New Year, New You: Of Stones and Obstacles

It occurred to me yesterday that it has been almost two months since I last descended to the Underworld. 

This realization begs a clear and pertinent question: what’s been stopping me?  It is tempting to argue that I have been too busy with school; I have been busy, but that’s not actually the reason.  I could confess to lazyness—people are always willing to believe that I’ve been lazy.  But the truth is actually even worse.

I’m afraid.

The last time I went down, a spirit demanded something of me that I wasn’t comfortable giving.  Since then I have been afraid to return.  I have not been wholly inactive in that time—I drummed my friend Sannafrid down without difficulty about a month ago—but my attempts to descend on my own have been … fraught.  Even aiming to go only as far down as my Inner Temple, my visualization fails me.

The details are … sordid, actually, and of a nature somewhat taboo even in the circles I’m running in these days.  Maybe I’ll be willing to get into it more once I’ve my research has panned out and I have more context.  But the details are also beside the point.

I am shamanic witch, but I am afraid to descend to the underworld.  That is the point.  In order to progress in anything, I need to overcome that fear.

Another Queer Look at Wicca

[This is going to come off as a little harsh.  Fucking deal with it.]

Phil Hine recently published a post on the topic of how gay-friendly Wicca really is or isn’t.  This is a subject I spend a lot of time thinking about.  As I have mentioned numerous times, a great deal of my background and much of my source material are Wiccan or Wiccan-influenced, but there parts that I have always had problems with.  Admittedly, I had a great deal of trouble articulating some of those issues for many years.  I still have trouble articulating them in ways that don’t hurt or alienate my Wiccan friends.  I agree with everything Hine says in the post, and recommend that everyone also check out his ongoing series on occult gender paradigms*.

Wicca and many derivative forms of witchcraft are structured around a inescapably gender-essentialist idea of the world which is reflected in its conception of divinity.  In my experience, the general rule is that the more Traditional a Wiccan path, the worse an offender it is in this regard.  The worst implications of this can be seen in the old books of shadows, which explicitly encourage the eroticization of the power imbalance between student and teacher (Lady Sheba 115) and implicitly forbid homosexuality as an abomination (Ibid. 115-6).  And from here we start delving into the issues V.V.F. articulates so beautifully.  Ecclectic Wicca isn’t always as bad, but … it’s not generally very much better.

I’ve started and abandoned a post to this effect so many times that I’m surprised to cruise through my archives and find I’ve never actually finished one.

The whole “polarity” thing has read as fishy to me from the jump, anyway.  Sure, if one follows the electromagnetic metaphor (see Hine* again for the problems with this), one needs two “poles” to create motion.  But I have yet to meet the competent magician who can’t create that movement within themselves, alone, or had any trouble moving energy in tandem with any other competent magician.  All the serious groups I’ve worked with balanced out magically by element rather than by sex or gender.  When gender balance was an issue it was always one of cis-het-dudes assume they’re in charge and/or don’t listen when ladies talk, awkwardness and/or trouble ensues.  (This was a key issue in the breakdown of the proto-coven.)

I’ve only seen a couple books on Wicca for queers, and I’ll be honest and admit that I’ve only sat down and read one—Penczak’s Gay Witchcraft: Empowering the Tribe—but they seemed to follow the same pattern.  Much of what is wrong with Penczak’s book can been seen in the title: it offers queers a supporting role, an opportunity to use our super-special differences to support the community as a whole.  He talks a lot about the various queer gods (insomuch as that distinctly postmodern construction can be applied to ancient figures), but when it comes down to brass tacks it’s just another Wicca Double-oh-duh except with a purple cover.  The history is a little bit less wonky, which is probably why it’s published by Weiser instead of Llewellyn.

Many of these problems seem to stem from just how radical Wicca isn’t.  (Most forms of it anyway.  Reclaiming seems to have its shit together, but I’ve also never gotten to work with any Reclaiming folks, so that skews my perspective.)  Many forms of Wicca simply trade a transcendent sky-father who disapproves of everything for an imminent pair of sky-parents who approve of (almost) everything.  The value of “nature” changes, but often not the corrupt nature of humanity—“unnatural” or “disconnected from nature” instead of “fallen” or “sinful”, but whatever.

Ultimately, though, the whys and the wherefores don’t matter for shit.  As a queer, I frequently feel excluded from or tangential to the Wiccan mainstream of neo-Paganism … when I don’t feel outright unwelcome.  The ceremonial magic I’ve been studying lately is even worse (I have to call fucking phallocentric bullshit on a lot of that stuff, especially anything coming out of the GD).

The more time I spend in the Underworld, the less comfortable I get with any of the traditions I can find in print.  Shit gets weird down there, yo.  So weird even I’m not comfortable writing about all of it.


*No links for further Phil Hine because you should just read everything he has to say. 

Lady Sheba.  The Grimoire of Lady Sheba.  Centenial Edition.  St. Paul, Llewellyn: 2001.

New Year, New You: Begin at the Beginning 2

Deb’s prompt.  My initial thoughts.

The apartment is cleaner now.  Almost all my laundry is done, and the dishes finally done.  If they weren’t, the paper never would have been written.  Yes, this counts as magic; it was done mindfully, with the intent of clearing my mind.  I also smudged everything thoroughly with white sage.

My Yesod altar has been disassembled.  I think I’ve wallowed in the Moon enough for now.  I almost wonder if some of my … issues over the last weeks might relate to leaving it up too long.  I had originally planned to move on to Hod long before finals week.

Due to some unexpected car trouble, in addition to my struggles producing my final paper, I am returning to Kansas City tomorrow morning instead of this morning.  Tonight I will make a Mercury talisman (I should have done it yesterday) and tomorrow morning before I go, I will add some Mercury power to my existing car-protection ward.

When I return from break, I will probably set up my Hod alter.  I will absolutely have a plan for how I will balance continuing my ceremonial experiment with better maintaining my previously established practice, and balancing those with school.  This will require much meditation.

Lessons for next year: never start finals week with the house a disaster. It’s almost as hard to research in a messy temple as it is to worship or work. Also, try not to let your car break down at the same time, because that just pushes the stress over the top.

New Year, New You: Begin at the Beginning

The way in which Deb’s challenge is in sync with my own life is fascinating.  Major housecleaning and a bit of Mercurial Work were already on the table.  It’s the last days of the semester: the apartment must be clean and cleansed before I leave, so that I don’t come home to a disaster and loose all the sanity I intend to gain before break; it’s my last day to write & study before I take my final exam and turn in my final paper, which makes Hermes my best friend and Mercury my fuel; also, I need them both to help me out with the ten-hour drive through corn corn corn corn corn corn corn and more corn, punctuated only by major urban areas and rural speed traps.

Deb is right to point out the importance of a clean house for magical work.  I was skeptical of this theory for years, but I got the clue phone eventually.  These days I can tell the difference in my magic—be it my daily practice, my lunar rites, or anything else—when I haven’t taken the time to put everything away, do the dishes, and sweep the floor.  Yes, my body is my temple.  So is my house—I named it the Sunrise Temple for a reason.  I need to get me a besom and an aspergillum.  In the meantime: smudge, smudge, and more smudge.

The matter of my time management is a little different.  Finals is the high-stress-point of a student’s year, and that involves a mad roller coaster of high production and gross procrastination.  I’m doing better than many of my peers—I turned in my first final paper a whole hour early, my last should be done tonight, and I’m think I’m prepared for my final exam in Attic Greek (expect to see a bit of original Greek composition and my first attempts to translate Homer here over the next few weeks)—but I’m still here blogging right now instead of studying.  We’ll soon see if that’s time well invested in legitimate “rest”, or just another round of “anything but homework”.

In magical terms—because while my scholarship is intimately related to my religious practice, it’s not quite “magic”—I need to work out a new schedule.  After several months of off-and-on daily practice, I’ve come to the conclusion that what I’ve been doing isn’t quite working for me.  I need more variety.  I need to up my “chill meditation” to “magical ritual” ratio.  I need to spend less time worrying about my daily practice and get back on top of my lunar rites. 

I just missed the Full Moon.  I haven’t even done my monthly tarot reading.  So be it.  The Dark  Moon is coming, it has always featured more prominently in my personal practice than the full—that whole shamanic thing—and the Hellenic lunar calendar starts on the first day of the waxing moon anyway.  I was already considering making that shift, and now’s as good a time as any.

These things are all easy.  I was going to do them anywhere. 

Putting down and moving rocks … that’s a little harder.  I’m a little vague on what I want right now, outside of the academic sphere.  I’m moving in a lot of directions but I don’t actually have goals.

This is often how I get myself into trouble.

I’m so overwhelmed right now that I don’t eve know which of the weights on my shoulders are my schoolwork, which are the demands of others, and which are my own.  I won’t be able to sort out which are the good weights from the bad until I’ve had a little rest.

ETA:  Fucking typos.

New Year, New You

I don’t link to her often, but Deborah Castellano is fucking brilliant.  She has, in a sense, said to the magical community: “You can fucking do it.  I dare you.”  And rightly so.  Sometimes our armchairs are too cozy, our libations too tasty, and the Work too … well, hard.  And we lose track of what we can accomplish if we set our minds to it.

In a sense, I have already set myself to something like this.  In a sense, I have already stumbled.  But the great thing about cyclical time is that I can have as many New Years as I want.  So I’m in.  I’m going to double-down.  I’m going to refine my intent.

Here’s what I’m going to do:

* I’m going to continue my experimental forays into Western Ceremonialism, though I’m going to throw the time table out the window.  The subject is just too big for any year-and-a-day bullshit.

* I’m going to dive back into the witchcraft that’s gotten me this far.  I’m going to dig into my old notes and try to find all the wild and crazy shit that I knew to do but not what to do with back before I blew my fuse.

* I’m going to push the boundaries of my art-as-magic thesis and praxis.  That means more wild, wacky, and surreal images.  More speculations as to what sort of magic I can accomplish through art alone.

* I’m going to resume the shamanic aspects of my practice, which have been falling on the wayside under the pressure of my ceremonial and academic studies.  This may seem strange to some people, but … I miss the Underworld.

* I’m going to pick back up my formal Book of Shadows project—better known to my meatspace friends than you year readers—and I’m going to restart it from scratch.  I’ve spent a lot of time on that project over the last couple years, and if it’s taught me nothing else it’s that I’m still laboring under a whole lot of bullshit pretense.

* I’m going to see what I can do about that bullshit pretense.  Please bear with me through the painful and embarrassing parts of that process.

* And, finally, I’m going to do all these things SOMEHOW without letting my GPA suffer.

Balls to the wall, y’all.

New Year, New Me.

Tarot for Sagittarius: 10 Swords; fix with 7 Cups

When I did my annual reading at Samhain, the Card I drew for the sign of Sagittarius was the 10 of Swords, possibly the least auspicious card in the deck.  When I asked “how do I fix this?” I drew the 7 of Cups.  The worst possible reading for these cards goes something like, “Your life is falling apart and there’s nothing you can do about it, so just pretend it isn’t happening.”  The 10 of Swords also appeared in my annual reading as an underlying theme, and in my last full moon reading as the card for the 9th House.

The 10 of Swords is most often understood as a card about things falling apart.  It is a card of death, dismemberment, and betrayal.  And endings.  Especially endings.  Anthony Lewis’ Tarot Plain and Simple offers numerous keywords.  First and foremost he describes the 10 of Swords as “Stabbed in the back.” and “The end of a cycle.”  But as you dig into the keywords it gets a little more interesting.  There are of course the expected tragedies: ruin; failure; defeat; separation; pain.  There are also some that are a great deal more helpful to me in the moment: a decisive rupture; a forced change; an emotional cut off; a decision that alters your life; possible travel.  His interpretation of the card’s “situation and advise” in in respect to the card is more helpful still: your plans are not working out; you may be feeling emotionally cut off; something has ended that may still concern you; a situation or relationship is coming to its irrevocable end, and you may be feeling on the threshold of depression because of your loss.

Then we get to the fun part.  I don’t do reversed cards, but that doesn’t make those potential meanings go away: The worst is over; the end of a cycle and a new beginning.  Emerging from a period of emotional turmoil, hurt, and sadness.  The worst is over and your problems are beginning to resolve.

And while the Robin Wood deck doesn’t carry the Crowley meanings heavily, I think some of them are good to keep in mind: excessive reliance on the “rational” mind; collapse of unstable ideas and intellectual constructs; destruction of paradigms.

At first glance the 7 of Cups is an odd solution for anything: Lack of focus; a sense of confusion.  If I were to choose two words that describe my understanding of this card in the Robin Wood deck it would be “delusion” and “distraction”.  But looking deeper, there are some very helpful things going on here: emotion dominating rational thought (a particularly good counter to 10S); altered states; visions; significant dreams; psychic impressions.  The card talks about making difficult, even impossible choices.  Again, noting the “reversed” meanings: the fog lifts.

So I think I understand my 10 of Swords.  My struggles with my ceremonial experiment have definitely been a major factor so far this “month”, and with my recent decision to slow that down and consolidate what I’ve already learned, I expect they will continue to do so—for the rest of the month, even the rest of the year.  I have also become disenchanted with the roadmap I originally chose for that program of study.  So we see the sudden stop, and particularly see the meaning of the 10S in my 9th House at the moon and (possibly) as an underlying theme for the year.  I’ve also been trapped in the overly-cerebral world of academia-as-the-semester-ends, leaving my creative mind battered and neglected.  And there are definitely some decisions that I’ve been putting off to the point where those decisions might just be made for me.

The 7 of Cups is a solid solution for many of these problems: magic, particularly dreams and visionary work.  And I need to figure out what, exactly, it is that I want, and put that decision into action before it’s too late.

Annual Reading Part 2/2

I’ve been struggling over the second part of my annual reading.  Not just the meanings, which become less and less clear as I use my Robin Wood tarot deck less and less, but even to find time to look at it.  So I’m going to post the outline now and go over each period as I come to them.  Probably more useful that way anyway.

For Part 1/2 look here.

Below the fold are my chronological reading and some of the synthesis between the two.

CHRONOLOGICAL VIEW

Scorpio ~ November – Queen of Cups

Sagittarius ~ December – 10 Swords – fix with 7 Cups

Capricorn ~ January – 5 Cups – fix with 10 Disks

Aquarius ~ February – X Wheel of Fortune

Pisces ~ March – Ace of Cups

Aries ~ April – Knight of Disks

Taurus ~ May – Queen of Wands

Gemini ~ June – 8 Disks

Cancer ~ July – 5 Disks – fix with Page of Wands

Leo ~ August – II the High Pirestess

Virgo ~ September – Ace of Wands

Libra ~ October – XI Justice

Underlying = 2 Wands

REPEATS

10 Swords = Underlying 1 + Sagittarius

2 Wands = 4th House + Underlying 2

X Fortune/Wheel of Fortune = 5th House + Aquarius

Knight of Disks = 8th House + Aries

Ace of Wands = 12th House + Virgo

XI Justice / VIII Adjustment = Libra + fix 3rd House

MAJOR ARCANA

IX the Hermit = fix 1st House

XV the Devil = 2nd House

VIII Adjustment = fix 3rd House

X Fortune = 5th House

XIV Art = 6th House

XI Lust = fix 7th House

XVI the Tower = 10th House

X Wheel of Fortune = Aquarius

II the High Pirestess = Leo

XI Justice = Libra

COURT CARDS

Knight of Disks = 8th House

Princess of Swords = 10th House

Queen of Disks = 11th House

Princess of Wands = central theme

Knight of Swords = crosses PrsWands

Queen of Cups = Scorpio

Knight of Disks = Aries

Queen of Wands = Taurus

Page of Wands = fix Gemini

Christopher Penczak’s Temple of High Witchcraft

Temple of High Witchcraft is the fourth book in Christopher Penckzac’s “Temple of Witchcraft” series.  It attempts to frame the the Western Ceremonial tradition in terms which are compatible with the particular strain of solitary Wicca he describes in the previous three books. 

On my first read, it looked good—albeit with the standard Penczak disclaimers: don’t trust his history; swallow your bile when every time he says “harm none”; and try not to cry when he reduces complex pantheons to weak incarnations of his disturbing “Goddess, God, and Great Spirit” triad.

Following the scheme established by his first three books, he offers thirteen lessons: one preliminary, one chapter for each of the ten Sephiroth, one more for Da’ath, and a final initiation.  In keeping with the most interesting and useful part of his previous lessons, each stage of the study is accompanied by a distinctive altar plan.  Unlike the previous books, he frames each Sephira as an initiatory stage, attempting to parallel the initiatory structure of the Golden Dawn.  The lessons build on one another, with the student’s daily rituals becoming increasingly elaborate.  Each lesson also introduces one or two of the various iconic elements of Golden Dawn ceremonialism—Abremelin Oil, planetary sigils, the Rosy Cross, and the like.  Each lesson ends with a set of pathworkings.  Throughout the book and in the appendices, he offers a number of exercises and alternatives to make the patriarchal and monotheist structures of the GD more compatible with an individual eclectic Wiccan system, culminating in a reality map to replace the Qabalistic Tree of Life in student’s practice.

Knee-deep in the program, however, certain problems begin to come clear.  Although the book is weighty, too many of the pages are taken up by Penczak’s bullshit history and theory.  While the lessons look weighty on initial examination, in attempting to actually make use of them they fall short.  He oversimplifies the subject to the point of uselessness.  Finally, and most importantly, these problems culminate in a course whose ostensible target audience could not possibly complete in the proposed amount of time.

I don’t even know where to begin with the bullshit of Penczak’s history and magical theory.  Although I sometimes get the impression that he actually knows something of history and is bullshitting for the benefit of the audience, we’re talking about someone who feels perfectly comfortable asserting that the actual use of the Pyramids is unknown because some people have past-life memories of their use as magical communication devises a-la Chariots of the Gods (IToW citation forthcoming).  And his magical theory still pretty much reads like a verbose version of DJ Conway. 

Each lesson comes with an addition to the practitioner’s daily regimen, an alchemical or ritual experiment to perform, and a pair of pathworkings with which to conclude the lesson.  But trying to work through those lessons, it turns out that there’s not actually anything to work through.  Most of each lesson’s page count is consumed by Cunningham-esque correspondence tables and lengthy explanations thereof.  Each ritual is presented as a series of physical and mental motions, with no explanation of what the rite is actually attempting to achieve.  Each lesson has a beginning, and an end, but no middle.  In order to be really effective, each chapter would need to be twice as long. 

Looking to my personal library and—more importantly, the Internet—for solutions to these problems, I discovered what I personally consider the second worst problem of the book.  It perpetuates the idea that the Golden Dawn and Thelemic lodge traditions are the whole and sum of the Western magical tradition.  I don’t know what else to say about this.  There is so much ceremonial magic out there, from the Greek Magical Papyri to Cornelius Agrippa and everything in between and things I’ve never even heard of yet.  This is a huge scholastic–even moral–failing on the part of Christopher Penczak.

As a serious student of magic with a large personal library and access to the Internet, I was able to overcome these first problems.  But I’ve also been practicing magic of one form or another for fifteen years.  Having worked a good job and been relatively financially privileged, I have a library which is the envy of many who see it.  And I have access to high-speed internet both at home and at school, and have had for most of my adult life (counting, for the sake of this statement, that period when 24kbps WAS “high speed” for the time).  There is no guarantee that everyone buying Penczak’s book—or borrowing it from the library—has these advantages.  Further, it’s meant to stand on no more foundation than his previous three books.

Let me say that again: this regimen is meant to be within the abilities of someone who has done no more than Penczak’s three previous year-and-a-day courses. 

There is no way that someone just beginning their third year of magical practice could make it through this book in a year and a day without hurting themselves.  Well, except possibly to get nothing out of it whatsoever.

Don not, under any circumstances, buy this book new.  Don’t bother with this book at all, really, unless you’re like me and just like to have a framework for for a much larger program of independent study.


Penczak, Christopher. The Temple Of High Witchcraft, Ceremonies, Spheres And The Witches’ Qabalah. Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd, 2007.

Curse Tablets

Having recently discovered that one of my Classics professors shares my interest in historical magic and cult practice, I’ve been pointed toward a volume edited by Bengt Ankalroo and Stuart Clark: Witchcraft and Magic in Europe: Ancient Greece and Rome.  I’m only about 60 pages in so far, but it’s (moderately) dense academic work, and there’s already been more information than some New Age/Pagan/Occult authors can cram into 150-200 pages.

This shit is fascinating, though I don’t know how much I’ll actually ever need to use this information.  The Greeks and Romans were absolutely fucking ruthless when it came to cursing their enemies: giving them over to the hands of the dead and offering their souls and bodies to demons and cthonic gods.  But if I ever need to bind anyone, I’ll know where to look.  Equally fascinating is what our cultural ancestors felt compelled to curse each-other over: litigation, above all else, followed by commercial transactions, then matters of sex and love, and finally appeals for divine justice.  Apparently the Romans stationed in the Bath (the largest cache of the last category) were chiefly interested in the return of stolen property (p38), and the use of curse tablets to get laid was particularly popular in Egypt (p36).

Obviously, as a scholarly work instead of an occult one, some of the details I might need to implement these techniques are lacking–what sort of ritual processes went into dedicating the tablets once made?–but there’s enough detail that as a creative and experienced witch, I could make up what they don’t say.  And, if I were a purist, they are kind enough to point me to the relevant Greek Magical Papyri, almost innocent of the idea that anyone might still want to use this information.

The book is broken into four sections, each by a different researcher.  The first, by Daniel Ogden, focuses on the curse tablets.  George Luck writes the second, discussing sorcery and witchcraft as represented by the Classical literary tradition.  The third section, elaborating on the ideas, construction, and language of Classical magic, is written by Richard Gordon.  Valerie Flint completes the volume by discussing the ways in which Classical magic was changed and reinterpreted by the rise of the Christian empire.

Obviously, I cannot yet offer a complete review of the book, but I can and will recommend that any of you with with an interest in either the historical or occult aspects of Classical sorcery seek it out at your local library.

Font Problems With Attic Greek

Earlier today I happened to check the blog from a computer not my own.  It turns out that the Attic Greek font I’ve been using doesn’t embed.

For those of you out there who would like a free, legit Attic Greek font, I offer you SPIonic (and a few others besides).

Now, back to trying to find one that will actually embed itself in the post so I don’t have to count on you having anything special on your computer.