Sunday, August 31, 2008


I was introduced to magick at age eighteen. The longing for understanding "God" entered my soul at that moment. To this day, twenty-four years later, the longing is still there but the emotion is different. That emotion changed when the self-perception changed. So subtle was the progression that pinpointing a time and place is as difficult as following a leaf's path down a mountain stream.

At eighteen, I was rabidly insecure and nervous. So nervous that from time to time my hands would shake when performing simple tasks like putting gas in my car. Things weren't that bad often and I was functional but not socially. My small circle of friends was all I had.

This state was reflected when I tried to do LBRPs. For years, I was afraid. No, terrified of what I may call up. Pentagrams were of the devil, a perception ground in by Hollywood for the most part but I am sure some TV preacher contributed too. Or, so I used to think. I am coming to understand the fear I felt was my own fear. So insecure was I that fear sprang from an subconscious belief these beings of light would reject me. My saving grace was that longing for understanding. With cold fear clawing at my heart, I kept doing LBRPs. Every part of me knew that this was the way. The fear, cold as steel, could not restrain my longing heart.

The status quo held for a decade.

The root of this fear laid in the soil of self-loathing. There was no part of me that I liked very much. Every emotion, every longing had to be repressed. No one else longed for love or sex or friendships. It never occurred to me that since other people had these things, they likely longed for them as much as I did.

At some point, I read a book on shamanic journeying. The book was written with a Native American flavor. I have no idea if it was genuine or not. Though, given the state of the occult publishing industry at the time and what WitchdoctorJoe has told me about the realities of Native American magick, I doubt it. Despite that I journeyed. I encountered spirits. I believed I encountered spirits. The first thing I ran into was a tree spirit of some type. The second a stag.

My good friend warned me of the power of the stag without telling me its lore. Eventually, I came to believe that the stag I was seeing was seeing was the horned god of the Wiccans. Oddly enough, I found a trad Wiccan coven. After being initiated neophyte, they convinced me that not only did I not see the stag but my perceptions were "delusional." Devastating. Yet, at the core, this was a manifestation of that same fear which again had its roots in self-depreciation. Funny, to look back and now I think they had a version of a similar problem.

While I was a Wiccan, I was initiated into the GD. I had no idea what the GD was really. Except that from the first time I saw the words Golden Dawn adept, I wanted to be one. The title concerned me not, I simply thought the rightful wearer of that title had understanding.

The longing burned on.

I am not a GD adept but somewhere amongst the initiations, the emotionally painful fallout therefrom, the hard work of ritual and study, finding my HGA and now the beginnings of a relationship with Asmodel, the longing has changed.

There is no more self-depreciation. There is no more senseless time wasting anger. This is different but trying to define this new emotionally based desire is like trying to repair a car armed with only a 3/16 wrench. I simply do not have the words.

Faith has always been part of my Work, even though I knew it not. Now, the faith is knowledged-based. I know my HGA is there. I know the spirits are there. I know I have the ability to reach them and hear them clearly. The need to understand has never wained no matter how many kernels of truth are uncovered. Hope. The emotion is flooded with hope. Hope for the evolution of my soul. Hope that my soul may be of useful service to others or the Source. The new emotion overflows in the spirit of nameless religion. Compassion is there even when such feelings focus on no one. Peace. I feel peace. How peace and this longing co-exist is beyond my understanding. Quiet. Everything is quieter now. Love. I feel love a lot now. Love of the divine. Love of my fellow humans. Love directed at nothing at all. Just love that's all.

Is there a word for all that? Is silence the best way to express all of that?

I am here, where I've always wanted to be. Yet, I've undershot. There is more. So much more. The longing still burns with hope, faith, love, peace, compassion and nameless religion. If ever I feel that longing fade, with all my soul I will stoke those fires for they have served me well.


WitchDoctorJoe said...

Muslims forbid the use of an image of Allah, it limits your perception.

A "Nameless Religion" is equally inspiring.

Thank you.

Persephone said...

Wow, that was a beautiful entry. I'm really enjoying your blog.

If you want to read mine (I'm Queen of Hell, a friend of Jason Miller) write me at persephone (but omit the space in between that I'm putting in to evade the spam bots) 712 at gmail.


Frater BH said...


Thank you for the compliment. I've emailed you asking for permission to see your blog.


Lavanah said...

Beautiful post. And, I truly admire your fearlessness.