s. The edge seems to have dulled somewhat in subsequent generations, and this book provides a great reminder of what once was. (Dead but dreaming…?)

4. Condensed Chaos: An Introduction to Chaos Magic, by Phil Hine

Hine covers a wide variety of introductory topics in an easy, conversational style in this New Falcon title published in 1995. Hine employs a number of mnemonic devices intended to be “cute,”¹ but the book is light and fun.

If there was one book you were going to use to introduce chaos magick to your non-chaote friends who had a dim view of the subject: this book would provide an excellent start and step towards rectifying that view.

5. Now That’s What I Call Chaos Magick, by Greg Humphries and Julian Vayne

Published in 2004 by Mandrake of Oxford, NTWICCM, after a brief introduction to chaos magick, the authors launch into descriptions of their work. Numerous rituals are presented, often written in the first-person, describing the rite performed and reflections from participants.

Formulaic rites aren’t given for the reader to perform, and theories aren’t expounded upon in great detail; NTWICCM shows you what chaos magick is like in action. It’s an odd approach, but, in many ways, it works.

It continues to surprise me how often I am asked for recommendations on books about chaos magick. I’ve often thought it dead as a movement, but as new people hit upon the term, a new wave of practitioners follows, each brining their own ideas into the practice.

What would your top five be?

First published on Plutonica.net 02 April 2008.

1. e.g. S.P.L.I.F.F.: Statement of intent, Pathways available, Link, Intense gnosis/indifferent Vacuity, Fire, Forget

A sin against yourself is something that only you can judge. You sin against yourself every time you do something that goes directly against your True Will. When you do not live up to your honest potential, when what you do holds you back instead of propelling you forth, even if that thing is refusing to forgive yourself for past mishaps, I believe you are sinning against yourself. (It should be noted that I do not feel this applies to normal, natural, healthy periods of stagnation, contemplation and plateau states.)

I used to think that the concept of True Will was malarkey. No one I spoke with could tell me what True Will was or how to discover it. I kept asking and wondering what kind of person doesn’t know what he or she really wants in life? But then I took a good look at the society around me, and I saw that we tie ourselves into secret knots all the time, constantly confusing ourselves about what we want and what is best.

Not to fear. Clarity of vision is possible and, eventually, one must realize, ideal.

Life is something grand and sublime, even if difficult and traumatic. It is not to be muddled through forever. A certain peace with what is must eventually transpire or a kind of self-implosion occurs and that individual life seems to become a moot point or a lost cause, doomed to loop in desperation. What’s the point of living if you aren’t even going to do yourself justice?

This is not the life for you.

I can think of few things worse than deathbed regrets. Glorify yourself and live the life you know you mean for yourself. Do not waste this grand process on confusion or self-delusion or illusory struggling for things that fail to satisfy even the most basic urges. Everyone deserves to eventually get what they most deeply crave (and I don’t believe that is ever something that must infringe on the rights of other humans.) Even the murderer, the rapist, the pedophile and the abuser are seeking something beyond the vile acts they are committing: some measure of justice for past wrongs, acceptance and understanding, love. Their methods of achievement are warped by illness, usually stemming from the same kinds of abuse and a deprivation of the things everyone needs most: love, acceptance, purpose, but also basic physical necessities like shelter and vital nutrients.

Love is the Law.

True Love or Philios, as discussed here, is unconditional compassion. It is not possessive. It is devoid of fears and insecurities. It is heart chakra wide open, and it acknowledges that suffering exists, that suffering must exist, even while attempting to soothe suffering because too much suffering leads to the kinds of dysfunctions mentioned above. And Love does not abide. Love strives for right thinking and right action.

It is okay to have compassion for such dysfunctional people as described above, acknowledging the human condition, even while feeling disgust and anger at their methods. To feel compassion is not to say that atrocities such as rape or murder are okay, but to acknowledge the suffering and the illness that have led up to the acts committed. Philios, True Love for humankind, insists that one must consider and when possible, attend to, these aspects of suffering. Motions towards healing are the natural inclination of the proponent of Philios, and healing is a vital part of the Great Work.

I have yet to experience anything greater than love in its various manifestations, but especially Philios, compassionate love for self and one’s fellow humans. Love is a fire at the centre of human existence. A few years ago, I would have scoffed at such a statement, but now it seems perfectly clear, albeit full of a certain New Age charm.

Self-philios is a prime motivator in the quest for purpose in life. Even in the deepest depression or the coldest rage, love for the self is the hidden seed, often obscured by the most immediate emotions. Depression and anger stem from the same source: proper conditions for love of the self to exist peacefully are not being met. Depression occurs when we are uncomfortable with existence for any reason, when we know deep down that we deserve a better life experience, better conditions and when we feel incapable of serving our needs for any reason. Anger is a secondary emotion that arises from pain. When we are confronted with pain, the ego, deriving from love of self, answers with anger at the source of that pain. We are each figuratively the centre of the subjective universe.

Anger and depression are natural things; they are not meant to be eradicated, even in the face of love. They are motivators to great change and progress, a pole of two opposites, gears that come together to grind out the story of human existence. They represent the conflict in the story that must arise to be overcome for the sake of peace and love and joy to reign. But it is an unending process, as long as humanity exists. This is why we have time and history and war.

The trick is to refuse to wallow in either of these emotions, but instead, to actively seek a resolution whenever possible. Some situations seem impossible, but most are limited only by what we deem acceptable or not acceptable in terms of life experiences. Sometimes we have to break our own rules to get ahead.

Philios can inform and expand True Love for the self and vice versa, Philios pointed inwardly informs and expands True Will, which in turn, informs and expands the Great Work, which necessarily flows back into Love and Will. In this cosmology, Love, True Will and the Great Work are all tied in together, flow into one another, expand and strengthen one another. (The symbol for recycling comes to mind here.)

So what is True Will and how does one discover this deepest of motivations? I believe that the answer lies in the subconscious mind, the background signal of the soul, so to speak. Instinct or what we often call intuition is at the very heart of this knowing. Intuition is that little voice in your gut that tells you whether something feels right or wrong at a basic level. If you use it as you would a pendulum to gage your feelings about situations and people and courses of action, I believe it will never steer you in the wrong direction. I believe that the human instinct is infinitely more advanced and elegant than we would usually care to imagine. It seems like an animal thing and we like to forget that we too are animals with keen senses.

“Its inherent Strength is perfected, if it is turned into Earth.”

This line from the Emerald Tablet, that most treasured code of alchemists, effectively sums up how I feel about the natural progression of intuition. As you use intuition, it grows in strength exponentially. You come to understand it, trust it and rely on it. I believe that when you continue in this direction, the intuition becomes tempered with logic, experience and resolve. If and when this enlightened intuition becomes personified, one attains Knowledge of and Conversation with the Holy Guardian Angel. The HGA is your deepest need and motivation given voice and utilized as a guiding force and motivator, broadcasting the True Will. This voice can be so powerful that it may seem alien and external, and it has been known by many other names: Higher Self, Spirit Guide, Gwo Bon Anj, even God. And it can be fierce, it can be terrifying. I fully understand why magi of the past have referred to this voice as angelic, as I view angels as similarly great and terrible. Knowledge and Conversation has been associated with a complete opening of the heart chakra. This love flows back into itself, and the voice of the HGA is tempered with love and ferocity as much as with reason.

As you follow the mandates of your True Will more and more, there will be fewer and fewer doubts about the veracity of this voice, and you will probably notice a lot of interesting synchronicities cropping up in your life because so much of who you are will feed into this Work. Your resolve will be strong and you will understand what it is you must do with your existence. The discovery of that purpose is what leads to the Great Work.

The question of life’s purpose comes up repeatedly in the conversations and writings of mystical seekers. No matter how atheistic the mood or attitude of the individual in question, there seems to be an underlying feeling that each life is potentially valuable; that there is some destined purpose in store and that one must strive to discover it at any cost. Some of us even like to speculate that this is a role chosen before birth. I do not know whether there is a before life and an afterlife, but I can say with certainty that purpose is not something that hunts you down and hands you a script. Purpose is something that arises from your passions, something that is up to you to define.

“God helps those who help themselves.”

As I struggled with depression in my teens and early twenties, I wished desperately for purpose to reveal itself to me. It was only later when I realized how unreasonable this wish was that I made any progress in defining my life’s work. “God helps those who help themselves” was a line that was continuously going through my head. I’m agnostic, but I believe God is, among other things, a model for our grandest visions of ourselves and a word that describes the intense human emotion of Agape. We don’t just stumble upon purpose; we flesh it out with great intent.

The Great Work, as the natural conclusion to the purpose revealed by the True Will through the voice of the Holy Guardian Angel, is more than a single act or project, but a layered process. To do this work is to heal, to become highly functional, to utilize your greatest potential and to manifest your deepest needs and desires.

The Great Work is you, how you live your life and what you produce, how you shape and create yourself, the legacy you leave when you die. The Great Work is to turn the common, poisonous lead of the base self into the malleable, reflective, highly prized gold of the Adept. An apt symbol for the Adept, gold has long been associated with the most powerful source known to humanity: the Sun.

Everyone wants to be remembered for something. In an existence of uncertain mortality, this slight measure of immortality is a deeply gratifying thought. Death is something best approached with wonder and a sense that one has done right in the world. Knowing that you have enacted meaning for your existence is the difference between a peaceful death and a death that is marred by painful regrets.

Start thinking about what is most satisfying and sacred to you. It may be something like a broad appreciation for music; in which case, your underlying deepest motivation may be a need to inspire or to be understood. Whatever the outward expressions of your deepest passions are, remember that there is an internal emotional motivation to be sought out. Take this basic motivation, consider your favorite mediums and figure out what you can put out into the world to satisfy your purpose. Write a general mission statement that you can refer back to when you need to refocus. Write longer missions statements for each project, and most importantly, manifest what you envision with the strongest resolve. There will follow an ongoing process of refinement leading up to an impressive body of work or to one unifying project that sums up everything you want to communicate to the world.

Your Great Work is waiting. Do not fear, but become the roaring visionary fire you know you must be.

Sitting at my cubicle, work is where I listen to podcasts when my mp3 player starts to seem repetitive.¹ Late December and early January I was on vacation, and so, behind. I recently caught up and finally listened to the latest Tarot Connection episodes.

In episode 67, host Leisa ReFalo and guest Roger Tobin tackled the subject of “difficult cards” from a variety angles, specific “difficult” cards for the client and for the reader; cards which might seem scary for a client unfamiliar with their meaning (Death, the Devil and the Tower are common examples), and cards which are challenging for the reader to interpret, either because they’re still unclear on the meaning, or even simply because they don’t often turn up during a reading (we all have cards like this).

We’ll tackle the second part first: cards which are difficult for the reader to interpret. This seems to come down to experience and exposure more than anything else. A good exercise to overcome this might be to go through your deck and vocally give a brief interpretation of the card². Where you have trouble, separate those cards from the deck to work with. Write down what you feel your trouble is with that card, and what it could mean both as a card and in relation to the difficulty you experience with it.

The understanding and depth of interpretation for any given card will change and grow naturally with experience in using the cards, and also with one’s magickal practice – especially in regards to specifically occult decks such as the Crowley-Harris Thoth tarot.³

Now we come to the potentially tricky part: assuaging client’s fears about “negative” cards. Earlier, we talked about providing information that was useful to the client and this applies here, especially. We don’t want to sugar-coat a card’s meaning, but we also don’t want to have the client feel we’re deliberately leaving something out.

For example, upon seeing the Death card come up in a reading, immediately rushing to say “Don’t worry! It doesn’t actually mean death!” can come across as disingenuous. Even if it is (usually) true, expressing enthusiastic concern for the card may come across as over-anxious, and this tends to alarm the client more than reassure. Better to calmly take it in turn, rather than leaping to defend the card, unless the client specifically mentions it, in which case a smile and a comment on its metaphoric gloss might be helpful.

On the whole though, I don’t think “bad cards” pose a serious problem for the reader when taken individually. Sure some cards are more welcome than other, but in context they may not actually refer to anything “bad.” As Leisa ReFalo pointed out in episode 67, even the Tower can be a welcome card when the client is actively seeking divorce.

Rather, it’s the collective interpretation of all the cards in a spread with negative connotations which lends problems in relaying the meaning to the client as this is far trickier to do. This takes us back to our earlier themes. Reading for others is a huge responsibility, and while we want to provide useful information, it can be very difficult to convey when the message isn’t as victorious as the Six of Wands or as bright as the Sun.

First published on Plutonica.net 13 January 2008.

1. Again, music I typically burn from store-bought CDs. Take that, you RIAA bastards.
2. Doing this as a vocal exercise forces you to put into concrete words what you see in the cards, rather than merely intuiting the meaning. Both are useful, but when you’re reading for a client, they’re not going to be able to feel what you sense in the cards unless you vocalize it.
3. The history in Crowley’s The Book of Thoth might not be great, but the occult symbolism is quite complex and not made immediately obvious even after years of study and practice – it’s really something that has to be worked at.

Neolithic Shamanism: Spirit Work in the Norse Tradition, by Raven Kaldera and Galina Krasskova

The title, Neolithic Shamanism, may be a bit misleading as there is not a lot careful exploration of the stone age, but the sub-title, “Spirit Work in the Norse Tradition” seems closer to the subject of the book.  The book instead serves as an introduction to the Northern Tradition – which the authors use to refer to a specific modern tradition, not simply the hearth cultures of Northern Europe and the modern practices derived from them. However, by looking at the natural rather than cultural aspects, they seem to be trying to go back to the bare bones of the matter.  Regardless, much of the information is generalizable and the book can be read in this broader light, so long as the reader understands that this is not its primary purpose or intention.

The two authors do a lot of online writing, via website and blog. I imagine maintaining their own voice as a space for their thoughts alone can be very difficult when producing a lot of material online. The book is written in an engaging and accessible fashion, not unlike their online works. At times its black and white style may seem a bit fixed or doctrinaire. This book exhibits none of the self effacing litanies and apologetics so often used in neo-Pagan writing to placate the ego of the reader or overemphasize having made room for every other possible opinion. The book is a straightforward account of how the authors see the world, nothing more.

Beyond the introductory chapters to the book and the tradition, which should be read first, before reading any other chapters; there are chapters, in order, about: Earth, Sun, Moon, Plants, Animals, Water, Fire, Crafted items, Air, and Ancestors, and an epilogue on the nature of oaths, and relationship with the spirits in our world. The order of the chapters seems a bit random, but  each chapter can, for the most part, stand on its own. Given the standalone quality of the chapters, and the well organized and comprehensive index, this book can be read cover to cover or browsed for information about a particular element or exercise.

Some of the information in this book is at odds with notions found in popular neo-Paganism, and the authors are quick to say as much. For example, the system has more than four elements, since each element is treated as an aspect of nature, rather than a pristine building block from which nature is constructed. Likewise, the Sun is depicted as feminine and the Moon as masculine. This actually is in line with the hearth cultures of Northern and Western Europe, when seen in their own light rather than through a Wiccan or neo-classical lens. Where there are historical precedents the authors say a bit about that, which is nice.

A few times in each chapter the book has a sort of anecdotal quality, as the authors share bits and pieces of their personal experience with the elements of the natural world. For example, in the ‘Red World’ chapter about relating to fire, they write about learning to make fire for themselves, how difficult that was, and what this taught them.

I really appreciate the frankness with which the authors describe the dangers of the natural world. They honestly convey the unpredictability of fire, the ferocious nature of vast bodies of water, or the behaviour of animals – which are viewed with a healthy respect for their intelligences, but are not anthropomorphised or made ‘cuddlier’ than they really are. This is something that is often forgotten (or flat-out misrepresented!) by some of our more romantic authors; especially those from countries where ‘wilderness’ has been reduced to safe pastoral environs where most dangers have long since been culled.

The elements are not refined moral powers, a fact which makes me wonder, and not for the first time, if perhaps morality is what beings more like us bring to the table; if so, we are failing. Regardless, this book affirms, both in general, and with its final statement, that the elemental powers all around us “can teach us again how to be in this world, not separated from it. We are not alone – we never were – and all we have to do is learn and listen.”¹

1. p.324

Whether or not the future is set can become irrelevant when the cards clearly foretell disaster for the querent. When the cards spell doom, deciding how to relate that can be tricky. Changeable or not, it’s rarely something a querent wants to hear, and depending on who the querent is it can be more detrimental to share this information than not.

Consider the following case, reported by Austin Osman Spare in a brief essay, “Mind to Mind and How” (reprinted by Fulgur in Two Tracts on Cartomancy):

I was telling a friend’s fortune, and could ‘see’ that he would die within a few months. Naturally, I did not tell him so, but what I did advise him was to at once put his affairs in order and that in a few months there would be a very great change in his affairs, of which not much could be said. Meantime, there was great happiness for him, though he was to guard against accident. He was happy for the few months that he lived.

This is a drastic case, and it matters little whether or not it is objectively “true” – it is instructive nonetheless; the cards don’t always describe “nice” things.

Naturally, had Spare plainly stated what “seen” it would have greatly alarmed and upset his client, and likely make him miserable for the time that remained. There are some things that tact can’t solve and where no amount of delicacy in describing what has been seen is possible.

There were a few options available that he could have considered.

Spare could have refused the reading – even after laying out the cards, claiming a headache or some more mystical malady that would have incapacitated him, preventing him from continuing the reading. Alternately he could have reshuffled the cards, saying the message wasn’t “clear,” rather than describe what the cards told.

However, for such a drastic reading, neither of these would have been particularly useful for his client. His affairs may not have been put his affairs in order, and may have simply carried on as usual and not even considered living life with an eye for happiness had Spare not specifically suggested it.

Reading for another is quite a responsibility, and – more often than we’d like – the message they relay isn’t always about a new relationship just around the corner or sacks of money arriving in next week’s post. Sometimes it is about divorce, losing one’s job, discomfort – and, yes, even death.

The story Spare related represents a fair presentation of the reading with an eye to providing useful information, if not strictly an accurate depiction of what the cards described. It is in handling these difficult subjects that a reader really begins to understand the nature of hir responsibility to hir client.

First published on Plutonica.net 1 January 2008.

Generation Hex was released last year, edited by Jason Louv and published by the folks at Disinformation.com.

It’s a collection of essays written by magickians under thirty, several of whom I’m familiar with online, and some I’ve not spoken to for years. I found it a great nostalgic piece, despite the fact it was supposed to be cutting edge; it more reminded me where I’ve been, and where I’ve found others. It’s the kind of book you can read to know you’re not alone.

Michelle Belanger edited Vampires in Their Own Words: An Anthology of Vampire Voices, published by Llewellyn in October, an anthology of vampires writing about themselves.A lot of it is self indulgent, and many of their stories sound the same, but for another vampire picking this up and reading this material for the first time it will seem a comfort: that sense of familiarity, though the variety of opinions on what the correct conduct “should” be may appear confusing. Even so, this anthology does provide a broader view of vampirism as a condition, lifestyle and general subculture for those merely seeking to better understand it, and for that it should be commended. (Full review here.)

I just finished reading Magick on the Edge: Adventures in Experimental Magick, edited by Taylor Ellwood and published by Immanion Press. Again, I know many of the occultists who wrote for the anthology, talented people, though it’s another mixed bag.¹ Its theme is “experimental occultism” and while I understand that they’re likely trying to set themselves apart from chaos magick – surely all magick should be experimental? Without experimenting (“doing the work”), how can one expect to achieve any measure of success? There are some great pieces in here, particularly in the last section on “Inner Alchemy.”

First published on Plutonica.net 18 November 2007.

1. Of course, everyone I know who wrote for it was brilliant. *cough*

My first successes with invocation and atavistic resurgence occurred while experimenting with chemognosis.  These experiments led to varying levels of possession, which I adopted as my gold standard for invocation.  Yet, in other ritual contexts, I found I could not approach these states, leaving me with a problem.  Excitatory techniques of gnosis, particularly dance and spinning, would bring on a light possession but required a good deal of room and were not appropriate to certain godforms or qualities I wished to work with.  Dependence on them also left open-hand magic completely out of the question.

Further exploration with invocation finally made it clear that possession was not necessary, or even desirable most of the time, for the magic to work.  In Visual Magick, Jan Fries makes the penetrating point that dependence on extreme forms of gnosis leads to a poorly equipped magician, and postulates a root in overly rigid character structure.  Still, I wanted to reliably access those states of possession, for I love when qualities external to the ego sweep it away.  Perhaps I simply needed a softening.

My current techniques of practice came from my work with the t’ai chi form.  The ideal form allows each movement to arise, without force, while the practitioner remains completely present.  It takes quite a balancing act, to avoid “doing” without thoughts drifting all over the place.  Practicing in this manner, the state of possession that develops feels quite clear to me.

Generalizing this experience, I developed a new procedure for practicing possession.  First, I choose the principle to work with and evoke it.  Then I go out for a jaunt and use the Right Way of Walking to enter gnosis.  With just a light focus on the quality, possession builds easily and progressively.  The results have fascinated me.  Resistances to the invocation appear as tension within my body and relaxing into it provides the only way deeper.  I generally work with polarities, and the most difficult pairs always involve some identification one way or the other.  By freeing up these identifications and relaxing the tensions that sustain them, the appearance of novel behaviour or information reliably arises.  The magic happens.

These experiments have revealed to me a more effective standard for success in invocation and possession.  When I “knew” where the process should arrive at, I increasingly limited the breadth and depth of results.  Adopting the expression of novelty as a measure opens new avenues, both for growth and for the manifestation of results.  Uncertainty appears, everywhere I look.

First published on Plutonica.net 29 May 2010.

At first glance, I was expecting another introductory magic book with a bit of southern flair. On this front Orion Foxwood’s book does not disappoint, as it does provide a number of important basics in a clear, easily understood, and practical way. However, what really makes this book compelling is that in addition to the basics of Conjure, there are a few other interesting strands in the fabric of this book. These include auto-biographical elements, auto-ethnographical elements, and a sense of spirituality that goes beyond the use of magic as a simply occult means to practical ends.

Biographically, Foxwood opens a window onto his life growing up in the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia, and his later move to Maryland. He tells us about conversations with his mother and mother’s midwife, both practitioners of Conjure. His lived experience is an effective vehicle to introduce us to both Conjure and the culture it comes from.

Ethnographically, we are introduced to the magical side of southern culture in an engaging and accessible way. We see a world where African, European, and Native folk magic have come together to make a uniquely American, and uniquely southern system of magic. It is syncretic and eclectic, yet coherent and profoundly grounded in the land and the history of the people who live there.

On the ‘how to’ side of things, The Candle and the Crossroads is not over-stuffed with dozens of recipes tailored to various ends. You will not find formulas and spells for love, money, luck, or cursing. Instead, it emphasises some very important basics, which are important not only for beginners but serve as a foundation for an effective practice. Foxwood emphasises the need for cleansing and clearing, both ritually and in how one lives. He looks at techniques for working via prayer, with fire and candles, with the river, with the crossroads, with the cemetery and the ancestors. And, yes there is some discussion of various roots and other magical substances, but this is not the primary focus of the book. Don’t get me wrong, there is enough here for the experimentally minded among us to dip into the practice of Conjure, but in many ways this book is more about preparing the practitioner than detailing all the minutia of the practice itself. That said, there are some very clear descriptions of how to cultivate a powerful and empowering prayer life, how to get and use grave yard dirt, how to engage the Rider at the Crossroad, and more.

At its heart, this book is about a way of engaging the world – magical and self-empowering, to be sure – but it is the actual call to connection that is most important in this book. Foxwood calls us to connect with the living, with the dead, with plants and place, with the past, with a certain culture, and with the divine. He describes a form of magic grounded in building relationship with the spirits, both for your own personal development and making the world around you a better place. “The conjurer conjures from the spirit, for the spirit, and through the spirit. No exceptions ever!”¹ The most important ‘root’ in ‘root work,’ the most valuable spirit in ‘spirit work’ is your own Spirit, which must be cleansed and nourished and firmly grounded in who you are, where you come from, and why you are here.

In the end, this book attempts to convey not only a basic knowledge of Conjure, but the foundational wisdom of Conjure.  And while neither wisdom nor acculturation can be gained through a book, I think that Foxwood points the way as well as can be done within the bounds of the printed word.

1. p. 73

Here are a few tips:

Read indiscriminately.

Don’t just read occult books, read history, philosophy, biography, science as well as literature and sci-fi – read everything you can get your hands on. Read books on topics you’re interested in, but read outside your favourite genre for a more well-rounded perspective. This broadens your contextual reference points to those outside your personal experience and typical media intake. You’ll notice allusions pop up that previously slid by and you really will have a greater understanding of the world in which you live.

Engage in your reading.

Reading isn’t intended to be the passive absorption of television. With television the show goes on and on, breaks for ads, and continues. With a book you pause, reflect, mull ideas over – perhaps even put it down for a day or two while you digest and integrate some salient point.

Read critically.

Take notes. Don’t just highlight passages you agree with, take note of those you don’t and figure out where the disconnect is or how you’d phrase a passage to suit your understanding. Read for subtext; what’s said but not written.  Check it against your experience, the experience of your friends, family or colleagues.

Acquiring an understanding of the material is critical.

This does not equate to agreeing with a given text, but it does involve being able to discuss points with an intelligence demonstrating reflective thought rather than parroting. If you’re challenging yourself rather than surface reading Dick and Jane books you’re going to find that you don’t understand some of the material – recognizing this demonstrates an understanding of your gaps. Don’t let them linger. Read more, do more, discover more. (Hint: There will always be more, and you can always delve deeper.)

There is no substitute for personal experience.

If you’re reading an occult text, for example, and it describes a magickal technique you’ve not tried before, but find intriguing, try it out – several times. The author’s account is not a substitute for your own experience. Reading should supplement and expand the context of your own work: not replace it.

In a field where self improvement and self mastery are goals, there is no such thing as being “beyond the books” – there will always be a fresh take which settle experience in perspective or challenges old patterns and inspires action. How can this be “over-rated?”

The only limits are those you allow and set in your own thinking – consciously or not. Don’t blame the books.

First published on Plutonica.net 2 December 2007.

1. Yes, this is the same semi-private occult community of ninjas, pirates and reality hackers riddled with secret cabals so elite whose name I dare not speak referenced in [post removed].