Journey Through The Obsidian Dream

Continuing Experiments: Sigils, Talismans, and the Stele of Jeu

Satyr Magos17/05/2012

While I haven’t had much time to write clever blog posts since finals week started gearing up (then ended, with all the unanticipated post-semester and graduation-related madness), I have managed to make time to actually do the magic. I have performed the Stele of Jeu twice, fired off a shoal of sexy sigils, and made two new talismans based on what I learned of talisman-making from the Jupiter Election.

the Stele of Jeu

The Stele of Jeu the Hieroglyphist is becoming an increasingly integral part of my practice. Interestingly, though, the more often I perform it the more subtle the effects seem to be. I performed the rite at the last Dark Moon, on the Day and Hour of the Sun, and as a part of my Beltane celebrations in the woods behind my school.

In the first case—as seems to often happen—I was struck by the sense that something was watching me as I performed my rite. That sensation faded, though, as I performed the ritual. By half way through, actually, it had faded to the point where I decided to try out something I’d read somewhere and repeated the central portion of the ritual until I got the feeling of rising power:

Holy Headless One, deliver him, NN, from the daimon which restrains him, / ῥουρβριαω μαρι ὠδαμ βααβναβαωθ ασς ἀδωναι ἀφνιαω ἰθωληθ ἀβρασαξ ἀηωωυ / mighty Headless One, deliver him, NN, from the daimon which restrains him. / μαβαρραιω ἰοηλ κοθα ἀθορηβαλω ἀβραωθ / deliver him, NN ἀωθ ἀβραωθ βασυμ ἰσακ σαβαωθ ιαω

That definitely had an effect, though I would be hard pressed to actually describe what it was. I sat in the salt circle and meditated for a while, basking in the magical afterglow.

I performed the ritual again at Beltane, under the nearly-full moon. My outdoor festivities with Sannafrid were actually a couple days late, on account of the rain on the 1st and 2nd. Being in the woods, I skipped the salt circle—salting the earth is not my idea of a good time. On the one hand, the effects were much less profound than I had hoped/feared/anticipated; on the other hand, they were very interesting. The woods suddenly felt more alive. Sannafrid and I could sense spirits everywhere—not like I had conjured them, but more as if I had suddenly tuned in to the layer of reality where they already lived.

I think they were just the spirits of the wood, and while they may or may not have been aware of our presence, I honestly don’t think they could have cared less. It was a very powerful experience, if just a little surreal. I think that’s an important lesson for all magicians, but for witches and nature-worshipers in particular: to keep in mind that most of the spirit world, like most of the natural world, doesn’t care one way or the other about humans. We’re doing our thing; they’re doing theirs.

a Sigil Shoal for More and Better Sex

The way I count the Moons, the third day of the Dark Moon is also the first day of the waxing phase. After performing the stele of Jeu, once the hour had passed from Sun to Venus, I fired off a shoal of sigils for more and better sex. The effects of this shoal were even more awesome—and, importantly, longer lasting—than the first one. The shoal included five sigils (the specific phrasing of which is apparently in the stack of notes that didn’t make it back to Kansas City with me), all aimed at improving my sex life. The majority of the sigils were aimed helping my body keep up with my libido—and, more importantly, with Sannafrid’s.

The results were fucking spectacular. (Yeah, I went there. How could I resist?) At risk of crossing into the realm of Way Too Much Information: not only was I able to manage 2-3 times in a day (a little difficult at 31 on a mediocre diet), I was able to keep that up almost every day for a ten day stretch of the two-and-a-half weeks between when I fired the sigils and when they faded about a week ago.

So … waxing Moon, day of the Sun, hour of Venus is damn good astrological timing for sex magic. I would have thought the Full Moon, day and hour of Venus would have been as good … but it was also the 3rd day of the Full, so technically a waning Moon, which may have had an impact. Further confounding factors here include the sigils themselves, the way they were phrased, single versus shoal, and the fact that I was still tingling from the Stele of Jeu.

a Talisman of Venus

Anticipating Venus’ recent retrograde movement, I made a talisman of Venus based on the Jupiter Talisman I made at the recent election. I used Christopher Warnock’s Venus image on one side (I really need to buy his Picatrix translation and star producing my own images based on the descriptions); the Agrippan characters of Venus, my Glyph of the Moon, and a pair of sigils (empowering myself with the Favor of Kings) on the other. I performed the rite at the Day and Hour of Venus, using a slightly altered version of the Orphic Hymn to Venus—I added a line at the end asking to be endowed with the Favor of Kings—burning incense of my own making, and anointing the talisman with Abramelin oil—and using the various Venusian symbols I keep on my altar rather than a formal Triangle of Art. For a more general Venusian boost, I also took a bit of my Venusian incense and started an infusion like I do for my essential oil production. I left both projects on my altar to marinade essentially until I packed everything up for the trip.

My understanding is that, so close to the retrograde, even the otherwise auspicious arrangement of planetary forces on that Day and Hour of Venus with a waxing Moon was less than ideal. Still, I felt that it would be a good idea to shore up Venusian in my sphere given the complexity of my love life at the moment (that’s a post in and of itself, and one which is particularly delicate since all parties involved read the blog. I’m glad that I did: the talisman and the infusion-in-the-making are both radiating good, clean, Venusian power.

Safe-Travel Talismans

My final magical project in the Sunrise Temple, before leaving for the summer, was to produce safe-travel talismans for Sannafrid and myself. She is spending the month in China as part of an ethnography program through our school—a sort of “victory lap”, as they call it here. I was going to be making a drive across three states with a number of the things most dear to me in my back seat.

Using essentially the same methodology as I did for my Jupiter and Venus talismans, I made a pair of Mercury talismans for Sannafrid and myself. The most interesting differences between the rites was that these were made at the day and hour of Mercury, outside in the woods during our Beltane celebrations, and that I used a lock of her hair mixed in with the Mercury blend between the two sheets of cardstock and had her write her own Names to create the link to her, where I used my Glyph of the Moon for my own talisman.

The results were again spectacular. If I do say so, myself, I’m getting pretty good at making paper talismans. I’m looking forward to teaching myself some metal-etching skills so that I can use similar techniques in more permanent mediums.

In witchcraft

Sweet Home Kansas City

Satyr Magos16/05/2012

I left my temple in Sunrise, IN in the late afternoon exactly a week ago today. The semester is over, I never found work there, and I have both a job and a lover waiting for me here in Kansas City. The drive is 10 hours after the inevitable traffic and construction delays, so I decided to break the mind -crushing monotony with pit stops to visit friends in Bloomington and St.Louis on the way.

Bloomington is a nice place, and if any of you have the misfortune to pass through Indiana, I recommend stopping there if it’s not too far out of your way.

St. Louis, as long-time readers may recall, was briefly my home. I moved there in August of 2k6 to escape the rut I had dug for myself in hometown Kansas, and while I definitely had some good times there … the city basically chewed me up over the course of 15 months and spat me back out. I’ve been back a few times, but not as well-rested as I was this time. So when I hit town I was surprised to realize just how much of myself was still invested there: it was very much still “home”. Although I had deliberately left the tendrils of my Web of Influence there, I hadn’t really imagined—after three and a half years in Kansas City and most of a year in Indiana—that they would have stayed in place so long and well. I was tapped back into that web as soon as I crossed I-70 over the Mississippi River.

When I hit Kansas City, the experience was very similar … only magnified tenfold. I settled back into the rhythm of Kansas City traffic almost effortlessly, and when I passed from the suburbs into the city proper, I found myself tapped back in to a base of power I’d almost forgotten that I had. Yea gods, what a rush. I’d had no idea that I’d left so much of myself behind.

So far, I’ve had no reason and little opportunity to actually perform any magic, besides resuming my daily rites. But I’m looking forward to this Sunday’s eclipse and next week’s Moon election. Because I think they’re going to be incredible. Back in spaces I know this well, so close to Lawrence and Camp Gaea, where my web of power is rooted, and with the people I’ve worked the most and some of the most significant magic of my life …

It’s going to be amazeballs.

I love my life.

In witchcraft

New Thoughts on Initiation

Satyr Magos02/05/2012

Coming from my background in eclectic Wicca, the word “initiation” has certain connotations—first of group identification, and then of hierarchal advancement within the group into which one was initiated. Skill and experience were supposed to be equivalent with rank, and in many groups I’m sure they are; one knows, however, that in others—groups more closely aligned with the Masonic traditions from which the initiatory degrees arose, perhaps—access to information was and is restricted to initiatory rank. Whether or not that’s a functional system for some people is beside the point: I never wanted anything to do with it, and it’s one of the reasons I never pursued membership in a coven or lodge more vigorously. Alternatively, Christopher Penczak and some other eclectic Wiccan writers discuss initiation in slightly different terms. They speak of initiations as recognizing progress made, or the formal beginning of a period of intense work or study. It was in these senses that I underwent my own initiation, almost two years ago, and it is in this sense that I am planning to undergo my next at Samhain, assuming that my experiments continue proceeding according to plan.

Since entering into my study of the Western Ceremonial tradition, however—particularly post-Golden Dawn and post-Chaos Hermeticism—I increasingly find the word “initiation” used in radically different ways. Rufus Opus, for example, has frequently spoken of his Gates Rites, which he performs regularly, as initiatory experiences. I was recently linked to another gentleman discussing his elemental initiations.

This use of “initiation” seems to convey a sense of immersion in the elemental or planetary force being summoned, and/or of opening (or maintaining) a channel of that force into one’s “personal sphere”. This is a fascinating concept to me, and one which is probably not as revolutionary as it seems: going directly to the Powers of Elemental Fire for instruction in the nature and use of Fire; going directly to the Powers of Planetary Venus for instruction in the nature and use of her energies. Or maybe it is revolutionary. I don’t know enough about Medieval or Renaissance thought to even guess, and even within my own specialties of Classical Studies and modern Neo-Pagan witchcraft, it’s hard to say sometimes.

Whether or not the idea is new or not is beside the point. It’s one that I’m definitely going to have to experiment with, and which may find it’s way into my personal practice. Hell, in a sense I’ve already started: I’ve undergone Earth, Water, and Fire initiations (though they weren’t quite framed the same way) as part of my Penczak-based work (Outer Temple and Temple of High Magic), and begun the process of Earth/Malkuth and Moon/Yesod initiations. I did all these through visionary work rather than evocation, and I think I will finish out the full set of four elements and seven planets before I do evocation-based initiations.

And then … what happens when I start experimenting with the signs of the Zodiac as sources of power?

In art, scholarship, witchcraft

Let’s Get to Work

Satyr Magos27/04/2012

I think many of you know that Beltane is also International Workers Day.

Here are a few links for your perusal with that in mind:

Gordon: Occupy as a Phased Enchantment … Too bad I wasn’t ready for this shit then.

Cut-out 3-D Occupy Mask

Cut-out 2-D Occupy Mask

Planetary forces aren’t the only streams out there: More Occupy Wall Street Art for May Day Talisman Action

Two months ago I planned to have a whole fancy post with sigils and glyphs so we could work together on this a little more closely. That didn’t happen.

In witchcraft

Beltane Altar 2012

Satyr Magos26/04/2012

It’s officially Beltane. My altar isn’t very fancy this season—I don’t really have any appropriate gewgaws or money with which to acquire them, and I sort of have this pervasive fear that if I go too far out with Beltane I’ll wind up with an unexpectedly pregnant partner—but it’s actually been up for a couple weeks.

Having given up on the Golden Dawn flavored ceremonialism of Penczak’s High Temple altogether, I’ve also rearranged my altar surface just a little. One more it reflects my utter disinterest in maintaining the traditional elemental quarters over working with the space I actually have. The offering bowl is a new addition, reflecting how integral a part of my practice that’s becoming; to the left you can see my box-of-active-sigils, and catch a peak of the Jupiter talisman on the shelf above it.

For the first time in my academic career, Beltane falls after my finals rather than before or in the midst of, so I will actually be celebrating on Tuesday night. For those who will be doing the “weekend before” celebration, however, I wanted to share a tradition Aradia and I started last year and which I will be continuing with this year: “Fuck You Beltane”.

I have traditionally used Samhain/my birthday to mark my personal “New Year”, but as a full-time student … well, post-finals celebrations of Beltane is really much more of a stopping point. And while I’m not hip-deep in shit like I was this time last year, but there’s still a lot of lingering angst and madness that I’d like to be rid of before I start the next cycle of my magical year.

So here’s a ritual suggestion for those of you who, like me, are in need of a bit of a purge. Get yourself some whole cloves and a mortar and pestle. Build a bonfire. Pound the clove to powder, chanting the names of those people/things you wished to be purged of, and throw the dust into the fire yelling “Fuck you (whoever/whatever)!” Simple, but cathartic and effective.

Then drink. And dance. And celebrate the other kind of fucking, if that’s your speed. (Y’all know it’s mine.)

[Edited for idiot typos.]

In scholarship

Dionysus Miscellanea

Satyr Magos25/04/2012

Hey, folks, it’s the end of the semester. While I’m buy writing papers for the next few days, I may not get another chance to post. In the meantime, check out some of the fun facts I that my research turned up but which I couldn’t work into my paper on the cult of Dionysus in Hellenistic Greece and the Roman Republic:

* Although most often described as the son of the mortal princess Semele, Dionysos is also said to be the son of Persephone, a relationship which explains his cthonic attributes (Burkert 1985.294) Those familiar with Orphic mythology already know this.

* The thyrsos wand, associated with Bacchic worship, may—according to Burkert—draw its name from association “with a god attested in Ugarit, tirsu, intoxicating drink, or alternatively with the Late Hittite tuwarsa, vine…”, and that the very name Bacchus may be drawn from a Semitic word for wailing, drawing a parallel with the wailing over the death of the Mesopotamian god Tammuz. (Burkert 1985 p.163)

* Dionysus shares the thyrsos wand with Artemis—the only other deity to use the wand in their rites. (Burkert 1985 p.223)

* Dionysus may have been depicted on herms, either as himself or synchretised with Hermes (Burkert 1985 p.222)

* Prefiguring later synchretisms, the worship of Dionysus was influenced by the cult of Osiris as early as 660 BCE (Burkert 1985 p.163), an association later affirmed by both Herodotus and Plutarch, the latter of whom also equated Dionysus with Serapis. (Martin 1987.91)

——-

Burkert, Walter. Greek Religion. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1985.

Martin, Luther H. Hellenistic Religions: An Introduction. New York: Oxford University Press, 1987.

In witchcraft

Working the Jupiter Election

Satyr Magos23/04/2012

I think most of you know that there was a badass astrological opportunity last Thursday. It was my privilege to be able to take advantage of both the morning and afternoon openings.

As is my custom on Thursdays, I got up before dawn. Rather than go to the cafeteria, however, I made myself breakfast at home while readying my space. I cast my circle at the crack of dawn and the beginning of the Hour of Jupiter, and by the time I was done consecrating my space* and preparing a Jupiter incense of dandelion, clove, sage, and nutmeg, the election was upon me. Due to a shortage of resources, I printed a paper talisman across two sheets of paper. One side bore the Jupiter image provided by the generosity of Christopher Warnock, the other bore my Glyph of the Moon and a pair of glyphs representing my intention: bestowing myself with the Favor of Kings; in between, I scribed my birth and magical names on the reverse sides of the sheets, sprinkled the same herbs I used for incense and a drop of Abramelin oil, then glued the sheets together. I blessed the talisman with the Picatrix Jupiter invocation Mr. Warnock provided with the image, anointed the image deliberately with more Abramelin oil and inadvertently with wax from the candle I had dedicated to the purpose.

That done, I left the image and the burning candle on my altar as I dashed off to Yoga, a second breakfast, Ancient Greek class, and lunch. Those “mundane” tasks out of the way, I returned home for the second election.

Here in the Midwest, the afternoon election was infringed by some minor Lunar affliction that no one really got into and which I couldn’t identify on my astrological software. Good enough, Mr. Warnock said, but not as good as the morning timing. So I chose something much more targeted and immediate than the talisman construction: a direct appeal for aid in my meeting with the Registrar, which would come almost immediately after the election ended. I sigilized my desire using the Kamea of Jupter, performed another invocation and lit another candle, and went off to meet with the registrar.

To make an otherwise uninteresting story short: the registrar agreed to take all my transfer credits without further complaint, won the lottery for the weaving class (which “never happens” on your first try), begged for and received an extension on the ancient history paper (formerly) due tomorrow, and this afternoon’s meeting with the Financial Aid office took less than thirty seconds to sort out a paperwork issue. When I descended to my Inner Temple over the Dark Moon, the Favor of Kings glyphs were glowing on the walls.

So far it looks like the Jupiter rituals (including the previous sigils) have worked, and worked beautifully.

*Tuning it, more accurately. “Consecrating” implies that there was something unsacred about it before I got there, and I don’t truck with that fallen world theological bullshit. But that’s a series of posts for another day. In the meantime, see Phil Hine.

In scholarship, witchcraft

Shaman: My Uncomfortable Relationship With a Problematic Word

Satyr Magos20/04/2012

[This one gets a little rambly.]

These last weeks have seen a bit of traffic on a subject near and dear to my heart:the relationship between modern neo-Pagan animism and magic, cultural appropriation, and the word and figure of the “shaman”. It “began”—so to speak; I don’t know that any of the authors read one another—with Alison Leigh Lilly and an interesting vision of where a combination of steampunk aesthetic and neo-Pagan praxis might lead (and the follow-up). Next were Lupa Greenwolf’s posts (one and two) on her own discomfort with, first the word, and then the militant and un-self-critical reaction to her use of it. Finally, VVF weighs in heavily but thoughtfully on the other side of the issue.

This is an issue that I, too, struggle with. I since first being introduced to shamanic visionary techniques by a friend in St. Louis—fortunately, after I became at least tangentially aware of issues of cultural appropriation—I have always avoided the title “shaman”. I don’t come from a culture that awards that title. Actually, strictly speaking, no culture does: “shaman” is a bastardized Anglicization of the Siberian word “saman”. It was adopted in the late 19th Century as a catch-all term for indigenous religious healers and, over the course of the 20th Century, came to be associated with particular types of trance-induction and spiritual mediation. It was in that latter sense that I was first introduced to and familiarized with the word, and—because that was what my sources told me the word for the kinds of magic that came most naturally to me was—came to describe my visionary practice as “shamanic”, or “shamanic witchcraft”.

But there are anthropologists who don’t even think it’s a real thing (damn, why don’t I have my full library with me so I can fucking cite that? please forgive me and use your favorite search engine): that “shamanism” is a social construction created by Western scientists as a way of understanding and conflating certain kinds of indigenous religious and magical practice which have no Western analogue (well, unless VVF is right about fairies, or unless you count theurgy). This argument carries more weight the more research I do. Yes, it’s helpful to create categories of like things so that we can better understand similarities, but … At the very least, one must simultaneously acknowledge that the categorization is alien to the system being observed. Better practice would require a more proactive attempt to first understand the “shamanic” practices as the people to whom they are native understand them.

A number of my religious/spiritual/magical practices are rooted in what is known in some circles as “core shamanism”—that is, the use of drums, dance, rhythm, and/or drugs as techniques of achieving certain states of altered consciousness, stripped of their original cultural context and any elements or trappings that are most obviously cultural appropriation. This is the work advocated by, for example, Michael Harner and Roger Walsh.

I’m not called to work with remains and spirits of animals, as Lupa is; nor am I as well known either she or Allison. These two facts shelter me from an awful lot of the bullshit, allowing me to work my way through these issues in relative peace. But my magical talents seem much better suited to exploring the Otherworld than anything else, and when spirits appear to me as animals and refuse to give me names, calling them “totems” and referring to them as Wolf or Leopard are pretty much the best I’ve got in terms of precise language. And, though there are problems with it, as someone who identifies as a writer first and foremost, precise language is kind of a big deal to me. Hell, the pursuit of precise, accurate, and affirming language is a huge part of my feminism/anti-racism/social justice effort. When my need for precise language pushes me into dangerous territory, all I can say is “I’m sorry. I’m working on it.”

I’ve spoken before on how uncomfortable I am with the the parts of neo-Pagan practice that dance around and over the borders of cultural appropriation, and of my personal relationship with those elements of practice. Increasingly, I find myself referring to my magical practice as “visionary” rather than “shamanic”. “Visionary” has it’s own problems—there’s these pesky associations with leadership and hierarchy, for example—but at least it doesn’t reek of colonialism. At the same time, though, I—like Lupa—struggle with the idea of bowing down to people within my own community who seem more interested in being the morality police than in actually serving social justice.

The more research I do, the more I come to understand that, while many of the techniques have been lost, “shamanic” practices are not absent from the Western tradition. Witches with flying potions, fairy familiars like those VVF talked about, Hellenistic theurgy, astral projection and pathworking. I’m not a theurge. I may worship the gods of ancient Hellas, but I don’t buy the ideas of a fallen/impure world from which one MUST ascend to reach the gods. Some gods are Up There, sure; and some are Down. But there are plenty of them Right Here With Us, too. I don’t to much pathworking because it’s too structured: I don’t like having my conclusions fed to me the way much of the pathwork I’ve seen seems to do. And I’m just not very good at astral projection (yet). But the fact is, I have the raw materials from which to build a cultural context for my visionary work. Until some spirit teaches me better ones, though, I’m pretty much stuck with the “shamanic” techniques I learned from Harner.

And, as long as I’m stuck with Harner—and Wood, and Walsh, and all the others—I’m pretty much stuck with the word “shaman”, no matter how much I dance around it. No matter how uncomfortable it makes me. And I don’t really know how I feel about that … let alone how I should feel about it.

In witchcraft

Synthesizing Planetary Magic Into My Personal Practice

Satyr Magos18/04/2012

Some readers may wonder, looking at my bio, how it is that I can be so ignorant of Chaos and ceremonial magics if I’ve been practicing for as long as I say I have. The short, easy answer is: freestyle circles and energy work, augmented by ecclectic/New Age Wiccan ritual and (in the last few years) visionary work.

When I was 18 or so, I came to the conclusion (in absence of any evidence, but … I was 18) that Cetlic knotwork was a two-dimensional representation of ways to shape energy. That, in combination with the stripped-out version of the LBRP that I had found on the internet and a keen interest in elemental energy, became the basis of my magical practice.

Like (I imagine) most magicians, I can conjure elemental energies essentially at will: drawing energy from the world around me, filtering it through my body and aura, and transmuting it by will into Fire, Air, Earth, or Water to suit my needs … just as one conjures and focuses intent for, say, some forms of candle magic or sigils. Unlike some witches and magicians, however, I also do this with Solar and Lunar energy.

One of the things I’m looking to do with my experiments in planetary magic is to come to understand those energies well enough that, in absence of convenient astrological timing—say we’re rolling retrograde when I need to do some mad Mercury, or right now with Saturn in the long retro, or it’s the Hour of Jupiter and I need some Venusian mojo right the fuck now—that I can conjure them in similar fashion. This sort of understanding of planetary forces would also facilitate my desire to, for example, make a talisman invoking the “baleful” aspects of Venus and Mars for a “No Babies Conceived Here Ever” talisman to hang above my bed.

Some will ask, “If it’s possible, why didn’t the ancients do it that way?” The easy answer is, of course, that’s not the way they thought about magic. Except, of course, in the East where we get a lot of these ideas from in the first place. Chi, anyone?* Again: I can already do this with Solar and Lunar energy.

Now, I realize that this will not shelter me from astrological “weather” altogether. It may never work the way I imagine it will (what does?). But think: if I can generate my own planetary energies as needed, how much more awesome could my sigils and talismans be when used in conjunction with astrological timing? And if I know how to move that energy, I could, for example, take advantage of the next Jupiter election to endow the shit of of some Jupiter water or store that energy in a crystal battery for another occasion.

*A gross oversimpification, I know.

In art, witchcraft

Seeking the Natal Genius II

Satyr Magos17/04/2012

Almost two weeks ago, the Saturday after Mercury went direct, I made a second attempt to contact my natal genius, whom I will hereafter refer to as ZG. In order to do so I drew a second, less inspired, Triangle of Conjuration and performed the operation at the appropriate Hour of Night. The sigil and name are blacked out for obvious reasons.

The Triangle on the right is the first; the left is the second.

In one sense, the evocation went well: I was able to produce a much clearer and more iconic drawing of ZG, and even to establish a certain degree of mental/psychic rapport. She’s a strange creature, whose imagery and iconography come from no particular time and place (though, given my own nature, what surprise in that?): bearing the wings ubiquitous of spirits in the Mediterranean and Near East, with a horned crown and clawed feet that remind one of the powers of Bronze Age Mesopotamia, a multiplicity of limbs evoking Indian gods, and a face which resembles something out of Hebrew tradition. The outline of the picture below was produced through a sort of automatic drawing, where I asked the spirit to appear to me and then waited to see what turned up on the page; the colors were added for aesthetic sake, but were not received during the communication.

On the other hand, the conclusion of the experiment was less than ideal: ZG used that psychic contact to inform me clearly that the approach I was taking was not working and would not work. Essentially, she dismissed me, and I am left with the relatively little information I acquired through the initial contact.

Is this a normal rate of progression? Am I doing something seriously wrong, or am I just so used to unusual degrees of success that I don’t know what to do with a more “natural” learning curve?

Most importantly, I’m still left with the primary question which led me to phrase my evocations the way I did: what the fuck do I do with my natal genius now that I’ve found her? Given her Saturnian nature, should I ask her for help exercising discipline, especially in terms of time management? Since she is Scorpio, shall I enlist her aid in my plots and schemes? As much help as those will be, what little I have seen others write on the matter seems to imply that the nature of a natal genius is far broader than these things. Can anyone share some personal anecdotes or published sources for me?