Showing posts with label Spirit Arte. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spirit Arte. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Seeking A Familiar: A Festival Summoning Rite, 8/2018



This August, at the 20th annual Summerland Gathering in SE Ohio I led an operation to allow the
participants to make a personal spirit alliance. I framed this alliance as seeking “a familiar” – that key individual ally that magicians work with to gain wider entrĂ©e among the spirits, and direct aid in practical magic. It was an interesting and, I think, productive effort overall, and I’ve made some choices of direction as a result, for further workings of the rite.

Summerland is primarily a gathering of Druidic Pagans working in ADF and is held in a 4H camp with good facilities. With chancy weather on the day of the rite we chose to use the small hearth in the large, covered pavilion for the rite. This may have reduced the romantic-setting factor, compared to an outdoor firepit, but the mechanics of making rather a lot of offerings were probably improved.

The rite itself is a fairly complex thing, as modern rites go. It is based on my understanding of the patterns of grimoire spirit-arte, adapted for group work. It relies on entrancement and vision to provide the ‘appearance’ of the spirits, but treats them as real and specific entities, whose alliance we intend to make. Let me give a summary outline, in lieu of the full script:
• Preliminary entrancement and centering
• Blessing of the ritual space
• Establishment of ‘the Gate’, and invocation of a gatekeeper God to ward the Gate and the work.
• Preliminary offering to All Spirits, as the Three Kindreds of Gods, Dead, and Landspirits.
• Invocation of the God of the Rite – In this case Dagda Mor, as God of Magic, and especially his person of Ruad Rofessa
• Receiving the Blessing of the Gods – in this case as an anointing of the eyes with blessed water, to induce spirit-sight.
• Convoking the ‘Court of the Willing’ – all those spirits who are inclined to gather at our Fire
• Oath and Binding of the Convoked spirits: Very gently done.
• Individual calling: a litany during which each participant called to an individual spirit, if one would come
• Treating with the spirit: time of silence for individuals to speak or experience the result.
• The License to Depart, and closings as usual.
Once participant described the rite as having ‘quite a few moving parts’, but it took about an hour including the periods of silence and vision.

The work went smoothly, from my side of the fire, with L and I doing a pretty tight job with the multi-stage ritual. Though we worked in a large ‘hangar’ of a room with merchants etc, the ambient noise was both quieted and nicely vanished behind the trance-work, I thought. There’s nothing like live fire and regular oil-offerings to help concentrate attention.

The new and chancy portion of the outline is the transition from the presence of the Host of those who arrive, and accept the Oath (see my other articles onthis method) to the individual alliances, done personally, by each committed participant. I devised a repetitious litany of calling to lead into the trance silence, and recited a quiet charm about alliance while they worked. There was the common wait for the last members to open their eyes and make contact to signal that they had finished, but no specific rescues were needed.

The ideal model for a festival-working like this would be to have briefings both before and following the ritual itself. It can be an imposition in an event’s busy schedule to take that much space, and so I had no de-briefing round-robin of responses from the company. I did have conversations with a number of them, and responses ranged from “I saw the crowd of spirits’ among those less experienced to what seem significant personal alliances. In a festival setting I am always pleased if even a core number of folks really get their button pushed by the work. I will call this a reasonable win on points.

First Steps with a New Ally
In Lieu of a chance for instructions and further work I’ll include some notes here.
• Your memories and impressions of the contact may vary in the hours and days following. Your final impressions should be balanced against your first impressions, as you get to know the spirit.
• Represent the spirit at your home shrine. You may have a sense of the form, or proper image – cards from oracle decks, nature-images, etc may provide options. Relatedly:
• Consider deriving a sigil, if you have not been shown one. Sigils are derived by various occult methods from the letters of the spirit’s name. The sigil can be combined with an image to good effect as a real-world anchor for the spirit.
• Develop a simple yes/no/maybe divination tool, and begin using it to converse with and confirm messages with the spirit. I have used plain and fancy two-sided coins, sets of three dice, short packs of red and black playing cards. Get used to actually abiding by the omens of such conversations, even while you open yourself to direct conversation.
• Instruct the Familiar. Bring them to your shoulder explain to them important things in your life. Do not assume a spirit understands material life the same way you do. This can also be done, together, in vision.
• Assign your familiar simple tasks after explaining the elements and target clearly. Consider using divination to see whether the task is doable.

• A Simple Charm To call the New Ally to You
• Arrange the spirit’s sigil, or contact-item, and have the proper offering, according to the pact.
• Hallow the space with a simple blessing unless a more formal offering is required.
• Speak the Spirit’s name and call it to you in simple words, then recite the central part of the Charm of the Pact. I provide the whole text, as in the rite:
• The Charm of the Pact
So this we swear, we two, and make our pact,
Between my mortal spirit and your own
By my eyes’ light and blood within in my veins,
By flesh and breath, and by ancestor’s bone.

Our troth we give, together, you and I
You by your power, me with offerings true
Come when I call, and aid me as I will
And all due honor I will give to you

If ever I should fail to keep the pact,
Or you should fail to come when I do call
Then null shall be our bargain, done and done
      And each depart, with harm to none at all.

• Greet the spirit and make the offering. Converse as you may.
• Charge the spirit as you will.
• End the session with a polite send-off.

I just posted a longer rite that employs the Familiar for a specific practicalmagic goals by sending it as a herald. That can be a next-step, and a way to work with your ally for more distant goals.

To Ask the Familiar For An Agent.


This is imported from my small, practical book "Pagan Spells", which also contains a rite for making alliance with a Familiar Spirit.

In many cases, when you have a specific need for magic, it can be answered by asking your allies for aid. The Ancestral Teacher can convey many things to and for you, and the Familiar can be your herald or your guardian. But no spirit has every power. If your Familiar should be of the Wise, then martial tasks are not best suited to it, if it is of stone then it might not work the weather. Yet the Familiar is a spirit, free in the realm of spirits, and it can be asked to find a proper agent among the spirits to do as you wish.
            For those with a developed relationship with their allies this can be as simple as an inner conversation, the spirit called by will alone. In moments of immediate need, the simple charms in the calling section of this work can bring the Familiar quickly, without formal ritual. For newer students, it is well to set this request into a ritual format. Even for the experienced, we find that our calling and speaking with spirits takes on a repetitive, ritualized tone. In my opinion that is simply the spirits’ way of communicating with mortals.
            In this simple charm you will need only a simple fire-offering for the Kindreds, and whatever offering has been customary between you and your Familiar. If you are regularly offering to your allies at your shrine, you can simply ask them for aid in honor of your relationship. If you have something more serious or unusual a special offering is best. When in doubt, make the offering.
           
The Work:

• Find your basic trance, and attune to the Two Powers
• Offer to the Fire, Well & Tree, saying:
Mother of All, Let this Well be blessed.
First Father, kindle magic in this Fire.
Let this Tree be the Crossroads of All Worlds,
That the Sacred Grove may be established.

• Sprinkle all from the Well, and cense from the Fire, saying:
By the might of the Waters
and the Light of the Fire,
this Grove is made whole and holy.

• Make an offering into the Fire, and say:
Keeper of Gates, aid me to open the Ways.

• With your work hand, make a welcoming triskel (in to out, deisil) over the Fire, saying:
By Land, Sky and Sea;
By Gods, Dead & Sidhe;
By Fire, Well & Tree;
Let the Gate be open!
• Turn once deasil, saying:
So the Way is opened and this place is claimed. Let no ill or harm come to me and mine, and Wisdom, Love and Power flow to me through this gate. So be it!

• A short invocation to the Kindreds, with a simple offering, can be done if this is being done formally at the shrine:
Gods and Dead and Mighty Sidhe
Powers of Land and Sky and Sea
A gift I give, from me to thee
Come and lend your aid to me.

Prepare the Offering and envision the Familiar, calling to it both with your voice, if possible, and aloud in your mind, saying perhaps:
O spirit (spirit’s name) O Noble One
I call to you by Well and Fire and Tree
Draw near, and come in peace, I bid you now,
Take you this gift, O (spirit) come to me!



• When you feel the presence of the spirit, greet it with a flow of love and welcome in your heart, asking it your boon, saying perhaps:
Welcome (spirit), to my fire in peace. I would ask a boon.
Can you send a spirit, O (spirit)
Can you send a spirit?
I would work my will, whether you are sent or you can send a spirit.
To: (state intention clearly and specifically)
Do this for me and I will give to you due offering.

This can be repeated, often three times. After each repetition, open your Inner Eye to the Familiar, and seek a response, conversing as is useful. Can the Familiar find an agent? What are your specific needs? – include a time-based deadline if you need to. If you like, use a simple divination to see whether your visions are true. After three repetitions, you may spend some time communing with the Familiar, perhaps meeting the agent that is found for the task, perhaps not.

• When you know that the work will be done, thank the Familiar, saying something like:
Depart now, my friend, O (spirit’s name), and remember your oath, complete the charge I have given you, with harm to none, and come again at the proper time, or whenever I might call you, and I will make to you due offering.

• A Short Closing

Let bound be bound and wound be wound;
Thus all is done, and done, and well done,
And thus I end what was begun.

Make a banishing spiral (out to in, tuathal) over the Fire, saying:

The sacred center has held well,
Now, by Tree and Fire and Well,
Let this gate be closed!

To the Three Holy Kindreds I give my thanks.
To the Keeper of Gates I give my thanks.
To the Mother of All I give my thanks.
Let wisdom, love and power kindle in all beings

The rite is ended!


Tuesday, May 8, 2018

Gods and Spirits, Magic and Prayer



“Prayer is a form of magic.” “Magic is applied prayer.” One hears these saws often enough in current discourse about Pagan religion and practical magic. Neither assertion has ever rung the bell for me. I feel as if there is a significant difference between what is done when we pray, and what is done when we work a spell for a practical goal.

Refusing to resort to dictionaries, I assert: “Prayer is a verbal or internal address to a/the deity. Often it includes a request for specific aid, though it may be or include some other conversation. While traditional prayer was often scripted, traditional and uniform, prayer is also often performed ex tempore.” Beyond that description, prayer has the connotation of a request to a ‘higher power’, and the inevitable implication that the request might be refused. “All prayers are answered,” we hear from monotheist apologists, “but sometimes the answer is no.” 

Magic arts, on a different hand, intend to cause effects and not merely to ask for them to be caused. Magic is a body of technique that uses spiritual skills to work the individual will of the magician. This is accomplished, in tradition, by a combination of work with the living spirits, and with impersonal spiritual forces. Allies are gathered, patterns woven, and pressure-points targeted in the clever ways that are also used in engineering or even artistic composition. One expects that once one has built skill that doing the work correctly will produce the desired result, without being dependent directly on the will of any higher power. “Magic always works – if you do it right,” is the basic aphorism here.
To do a little context, magical manuals are full of prayers and instructions to pray, and how to pray. The preparation for high-end ritual magic commonly involves periods of fasting and prayer 

Philosophers have found reason to object to traditional magic because it implies an effort to coerce the gods. This is a reasonable objection – that mortal-level efforts cannot have the juice to coerce a large transpersonal power, any more than we can move a hurricane with fans. Yet traditional magical rites, and the spoken ‘prayers’ they preserve, are full of both invitations and direct commands to deities and to a variety of other spirits. Here we find the point I intend to make in this piece:
Traditional Magic does not depend on asking the gods to accomplish our goals.

I think this is the core reason I find magic and prayer to be separate.
If magic is not based on petitioning and requesting, what is its basis? As I said, it is a combination of relationship between the magician and the spirits, and the magician’s ability to employ impersonal spiritual forces. What can be missed by modern students, especially those who are inclined to apply generalized ‘religious’ principles to Paganism, is that the Gods are not the only focus of Pagan religion and sometimes not even the primary focus. I have a point to make about practical work with the gods, but first let me think about the big kindreds of non-deity spirits that play a part in magical work.


Magic of the Dead
Traditional sorcery is heavily, perhaps predominantly, powered by the Dead. The ‘hordes of spirits’ often summoned to carry out the conjuror’s will are composed of the restless dead – those spirits inadequately settled by rites or fate, whose hunger, lust and anger can be exploited by magic. In our modern lives we are lucky to be far freer from violence than our pre-Christian ancestors could have imagined. Likewise the culture of magical hexing and spellcraft for personal gain at another’s expense is greatly reduced. Many of us work to calm and cool the restless Dead, not to exploit them. 

Ancestor worship is a different matter, concerned with family, affection and reverence. One no more commands ones ancestors than one’s grandparents. Rather we maintain our relationship with the Beloved Dead and they become primary protections and instructors. Spirits from our family lineages may become familiar allies or important contacts, but often they remain background counselors and support.
Folk-magic customs may seek aid from a specific spirit. Customs surrounding graveyard dirt and such tokens may call on a specific spirit in a specific grave. In some places such graves have become shrines of a sort, regularly visited by those seeking aid. Magic has always had it’s ‘saints’, and even post-Christian magic seems likely to continue the tradition. 

That kind of individualizing and personifying can happen with the non-human spirits of nature as well.

Magic of the Land-Spirits
A variety of magical traditions draw on spirits present as plants and animals. To gather herbs for practical magic is to make a pact with the spirit of the herbs. Plants of special power and lore may be more individualized allies – the mandrake is an example of this kind of plant familiar.
More mobile spirits abide in wind and weather, and can be called to aid the magician, along with the shining beings of sun and moonlight. These spirits, along with the spirits of the green world and even the sea often appear in the forms of animals.

My own intuition is that such animal-formed Landwights were frequently the ‘familiar spirits’ of medieval folk-witches.

Lore is full of tales in which spirits appear as ‘chimaeras’. In Greek story the Chimaera was a Titan-spirit composed of lion, goat and serpent. Thus the ancients depicted mighty spirits in this composite way. The Satyrs and Centaurs of the Greeks, the Griffins of the east, even the Water-Horse or Nuckelavee of Celtic lore use animal forms to display the power of the Nature-Spirits.
Lacking a literate remnant of Northern Pre-Christian magic, we can find many examples of chimaera spirits in the grimoire tradition. The spirits called ‘demons’ in the medieval theological atmosphere of the grimoires can easily be understood as Landwights or ‘elementals’, appearing in animal-mixture forms proper to their natures. The medieval Christian cosmology relegated all such beings to demonic status, even the gentle ‘demons’ that teach poetry and herbcraft.


Daemons of the Gods.
It seems reasonable that even the most able mortal should not be able to ‘command’ great transpersonal spiritual forces. Ancient skeptics and modern have wondered why the planetary powers of wind or water should respond to our calls. I think a reasonable answer lies in the ancient understanding of the Daemons. 

In Hellenic Paganism the relations between mortals and the gods are managed through the uncountable number of spirit servants attendant on every deity. These spirits were called ‘daemons’ (or ‘daimons, same pronunciation…) a word derived from roots meaning ‘able to act’. The daemons attended the sacrifices as regents of the deities, receiving the offerings and ‘carrying’ them to the gods, then bearing in turn the gods’ blessings back to mortal rituals. In doing this they acted (as their name implies) as the active powers of the god, and would have appeared and acted as the deity, often bearing the symbols and tools of the god. So if a traveler were visited by an apparition of a fine naked young fellow with wings on his hat, he would likely assume it to be both a daemon of Hermes, and a visitation from the god, unconcerned about the distinction of person that might be involved. 
It is such daemons of the gods that magicians seek to employ in practical magic.(more here) The magic of the Greco-Egyptian Papyri often explicitly invokes gods, asks them to send a daemon (or some daemons) and then commands those agents of the god by the borrowed power of the god. In this way one is not, in fact, claiming to command the mighty power that rules the (whatever) of the cosmos, but only their agent, specially selected for and by your magic to be in tune with you and your desire.
So, I feel as if I might define ‘prayer’ as an attempt to invoke and speak directly to the cosmic principle or higher being of a deity, and to entreat it through supplication (i.e. by asking for something). Magic, in turn, is an effort to bring an active agent of the divine near to the mortal world, and arrange to have them aid your goals. In practice this can be the daemon of a God, or a Landspirit, or one or more of the Mighty Dead. Note that in basic magical theory it is spirits who are closer to the mortal world, to the world of forms, who have power to act in our realm – far more so than the Great Abstractions that might lie at the top of an imagined Platonic ladder.
Prayer can be used as a technique of magic. Often it is a preparatory technique intended to attune the magician to those Great Abstractions and thus make us more suited to speak with the related spirits. As a practical spiritual tech for getting results I can see it being useful perhaps with deities with whom one has developed a long sacrificial relationship. However I can’t see prayer as the equivalent of practical magic, or imagine that it could have magic’s (still imperfect) reliability or effectiveness.


Friday, January 20, 2017

Conjure & Creation 2


So I've taken a little heat for my firm stand behind the 'spirit model' of magic in my previous post. As I said, my approach is a thought-experiment, a deliberate effort to think my way back into an animist mindset. As such I tend to speak affirmatively, even categorically. That's a rhetorical pose, and doesn't really reflect an opinion on my part that my ideas are 'more true' or 'better' than some other model.

Honestly I think myself mildly clever for devising a rationale that merges the modern notion of constructed entities with the notion of pre-existent spirits 'conjured' by a sorcerer. Like so many techniques the form of the work doesn't need to vary much per model. What we 'believe' about what is happening may be one of the least important parts of the business. Nevertheless I like to decorate the inside of my head with the ideas and mental postures of ancient magicians, and I'll take my best guess and apply it.


My intent in bringing up this topic was practical. I consider the 'servitor' technique one of the more valuable modern inventions, and it should/need not be abandoned by those attempting to work in the models of the ancient world. Jake Stratton-Kent is heard to say "Magic is practical eschatology". The merging of the spirits of the un-individuated Dead into that great continuum of shades, called "the Dead", roiling with the mixed passions of human memory becomes a kind of 'magical energy', able to respond to the will and word of magicians in much the same way as Levi's Astral Light might do, though perhaps with more volition.  It might even be, as some spirit-sects maintain, that the magical work of granting individual form and name to elements of this daemonic continuum is a service that living magicians do for the spirits - a fair exchange for their aid in our works.

Nevertheless, my intent here is practical, to provide this little set of suggestions as to what forms and symbols might be proper for what sort of spirits. I have ventured some ideas about classifying spirits according to an older set of 'elements'  and this list fits directly with those ideas. All questions of models aside there are so many creative and exciting ways to apply this sort of practical conjuring.


           

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Construct or Conjure?

So, I wanna go over the whole modern doctrine that human ‘belief’ and focused ideation can shape the ‘spiritual’ or ‘astral’ or ‘magical’ world. Especially, by extension mortals can create at least the simulacra of living spiritual beings, and possibly create spiritual individuals in fact. This doctrine has become almost an assumption in modern magic. While it is convenient, and solves a variety of theological problems, it also verges on what seems, to me, to be an unfortunate mechanicalism. We’ll get to this point, but let me say that I would prefer my spiritual universe not to be arranged as a machine. 

As I have moved away from the ‘energy model’ of magic and toward deliberate work with the spirits I have tried to reframe some of these classic magical techniques, perhaps restore them to a meaning prior to modern mechanization. This particular trope – the creation of an image and the ‘animation’ of it by magic – turns out to be easy to trace and recover.

To look for the origins of the idea, I think we must look to the facts of human spirit-vision experience. In spontaneous dreams, shamanic trance or initiatory vision-journey the mind generates an ‘imaginal-body’ with which to navigate the unconsciously-generated-or-perceived lands of vision. In dreams we note that powerful forces may be ‘dressed’ in the appearance of things and people drawn from our memory of life, and in spirit-vision such things happen as well.

The human power to shape matter – wood, stone, or clay – into representative shapes has surely been a core of magic since unremembered times. Humans made images of the spirits, and those material images must have arisen from imaginal forms, preserved verbally by transmission until they were expressed in more solid art. Those imaginal forms are not lost, but become a part of the work of formal and magical invocation. The Theurgists emphasize the importance of visualized ‘eidola’ (idols) of the gods, and the Tibetan ritual magicians have made a science of symbolic visualization of spirits. These practices fed into the line of occult revival and reconstruction that generated the Golden Dawn and the theurgic work of Mathers.

Following the Middle Ages, during which the spirit-model of magic was the standard, I think that we must look to Eliphas Levi’s concept of the ‘Astral Light’ for the root of our meme. Levi taught that the spiritual world closest to our own was made of indeterminate stuff that was and could be shaped by human passion and imagination. He called this the Astral Light, and taught that it was a level of causation immediately prior to our world, so that things shaped in the Light were likely to come into material existence. He proposed that control of the Light was the core of practical magic, and that has influenced magic ever since, all the way to the “power raising” of Neopagan group ritual spellcraft.

However that seems to me a significant departure from tradition, moving from working with spirits as living beings to working with an impersonal magical ‘stuff’. Historical magic most commonly works through the making of pacts with spirits, and the gaining of the personal authority that allows one to deal with them. How does this fit with the notion of the construction and animation of images?

In classical magic the use of “telesmatic images” involved the construction of forms based on the ‘sewing together’ of specific symbols based on the intent of the work. Thus if one wished to marry the forces of Venus and the Moon on might compose an image of a beautiful Green woman with the wings of a white butterfly, or the like. Such an image was described as able to ‘transmit the virtue’ of the planets involved. This notion of the ‘virtue’ of a planet or deity – it’s impersonal influence or ‘vibration’ is as close as I can see us coming to the idea of ‘magical energy’ in traditional magic. In other cases the harmonious nature of the symbols would be assumed to summon a spirit – a daemon – that conforms to the mixed nature of that formula, and is willing to appear in that shape.

Centuries later, the magicians of the Hermetic Order of the Golden dawn composed synthetic figures for their Kabalistic spirits, based on the Hebrew letters of their names. In this way a characteristic figure was created prior to the actual summoning of a spirit. That figure was understood to attract an already-extant spirit of the correct nature to answer the magician’s need.

A moment of theory: This notion of inventing composite inner or visualized idols for specific intentions is a direct parallel to doing the same thing in matter. To carve a spirit-idol in clay or wood makes an image into matter, the visualized image creates a middle-ground for the power. This is the basis of ‘hierarchical’ evocation – that a spirit is brought from its abstract origin-place through the middle-ground of vision and ritual, to abide like a flame in the material world. Thus the attention and power of the spirit itself is brought into material action for practical magic.

Back to the history of the idea, I believe that my own understanding of the idea of ‘construct elementals’ or ‘servitors’ began with 70s ‘ESP’ research. The 1972 ‘Phillip Experiment’ was big news to geeks like me tracking the still-credible science of ‘parapsychology’. Our puff-text asks “did the group accidentally summon a demonic or spiritual entity or did they create a real ghost?” I’d like to ask that too.

Occults texts of the early 70s including Paul Huson, Al Manning and Sybil Leek provided simple, ritualized methods for creating (or conjuring) a ‘construct familiar’, based on some physical token. The merging of the ‘construct entity’ idea with that of the witch’s familiar was instantaneous, and the ‘magical servitor’ became usual. Franz Bardon, and his classic “Initiation Into Hermetics” worked his detailed instruction in the use of magical energies into the idea of magical clockwork gnomes who could carry messages or spells. I feel it is important to mention the 1971 publication of Bonewits’ “Real Magic” in which a synthesis of parapsychology and traditional magic was presented that quite closely reflects modern opinion. He describes deities and spirits as living on the ‘energy’ given them by worshippers, and giving ‘energy’ back. It is, itself, all rather mechanistic and Isaac became more devotional as years went by, but I suspect his book of being an important influence at the opening of the 1970s. (Young folks should look up what a “switchboard” was ;).)

The idea passes directly into the minds of the founders of the Chaos Magick schools and related authors. It becomes central to their model of non-theistic occultism. It is now very popular among the self-constructed belief systems of internet magicians (bless us). The energy model is so unquestioned in the matter of ‘construct entities’; the magician creates a form in imagination, perhaps linking it to a material object, and then ‘ensouling it’… whatever that might mean. Many people seem to treat this approach as ‘proven science’ (i.e. obvious beliefs), though I think it falls well short of that standard.

This proposes, for me, a principle that might feel heretical to devotionalists and literalists, as well as to those who would make all magic about ‘energies’. It seems to me that, to a degree, pre-existing spirits will choose to inhabit an image and act in the theme of that image when it is in harmony with their own nature. In my metaphysical moments I think that, perhaps, spirits – despite having history and agency of their own - only assume names and forms when they come into relationship with mortals. Such names and forms may persist through human effort or through the preference of the spirit, and the world is full of spirits who do ‘go by’ a set of symbols, verbal or visual. We can conjure those, but the ancient magic shows us ways to conjure new spirits as well, learn new names, and even create new forms.

There is no such thing as ‘God’, in my opinion. No being ‘made’ us and thus no being has ownership of or sovereignty over us. Thus I am not inspired to imitate that notion by imagining that I can create a quasi-living spirit through imagination and will - a being which I can ‘command’ like a computer program or a machine, exploit at will, and destroy at the end of its utility.

This rejection of a modernist idea does not strip the magician of any useful power. Tradition provides several methods by which we can devise and specify what sort of small spirit, servant or emissary we desire. We can decide our intent, design a symbolic complex, and attract spirits that already exist to indwell our image and present us with a name and form. I think that when we call for a willing servant we often get one, though all the stories remind us that any spirit can turn contrary – even allegedly constructed ones.

As always for me the change from an energy paradigm of magic to a spirit-based paradigm is a change from the impersonal to the relational. I prefer a spiritual practice in which the love and honor between living beings is the core of the emotional work. This is not really possible when one approaches gods and spirits as ‘energies’ (especially if one thinks they are ‘just energies’). When we approach even a ‘hired’ ally such as an image-spirit as a living being, due it’s proper offering and thus proper respect, we choose a very different position of the heart. For those who care about such things, I might suggest that it helps put the ‘love’ into “Wisdom, Love & Power”.

Wednesday, November 30, 2016

A Spell of the Spirits

I have an ongoing project to develop simple modern practical magic methods that employ the spirits, rather than working with "magical energies". It's been a while...
This charm is intended to be an easy spell for practical magic rites, usable especially by those who have developed alliance relationships with specific operative spirts among the Gods, Dead and Landwights. For newcomers it might serve as a general calling to willing spirits, but it is surely better used by those with a developed group of allies.
Arrange the materials for your spell within the form of the conjuring circle as given here. Many enjoy drawing or inscribing the form of the circle on the floor or ground, but it can simply be used as a schematic for altar-top arrangements. Also arrange a small fire, and a small black bowl of water in the center of the figure. In the three circles arrange three small offerings of incense (a single cone for each works well), ready to light. With everything ready, bless the Water and Fire, saying:
The Fire, the Well, the Sacred Tree, flow and flame and grow in me
In Land, Sea and Sky, below and on high,
Let the Water be blessed and the Fire be hallowed!

Purify all, and perform any other preliminaries, then perform this preliminary convocation, lighting the three offerings for the Kindreds for the three verses . When concluded, proceed to work your spell, or even to simply describe your desires to the attendant spirits, closing with thanks.
So gather now, my spirits bright
Or shadowy, by day or night
By Fire’s light and Water’s dark
Come to me now – hear me, hark!

Come to my work, be by me seen
Up from earth and stone and green
Out from the cloud and wind and sea
Sun, moon and stars, all come down to me.

Come you forth from the House of Clay
From the Court of Death to the world of day
Mighty Dead, forebearers all
Heart and blood, come to my call

The Shining Ones, their power divine
I drink their blessing, make it mine
Strengthen my mind, my heart, my hand
In Sea or Sky, and on the Land

You who are my allies true
Come to me now, I call to you
Gods and Dead, and spirits all
Hear me, hark; come to my call

Magic I make now, three times three
Spirits I call you, come to me.
Beneath the Sky, on Land or Sea
Hear my spell, and make it be!


Wednesday, January 7, 2015

The Court of the Dagda; First Working

One of the primary inspirations for this blog was the blogging of a cadre of East Coast magicians that included Jason Miller and Rufus Opus. They were determined to do tight magical work seeking real goals and to submit their journaling to mutual review in blog format. While I have used this vehicle to blather on about a variety of things I am always happy when I have some real occult news. Have I said 'Happy New year' yet? Well happy New Year!


On the full moon of January, 2015 my priestess-wife and I undertook the next in a series of spirit-arte rites based on the patterns devised for my Book of Summoning. The working was successful on it’s basic level, opening the way for new work with the Gaelic gods and spirits.

Readers here will know that I have been working for some while to apply the methods of European magical spirit-arte, as preserved in the medieval manuals often called grimoires. In these rites my goal is to evoke to local presence specific servitor spirits (i.e. members of the deity’s ‘court’ or ‘retinue’) who are willing to ally with the magician for future magical work. The first formal and public application of my efforts was in the Court of Brigid workings. In what I now consider an ass-backward style I introduced that work as a daring (or foolish) public festival rite in the summer of 2012, followed by a personal intensive at home, and further work in spellbinding with those spirits. It has all been fairly well-journalled here, in reverse Chronological order. The complete account and scripts for the Court of Brigid work are also available here

The Red God
I have been slowly devising a suite of rituals using the same format, focused on the Gaelic deity the Dagda. The Dagda (whose name means “Good God” in the sense of “good at everything”… “Yeah, I’m good for that…”) is one of the Three Kings of the Tuatha De Danann, the literary remnant of the Irish gods preserved in the Book of Invasions. He is called the Druid of the Gods, and Ruadh Rofhessa – the Red One of Secret Knowledge. If you know just one tale of this god, it probably includes the image of him striding across the land, belly distended with porridge, godly dick dragging below his tunic. This may be monkish ribaldry, or a reference to Himself in his fertility aspect. However in my work it has been that Lord of Wisdom, Druid of the Gods figure that has been the central focus. In that figure I also consider the Dagda to be the priest of the Sacred Fire, and thus a key figure in the mysteries of Druidry.

I have chosen to vaguely imitate certain western magic hierarchic ideas, especially the notion of ‘Chief Ministers’, or ‘Captains’ of the spirits who serve the god. Thus the mechanics of the rite involve first invoking the god of the rite in some detail, and abiding in that god’s presence. The god is then asked to send his ‘Chieftains’ – these are understood as more specifically realized persons… daimons of the god, certainly, who embody more specific powers. One might associate this level with ‘archangels’ in a more Hermetic hierarchy, but I do not draw that link too tightly. I remain unconvinced of the necessity of this step for the goal of summoning useful courtiers. However the results of the work with these figures in the Court of Brigid have been continuing, and so I duplicated it in the Dagda suite.
 
The Three Chieftains invoked (not evoked) during the rite were the Harp, the Club, and the Cauldron. The Dagda possesses several mighty magical implements, including the harp called “Four Cornered Music”, which is said to turn the wheel of the seasons; the War-Club that slays with one end and restores life with the other; and the Never-Dry Cauldron, a feasting vessel that serves everyone their favorite food. These symbols/tools were chosen to represent the Three Chieftains of the Dagda’s Court, and display is tri-functional nature. The Harp is the power of the Poet/Mage, the ‘first function’ in an Indo-European analysis. The Club is the Warrior (second function) power, and the Cauldron of Feasting represents the third-function Wealth-Producers and their delightful bounty.  So we would invoke the Chieftains as the Harp, Club and Cauldron, using several poetic names and references from lore.

Re-riting
As I said, we began the Court of Brigid work with a big group rite that involved invocation of the primary deity and of the Ministers of that deity, and then the evocation of specific spirits. From these specific spirits we receive forms, names, the abilities they bring and what offering they would prefer. This amounted to rather a big rite, especially in a gathering environment.


When L. and I decided to recreate the work at home, we divided the original rite into a suite of three workings. The first rite was/is an ‘Audience’ with the primary god, in which detailed offerings are given and a very specific series of blessings sought. The second rite was effectively an evocation of the Three Ministers, and the third was the evocation of courtiers. We performed the Court of Brigid triad over three weekend days, a very satisfactory method.

However…

Our schedule for the weekend of the January Full Moon simply didn’t leave the time open for the three-rite suite, which I had actually written and typeset some months previously. In a fit of determination we contemplated various configurations. We had performed a full Audience rite to the Dagda three times over the past year, at events and at home. We considered jumping in at the Three Chieftains point, considered trying to fit two full rituals into the time we had. IN the end our choice was to do the whole deal; we would make the full round of offerings to the god from the Audience, do the full vision-presence of the Chieftains (though not the evocation of those beings), and then call for allies from his Court. We would do this all in a single marathon-ish rite. I prepped prompts for the more detailed invocations.

The Working
I gotta tell ya, our choice led to the assembling of a lot of offerings. The initial Audience required nine specific items, then small things for the Chieftains and a few more for the rest. You can see in the photos just how much stuff is involved. Of course we were doing this rite indoors, with a minimal token fire, so stick incense replaced oil offerings in the Fire, and most things were given into a large offering-bowl.


We set ourselves and ambitious goal to be ready, and missed it by an hour. That meant we lit the fire just as the sun was setting, so that was proper. It required about three hours to assemble all the items from our stash of stones, silver, herbs and spell-components. Fortunately that stash is pretty deep these days. Being a vegetarian house we had to buy the pork, and the Big Man was given bacon, which cannot be argued with. While we gave ourselves little time for formal pre-ritual prayers and prep, the work of assembling the rite served in its own way.

The rite was framed in a full “High Day’-style ritual order, which L and I can walk into handily, and expect our awareness to alter into the proper states. While this rite is as complex as anything we’ve done for the public, we didn’t have to worry about successful trance induction. The work L and I had done in my Nine Moons  training serves us in our ongoing work.

Invocations
Having performed the Audience rite several times, the primary invocation of the Dagda was familiar and powerful, producing a clear presence for me. At each stage of the work we paused for a time to abide in the presence of the spirits. To me the power of Dagda as the Lord of Wisdom has become very clear, in contrast to the fertility-buffoon persona that is so often described.

The invocations of the Three Chieftains included a deliberate visualization of the stylized form of each, with an invocation and offering. An Irish-language mantra or conjure-charm accompanied each call. Again, we chose not to evoke specific daimons of these powers. In retrospect I want to go back and catch that up. However the effect for me was very juicy; very somatic, energetic and fiery. This is the first time I’ve done an encounter with a warrior entity this close, and I found the Club-Chieftain fascinating; more exploration to come. Certainly I have spent more time with the priestly and feastly aspects of the Big Man.

It is the immediate feeling of power and presence that this “ministers” phase produces that convinces me of its value. It has only a tenuous relationship to Northern tradition, though hierarchy was the norm among such tribes. The increased sense of local presence that this stage of invocation produced was notable and valuable, and made the next and final step feel entirely within reach.

We treated both the Dagda Himself and the Three Chieftains as the ‘Beings of the occasion. We concluded our invocations and offerings to them, and made a final Prayer of sacrifice, and drew an omen with the ogham lots.

Our initial intention was to draw a single lot for the omen. However we received Eamhancoll, which we considered rather equivocal, so we proceeded to draw two more letters. Those were Óir and Idad and so we took the omen as good, and proceeded. On a review of the previous Dagda rite journals I discovered that Eamhancoll was part of the omen at the very first Dagda Audience rite, so I take that as a Good Thing as well.

Evocations
In the two public Court of Brigid rites L. and I were the magisters, and the attending circle acted as the seers, mostly on a one-spirit-per-seer basis. As magisters we were busy managing the interactions, making offerings, writing down the details, etc. We did no formal receiving of spirit-data ourselves.

In the private CoB working we had decided to personally evoke spirits that had presented themselves at the two public rites. We divined a short list of six, and called them to the Fire. Once again, we did no ‘prospecting’ in the manner of the initial rites. This time, as we approached the final phase of the long working, we intended to do just that.

The rite we use takes a great deal of trouble to deepen trance, focus attention and grant permission to see and understand the spirits. We had spent some time in silent abiding, first with the Dagda himself and then with the convoked Chieftains, so even as we manipulated all the little bowls our trance level remained deep. The final deepening of the rite is the blessing of the Return Flow vessel with herbs, silver and crystal, and the anointing of the seers’ eyes with that blessing.

This time I used a formal ‘Seer’s Frame’, a symbolic locale in which I expected the spirit to appear. The chosen symbol is a ‘triangle of manifestation, empowered with the ogham letters for Oak, Hazel and Rowan. Conjuring the triangle was another juicy, trance-supportive moment.

Once the Big Conjuration was made, the impression of a crowd of waiting spirits was strong for both of us. The “Oath” section requires spirits to stay or go according to their willingness to sweat the oath, and we thought that only a few of the initial crowd left at the prompt. We then set to the business of calling individual spirits.

We had decided to alternate, one of us seeing while the other wrote down the details, then trading off. This worked well enough, with a small charm in Irish setting each turn in frame. For me, the early appearances were snappy and clear, while the last couple took more time for a form to resolve. We had set ourselves a limit of nine spirits, and ended up with seven. I must admit that by the end of the two-hour ritual and trancework my knees were stiff and I was both physically and mentally ready to wrap ‘er up.

I hope you will forgive me for not immediately listing the seven Courtiers who answered us. The CoB lists were the result of joint group effort, while this was our personal work. I will probably make them (more) public, but not until some further processing.

This working was not, in itself, a practical magic rite – the result we were looking for was the spirit-contact, and that we achieved. The next step is to test and employ those spirits, as we have done with Brigid’s Court. Watch this space for some practical-magic models and suggestions.

After a final time of abiding in the vision and presence of the whole array of spirits we closed in an orderly way, with the ‘License to Depart’ to the Courtiers, and thanks to all the Holy Beings. We picked up the dishes and vessels, and finally had our dinner, grounding in quiet for a while. The big bowl of mixed offerings we set in a side room overnight. The next morning it was delivered to our new Nemeton on the hill, and dumped into the Offering Shaft (which was full to the top with winter rain).

Our intention is for this to be the beginning of a new round of esoteric work around here. We must take advantage of the winter, indoor season. We approach Imbolc, the High Day of both Brigid and the Dagda in our local cult. I feel that we are more prepared than ever to give and get that blessing. May it be upon you as well, as we await the spring.

Thursday, April 3, 2014

Demons & Daemons

Animism & Dualism

I've seen some discussion in Blog-land this week on the topic of ‘daemons’, and on how that relates to the idea of ‘demons’. I find the Hellenic category daemon to be a useful way of understanding the general category of ‘spirits’ in a Pagan sense. I've written a bit on the topic already, here.


In that sense, I understand Hellenic ‘daimons’ (or daemons – I probably won’t be consistent) to be spirits of almost every type, up to and including the Olympians themselves and down to the smallest pool-sprite or Cloacinian imp. In Hellenic religion these were understood as servants, messengers or persons of the gods, or as active on their own. Members of the mortal Dead might become daimons. One important function of daemones was to carry sacrifices to the gods themselves, and to return with their blessing. These spirits became associated with the rites and tools of domestic and civic cults – the ‘familiars’ of the sacrificers, the ‘genii’ – which means, at base, ‘family spirits’.
In the Hellenic sense a satyr is a daimon, if not a very noble
one. The depiction of daemones with animals characteristics,
including wings and/or horns, is quite traditional;.

In any animist or spiritist system it will be plain that not all spirits are safe, easy or friendly. The Greeks distinguished between eudaimones and kakodaimones – ‘pretty’ spirits and ‘shitty’ spirits, rather literally. Yes, Virginia, there are fairies in the dung… The spirits of rot and decay, so mandatory for the management of a forest floor, become less welcome in human habitation. If there is a daimon in the waterfall, or in the corn, there is surely one in cholera or crib-death as well. Some parts of lovely and holy nature will just plain kill yer butt – the spirits of those parts are often thought of as ‘wrathful’ or even as ‘demons’ in the Hollywood sense. In traditional cultures it is often the task of priests and magicians to manage them.

Then there is the issue of moral dualism. I do not believe that there is a spiritual battle between Good and Evil. The spirits are not lining up into skins versus… other people’s skins… Just like mortals, the spirits go about their business- waterfalls fall water, cholera eats and kills, etc. It does make simple sense for mortals to divide our categories between spirits who benefit us and spirits who might harm us. We do as much with animals, plants and landscapes. However many dangerous, powerful things make good allies, even gods.


Which brings us to operative magic in a traditional European model. The usual powering agencies behind the magic of the Greek Papyri are the daemones, whether of the gods invoked in the rite, or sometimes in general, and sometimes as categories of the Dead. These spirits are tasked with the usual goals of love-spells, revenge, legal cases and sports-betting.

As the Hellenic moral sense became more restrictive (or refined, as you like) theorists began to assert that some daemones became ‘base’ in their desires and inclinations. They hung around boxing-matches, low sport and Underworld sacrifices. As they became base so the mortals they influenced became more inclined to vicious behavior. These spirits became the servants of low sorcerers, essentially thug-spooks for hire. This was not all so much based upon a matter of ‘sin’ as it was on the idea that wallowing in dung makes one stink. (Back to kakodaemones…). Magicians (especially theurgists) proposed that virtuous living supported contact with wiser, calmer, spirits long before Christian dualism developed its spirit hierarchies.

I remain interested in how the Book of Enoch’s notion of ‘fallen angels’ got wrapped up in all of this. Of course we see there the same pattern – divine beings attracted by earthly delights. The separation of the spiritual from the material seems to have been trending in 1 ce or so. One Hellenic notion of the origin of the daemones is that they are the souls of the humans of the Golden Age, ennobled by the gods to act as guardians and aids for mortals. Throw in the jealousy of the God of Sinai, and those noble spirits, children of the first days, become rebellious angels. To the Hellenes and other Indo-European Pagans, the siring of children by mighty spirits with mortal women was neither improper nor unclean. The spirits of such children often became mighty daimones.

As the classical era ends, Paganism slowly becomes illegal in the Roman Empire. Pagan rites are transferred from the public temples to private chapels and living-rooms. In these reduced circumstances we may have the beginnings of ‘high magic’, and certainly of later theurgy. It is from rites of this sort combined with the low magic of the Greek Papyri that the magic of the grimoires is thought to spring, long and winding though the trail from 700 to 1700 may be.

As Christian myth and spiritology became the norm among scholastics (and so among magicians) the baser daemons were reckoned part of the Enemy’s legions and called ‘demons’, while better daemons were assigned to heavenly quires to become ‘angels’ – messengers – of ‘God’. The whole War In Heaven myth is applied, God’s Kingdom opposed to the World, the Flesh and the Devil. The material world being part of the unholy triad of primal Christian thought any spirit not immediately part of the angelic hosts was a ‘demon’ – a subject of the Prince of This World. So elementals, ‘fairies’ even the worldly end of the spiritual hierarchy were considered ‘demons', i.e. fallen angels and/or servants of 'Satan'.

Among magicians, who were always influenced by but other than orthodoxy, the spiritual hierarchy of, say, any given planet began at an archangel (or a ‘god’ in earlier and later material), descending through layers of servitor spirits. The very lowest layer of those servitor spirits – the actual workers of the magician’s team – were often called ‘demons’. In one of the classical model of spirit-arte demons are commanded by the magician through the agency of the names of the proper angels. In this way the sovereignty of the system’s ‘God’ is preserved, while putting power into the magician’s hands.

We arrive at the era of the famous grimoires with lists of spirits that are known to serve magicians. Some of them seem to be reflections of specific ancient gods, others are more obscure. Some actually do things like slay and coerce, but many create gardens or teach mathematics. If one reads the list of ‘demons’ in, e.g. the Goetia of the Lesser Key one hardly gets the impression of seething evil, disease and revolt. My favorite mythic-style guess is that those spirits began as daemons serving the Gods at the sacrifices, and continued to answer the calls of magicians over the centuries. After all, some sources say that spirits change their names every 40 years…

For many modern magicians approaching the daemones by the names remembered in the early-modern grimoires is a matter of practicality and mechanics. Most grimoire rites involve no diabolism, no worship of Christian mythic figures such as Satan and Lucifer. Rather the piety and focus of the magician allow him to deal with the spirits. The very latest revisions have added a respectful relationship of alliance with these daemones, which seems reasonable to me.

My own opinion is that we can safely discard the whole separation of spirits into ‘angels and demons’. If one prefers to consider spirits who function specifically as ‘messengers’ of a god to be angels, that’s linguistically sensible. There isn’t really much use for ‘demon’ unless one uses it as shorthand for ‘wrathful, dangerous or predatory spirit’. I didn’t mention the idea of spirits who deliberately set themselves against humankind as our enemies, because I’m unsure that such things exist. Of course madness and malice might occur in all classes of intelligent beings, one must assume.


Once again the depiction of daemons (or
'demons' of the later grimoires) is often as
chimeras - a combination of multiple animal
and/or human elements.
To address the question of 'dangers', I can begin by dismissing the idea of there being a danger to my 'salvation' by dismissing the need for salvation. I ain't in that. Most dangers of dealing with the spirits remembered as grimoire demons seem to be the same as dealing with any powerful spirit - to insult or ll-use the spirit can result in a wrathful response. I reject the notion that there is a kind of spirit that makes its business to mislead or destroy humans, and I especially reject the idea that such spirits (should I be wrong about them existing) would brave the protection of magicians to pretend to serve mortals. Since I do not believe there are two opposing moral teams in the spirit-world I don't think there's a danger of choosing the wrong team. 

The original Hellenic analysis may have some merit. Success in human life depends on the cultivation of certain social virtues - moderation, communality, honesty. Nature does not share these virtues widely, and many spirits do not, either. Many noble and useful spirits are no more concerned with human morality than is a plow-horse. The magician is advised, wisely, so work rites that attract spirits of wisdom and sense. Again, if one reads Solomon's Goetia many of those spirits seem to fit the bill. The discernment of early-modern spiritology seems, from my perspective, to have been badly clouded by the 'angels and demons' mythology of the day.

As someone concerned with Celtic and Germanic magic I have no real resonance with the spirit-lists of the early-modern grimoires. I gave some thought to attempting to work with them inside our Druidic fire-sacrifice ritual form. In the end I took the route of prospecting for new spirits. I have no dog in the fight over whether the spirits of the Lesser Key (or of other goetic grimoires) are more dangerous than useful. However, useful things are often dangerous, and I would never advise magicians to play things entirely safe.