From the Sky

Last night, I dreamt about two strange things. Both were at receptions or parties of some sort. In the first episode, I was talking to one of my colleagues where I teach. She asked if I was all right, because I looked like I was burning up with fever. The second part of the dream, I was with a group of magicians. They were talking about someone who had "retired" from the group. Someone had called them to see how they were, and the sense was that they were fine, but they were not going to come by any time soon. Someone asked the person who made the call if they would be able to speak to this person. "Possibly," was the answer. "But it's not a question of how he's doing; it's a question of whether or not the group can let go of him."

Earlier this week, I finally received an article I'd requested on interlibrary loan. It was a sort of "psychoanalysis for the dinner table", written in Vanity Fair in 1915, by none other than Aleister Crowley. It's written in his typically bombastic style, which probably would have been amusing to that magazine's readership. Though he can't help but to inject language from Liber Legis ("every man and woman is a Star", etc.) into the article, and I wonder if that audience would have found it to be anything but an eccentricity. In any case--Crowley talks about Freud and Jung, and about dream analysis. He declares that he kept track of his dreams for a month, and in that time, only two dreams seemed to have any significance outside of everyday events. His dreams could be tracked to something he read before going to sleep, a particularly intense chess match with a friend, or a conversation he might have had the day before.

The dream I mention above would fall into that category. I had a long phone conversation last night with a friend who I don't get to talk to very often, since he moved a couple thousand miles away. We were discussing things that later appeared in my dream--in particular, magical societies and famous long-running members. Probably not coincidentally, the colleague in the first part of my dream is one of the few people I know where I work who has made some kind of formal academic study into the areas I'm currently writing about. In short--this is a dream of the personal unconscious rather than the collective. But they can be just as instructive.

In a broader context--I now have an association with interlibrary loans and black holes. I'm used to book or article requests taking 2 or 3 days; the standard now seems to be 2 or 3 weeks, even if it's only being sent from one campus to another of the same school where I work during the day. Perhaps many people are on vacation, but there should also be far fewer requests in the summertime. No one seems to know where these items go for 2 or 3 weeks; hence, I think of them as falling "into a black hole", though they eventually come out intact on the other side. Maybe they know of my interest in drinking good wine, and assume I like everything "vintage", so they hold my requests for aging. Which is thoughtful, but books don't taste as good as wine, though a really old book will have a wonderful "bouquet" (aroma). Like wine, this is probably due to some kind of growth (fungal or bacterial) in the thing itself. In fact, it has been posited that reading old books can be like taking drugs, due to inhaling the fungi that tend to grow in the pages.

But returning to black holes. I have discussed the Kabbalistic "Tree of Life" before, with its 10 sephiroth. An 11th sephiroth has been posited underneath Binah and Chokmah, and above Geburah and Chesed. This "invisible" sephiroth is known as "Da'ath", and refers to the Abyss that one crosses in the journey from the temporal to the eternal. (Mr. Crowley comes in once again here, as the positing of Da'ath is attributed to him, but I'm pretty sure the idea pre-dates him. He may have been the one who popularized its use in magical philosophy).

(Click on the image to make it bigger).

If I may oversimplify for a moment--one might think of the bottom half of the tree as "Earth", and the upper part as "the Heavens", using that term very broadly. The tree is light at the top and dense at the bottom (really, it hangs upside down), and the lighter part is the realm of "spirit". The Abyss is located in the realm of Spirit, not on the "material" side of things, as you might expect. Metaphorically speaking--to cross the Abyss and not fall in would require one to be light on ego baggage. So, someone on a spiritual journey would have to do a lot of work on themselves and their weak areas before attempting this psychological leap. In a cosmological metaphor--it is the black hole in the middle of the heavens. I cannot help but think of Joseph Campbell and his functions of mythology--one function is to provide a reasonable cosmology or understanding of the universe. Interestingly--it is now known that at the center of our "heavenly" galaxy (and indeed, many, if not all, galaxies) there is a black hole. (This doesn't scientifically prove anything about anything, but it's an interesting thing to observe).

Another book I am finishing right now is Jake Stratton-Kent's "Geosophia", volume 1. It is about the history of Goetia, and it is incredibly well-researched and thorough in its treatment. He uncovers the origins of Greek mythologies, tracing their characters back to their various forms in different parts of Asia Minor. One of the things he addresses is the transference of the afterlife/underworld to the sky. He attributes the origin of this transfer to Heraclides of Pontus, writing around the 4th century BCE. Previously the dead were thought to travel through underground caves to the underworld, regardless of what kind of life they led. What is important is the changing roles of deities and spirits when the underworld was moved to the sky. "The resultant upheavals indifferently made objects of devotion into demons and restored lustre to those formerly despised". (p. 177) Eventually this would lead to the Platonic idea that separated the deity from the material universe. And thus--as Stratton-Kent notes--"This separation, which monotheistic theology occasionally considers its crowning accomplishment, is from another point of view one of the world's greatest doctrinal disasters." (p. 177)

Or, to put it another way--in Carl Jung's writing on Paracelsus--“The Church might exorcise demons and banish them, but that only alienated man from his own nature, which, unconscious of itself, had clothed itself in these spectral forms.” It is responsible for the psychological split that all of us experience--between "science" and "religion", between "good" and "evil", between "God" and the "Devil".

Of final interest--Jung also talks about the Axis Mundi, which translates to "the center of the world", and is a mythological metaphor for the place where the sacred and the profane intersect. He describes the center as "an infinite Abyss of mysteries." Da'ath has to do with dispersion, being scattered. And, (still Jung talking), "distillation begins at the center".

In short--what tears us apart is what we also need to put us back together.

Chaos, Anyone?

I've come to realize what my problem is with Jesus. I hear a lot about embracing Jesus and "being saved". As though suddenly opening a Bible or looking at an image of Jesus will cause my heart to overflow and explode. In fact, I can liken people who ask me to embrace Jesus to friends who say, "I know this really great, perfect guy--and he'd be perfect for you!" Then I meet the guy in question to be nice, and feel seriously underwhelmed. I mean, he might be a nice person, might do something interesting, might even be good-looking by some collective aesthetic standard. But I'm not feeling it. So--I think, "yeah, nice guy, wouldn't mind a chat over some coffee, but otherwise...nah."

What typically happens when I say "thanks no thanks" is a backward shift in tactic. The tone becomes ominous. "You HAVE to embrace Jesus, or you'll burn for all eternity." Now just a second. Here's this nice perfect guy, suddenly he's serial killer material. As in, "Love me bitch, or I'll kill you." Call me crazy if you wish, but this makes me just a tad uneasy. I'd get a restraining order, and move to an island under an assumed name if I encountered a person like that. That isn't what Jesus is supposed to symbolize. But that's what evangelists end up making him symbolize. Symbols change over time--they may still retain their original meaning for some, but this kind of repeated barrage of Jesus LOVES you/Jesus is going to PUNISH you ends up sounding like a form of torture porn, not liberation from suffering. Perhaps Christian missionaries and evangelists will want to ponder this.

On another note, I found an interesting blog by Hyperritual, who posted this Magical Probability Calculator (with thanks to Weiser Books for posting).The formulas come from Liber Kaos, written by Peter Carroll, one of the originators of the idea of Chaos Magic. While I understand the principles behind Chaos Magic, there is a superficial irony in the notion of putting together "chaos" with things like mathematical probability. We acknowledge the overriding condition of Chaos, and deal with it by using order and rationality.

If there is one activity that I think all humans engage in, regardless of education, culture, class, race, economic status, or religion, it's attempting to find order in chaos. Chaos is thought of as what we call "God", though it is more specifically like the idea of Tao, or the No-Thingness of reality in Hinduism and Buddhism. (More like the Eastern idea of God than the Western one). There is no rationality, because the Source is beyond anything like "mind", or anything that our egos can relate to. Hindu Satgurus, like the one I've received a mantra from, are fond of what Hindus call "leela"--the deliberate and senseless screwing up of something, with the intention of making you abandon your delusions of control, expectation, and outcome. "Leela" literally means "play", and was often attributed to Krishna when he played tricks on the Gopis, stole butter, and other such things. The word "play" is intentional here, because we tend to take ourselves, our goals, and our beliefs much too seriously.

Naturally, this will make some of you think of the Principia Discordia, the gospel of Eris (goddess of Chaos). It's a very funny read, and it's been described as "religion pretending to be a joke, or a joke pretending to be a religion". Some people have posited that this was written by Robert Anton Wilson, but the authorship is really anonymous. The basic idea that Principia lays out, in appropriately archane language, is that humans suffer the "curse of Greyface". They believe everything is somber and serious and have destroyed the joy of living. So, the Discordians fight back against "Greyface" by being ridiculously silly. Anyone who joins the "religion" is automatically declared a Pope.

This brings me back to a question posted by Weiser Books on their Twitter feed this week (paraphrased by me)--can one live a life according to "Chaos Magic", or is it just something theoretical, an abstract exercise? Can we really embrace "chaos" as a way of living in our societies? Our minds want sense and order--we want to classify, label, measure, and reason. Scientific method is based on causality (even though David Hume proved that causality is philosophically flawed). Cause and effect. We assume it, and scratch our heads when things fall outside of our sphere of understanding.In Eastern meditation, the Vedantics, who have no image of God at all, still meditate on something like a candle flame. The mind needs to focus on something. It's an incredibly rare occurrence if someone can do so and still live a normal life in the world. I would suggest that such a person has gone beyond being human. Even the originators of Chaos Magic themselves suggest using religion and its symbols "pragmatically".

In the end, it goes back to the idea of Surrender. (Which, by the way, is the meaning of the word "Islam"). We spend our lives making careers, families, setting goals. But it's all temporal, and has no value or meaning at the Eternal level. When the Adept crosses the Abyss, there is no ego left--the weight of the ego is systematically shed on the spiritual path. The same is true of the great saints of Catholicism--reading John of the Cross or Teresa of Avila shows you this burning away, and the Void that is created. This is the meaning of the Goddess Kali--her destruction involves stripping away all of one's delusions about reality until there's nothing left but naked Consciousness. To survive such a thing requires no attachments, just a willingness to accept everything as it comes without judging it against your ego's ethics and standards. Needless to say, this is incredibly difficult--and more difficult to switch back and forth between this state and the state of "living in the world".

In a little piece in the Principia Discordia called "Starbuck's Pebbles", we read: "The real reality is there, but everything you KNOW about "it" is in your mind and yours to do with as you like. Conceptualization is art, and YOU ARE THE ARTIST. Convictions cause convicts." (We are also helpfully told, "Never write in pencil unless you are on a train or sick in bed".)

Austin Osman Spare, anyone?

Sacrifice

I subscribe to the Religion News Blog, which should be no surprise to anyone. As I scan the headlines, I see a lot about court cases and murder charges. Parents who starve their children as some kind of penance. People drowned as a result of some bizarre exorcism ritual. Most recently--a mother who burned her daughter as part of a voodoo ritual.

I think about this kind of thing in the context of folkloric "satanic" rituals, in which you get groups of people killing animals, or occasionally you will find a human being supposedly killed for such reasons. Like Lovecraft's "Necronomicon", there are a lot of people who believe that this is "real" magic. (In case you don't know--the Necronomicon is a fictional invention, but many people think it is a real occult grimoire).

This idea is a very old one in religion--bloody sacrifice is all over the Old Testament, and all religions have had some version of this in their distant past. In modern times it is often associated with black magic. The attribution, if not faulty, is unnecessary. A.E. Waite traces the idea of a "sacrificial victim" in black magic to a simple functional need--blood was not required for the ceremonies. Pacts required a written document, and it wasn't that easy to procure the right writing implements. So--the magician often had to slaughter his own lamb and tan the skin for this purpose. In modern times, assuming one would want to do such a ritual, the magician certainly has fine parchment and vellum at his or her disposal without going through that trouble.

Outside of the idea of "pacts", there are also old "natural" magic rituals that may call for the blood of an animal, or maybe even of the person. However, for those practicing today, there are obvious substitutions. Just as various herbs and essences can be substituted in incenses and oils for various purposes, those ingredients obviously can be dispensed with as well.

Blood is associated with life, and hence with one's "manna", or power. This at least is part of the psychology of its use. On the other hand--I've heard Swamis who refer to blood offerings (in this case to Kali) as being "impure". Blood is associated with the temporal body rather than the eternal soul. Hence, one should not offer blood, but true devotion.

For all this, you still hear about bloody sacrifice. It's probably not as prevalent as you would think; like many things, the media will tend to focus on the shocking, and treat it like it's the norm. Sacrifice is probably most prevalent today in traditions like Santeria (a sort of Catholic voodoo), in some tribal religions, and in small villages in Asia. Kali worshippers in rural parts of India are said to occasionally perform sacrifice--sometimes you even hear of a Tantric priest sacrificing a child. Amma has said that such practices are based on a misunderstanding of Kali. She is not a violent force to be appeased--she is the root of Consciousness, and as such, is very intense.

Intensity may be the key regarding such practices today. We live in fear of the Numinous, and we feel it has to be approached in grave ways. This is why you will not only see the idea of bloody sacrifice, but the need for very expensive tools in magical practices (e.g., sigils made of solid gold). Someone asked Lon Milo DuQuette about that very thing at his lecture on Goetia. Lon's response to the idea of gold sigils for demons was, "they're lucky if they get cardboard". The reality is that none of these things are necessary. It says more about the insecurity (and perhaps the inexperience) of the magician in question. Which goes back to something else said by Lon--in order to practice Goetia, "one must be a Solomon". Which means you have to be in control of yourself and willing to face the unknown with confidence. Often there isn't perfect confidence, so one needs a lot of fancy trappings to make oneself feel "like a Solomon".

Magic of any type is psychological, and as you know, that doesn't reduce or minimize it. It is highly symbolic, and all that matters is that you are able to connect with the symbols you are using. I remember a witch telling me once that you could do a Wiccan ritual with a feather, a match, a coin, and a drop of water (for each of the elements). When you examine the universe, it becomes more and more granular, until you realize there's not much to it that's "real" at all. When we take ourselves and rituals too seriously, it is because we are completely taken in by the illusions around us. One of the most fascinating things about psychology is how something can exist independently of you, but also be "just in your head" at the same time.

As humans we like illusions. We tell stories. The whole drama of our existence is based on stories. The scarier things sound, the more expensive things are, the more authentic they must be--they must be "better" or more "real". It's amazing how much time and energy we waste on that kind of absurdity. Often the only real thing is fear is such cases. But all of us are affected by it unconsciously.

A final thought--most of the Adepts that I have met over the years are people who didn't (or don't) take themselves too seriously. Being around them is like being around the Satguru--they radiate a joy and peace that comes from understanding in a real way (not just intellectually) that Life is a drama, and should not be approached in such a grave manner. And of course, the more ego baggage we lose on the journey, the more we find that rituals are at some point unnecessary for us. This is true of religion as well. Amma has said that rituals and deities and images are "ladders that we climb to reach our destination"--but they are not the destination. That said--the mind does work in images, so images will always be with us.

Cat With Thumbs

A couple of my Facebook friends posted this British TV commercial. It's for a brand of milk, and it speculates on the idea of cats with thumbs:



This is Janis Joplin. She is a cat I inherited when I moved into this house. She actually has thumbs:




As the owner of a polydactyl (i.e., thumbed) cat, I can tell you that she does not open doors, read books, or file her nails. However, I have entered my basement (where she lives) and found mouse intestines strewn in front of the furnace. The other day I found a cave cricket near her bed, with the head ripped off. I treat this cat like an elemental--she can be sweet and loving, but I always have a wary eye on her darker proclivities.

This, by the way, is a cave cricket:

I probably have several of them in my basement, but aside from the headless one, I've only seen two others. They hang out in the basement stairwell. I call them Fred and Ethel. I have no idea about the sex of either of them--I didn't check. And my policy on cave crickets is I don't mind them being around, as long as they don't jump on me or end up on my clothes or in my hair.

Besides thumbed cats and striped crickets, I encountered another mismatch yesterday evening. I have been writing an article on H.P. Lovecraft, and I came across a couple of articles about the Cthulhu mythos. They suggested that Cthulhu and the Old Ones were not deities at all, but aliens, and that humanity was an accident. Lovecraft was no occultist; he was more of an existentialist than anything. His stories suggested the power and indifference of the cosmos, and how insignificant we are in the whole scheme.

I noticed that the author of two of these articles was Robert M. Price. My interest was piqued when I saw that he went to the same theological seminary where I got my graduate degree. As it turns out, this is the same "Bob Price" that served as minister when my now ex-husband and I were married in 1994. I had no idea he'd written about the Cthulhu mythos, and I wasn't sure I'd expected it. On the other hand--this is the same Dr. Price who, when we were writing our wedding service, said, "we'll just delete all that Jesus stuff out of there." Lest I get him in any trouble--he was tailoring the service to my husband and I, and had more "secular" versions of the service. We did not want a religious service.

Life and the people you encounter in life are often surprising. In reflecting on my last blog post, we have very curious ideas about what is "normal", and what pattern people's lives should follow, given what they've identified with. As someone with a Religious Studies Master's degree, people are usually surprised (and perhaps uncomfortable in some cases) with my interest in the occult. Then again, I never went to school to be a minister; people just assume that this is what one does with a Religion degree, or what one aspires to do. I suppose that I was surprised by Bob because he DID become a minister--a Baptist minister, at that. But, I don't think it's "weird"--in fact, I applaud his openness, which could only benefit his congregation.

I've been labeled "weird" by people before, and not just for my esoteric interests. I had a friend once who was very attached to me, but whenever we went out with her friends, she always introduced me as her "weird friend". I never really understood why I was considered "weird". Then I considered that her life revolved around hanging out in bars, discussing stock portfolios, and moaning that she was too stressed because her husband didn't shower her with affection daily and she wasn't appreciated enough at her job. One day I said to her, "maybe you're unhappy because you have no passion. Your life revolves around your husband and your job. Your job sucks, and your husband is a busy executive. Maybe you need to find what really interests you." She looked at me like I had three heads, and then intoned, like a mantra, "I don't know why I'm so depressed."

When I think about myself, the places where I don't intersect with the "norm" are--not being married, not wanting children, not waiting for Prince Charming to sweep me off my feet, taking responsibility for my mistakes and problems, and accepting the negatives in life as much as the positives. Oh, and not basing my life and career on how much money I can make. If I've read the literature correctly, this comes out to being at least reasonably "psychologically healthy". Which, by some social standard, makes me "weird".

Of course, they say that one in twenty-five people are sociopaths, and one in one-hundred are psychopaths. Which would make psychological disease the norm.

I often reflect on this when I think I've chosen a risky life path. Given the norm, I'd rather be a cat with thumbs.

The Surprise

Saturday afternoon--I'm in my bedroom, at my re-claimed office desk. The sky is blue, the ground outside is decidedly green, and a beautiful breeze blows through my window. My indoor cat is snoring away on my bed, and I can see one of my outdoor kitties from the far window asleep on a patio chair, curled up in a ball that is white spotted with gray. It is a sleepy afternoon, with the hum of lawnmowers, and the singing of birds. I sit cross-legged in an old 18th century chair with a glass of claret, newly awake from a nap. On weekends, most of my chores and cleaning are done early--I'm usually finished with all domestic tasks by noon at the latest. Today, I have two more big tasks for the afternoon. I contemplate blowing off everything and just heading out to one of the local microbreweries for some exceptional beer and maybe food. But I am short on money and not in need of extra pounds, so the adult in me decides to stay put.

An early morning e-mail check always takes me to Yahoo's home page, that bastion of "normalcy", where a bevy of unrelated articles always rotate across the screen. Today, there was an article about racecar driver Danica Patrick. The question was whether or not she was planning to have a family with her husband. In typical Yahoo fashion, the headline said, "the answer might surprise you." Of course, her answer was no. She's married, but has a career and other interests, and doesn't feel a pull to motherhood. Surprise!

As is often the case with Yahoo articles, that "surprise" phrase managed to irk me. Maybe because I've been asked the same question a thousand times before--not so much since I've been divorced, but an awful lot when I was married. And it's an annoying question in this day and age. Instead, if she announced she wanted a family, the question ought to be, "are you sure that's what you want?"

I probably shouldn't blame Yahoo or anyone else. After all, motherhood is the central mythological female theme. The mystery of Woman is that she can manifest life. There is a Mother archetype--and a Terrible Mother archetype. There are hosts of goddesses that represent different aspects of women as mothers, and as family nurturers. Even Amma will always say that one should embrace their inner Motherhood--men included. (In that case, she is not being literal--she is saying to develop the associated qualities of compassion and nurturing).
The Virgin, Maiden, and Crone as archetypes of a woman's life cycle all center around the woman's ability to bear children. Joseph Campbell once said that girls become women when they experience menstruation, meaning that they are finally able to have children. And thus their myth begins.

But does it?

Biologically, the woman as potential mother is a fact. Our myths are as hardwired as other genetic features, and just as animals know when to engage in certain behavior to reproduce, the human female also changes when she finally "grows up" via drowning in a sea of aggressive hormones. A sea, by the way, she is told to stay out of when it happens to her in adolescence. But when she is an adult, it is expected of her.

But consider the following--there are men who love men, and women who love women. They are not driven to reproduce, not in the ordinary sense. They may choose to have families, but that's usually through adoption, artificial insemination, or surrogate motherhood with a third-party female. There are also women like myself, and apparently, Danica Patrick--we have no urge to have children. And that's not likely to change.

I don't like children. I'll say it plainly here, whether that's considered "right" or not. While I am happy for friends, family and acquaintances who have children and want them, in no way do I want to hold said baby, or babysit, or have anything to with them or their care. When I see a baby, I see an ugly, pruny thing that spits up, craps radioactive waste, and cannot be reasoned with when it starts screaming its head off. It is basically a giant producer of disgusting things, and it is excessively high maintenance. It will learn to manipulate its parents much earlier than anyone would imagine. I don't mind kids once they've become more sentient and can carry on a conversation. But I still don't want one.

I know I'm not alone in this. The saddest part is when I have female friends who get married and have families, and realize they feel the same way. I had a college friend who married early and had a baby with her husband at 23. She continually referred to the baby as "it"--as in, "I can hardly wait to get away from it."

To me, there is no joy in trading a life of freedom for life with a child. I like traveling, researching, making new friends, going on adventures. You can't do that with a child. Motherhood is a huge sacrifice, and as far as I'm concerned, you have to want it. When you don't, and you do it because you're "supposed" to, trouble ensues--for you, and for the child. I don't want to bear that kind of psychological responsibility for someone else's existence.

So, back to my original question--can woman be defined and identified by her biological abilities? Is this her archetypical "journey" and "hero cycle"? I don't believe it is. We've been handed that line of garbage since time immemorial, and it is one of those Collective Unconscious things that gives us complexes. While I have no urge or desire to have kids, there is always that subtle external influence--those voices that say, "What do you mean you don't want children?" The same ones that are puzzled when I say I've never been happier since I've been divorced. Things are "not supposed to happen" that way, and you become another abnormality, a social deviant.

But my point is that I don't think it's "deviant" at all--I think most women, given the chance, would skip on the whole marriage and motherhood thing. Some love it to death and are content with that life, so good for them. They will continue to propagate the species. But many never should have gone there, never really wanted to go there. In the end, they walk away from their married lives, and in a lot of cases, the children end up feeling abandoned, at fault, or unloved, even if those feelings are not consciously obvious. For instance--most friends of mine who are children of divorce are quite content with their parents' decision--until that parent decides to re-marry or pick up with someone else. The resentment that comes out, regardless of age, is an interesting phenomenon. The women who do stay often profess to being unhappy--there is a constant feeling of needing to escape, and constant guilt about feeling that way.

And--just to reiterate--I realize some people have made this choice and are very happy with it. And that's great--I'm glad it really does work out for some people, and that their kids are well-loved. But that will never be me, even if I decided to re-marry at some point.

So--this is why I say, ask "are you sure?" before embarking on motherhood. Don't ask me when I'm going to have kids. And don't assume wanting kids is normal female "thing". Above all--don't pressure women who want to build their own lives to embark on such a thing because it's "what women are supposed to do." It's not.

Source

Well, Saturday was a lovely day for a Rapture, and it didn't happen. Not that this surprised anyone, except perhaps for Harold Camping and his followers. If the Bible does contain any secret prophetic information, we can say one thing for certain: Camping is no Qabalist.

David Rankine (who, along with his wife Sorita D'Este, have written some of the best works on magic, grimoires, and esoterica for both a general and scholarly audience) published a quote today on his Twitter feed: “There was no Bible in any meaningful sense until after the fall of Jerusalem to the Romans in 70 CE." He cites "Ulrich", by which he presumably means Eugene Ulrich, chair of Hebrew Scripture and Theology at Notre Dame. (Ulrich wrote some rather definitive texts for Oxford University Press, among his other scholarship).

It's a very important statement, one that provides a real context for Biblical scripture. One piece of the puzzle that helps you put books like the Revelation of John in its proper place. The destruction of the Temple in 70 CE spawned a lot of apocalyptic literature and prophecy. After all, Jesus had predicted the fall of the Temple, so that gave his followers hope that the rest of his predictions were true. Of course, no other predictions did come true. And thus--the early Church began what Harold Camping's group had to begin on Sunday--routinization of charisma. A re-interpretation rather than a rejection. No one will reject something they have staked their life on.

However, even understanding this facet of human nature, it's important that good scholarship is not rejected. Most people don't know what good scholarship is, and if they haven't learned how to do real research, they probably never will. People think research is just for academic papers, but that isn't the case. If someone tells you something that could potentially change your life forever, you want to be reasonably sure that their statement is valid. For instance--in the political realm, I hear a lot about the horrible things Obama is going to do--make us all spend thousands to get "greener" homes or we can't sell them, install tracking devices in our cars, send kids to re-education camps, and--the best of all--that he was paying Hamas to come into the country. All of these are patently false. All one has to do is go to fact checking sites. Snopes is one, Factcheck.org is another, PolitFact is another. These sites have no political agenda. They find the source of the rumors, and discuss them. If it has to do with a Congressional bill, they'll post the relevant parts of the bill.

"Source" is the important word here. In the case of the Bible, I'm more likely to accept a Scriptural interpretation from someone who actually knows the language of the Bible (and that person would probably be Jewish, or a scholar in Greek or Aramaic). Hebrew is a difficult language, and often times words or letters can be interpreted in a variety of ways. The Bible is also full of puns and word-plays-- common literary devices in Hebrew writing, likely to befuddle the Biblical literalist reading the Old Testament. If the interpreting theologian is not an expert in the language, then I at least want to see that they've consulted the language experts. Often you don't have to be the expert--you just have to know who the experts are.

Historical and social context are also important. One of the best writers I've encountered in this area is Dr. Elaine Pagels of Princeton University. She's written many books, very accessible, and is mainly known for her research on the Gnostic gospels and apocryphal texts. (Here is an excellent talk she gave on the Book of Revelation) Her work is important because it provides context. The so-called "Gnostic" gospels (some of them were, some weren't, by definition) allow us to get a bigger picture of early Christianity, not just the "official" version decided in 325 CE. The gospel writers were called "evangelists", and this is not just an honorary title--the 4 canonical gospels were written for specific audiences. This is why, for instance, the Jews are portrayed as being "more responsible" for Jesus' death in one gospel, and why the Romans are more guilty in another. One was written to evangelize Jews, another to evangelize Gentiles--probably Romans who didn't like Jews, in the former case. If you're trying to sell something, you're going to look for common ground with your potential buyer.

Authorship is something else to be considered. For all the names attributed to Biblical books, we know nothing about who really wrote them. Recently, a scholar from University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill (Bart D. Ehrman, who has the title "James Gray Distinguished Professor", and is a magna cum laude Princeton graduate) wrote a book called "Forged", alleging that the many of the New Testament books were faked. When he says "faked", he means simply that they were attributed to a particular writer, when in fact they are probably not written by that writer. For instance--Paul's second letter to Timothy was not likely to have been written by Paul. For all the controversy this has generated, it's not really that controversial. One can study writing styles and samples, and determine if they were written by the same person. Ehrman says that in the early days of the Church, when it was still trying to define itself and its doctrine, lesser-known writers would make their views heard by signing the names of more well-known writers. They didn't quote the experts, they pretended to be the experts. Writing as one of Jesus' apostles, or saying you knew one of them, probably helped your case, too. People considered the source at that time as well.

Those who object to "liberal arts" Bible scholarship are the same ones who object to their children learning about other religions--they want to preserve their version of the narrative, which has more to do with them than with the Bible. It's like a mirror onto which the believer projects his or her image of the Unknown. If we believe they've found the "light", we try to ignore the shadow behind it. That is the most important thing to remember--regardless of interpretation, it's always about what we'll never really "know".

The Electric Thread

A couple of random events in the last few days have me thinking about electricity.

First--I was watching some Ghost Hunters reruns, and one of the episodes I revisited was the "Edgerly Home" episode. Mr. Edgerly was the gentleman who felt depressed--oppressed, even--and uneasy in his home. He sometimes heard footsteps, and his visiting friend saw black shadows that would suddenly disappear. The man did historical restorations for a living, and had many of the chemicals associated with his work in his house.

The end result of the investigation was not that his house was haunted, but that a number of normal factors were causing the phenomena. An area of mold in his basement, along with the chemical fumes, was one part of the problem. The other part is what is of interest--he had an open electrical box that was registering very high numbers on an EMF (electromagnetic frequency) detector. A normal household EMF reading is about 0.1 or 0.2. The electrical box spiked at 112, and even higher.

Electromagnetism can cause people to get uneasy feelings, physical side effects like nausea and skin rashes, and also to see things that aren't there. In other words, electricity can make people see "ghosts", or one version of them.

The second thing is an article I saw from PBS about a paraplegic man who was able to stand after being treated with electricity. The electric current apparently stimulated the man's nervous system. Electricity affects our bodies and our ability to physically move. Electricity animates us.

Thinking about these two things together--I started wondering about the old John Foxx phrase, "electricity and ghosts". There is a definite connection between electricity and consciousness, and electricity and the appearance of spirits.

I'm sure this is not news. But I've spent so much time reading about consciousness and the unconscious, I have to wonder about the connection between the unconscious and electricity. if spirits are manifestations of the unconscious, how do they manifest? It seems electricity has something to do with it.

We don't really know what spirits are; it's difficult (if not impossible scientifically) to prove they exist. You have to have an experience of a spirit or ghost to believe. But what are you experiencing? The "demonic" is no different--it's the same sort of thing, really. They are aspects of the psyche that manifest separately because they have no connection with your ego--they are unconscious. But are we experiencing "electricity with a personality"? How does that work? Are our personalities "electric"? Or, is the personality/attribute aspect a result of our collective symbol system interacting with something universal--and electrical--in nature?

There certainly seems to be a relationship between consciousness and electricity. I've written before about kundalini yoga and meditation. Most Eastern mediation systems (and medical practices) are based on balancing the electrical impulses in the spine, often referred to as "shakti"--and causing that electrical "consciousness" to move from the base of the spine through the major chakra centers, to the top of the head. This rise is experienced as an electrical charge throughout the body, and the unprepared body (i.e., one not proficient in yoga) may experience symptoms similar to those of high EMF exposure when they come out of their meditation.

A converse question--is the electricity we use to power our homes, our technological devices, etc. related to consciousness? Are electricity and consciousness synonymous in some way? Does electricity have a consciousness?

I did some cursory investigation of this idea, and apparently the idea of consciousness as electromagnetic has been proposed as a line of scientific inquiry, though not without objections. Seems to me it is a question worth pursuing.

Rapture

I've been hearing that the world will end on Saturday. OK, it will SORT of end. It is supposed to be the day of "Rapture", when the righteous are assumed into Heaven. The actual end of the world is supposed to take place 6 months later.

This latest apocalyptic prediction is brought to you by Harold Camping, head of California's Family Radio Ministry. Camping is not associated with any church or religious denomination; it is entirely centered around his interpretation of the Bible, and what he thinks are its prophecies. You might be surprised at his lack of Church affiliation, but really, nothing should surprise you when it comes to American religion.

In any case, Harold is sure enough of his prediction for his group to purchase large billboard ads around the country advertising the eschatological event. I've seen two distinct reactions to this prediction, besides "yeah, whatever". The first was from a Baptist minister, who criticized the prediction, saying that it was false--the Bible says that "no man shall know the day or the hour". He also felt that people already didn't take the Bible seriously, and when May 21 came and went with no event, it would just give more fodder to the anti-Bible camp, even though the prediction is Camping's, not the Bible's.

The other reaction, of course, is delight at the thought that those "saved by Jesus" will finally leave this earth, and the rest of us can loot, pillage, and party. I saw at least one reaction to one of these "post rapture looting" events on Facebook, with a guy saying, "Hey, that's disrespectful to their beliefs". While I am certainly open to anyone believing what they want, I can't help but think of the great Eugene Mirman quote, "Follow your dreams, unless your dreams are stupid." If we want to be kind, we can say that the prediction is "misguided". And Harold has no sense of history, as he is apparently unaware of all of the other "day of apocalypse" predictions that came and went. Even the Jehovah's Witnesses have stopped trying to name dates.

The whole thing is an absurdity, because it's more Biblical literalism gone wrong. (Yes, I realize that is a redundant statement.) You can support almost any point of view with the Bible; it is so disjointed and contradictory. There is not a linear narrative running through, and those reading it in this way today have no understanding of why the various books were written, or what the writers had in mind. The prophets were writing for their own groups (usually Jews on the verge of war or exile). While you might find bits of timeless wisdom in some of their sayings, they have to do with their contemporary events, not with future ones.

In any case, May 21 will come and go, I will have my garage sale, and Camping's group will either claim a Rapture occurred (though the fact that they're still here would be interesting), his radio ministry will go down the toilet, or--more than likely--his group will engage in what religion scholars call "routinization of charisma", a fancy term for "justifying your beliefs when they turn out to be wrong". If you think humans who do that are stupid--it's one of the most basic elements of human psychology. We stick to our stories, regardless of facts. Another example of humans being essentially irrational rather than rational creatures.

Speaking of future life, I mentioned Stephen Hawking's declaration that there is no Heaven in yesterday's post. Well, that pre-eminent Bible scholar Kirk Cameron (annoying actor from the 1980s TV series "Growing Pains") has declared Stephen Hawking to be unequivocally WRONG. Why? Because Hawking is like John Lennon, who said "imagine there's no Heaven", and they're both just quoting their religious beliefs. Or something like that. His argument makes no sense at all, but then again, most of his arguments are equally prosaic. I think it's funny that he says Hawking is quoting his "religious" beliefs. More than likely, it's his scientific opinion, though Hawking has no more proof of a Heaven or lack thereof than Cameron does. "Religious" belief is not the right word in Hawking's case--it's part of his narrative, what he accepts as truth a priori.

Which brings me back to science and scientific method. There is often a curious blending of religion and science that we refer to as "scientism". I've noticed that Richard Dawkins has a new book for children coming out about "truth" and "reality". This is scientism, pure and simple. Science provides us with tests and measurements, and may teach us the mechanics of nature and the universe, but whether or not they are the ultimate keepers of "truth" can be very much debated. Scientific facts are only part of truth, and reason is only a means of organizing and labeling our thoughts and perceptions. Most of our "psychical" life (meaning life of the mind) does not fit into neat categories. Just as religion should not try to use science to justify itself, science should not get into the business of interpreting religion. And religion should not be in the business of "facts". Religion is about the stories and mythologies that tie us together, and the reality of the unknown, and our terror and wonder of it. It often has little to do with "facts".

Scorpio Moon

I had a dream the other night about cats, with a Kabbalistic twist. I saw that a woman's cat had 18 kittens, and mentioned that to her. She gave me a much higher number (which I can't remember), and said, "They can have as many as 36,000". Then she lamented having to euthanize 500 of the kittens. And was now left with 4. The higher number she gave me was not 504. I have had my copy of 777 out trying to figure out the correspondences here.

This morning I woke up angry. I don't know who I was angry at; I was just angry at people's stupidity in general. I spoke to another friend later in the day, who reminded me that it was a full moon in Scorpio. He was also feeling angry that day, and attributed it to that. It's a good a theory as any.

I find that when my energy level rises, my patience decreases. I'm like a ship moving forward, full steam ahead, and I get very impatient with obstacles. Mostly I'm annoyed with myself for allowing myself to be hindered. Which is silly, but there it is. I think what underlies the feeling is the sense that I always find excuses to put off important action, and I fear that I will start doing that again. Sometimes it's OK to pour a glass of wine, kick back with some pleasure reading, and say, "Eh, leave the challenges to tomorrow." Sometimes it isn't.

Lately, I've realized that most of us know more than we think we do. We just have a way of letting people make us feel that we're stupid.

Stephen Hawking now claims there is no such place as Heaven. I'm with him on that, but he also claims there is no afterlife--it is a "fairy story" for the fearful. I'd like to see his scientific justification. Religion can't prove an afterlife, but neither can science. Psychology is the only bridge, and even that leaves more questions than answers. Something can exist externally and also be manifest because of our collective unconscious.

I believe it was Jung who said that rationality can't replace religion or spiritual belief because it is only means of organizing thoughts.

John Foxx likes to write about cities as organisms. So, this article on Serendipity, the Net, and Cities is for him. Ahem.

In the department of "things that don't go together", I bring you--the Vegan Black Metal Chef.

The H.P. Lovecraft Society is finally coming out with the film for The Whisperer in the Darkness. Currently being shown in Amsterdam, and it should be coming to Los Angeles and Seattle later this year. I am looking forward to the DVD (hopefully). Look for it.

Here is an article on how coffee, chocolate, and wine keep you cancer free. Yeah, I knew that.

And, here is a video featuring Vincent Price vs. the Bee Gees. I'm not sure who's scarier. Or if there's a film that sucks worse than this does.

On the John Bellairs page on Facebook, there has been a discussion of making "The House With a Clock in Its Walls" into a film. I think it would be horrible, especially if it was a big-budget film. There was a Vincent Price special from 1979 (mentioned in a previous blog post) featuring a short adaptation of the story. Sure enough, they tried to make Lewis Barnavelt and his friend Tarby more contemporary. The story is set in the late 1940s--they should have left it there. I can't even imagine a modern re-make. Just read the damn book. And keep Mrs. Zimmerman in the story, please. The only gripe I've ever had with Bellairs' characters is in the 3rd Barnavelt book, "The Letter, the Witch, and the Ring". Mrs. Zimmerman says she needs to consult the "Malleus Maleficarum". Who would consult that? It's a misogynistic manual of torture for Church monks. But to be fair to the late Mr. Bellairs--you can't expect him to know everything. I'm sure the title sounded neat.

Speaking of--in my host of bottom drawer treasures, I also found a bookmark that states, "Would it kill you to read a f**king book?" The image is of a young man watching TV with a bottle of something in his hand, oblivious to his surroundings, and a book being thrown at him.

And with that, I'm back to the lectures of Sigmund Freud and the detective stories of Aleister Crowley. One of these days I will get things sorted and have more organized posts.

Til then...

The Bottom Drawer

I know I'm rather bookish, but I had no idea until this week exactly how much paper I have in my house. I'm going to estimate 300 pounds. And I'm probably throwing out 250 pounds of that. Some of it is predictable stuff, like old tax returns and check stubs from 6 jobs ago. Other things are old cards and photos, some of which I probably should throw away but probably won't. And then there's the "bottom drawer papers".

The bottom drawer of my file cabinet has alway been full of oddities--articles I've clipped for various research projects, jokes, weird photos, quotes, old printed e-mails, and dot-matrix printed bibliographies. I even found some old pieces of writing in there. When the Internet was new in the late 1980s and early 1990s, I printed out a lot of things, because there really wasn't a great way to "save" e-mail. Most of my accounts were work accounts, and you're not supposed to save those kinds of things to work accounts (doesn't help when you leave the job, either).

Here is a sampling of some of the weirdness I found in my drawer:

An article from 1993 entitled, "20 naked people in car crash after police chase." Apparently they were Pentecostals who believed they had to give up everything, and cut no corners. And they had 5 naked children in the TRUNK. (That's the boot, for those of you not in the United States). The police were pretty casual about this, and they were written up for "minor traffic violations". All of them were from Texas. No, I'm not implying anything, just stating the facts.

An old bibliography on witchcraft from a local library, which is actually pretty decent.

A dot-matrix copy of "the Christian test". Sample question: "Ask for their money, all of it. Just ask for their wallet. Have them show it to you....etc.". The question references Luke 6:30, and Matthew 5:42, both verses that instruct believers to give their money away to whoever asks. If they refuse, they are not True Christians. Et cetera.

The General Final Examination. "History: Describe the history of the papacy from its origins to the present day, concentrating especially, but not exclusively, on its social, political, economic, religious and philosophical impact on Europe, Asia, America, and Africa. Be brief, concise, and specific." Or, "Music: Write a piano concerto. Orchestrate and perform it with flute and drum. You will find a piano under your seat".

A partial list of phrases that Dave Barry said would "make excellent band names". Some include, "Pinot Noir and His Nuances of Toast", "The Foliage Eaters, "The Radioactive Muskrats", and "The Flaming Salmonella Units".

An article entitled, "Do you have to love your lovers"?

A Peanuts cartoon that features Sally writing a letter. The letter says, "Dear Santa. I want a magic wand...and I want one that works".

A collection of notes I made in the late 1980s/early 1990s about working in the library Periodicals department. Noted--how people always bring 10 request slips when they need one item, and then write through the carbons on the other 9 unused slips. Also noted was how the job of separating request slips that were stuck together was going to be valuable training for my future.

A test MARC record written during a system migration that was being project managed by me. I think I was figuring out the editing function and was a tad frustrated. Here is the record:

100 1_ $a Who, Guess.
245 10 $a Test title.
260 __ $a Anytown, USA : $b Ihateunicorn Pub., $c 2070.
300 __ $a 333 p. : $b copious ill. ; $c 65 cm.
500 __ $a Why does nothing work the way it's supposed to in this system?
505 0_ $a Aggravation -- Putting out fires -- More aggravation -- Interruptions -- Even more aggravation -- 50 migration-related ways to kill yourself -- Thorazine for project managers.


An entire sheet of sticky notes with the words "Please Review", and little pictures drawn on each one. I believe this was made by one of my cataloging assistants about 10 years ago.

A quote from Aleister Crowley's Simon Iff:

"I never heard anyone talk like that before. Everyone knows it's wrong."

"In 1850 everyone knew it was wrong to protest against negro slavery. In Germany it's wrong to question the divine right of kings. In Turkey it's wrong to eat pork. In Hindustan it's wrong to eat beef. In 1500 it was wrong to say that the earth moved. In 1900 it was wrong to say it didn't. Time and space, my friend, time and space, the illusions, breeders of other illusions! Right and wrong are fashions, like women's hats".

A quote from Amma: "Self-control is never a hindrance to freedom. By observing spiritual austerities, we can enjoy lasting happiness and contentment."

A quote from George Bernard Shaw: "Religion is a great force--the only real motive force in the world; but what you fellows don't understand is that you must get a man through his own religion, and not through yours".

A "Letter to Dr. Laura" Schlessinger in response to her saying that homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22. A quote from the letter writer: "Lev. 25:44 states that I may indeed possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims this applies to Mexicans but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?"

A CNN.com article about the mayor of Inglis, Florida, who wrote a municipal proclamation evicting Satan from her town.

A bored librarian's list of quotes entitled, "Tom Swift, Gonzo Librarian." "There's a waiting list for that title" Tom said with reservations.

The resume of a Yale law school graduate who has had a psychotic meltdown.

One of my favorite fake ads ever, spoofing on Advil. It shows a woman with an anvil in her hands, about to drop it on her schlub of a husband, sitting around looking dopey with pizza boxes and beer everywhere. The caption: "One Anvil gets rid of even the worst headaches". I think I had it in my cubicle during my married days.

A Dilbert cartoon featuring Wally, the Pointy-Haired Boss, Dilbert, and Ted. Ted says, "I just found out that the committee across the hall is doing the same thing we are. All we can do now is hum 'West Side Story' and have a dance-fight."

A document with a drawing of a bear that says, "The librarians are slow. Please bear with us."

Ineffective daily affirmations: "Only a lack of imagination saves me from immobilizing myself with imaginary fears".

A Thelemic language lesson. Example: the phrase "Their camp is very independent" translates to "They're planning to overthrown the Grand Master and they've become born-again Christians".

A cartoon of a ghost reading a newspaper and talking on the phone. He says, "I'm calling about your ad...it says you're looking for someone really spiritual?"

An e-mail featuring some of Rich Hall's "Sniglets". "Disconfect: to sterilize a piece of candy you drop on the floor by blowing on it and rubbing it a little." "Telecrastination: letting the phone ring 3 times before you answer it when it's right next to you."

That's all for today. Back to cleaning out more files...I think they breed overnight.

Notebook

Once a year I have my oil company come in and clean my furnace. It’s part of my warranty, and I need to do it whether it needs it or not.

I ended up in a long conversation with the mechanic who came out to service the furnace. We started by talking about my furnace and my oil tank, and ended up discussing religion and its effects. (It’s true—no one is immune from this topic around me). He was raised as a Jehovah’s Witness, but opted to leave the religion when he was 13, which his mother okayed. A sick younger relative who died from not having a blood transfusion caused a great explosion in his family. “There’s somebody’s life and death, and what did it hinge on? Something in religion. All of that stuff is protocol when you believe, but when you’re faced with the real deal...”

What was really amazing to me was how his family responded. There were family members in the hospital with open Bibles, lashing out at each other with competing verses. Talk about a scriptural war. If anything, it gives credence what I’ve always said—the Bible is full of contradictions. You could rationalize almost any argument scripturally. At the end of our discussion, I mentioned that people have little interest in facts when it comes to their story—psychology has proven that people will believe what they want to in spite of facts. He said, “I know why that is. People love stories.” And I think he is exactly right. Humans are walking houses of stories. We run entirely on stories.

I’ve been clearing things out of my house these last two weeks, and as I went through some boxes under my bed, I found my graduate school notebooks. One of them was for a class on psychology and religious thought. I opened up to this note: “Psychoanalysis is seen to be threatening because it reduces human thought and nature. But it is threatening not because of reduction, but because it expands our understanding of our powers and responsibilities.” And a related quote: “Psychoanalysis is like a woman waiting to be seduced, but knows she will be underrated if she doesn’t offer resistance.” The unconscious likes to play hard to get. There’s no fun if it just “gives” it to you. And like a desirable man or woman, it is mysterious and not a little intimidating.

The notebook is useful, not only because it reminds me of things I’m trying to apply to current research and their sources, but it’s also a symbol of my time in graduate school and everything that surrounded it. In this class I met Alex, who was one of those male friends who tended to fill in emotional gaps that my then-husband left empty. (No, I never cheated with him, if that jumps into your mind. But we were pretty good friends). The margins of my notebook are filled with notes from Alex. He would sit next to me and write things in the margins—comments on the material, comments on other people in the class, comments on himself. One says, “I am tired and hungry and homicidal.” Another says, “I think Jung would call for a break about now...” There’s even a whole marginal discussion about Don Henley when Alex posed the question, “What is evil?” Alex was only there for a semester, then he went back to Oregon.

I notice in a section of notes about “afflictive emotions”—I have my ex-husband’s name written in the margin with exclamation points. The particular note read, “makes it difficult to tolerate unpleasant feelings or hard times.” I’m guessing this understatement was in our class discussion of Erik Erikson. I took classes on Jung in graduate school, but Erikson dominated my studies, due in no small part to my thesis advisor, with whom I took most of my courses. She was described to me as "Erikson's protege", having been mentored by him, and had even lived in the same house with he and his wife Joan. She was always hard to pin down; the school never seemed to have enough faculty in that department, and the psychology and religion program only had two full time professors. She was the teacher for the course in this notebook.

In any event, the notebook has been a boon, as I am working on a paper on Freud and Crowley. I've been more absorbed in Jungian theory all these years, and this gives me an instant refresher on Freud. It also reminds me why we keep things in general. Even the most insignificant things are symbols. Just paging through the book recalls my entire graduate religion career and everything in my life at that time. Much of it was unpleasant, and I think it's important to see some artifacts regarding the way things really were. Memory has a tendency to be selective.

A couple of days ago I stopped in briefly at a friend's house. We got into a discussion of angels, demons, and spirits. At one point in the discussion, she said to me, "It's all symbols, isn't it? Our entire life is symbols." A true statement that appears reductive, but it is not. In my notes on Carol Gilligan, I have written down: "without a theory of symbolization, it's tough to talk about what's going on."

And now I think I'd better go to work before I get into a discussion of semantics and postmodernism...

Goetia on Mother's Day

I passed a sign today on the way into New York City: "Lincoln: great President, crappy tunnel." Indeed.

I went into New York today for a workshop on Goetia with Lon Milo DuQuette. Lon has that gift of imparting real learning and information while being entertaining at the same time.

Before I get into that, no doubt some of you are wondering about Mother's Day. Did I blow off my Mom for Lon Milo DuQuette? Actually, no. We went to dinner on Saturday night, and I visited her on Sunday morning before catching my train. She told me this wonderful story: In the early years of her marriage to my father, they were out shopping and looking at flowers. My mother saw some daffodils, and told my father, "Oh, we should get these for your mother." My father replied, "Oh no. Daffodils aren't good enough for my mother." Fast forward to Mother's Day. My mother was in the kitchen visiting with my aunt and uncle. My father walked in with--daffodils. He said, "Happy Mother's Day. These are for you." My mother did not forget that these were not "good enough" for his mother. She laughs about it now.

As for me, the cat didn't get me anything for Mother's Day. Not even a dead mouse. But he has the sniffles, so I'm assuming he's distracted.

Back to Lon's workshop. I had lots of questions about Goetia. Why would someone invoke demons? It didn't make a whole lot of sense to me. I'm mired in the imagery of the unconscious, so I was sure it had something to do with that. But the notion of pacts with evil spirits is a weird idea. And if it goes wrong, what does one do? I didn't have to ask Lon a single question, and he answered all of these.

By drawing on his own experiences, and explaining things with very useful metaphors, he clarified Goetia for me in a way that other writers have not. The best metaphor had to do with machinery. He started with Solomon. In the Bible, Solomon is called upon to build the perfect Temple for the Most High. He appeals to Jehovah, as he has no idea how to begin such an operation, and asks him for the wisdom to build the Temple and rule his people. God responds by giving him the wisdom, and as part of that he gives him the "key" to his Temple building labor union. This happens to be 72 legions of demons. Demons are the heavy-lifters of the universe, and are as much a part of things as anything else. He drew comparisons with the Titans in ancient Greek mythology--these are a race of giants. (I think the Bible also has a race of giants--nephilim--the spawn of human women and angels. It's the reason for the Great Flood--God wants to destroy them). Psychologically, demons are our "problems". They are externally real in some sense, but don't manifest except through our weaknesses. Solomonic Goetic operations often allow the operator to confront their own weaknesses, and stand up to them. The idea of making a "pact" with them is absurd--you don't make "pacts" with your problems.

But I have not told you the brilliant metaphor. He compares demonic evocation to operating heavy machinery--bulldozers, backhoes, Caterpillar equipment. If you turn them on and let them run amok with no operator, they will charge along and destroy things. However, if properly operated, they can build useful structures. A woman in class raised her hand and asked, "Is the only difference between angels and demons that angels already have a job?" And Lon laughed and said we could end class with that comment. (We didn't, but it summed up a lot). Angels apparently are connected with specific forces. Demons have to be assigned tasks. They are the blind, chaotic (Qlipotic) forces of the universe, but they are part of it nonetheless.

Psychologically, the demonic relates to our Shadow. It is the weak areas of our psyche, and performing evocations is one way to confront these weak areas. I would still submit that it's not for everyone, but giving it a psychological context makes it less fearsome. The demonic are the things we do to ourselves to limit ourselves. And we can tell it "no" and not give in to it. And it will generally say, "okay".

Lon also talked about an experience where he was asked to exorcize a school building, and this answered my other question, because he described how he went about the operation, and what he confronted as a result. Every evocation is a confrontation with oneself and one's weakness. Each one is like an initiation.

I would recommend Lon's book, "Low Magick: It's All in Your Head...You Just Have No Idea How Big Your Head Is" for more discussion of Goetic operations. I can say that I learned a lot.

Normal

I drove to work yesterday morning and saw a sign that said "Organic Insect Buster". I thought it said "Organic Insect Butter" before a second look.

I wasn't the only one misplacing letters. I posted a link from Mental Floss magazine, and a friend thought it said "Mental Loss". As she said, why advertise the fact by buying a magazine?

I stare at my computer, and words blur before my eyes. I do not wish to admit that I am tired. My eyes are tired; my spirit is not. I look under my shirt, at the remains of my surgical incision. It curves around my nipple like a smile. I am tempted to draw eyes on the other side of my nipple, and make a smiley face. I resist the urge.

I finished an article yesterday evening on magical operations and the Jungian concept of the collective unconscious. I was fishing about for a particular reference, and came across a Catholic catechism site--not the official Vatican site, but clearly one of those Catholic community sites. I glanced at a list of questions from "laity"; they were all the same kinds of sniveling questions I heard when Father Lampert (the exorcist) spoke at Montclair State. "Father, is it true that all yoga practitioners are really devil worshippers?" That sort of thing. With equally bad and ignorant responses. I want to smack the questioners in the face and say, "wake up and stop being an idiot, already!" I want to double-smack the answerers, and say, "Stop feeding people's fear of the unknown!"

Living on the fringes means you have few friends, and are largely invisible. I find myself surprised at certain behaviors of others, behaviors that indicate that I am largely invisible to them. I remind myself that I shouldn't be surprised. This isn't new. I don't live a life that most people I interact with regularly can relate to. Most people in my demographic are married with kids, and discussing normal married-with-kids kind of stuff. They read mainstream books and go to mainstream movies. Even if they're a little off the beaten path, the kinds of things that interest me (largely forbidden, scary, and strange things) don't interest them at all. Similarly, I can't relate to their lifestyle, and can't speak to their issues with personal experience. I don't spend a lot of time with people who don't share my interests, so why should they?

Still, there are days when you crave ordinary conversation, and do mundane things to keep yourself from floating away. Worlds with too many words and thoughts get mixed up, and it's hard to know what's actual and what's potential. Wesley Stace said at the recent WAMFEST that the writing life is a lonely life. You spend a lot of time with your thoughts and ideas.

My non-writing time is often taken up with mundane tasks--keeping up with the housework and the yard, doing the washing, buying groceries, et cetera. Some weekends I am very tired and not in the mood to do all these things. My friends will tell me, "you don't HAVE to do those things." What they don't realize is that I DO have to do those things. I can't tolerate disorder in my life. Sure, to a certain degree, there is a creative chaos that can be wonderful. But not in my house. The bed is made every morning, the sink is never full of dishes, floors are regularly vacuumed and washed, things have to be put away. My home is my oasis, the place where I do my creative work, and where I get away from the rat race. If it's in disarray, then I become depressed. If my relaxation place is also overwhelmed by chaos, then so am I. I operate knowing there's a place to put my feet if my arms get tired.

My love life has a similar psychological trend. I find love, sex, and relationships to be infinitely more complicated than necessary. It's simple for me--either I'm attracted and would take the risk, or I don't. Most of the time I don't. I meet lots of men who I think are terribly interesting and make wonderful friends, but I'm not feeling the magnetism. I hate the social dictum that says that a woman's involvement with a man must necessarily be of a romantic or sexual nature. And the one that says a woman doesn't travel or do anything social alone. I try not to pressure others or put any expectations on them, and I have to say that I like it when others do the same.

I had a dream about a month ago, in which a voice said to me, "You are Sophia, and create the world alone." I was staring at a lush forest behind a waterfall.

I had lunch a couple of weeks ago with one of my former students. He happens to live alone as well, and he says it can be just as difficult for men as for women. The world is designed with the assumption that people live in pairs or groups. Ironically--people I encounter every day live in their own worlds. The social structure doesn't match the social reality. I am suspicious of people who are too ready to accept me as their best friend on sight--they're either drunk or belong to a cult-like Christian group. It's like men who tell you they love you after talking to you for 5 minutes. Somehow I don't accept their sincerity. At the same time, there is something disturbing about the lack of awareness of others that people demonstrate every day. There has to be a happy medium somewhere.

Nature is beautiful right now, and the weather is perfect, but the pollen is lethal. I am ever so sleepy. Even the cat is not immune; I hear him snuffling away. Spring is like an hallucination, all the pretty colors viewed through a haze. Tomorrow is Mother's Day, but I'm celebrating it with my mother this evening. Tomorrow I go to New York for a workshop downtown with Lon Milo DuQuette. It is on Goetia, which I have been reading about extensively, so I am most interested to hear what Lon has to say.

For now, I am going to take a nap--and then a long walk.

Amber

On Friday May 6 (tomorrow), "Animus" will be published in Danse Macabre magazine. This is story 5 in the archetype series.

Danse Macabre May Issue Publicity

I finally received my copy of Geosophia Volume 1 from Scarlet Imprint Press. I'd mentioned this book by Jake Stratton Kent in my post on Goetia and Vibration. I am reading this book amid a flurry of Ficino, Agrippa, and Paracelsus. Among the many things I am learning from this book, I learned that the Greek word elektron means "amber". Yes, this is the root of Electra, electron, and electricity. Amber (or elektron) is so called because its yellow color is reminiscent of the sun. The sun is the source of all life--at least it was thought to be by the ancient philosophers. Amber, in effect, bottles up the sun and its energy--it's captured fire. And this was the word chosen to represent the currents of energy that permeate everything.

I've often wondered about the connection between electricity and the paranormal. John Foxx pointed out once that our inventions leading to the use of electricity came from experiments in spiritualism and spirit contact. Paranormal investigators use electromagnetic frequency readers, and often report a spike in electrical energy when paranormal events occur, energy that cannot be attributed to another natural or man-made source. Electricity is said to drive consciousness. Kundalini meditation is based on the ancient Hindu ideas about "shakti", which is the electrical energy of our consciousness, moving through our spine through chakras, or energy centers. Most women know about hormonal rises and drops, which can lead to energy drain, hot or cold flashes, and mood swings. I've been able to track my own bad moods to a substantial drop in energy. In the 1960s and 1970s there was a lot of talk about the pineal gland and its electrical effects,especially during adolescence. Poltergeist activity is thought to center around the energy generated from this gland when hormones are becoming activated during puberty. It doesn't happen to everyone, or at least it doesn't manifest as external phenomena in everyone. But the connection between "mind and matter" is interesting, and not explored enough anymore.

Nonetheless, it has always been clear to me that this is why one must be careful when playing with the energy of consciousness. I've suggested before that bursts of consciousness are like sticking your finger in an electrical socket, and this is likely to be more literally than metaphorically true. Deep kundalini meditations can leave you with headaches, body aches, and nausea--similar to electrical shock, if your body isn't prepared for the experience through yoga. You may also be left with this feeling after hours in front of a genuine guru or satguru. A real guru is an emanation of perfect consciousness, and that emanation is experienced as electrical energy.

This is also the reason that Hinduism tends to steer the average householder away from Kali worship. Kali is pure electrical consciousness in its rawest form, and invoking that energy regularly is like cleaning your house with a blowtorch. You don't want to burn it down unless you're really ready to renounce the world and the ego. Or, you have to know how to handle the energy with care. Most of us are not experts. The magician is one who strives to be an expert in handling and commanding pure energy.

Cultural and collective evidence certainly does more than suggest a connection between what we call "spirit" or perhaps "soul" and electricity. But since everything is electrical, including our thoughts, it still doesn't answer the question of whether or not spirit manifestation is a phenomena that is "separate" from us or part of our unconscious psychology. Do we "see" things because the mind is picking up on unusual or intense pockets of electromagnetism, or are these separate electrical beings with a consciousness of their own? In some larger sense all consciousness is connected, but does such a thing have an identity or ego? Is it a fragment of one, unrelated to the "soul" or "spirit" of a person?

For more thoughts on electrical beings, I recommend John Foxx's recent blog posts on Grey Energy vs. Green Energy (Thought Experiment 1 and Thought Experiment 2).

Symbol versus Function Take Two

I saw two headlines this morning. The first said, "The world is safer" (The Philadelphia Inquirer). The one immediately underneath it said, "TSA on Security Alert after Bin Laden Death". Which I think nicely sums up everything that needs to be said about the death of Osama Bin Laden. It's hard to tell who's delusional--the press or the TSA. I'll put my money on the press. It's entirely possible that taking out Bin Laden will take some of the wind out of al Qaeda's sails. It's also possible that we'll see a resurgence in terrorist activity.

With regards to the current celebrating over Bin Laden's death, a lot of people are disturbed about the celebrating of an event like death. When it comes to killing, two wrongs don't necessarily make a right. On the other hand, as a Facebook friend put it, "Bin Laden was not a Muslim leader; he was a mass murderer". Those who lost someone in the World Trade Center attacks almost 10 years ago may feel a sense of relief or justice. Regardless of viewpoint, the death of Bin Laden is the second example in less than a week of symbol preceding function. I mentioned it in my last post in connection with the royal wedding, and it applies here, too.

On some shadowy level, all of us have the potential to be hateful, all of us have the potential to kill. It's innate in human nature; it's innate in life. Life on the most basic biological level is killing and eating. But that's just a small part of what drives celebration over death. In this case, Bin Laden had become a symbol of fear. He was a symbol of America under attack, of Muslim fundamentalism at its worst, of everything that is supposed to be the antithesis of national values. He has ceased to be human in the collective mind. Killing the source of fear brings about a collective psychological relief. It doesn't matter that there are other terrorists out there. It doesn't matter that al Qaeda is likely to continue its existence, with other extremists. It doesn't matter that someone else could gain prominence and be like Bin Laden. Facts DON'T matter when it comes to the collective psyche. It's the old scapegoat ritual, where all of the sins of a community are symbolically put into an animal, and that animal is either killed or banished. If you think ritual doesn't count for anything in the 21st century, think again. We've just participated.

I'm not interested in delving into the ethics of the situation. This is simply the psychological fact, regardless of where one stands on such killing, on war, and on life. Your personal ethics will naturally dictate your response to the event. NPR ran an article today asking, "Is it wrong to celebrate Bin Laden's death?" Certainly it is an ethical conundrum for those who believe killing is wrong under any circumstances. They have to struggle with the collective response.

I would suggest that sometimes, to choose life means choosing death. They're not as mutually exclusive as you would think. You can give that some thought.

As for me, I need to get ready for work. I've been trying to cram too much into my days, and it tends to make me irritable. I don't like when my sense of ambition lags behind my growing to-do list. The cat has worked hard at being helpful, sitting in the middle of piles of papers while I'm working, and hiding under the sofa to make sneak attacks when I walk by. Now he is contentedly washing his face while simultaneously watching for mice in the corner of the living room. Apparently he is much better at multitasking than I am.

Wedding

So, today was the Royal Wedding in London. No, I did not fly over to see the fanfare; only John Foxx is worthy of a $600-$1000 plane ticket. I did, however, catch a bit of it on Channel 13 as I was getting ready for work. The whole phenomenon raises some interesting questions.

The first and most obvious question is why they do it at all. Why is there still a monarchy in Great Britain? Their political duties are largely ceremonial, and they’re really a wealthy family being kept in zoo-like conditions. They are expected to behave in a certain way that is somewhat less than human, and ironically, they are held up as being better than other humans (they are “royalty”, others are “commoners”). This is because they are living symbols.

I like this example because it demonstrates something that I have great difficulty explaining in a “rational” sense—the force of symbol over function. The British monarchy is a symbol of British history, which is a huge force, not only for citizens, but for the world. They are an archetype unto themselves, and even though there’s no functional reason for them to be there (other than tourism, perhaps), they are still supported. You will always hear an outcry against getting rid of the monarchy when it is suggested. State occasions are loaded with symbol, and the royal weddings are the ultimate symbol—they bring together the notion of union/conjunctio (the marriage) with the religious symbolism of a place like Westminster Abbey (2000 years of Christian symbolism), with the royal symbols that carry hundreds of years of British history. It’s like an orgasm for the unconscious. People react to it in a very emotional manner—either they are very excited, or they are very opposed. Either way, it has an effect on British citizens, and on others around the world as well.

Americans have a real love affair with British royalty. They just love the aesthetics of the beautiful palaces, decorations, and regalia. They love the archetypal notion of being a “queen” or a “prince” or a “princess”—anything with a title, really. And they can do this easily because they are outside the system. (I say “they” even though I’m American, because I’m not really that bowled over by all of it, though I can appreciate the aesthetics and symbolism of the whole thing). It’s very much romanticized.

For the British, it’s a different story. Certainly the monarchy has its staunch supporters. But among regular middle class and working class people, the impression of the monarchy and their feelings about it may be rather different. Since the industrial revolution, Britain has had quite a violent history of class warfare—parallel in some respects to what went on in the United States in the early 20th century with the beginnings of the labor movement, but much more intense—and going on for a much longer time. There was a reason punks were angry at the time of the Queen’s first jubilee in 1976. All this money spent on fanfare when there was poverty, unemployment, and scarce resources. The symbolism of the royalty affects them as much as anyone else—you almost can’t help it if you are of European descent at all. But the British often struggle with that archetype versus the resentment over fiscal realities.

As I was watching the motorcade from Buckingham Palace on the television, one of the female British commentators made the statement, “Michael Middleton must be so proud of his daughter, being the son of a Yorkshire pilot, and coming to this.” Since this is a bit unclear, let me re-state: Mr. Middleton is the son of a Yorkshire pilot. Now he is part of the aristocracy, due to his daughter's marriage. I think I threw up a little in my mouth. It’s an illustration of something that I don’t like about the UK—a caste-like class distinction. It is accepted that what one’s parents did determines one’s place in society, regardless of anything that person may have achieved on their own. It’s as if feudalism never died out, and we’re still in the era in modern Europe where one can only change their social status by the partner they choose. And even still, that person is considered to occupy a “lesser” place, whether that is conveyed overtly or subtly.

It’s particularly offensive to me as an American, partially because of our own collective mythology in this country. In America, the idea is that anyone can become successful if they work hard enough. This is utter nonsense, but it does permeate the elementary ideas of our culture. As an idea, it has its advantages and disadvantages, like any myth. It can prompt someone to overcome difficult circumstances. As we are seeing in this country today—it can also be an excuse to disenfranchise those who are not rich, by suggesting they have not been hugely successful because they are “lazy” and “entitled”. All myths have a dark side. And no one should be fooled into thinking there’s total equality in this country—anyone who is not white, male, and Protestant (and wealthy) has a real set of challenges to deal with if they occupy any position of authority. But the British love to come here—as I was once told, coming to America for the common British person is like losing 15 pounds right off—the weight of “hereditary (and geographic) racism”.

When John Foxx visited New York in November of 2009, I had someone ask me what Americans thought of his Northern accent. I laughed, because the average American can’t tell the difference between a Lancashire accent and a posh London accent. For that matter, Americans can’t tell the difference between English, Irish, and Scottish accents. It’s all “British” and all wonderful to them. (Of course, the Scots and the Irish are often offended by being lumped in with the English). Americans don’t care. If you have a British accent, they love you. It may be the most hated accent other places in the world, but not here. The Revolutionary War and the War of 1812 have been long forgiven. I happen to love John’s Chorley accent, but it subjects him to a lot of prejudice at home (which he has indicated in interviews, and is evident in the way many English interviewers talk about him). Americans don’t get that—it seems stupid to treat someone differently because of their accent. And I’ll go out on a limb and say we’re right for once—it is stupid. Not that we don’t discriminate and judge in other ways. Humans are funny that way.

In any case, the wedding fanfare was colorful and interesting, and I’m very glad the British got a bank holiday out of it. I hope the royal supporters and detractors both had a good day, and if you’re one of those obsessed people that bought a Kate and William commemorative refrigerator, may I suggest you get professional help.

WAMFEST at FDU: Visconti, Marsh, Escovedo. And, Thoughts on Association

After work today, I went to the first event in Wesley Stace's (John Wesley Harding's) "WAMFEST" for this year. WAMFEST is a remarkable musical and literary event that takes place at Fairleigh Dickinson University every year. You can check out the WAMFEST blog here.

This event featured Alejandro Escovedo and his band, rock critic Dave Marsh, and superstar producer Tony Visconti. The whole event was amazing--Escovedo is an amazing musician, and I say that as someone who is not a particular fan of his genre, which is sort of a rock/country kind of thing. (That may be unfair, but take it as a loose interpretation). He was produced by Visconti, who spoke about the production process with Escovedo, and compared it to the experience of producing acts like David Bowie and T.Rex. If Escovedo did a very simple tune live, Visconti explained how he would suggest certain chord changes to Escovedo to bring out the chorus and other features of the song, to make it less like a song with "campfire chords". They played two different versions of the same song, to demonstrate how they sounded pre and post production. It was fascinating.

There was a question that I wanted to ask Tony Visconti, but they took 3 questions, and there wasn't time for another. I wondered how easily he could switch between genres--from Marc Bolan's initial "hippy" phase, to the electric glam rock, to the R&B of Bowie's "Young Americans", to the music of someone like Alejandro Escovedo. I didn't get to ask him, but my friend and colleague Harry suggested to me that a good producer is probably a good facilitator. They should be open to what the artist is doing, and go with the flow. Suggestions ought to enhance the sound, not totally change it to something inauthentic.

They ended the event with a rendition of "All the Young Dudes", which you may remember as the hit song for Mott the Hoople. This was an emotional choice for me, as this song makes me cry. Since I've driven home, I've debated whether or not I should publicly say why. I've concluded that I should, as it's an excellent illustration of how music has an impact because it is associated with much bigger things, in spite of its original intention. Literature can have a similar effect, but sound can make a world of difference.

I will start by telling you that "All the Young Dudes" reminds me of my brother, even though I have no memory of my brother being a particular fan of this song, or ever playing it in my presence. My brother died of AIDS at the age of 23. It's funny to even mention that, as we were strictly instructed to remain hush-hush about the cause of death (which ended up being complications from pneumonia). The reason I was given was, "there are people who would burn our house down if they knew." To which I say with all great sincerity, to such people, if such people are out there: Fuck you and go to hell.

"All the Young Dudes" is clearly a song relating to gay culture, and there is a sadness to it, as it definitely has a minor key in its notes. Thank God they didn't have an organ or other synthesizer there, because if I heard the synth part I really would have lost it. Being of a somewhat "English" temperament, I'm rather embarrassed by public displays of emotion. I'm not interested in carrying on in front of others.

As I mentioned, my brother never showed an affinity for this song. He liked the kind of disco/techno music that was being played at the Palladium and Studio 54 in the early 1980s. I think my association with this song must have come from a documentary, or some event, where I heard this song and connected it with him.

But it's bigger than just him. I don't tend to dwell on death. To me, to mourn a person too long is an act of selfishness. (I apologize if I offend anyone with that statement). I feel that if I care about the person, I let them go, and let them move on. I say that as a spiritual person. If I hang on, then they may hang on for my account. There's no reason they should do this. I need to contend with my own void, and use it as a learning experience.

It's more about the bullshit he put up with as a gay man coming out in the early 1980s. About the prejudice and intolerance shown by his job, and even by members of our family. The lasting impact this has had on my mother, which has had a lasting negative impact on family relations. It was destructive in many ways, and did not need to be. It was because people are stupid and fearful and prejudiced. That makes me sad and angry. I include myself in this, because I am human and not immune to bad behavior. The song has a bit of fight to it, and I suppose it makes me think of fighting prejudice, and loving yourself in spite of the fact that society does not accept you. The fact that society is this way makes me cry. Freedom is something I value above all else, and I don't like to see others limited or deprived of it, for reasons spoken or unspoken.

So, if I read this over, I say "Wow". One song reminiscent of one event remembered vaguely triggers a whole world of symbolism and association. That's how powerful the unconscious is. I don't think about these things every day. But it's clear that they still affect me.

Ground

Spring has taken us by surprise. The weather outside is often damp and chilly, yet everything is blooming. Now that oil is becoming obscenely priced, I am looking forward to the days when I can turn off the heat and open the windows in the house.

This week I turned 39. I also had a tumor removed from my left breast. I have not called about the pathology, but it seems certain that the tumor was benign. As my sister noted, "If it wasn't, you definitely would have heard by now." Besides--the nurse that did the ultrasound, the doctor that stuck a wire through the tumor using ultrasound, and the nurse that did the subsequent mammogram all told me that they could see it was benign, so I am satisfied that it is. I will see the doctor next week.

Needless to say, this is why I've been quiet on the blogging front. I'd hoped to do more while I was home recovering, but I spent more time sleeping and reading. The surgery wasn't too painful (except when they did the mammogram while the wire was in my chest), but my body was traumatized nonetheless. Hence, the rest of me felt equally traumatized, and not with worry. The old cliche is that idle hands are the devil's workshop; in my case, you can replace "hands" with "brains". It's like getting fitted for new glasses; some things come sharply into focus, other things become blurry. Things that were uncertain before become even more uncertain, and somehow nothing is familiar anymore. You start to feel like you are shimmering and disappearing. All is forgotten, there are only the afterthoughts.

At such times, it is necessary to ground. When the brain starts acting like the air traffic controllers that are talking on their cell phones and watching movies instead of helping planes land, it's time to get practical and focused. The brain is a filter, designed to keep one from becoming overwhelmed. Sometimes it has to be beaten into shape. (Figuratively speaking, of course.)

I was excited to learn that my nephew ordered these for my birthday. They are chocolate Cthulhus. They haven't come yet, and that's a good thing; I haven't decided whether I want to eat them or just admire them. My week has been rather Lovecraftian. I was reading Jung's writings on Paracelsus, the Renaissance physician and magician. His discussion of the filius regius somehow reminded me of the Cthulhu mythos, though I'm not sure that's entirely accurate; the filius regius is that "king" hiding in the depths, that which is worth risking destruction and chaos to bring to light. Lovecraft suggested the opposite--that we should seek the peace and safety of a dark age. Of course, Lovecraft lived in rapt terror of the unconscious, and was not interested in risking himself to confront it.

Paracelsus talks about the lumens naturae, which is the Divine Spark in humans. It is a light within the darkness, that actually self-illuminates the darkness. Jung suggests that we need to find the illumination in the darkness in order to have the sense of peace and security that comes from awareness. The trouble is that you have a lot of groping in the darkness before you find it, and you could lose your way. Hence the need to keep a foot in awareness. On the ground.

The Miskatonic Books blog noted a great find this week--a postcard found in some old Arkham House books written by H.P. Lovecraft to Clark Ashton Smith. The postcard is difficult to read in the scan on the blog, but I am told that Lovecraft appears to be speaking about Aleister Crowley, and refers to him as a "queer duck". Probably one of the nicer things he was called in his lifetime.

My sister has two pet ducks; one of them died suddenly on Monday. Another friend of mine lost her sister-in-law over the weekend, at the young age of 41. I learned today that two of my co-workers lost a parent and a grandparent respectively. Death knows no season; it is the only certain thing. April has been a death-month for many of my friends. It reminds me that things do not stay the same, and indeed they are not the same. Situations and circumstances also die. Then there is decay, followed by new birth. In between there is a void, an unknown. Here too, it is necessary for the living to ground.

Grounding should not be about wealth and worldly business. Grounding should be about connecting to nature. Jung talks about science and technology, and how our insistence on scientific method as the determiner of truth has had a negative impact on the psyche. It is necessary to remind ourselves that we are part of a larger system. And then to get out of our own way.