Trials of the Magi

December 15, 2011

Once upon a time the Freemasons had this initiatory ritual. Basically the initiate would be blindfolded and led into a room. One of the senior Masons would then put a handgun up to his head, and ask him if he was afraid of death. The initiate was expected to say no, and after that the senior Mason would pull the trigger.

Of course the gun wasn’t loaded, so the initiate would survive the ordeal. If the initiate knows the gun isn’t loaded, it seems like a stupid little game, and that’s all it really is. If the initiate thinks the gun is loaded though, then it starts to seem more like a cruel hazing ritual, but it’s actually a true initiation ritual, and an example of the sorts of trials a magus must go through.

Usually early in our careers as magicians we are all given these trials to overcome. Either, as with the Freemasons, they are done by senior group members or teachers in order to prepare us for what lies ahead, or we receive them in a more spiritual way. These trials are important, and hopefully all magicians receive them. These trials remove our fears, so we can operate magically, and make us strong enough so that the spiritual world doesn’t break us.

With the Freemason ritual, in particular, the point is to desensitize someone and remove their fear of death. Magical workings can become very scary things. There’s a lot out there that can kill you. Many magicians deal with these scary things by becoming so afraid they use numerous unnecessary protections in their operations and never really push themselves in their magical practice. These magicians never seem to get anywhere with their practice, and miss out on a good deal of what magick has to offer.

Once a person learns about the spiritual world, that fear can make this world a very frightening one to live in. They now know that there are powerful and horrible spirits out there that can at any time enter their home and kill them without repercussions, and there’s not much out there to defend them from this. They then spend their lives in anxiety and fear trying to protect themselves, or they become born again Christians.

The metaphysical universe, as practicing magicians see it, is not a very comforting and protective place. It’s a place where different spirits are attacking each other, and different magicians are attacking each other, and good or evil doesn’t determine the victory, but rather whoever’s strongest. The universe is not weighted towards good. There is no all mighty God looking out for his children, and saying a name, such as Jesus Christ, holds no special power over the spirits. The metaphysical universe is a mortally dangerous place, and we’re cast out there, pretty much alone, to survive on whatever inner-strength and wits we might possess.

Christianity meanwhile offers a safe-haven from all of this. There is an all mighty god, who is good and righteous, and he loves you and wants to protect you. Whenever things get to the point that a person can’t handle them, they can always turn to God for protection and aid. That’s why so many magicians turn to Christianity after their first bad experience. The church offers them safety.

The Freemason ritual is meant to force the initiate to face death, to overcome their fear of it, and show them that even all alone they can survive it. The next time the initiate is put into mortal danger, it’s not going to be as bad. All of that fear and anxiety is going to be washed away, and they’ll be able to practice their magic without worrying about what might happen to them.

That’s great if you have a fear of death, but not all of us fear death. For some of us, there are things far worse than death, and so our individual trials need to deal with those issues too.

When I was first starting out, I underwent a spiritual trial I can still remember because it was so emotionally scarring. I was playing around with some new found power, putting certain energies out and astrally projecting and seeing what I could find. That night I think I was seeing if I could attract a potential date to me and meet them on the astral. What I got instead was horrific.

Eventually I gave up with what I was trying to do and just fell asleep, and I ended up in a super-vivid dream. Those aren’t too uncommon for me. Those are the dreams where I can accurately smell, and taste, and feel every small thing around me. This one though felt even more real than my normal super-vivid dreams.

In my dream I was me, but I had a compulsion I couldn’t quite control, and I was forced to act upon it. The compulsion was a kind of necrophilia. I had two dead bodies hidden away in two different buildings, and I couldn’t help but move back and forth from one to the other and then having sex with them.

Some of you might be thinking of pale white recently dead bodies, and that probably doesn’t seem so bad, but that’s not what I’m talking about. These bodies were completely unpreserved, and probably months or more old. They were decaying, they smelled and tasted putrid, and insects were running through them.

Through out the dream I was terrified that I would get caught doing what I was doing, and I was really ashamed of it, but still I had to do it. The actual sexual experience was beyond horrific. It’s still the most disgusting thing I could possibly imagine, and before this dream I couldn’t even imagine something like this. Worse for me was that through out the dream I wanted to be having this sort of sex. I can’t remember how many times I had sex during that dream, but it was a lot.

I woke up from that dream a complete mess. I felt so sick right afterwards. Luckily I was still with my teacher then, so I at least had some help in recovering from what happened. A lot of people told me to write this off as just being a dream. I knew back then that it wasn’t just a dream, but I was already telling myself it was. That thought in my head that maybe it was just a dream was the only thing that stopped me from curling up in a fetal position and mumbling insanely for the rest of my life.

I was emotionally scarred by the whole experience. To be honest, it very nearly broke me. But I recovered from it, and now I’m stronger for it. In fact I was so scarred from that experience that I’m desensitized to anything else the universe might throw at me.

Some gross and yucky spirit wants to rape me? It’s not going to be that bad, sex with dead bodies was worse. I’m not afraid of going to prison and being gang raped there either, as many men are, because that’s still not as bad as sex with dead bodies (or even yucky spirits). It’s not just sex things though, it’s any kind of gross, disgusting thing. I’m more than happy to walk through raw sewage or an adult theater filled with human secretions, and the spiritual world equivalents of these places, because it’s still not as bad as sex with dead bodies.

There is nothing that can be done to me or shown to me that can ever scar me or break me, because it will never be as bad as that dream was. Even that dream has lost a lot of its edge, because I survived it, and I know I can survive it.

That was one of my trials. It was a very horrible one, but I’m glad it happened. I’ve become extraordinarily resilient because of it. The horrible things out there don’t scare me, and I can go right on with my life even after having a horrible or gross experience.

I’m relating my personal experience, and the Freemason ritual, to give some examples of what these trials look like, so they can be properly identified. They are usually very horrible and scarring things, and one of the not so fun parts of magic. They’re a necessity though, and ultimately a good thing, and something we, as magicians, should embrace. It’s a thing that makes us stronger, and makes us strong enough to reach our full potential in performing magical operations.

As an aside, the next time you’re in Walt Disney Land, take a ride on Mr Toad’s Wild Ride, and all the while think about the Freemason ritual (Disney himself was a Mason, and there’s a theory that the original park rides were meant to introduce children to Masonic ideas).

Mood And Magic

November 29, 2011

I had a really bad year once. I don’t mean bad like I went goth or started listening to nothing but Supertramp, but I had about a year where I wasn’t feeling very happy. It was just a jumble of events that kept occurring which were sad, or depressing, or stressful. It was a lot of things, and its not like I just broke down and had a nervous breakdown one day. But slowly, and very gradually, my mood shifted to being not so pleasant.

During this time my spirituality started to change. I started seeing spirits less and less, and eventually not at all. I stopped hearing them when they talked too. My ability to sense energy started to diminish. I could still notice the energy movements directly around me, but it took effort, and I couldn’t feel all that much.

I could still gather up information, but I had to forcibly channel, and meditate, and concentrate. I could still speak with specific spirits, but I had to try really hard, and what I heard came in really weak.

Magically, I could still do magic, I could still fall back on my favorite rituals, but it was much more difficult, and I was succeeding less and less. Psionic magic started to become very difficult. I used to sometimes accidently make things happen by just wanting them, and that spontaneous ability seemed to leave me.

Everything seemed to be effected, including things like divination, astral projection, and glamours.

I wasn’t completely defenseless, and I wasn’t completely stripped of my magical ability. I could still cast a spell or jump into a witch war if I had to, but that sort of stuff took a lot of effort, and I was far weaker than I remembered being.

It happened so gradually, I didn’t even notice it happening at first, and by the time I did start to notice, I had started to forget the way I used to be.

And when that happened, it sparked some doubt in me. Maybe my spiritual beliefs were all fantasies or delusions. Maybe I am, or was, a seriously disturbed individual. All of these things I had memories of seeing and feeling, I wasn’t feeling anymore, and I was starting to wonder if I ever really did.

Then I had a really good day. It was actually a good week that culminated into a really good day. I remember visiting the park that night, and I felt everything. It was a large park, and I could feel every blade of grass and animal and insect in the place. And every person, including the girl I went with. And I knew everything each of them was feeling, and what they all felt like on the inside, spiritually speaking. In the same way, I could feel of the spirits there too. I could see them walking around, and I could talk to them if I wanted too. The entire park was a sensual overload.

And my mind, my mind just opened up all of a sudden. I still knew things, but I didn’t know how. There was a fogginess in my head, and stuff would just sort of come out of that. But now that fog was lifted, and it was like I suddenly had multiple minds that were hidden behind that fog, and now I could see how they were working and how everything was figured out logically. I felt like I had become some sort of genius.

And that’s when I remembered that this is what it should feel like to be me. I should be living in that sensory overload, able to feel the entire universe around me. And my mind should be working at that higher level. I shouldn’t just know things, but I should be able to see how I’m figuring them out. I should feel my higher connections. Energy should be pouring out of me. I should be seeing, and interacting, with dozens of spirits every day. And my life should be so spiritual that it seems normal to me, and I never have any reason to doubt its reality.

I realized that something had been seriously wrong with me, and at the same time any spiritual doubt I may have had was wiped away.

I’m not telling this story to brag, or to try to gain sympathy for my plight, but to share the lesson of it all:

The better your mood, the more spiritually adept you are.

We have higher bodies. After our physical and astral bodies, both of which we’re already very connected to, we have our mental body, or Holy Guardian Angel. Our connection to this body still exists at birth, but it’s somewhat severed. We can rejoin with this body, as I have, but even if we don’t our mood will still effect our magic. Our mental body is powerful. It’s full of knowledge and ability. Magically and spiritually speaking, it’s the greatest source of power we have available to us. It’s also a piece of who we are, and without it we’re all incomplete.

Our mental body exists in a place called the heavenly planes, called that because it’s a seriously happy place. There are of course lots of different places in there, but all of them represent various versions of what some would term heaven. The lowest area of the mental planes is probably close to the theological Christian interpretation of heaven, being a place of perfect love and contentment.

Like attracts like, and we’re drawn towards what is like us, and away from what is unlike us. When my mood started to diminish, I became unlike the heavenly planes, and unlike my mental body. Even though I fully reconnected myself to my mental body, once my mood shifted that connection became strained, and as my mood got worse so too did that connection. As things got worse, it was getting more and more difficult for me to connect to this part of myself.

Even if I hadn’t merged with my mental body and reconnected with it, my mood still would’ve had a negative affect on my magical ability. Just because someone hasn’t yet gone through that process of reconnection doesn’t mean that they don’t have some sort of connection to their higher self and that they aren’t gaining something from it.

When I had my good day, I became more aligned with the mental planes, and I became more aligned with my mental body, and almost instantly my connection came back. I became whole again.

When our mood is positive, we have a stronger connection to the higher planes, and to our higher bodies, and our spirituality and magical abilities are all strengthened. When our mood is negative, our connections to these higher bodies fade, and we become spiritually weaker.

Of course it isn’t realistic to always be happy or always be in a good mood. However if one wishes to be spiritual, and to be as strong as they can spiritually, then they need to stay away from long periods of negativity.

We also need to adjust our mood for magical practice. Magic isn’t something that is best practiced in a serious or somber mood, and its definitely not something that should be practiced while enraged, upset, or depressed. Moods such as happiness, joy, and love produce much better results.

When we aren’t in a positive mood, and we need to perform a magical operation, we need to get into one of those moods. Each of us has our own different happy thoughts, and we need to use those to empower ourselves.

I listen to punk music, and surround myself with toys and old video games, and think about tv shows and movies and comic books. These are some of my happy things. All the little pictures I put on the posts that are meant to be humorous, or reference some part of my childhood, all the little jokes I make, and all of the references I make to pop-culture aren’t just part of my personality, and they definitely aren’t a sign of immaturity. These are all a crucial part of my spiritual practice. I need these things. They make me stronger.

I’ve said before that I’ve never met a magician that could actually do real magic, to any degree, who didn’t also have a good sense of humor. I’ve also never been in a successful group ritual that was entirely serious and where there was never a point where people broke out laughing.

There’s a reason for that. These things aren’t distractions. They aren’t profane. They’re empowerment. At the same time rage and depression make horrible fuels for a magical operation. Nothing ever seems to work when a magician tries to harness the power of those emotions (yes there are darker magics that can use these things, but I’m not talking about those just now, and if you’re trying to harness the power of your rage and depression but still doing magic like you normally would, you’re not doing it right).

Somber rituals meanwhile, where everyone goes through the motions and where everyone is afraid they’ll ruin everything by adding some levity to the operation, are even worse. There’s no way to even harness that crap.

By the way, if you’re wondering why I put Batman at the top of this post, it’s because I talk about my Dark Knight of the soul.

Personal Account: Pandora Boxes

July 7, 2011

Usually I don’t post personal experiences for a variety of reasons. Every so often though I find myself with no other way to express the information. This information comes from a past life regression, and I can’t think of any other way to preserve and publish this information. I also know that in the past life, I had somehow come across this information on my own. I’m assuming someone or some group actually has information on this stuff, so maybe this post will shake some more information loose.


This regression is from my most recent past life. I’ve practiced magic in several of my past lives, including this one, and those past lives usually tend to have a stronger influence on me.

In this particular past life I was a woman, and judging by fashions and interior design I’d say I was a teenager sometime in the fifties, and that I lived in what was probably an English speaking country, most likely the United States or Canada. I died sometime in the seventies, probably closer to the end than the beginning. I’ll get to that in a moment.

Beyond that I had quite a bit of family money and was rather opinionated. I never married and never had children. I lived in a very large home as a child, moved out into my own home, a much smaller one, for a while, and eventually moved back into the family home (I’m assuming this followed the death of my parents). I don’t believe I ever worked a real job or ever actually earned money.

I remembered hiding spiritual books in my bedroom as a teenager, and through hypnosis I was able to discover where I was exposed to magic. A neighbor was a sickly old woman, and she taught me some things at a very young age. Around the time I was twelve she died, and I stole some of her books from her house following her death. Those were the books I was hiding in my house.


My first ever past life regression was of a death, and whenever I find a new past life, the first thing I try to discover is how I died. I usually die young, and quite a few of those deaths are violent, with the remaining ones being accidents. There’s probably a lesson I’m refusing to learn hidden in there somewhere.

Anyways the first time I regressed this past life’s death, it was strange but I was satisfied. Unfortunately I didn’t realize that I was missing big holes.

In the regression I was a bit older, and as I said it seemed to take place in the seventies, which would put this death shortly before my birth. I was in a home, and I can’t say for certain what country it was in, but judging by the place I’d say it was a western nation. The place was a two story, and I was upstairs, and the whole place looked cheap. The walls were painted a light blue, and it looked like it was lit by track lighting, or maybe an uncovered lamp. I was in one of those upstairs areas that isn’t really a room, but just an open area upstairs. I’m not sure what they’re called.

The house looked cheap, so it definitely wasn’t mine. It also wasn’t very well furnished. There wasn’t much furniture, and there wasn’t much on the walls. It looked like the sort of place a bunch of guys in their early twenties might own if they were really clean.

Anyways there was some blood on the wall. I was speaking to a spirit. I remember saying, “Do you know what I am,” while all poised for attack, and then something slashed me across the chest. In one swipe three cuts tore up my shirt and cut deeply into my breast. And that was how I died.

I assumed a few things from this. I knew the house wasn’t mine, so I assumed I was there to clean it and get rid of some hostile spirit. Much like I do in this lifetime, I just assumed I’d be able to handle this spirit. Unfortunately this spirit turned out to be a lot more powerful than I thought it would be, I got in over my head, and those slashes across my chest were enough to kill me.

I was happy with that explanation, but I was wrong about everything, and I figured that out when I regressed the missing pieces.

What Really Happened

As I said I had a second regression, and I remembered all the missing pieces, and now what happened makes much more sense. The most important part of the regression though is what I learned about the pandora boxes.

A pandora box was why I was at the house. I had no intention of cleaning the place, and I wasn’t even invited in. When I arrived the front door was unlocked. What I wanted was inside, and so I went in.

If you’re not aware of how regressions work, at its most intense you have access to the thoughts that were swimming in your head during the regression. It’s like you’re rethinking them. That’s why remembering something like you’re name can be so difficult, because we usually don’t think of our names. I’m sure there’s a lot of other information I knew then that I can’t remember now, because I wasn’t thinking of the back story shortly before I died.

I’m not sure where the name pandora box comes from. I don’t know if it was a name I gave the thing, or if it was a name I learned from someone else. I also have no clue where I learned about these things or how I even knew they existed. I don’t know why I was looking for one either, but if I knew where one was today, I’d probably go looking for it now just because. I do know that the idea of pandora boxes was in my head, in the sense that what I was looking for was one of several such things. Which means there should still be others like it which are still intact.

To describe this thing, it was a wooden box which was probably about a foot and a half to three feet long. The base had a rectangular shape, but the top was more slanted downward, like the roof of a house, and the ends actually came out further than the base. There were a set of circular indentations across the tops of the long sides. These pushed into the base, and the top was curved around them. It would provide a way for it to be set upon rods or carried with them, although I have no idea if this is their purpose.

The box itself was beautiful. Everything about it was a masterful work of art. You’d have to see this thing to appreciate it, but it’s one of the most beautiful creations I’d ever seen, and made entirely out of wood and paint. There were several different colors, including quite a bit of light blue and several shades of white. However most of the box was painted a color that I can clearly see in my head when I think about it, but which I can’t identify. I’m colorblind though, so it’s very possible this is one of the colors I can’t see, like green or purple.

I know in my head that these boxes are very, very old. They are thousands and thousands of years old. I don’t know the exact age. I’d say anywhere between four thousand and fifteen thousand years old. Looking at it though, it was in pristine condition. There was not a dent or a chip on it, not even a loose splinter. The paint wasn’t even faded. The paint literally looked like it had just finished drying. The thing didn’t even collect dust. It’s either craftsmanship far beyond any techniques known today, or very powerful magic.

The other thing about these boxes, they also have a very strong invisibility spell on them. One of these things could be sitting in front of your computer monitor right now, and you’d never know it. You can’t see it with your eyes, and you can’t remote view it with your astral body. It contains a tremendous amount of energy, but you’d never be able to feel it. You wouldn’t feel it if you touched it, and you moved towards it, you would walk around it without even noticing. You wouldn’t even notice the absence of something there. It would seem just like an empty space in the room. I’m pretty certain that photographs and video tapes wouldn’t work either. There is no way you could locate or sense the thing, physically or metaphysically.

You’re probably wondering how I found the thing then. I’m not sure how I located it, but I know how I finally got to see it. No spell is foolproof, there’s always a work around if you’re smart enough to figure it out. But let me get back to the regression.

So I let myself in to the house, entering through the front door. I already knew where I was going in the house too, because I made a beeline right for the room I needed to be in. Right away I went up the stairs, entering that open area I talked about earlier. The place seemed deserted, and there was some blood on the walls. I should’ve guessed something was wrong. I think I was just too obsessed and excited to see the warning signs.

Anyways I went into the hallway and entered a room which was sort of like a den. There was a lot of different things piled up on the shelves and on the desk that was in the room. Anyways I  was in this room with a spirit friend of mine, and this is how I saw the box. I’m not sure exactly what kind of spirit this was, but for whatever reason the invisibility spell didn’t work on him. I had him come with me because I knew it wouldn’t work on him, and he was my way to get the box. How I knew this, I don’t know.

Anyways I stepped out of myself a bit, and I let myself see through the eyes of this spirit. I was in front of the doorway still, and the spirit was across the room on the other side. When I saw through his eyes, I saw myself standing on the other side. Quickly I scanned the room, and there was the box I was searching for laying on the desk. And it was open. And I was overcome with terror.

I popped into my own eyes, turned around, and tried to leave that house as quickly as I could, not even bothering with the box. When I got into the open room, I saw it in the hall, the thing that used to be in the box. Judging by my reaction earlier, I’d say that I knew that something really bad was in that box, but I’m not sure if I knew it was this.

This thing was like a tall anamorphic feline almost, and it had breasts so I’m thinking it was female. It had bright white fur. Maybe there was a darker color in the back, but the front of her was definitely bright white. And she had spots, but weird spots. They were black, and they were square, not round. And they were white in the middle. They were like square donuts.

And the power. The energy I felt pouring off that thing was immense. In this lifetime, I’ve never seen a spirit that powerful in this world. I’ve never seen one that was even close to that powerful in this world. It wasn’t stronger than a god, but I can’t think of anything else that comes close to it. And this is just based on the energy pouring off the thing that was so strong I couldn’t help but feel it. There’s no telling how much power was inside of that thing.

The energy was very animalistic, very violent, and very twisted and evil. The thing was intelligent though. I can’t imagine anything being that powerful and not being very intelligent.

The energy was so strong, I can almost feel what it was right now. It was so strong that when I think about the thing or talk about it, a bit of its energy taints me, and its enough to be noticeable. I’ve also noticed that certain primals tend to be drawn towards that energy, and I’ve been approached by them because I carried it. The primals are surprisingly civil, and even a bit obedient, when they sense that energy. What that means, I don’t know. It doesn’t last very long now, years after the regression. After I experienced the full force of the regression though I carried that energy with me for almost a month before it fully dissipated. Nothing I tried did much to get rid of it, and in the end I had to wait for it to dissipate on its own.

I just want to give some sense of how strong this thing was, but it’s hard to do, because I can’t find anything approximate to relate it to. But I’ve fought a lot of spirits, including a lot of very powerful ones, and I’ve met quite a few more than I’ve fought. I’m not exaggerating because I’m inexperienced with spirits. Things as strong as this are pretty much unheard of in this world.

The thing was definitely far stronger and far faster than me. It didn’t seem to like me, and it was getting ready to attack. I figured I was screwed, so I tried bluffing. I didn’t really have any other options, and it wasn’t like I was going to make my situation any worse than it already was.

So that’s where you get the ‘Do you know what I am… blah blah blah… power power power… I could crush you with a thought, ect. It came at me, swiped once with its claw, ripped up my shirt, and put three gapping slash marks across my breast. Deep wounds like that into a woman’s breast hurt a lot, but they’re not usually fatal, at least not right away. I was still alive, and still managing to stand, and what I did next was truly impressive. I picked up the spirit and through it down the hall, through a doorway, and into a bedroom at the end of the hall.

Picking up a spirit and throwing it across a room is a fairly simple psionic attack. It usually doesn’t do much either, besides maybe roughing the spirit up a little and possibly opening up some room between you. What’s impressive is that I was able to do it to something that powerful. I couldn’t do that today. Even well rested and my energy peaked, tapping into all my reserves, even if I used enough energy to kill myself, I couldn’t manage to throw something that powerful. I’m not as powerful now as I was then.

The throw cost me just about every ounce of energy I had left. I had nothing left to defend myself with, and I could barely move. It didn’t even buy me a second. The spirit got right back on its feet, and rushed towards me, and at that point I met my end in a bloody mess. I don’t remember much of it. I suppose I either lost consciousness, or my soul was pulled out before I finished dying. That is how I came to my end.

Theories on the aftermath

I’ve been trying to find this scene for quite sometime. It was a gruesome murder, and I was a rich socialite in a place I wasn’t supposed to be in. If I could find an account of the crime, I could probably find out what my name was and find out more about that pastlife.

But it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. I’m looking for a single murder that happened in the 1970s. There were over fifteen thousand murders every year during that period for just the United States. Which, another issue, I’m not sure what country this happened in. And this is in the pre-internet, pre-electronic archive, pre-search engine days.

That also assumes a body turned up. What if that thing ate the body or otherwise disposed of it. Then I’d just be a missing person. I had money, so I’m assuming at some point someone had me declared dead, but I’m wondering if anyone really cared that I was missing. I had no husband, or children, and my parents were dead. I don’t think I had any siblings or other close relations, and I don’t many of the people I knew cared all that much for me. I was probably just some eccentric old maid that took off one day, and when I didn’t come back I doubt anyone really went looking for me.

I’ve also thought that maybe the whole house is still hidden. When I got into the house, that spirit was still in it. Maybe the box had a failsafe. When it was opened, it just made a bigger box around the house. The spirit got trapped inside and can never leave, and the lot just disappeared from existence. No one notices that it isn’t there, and no one seems to see it when they pass by it. It’s a nice theory, but it doesn’t explain how I found the house, or why I didn’t notice the huge invisibility spell around the house, which would have been a sign that something had gone horribly wrong. The only way this works is if the box was opened after I had already gotten onto the property.

Other Theories

Someone pointed out to me that what I described was similar to some descriptions they had heard of the ark of the covenant, except smaller. I don’t know what descriptions they were talking about.

Someone also told me that they heard of similar boxes being made in an ancient civilization, they thought maybe Babylon. They were very old and powerful and evil spirits that couldn’t be allowed to walk the earth. Instead of destroying them, powerful magicians trapped them in these boxes. That way their power could be sucked out of the boxes and utilized. However failsafes were put into the boxes to try to prevent them from ever being opened so that these things would never walk the earth again. Over time the boxes were lost and scattered.

Someone also told me heard of spirits like this in an unpublished French grimoire, and while trying to translate the grimoire his pet was brutally torn to pieces, after which he stopped working with it and destroyed his copy of the manuscript.

I’ve also seen some theorize that these things were worshipped, like gods, by the primals. It’s also thought that these things are what most people are looking for when they go after the primals, and somehow the two have gotten mixed up. Primals are strong relative to your average spirits, but they aren’t that strong, and they aren’t usually that bright either. It’s not the sort of stuff most people would equate with the Lovecraftian mythos.

Personal Account: Dreaming With Eyes Open

March 5, 2011

Usually I don’t talk about my personal experiences on my blog and instead just present the information I found although sometimes I make exceptions. This time I’m making an exception because I never tried to look into the experience and gain any kind of knowledge from it. It’s just a weird thing that happened to me once. Still I know a lot of people are trying to figure out exactly what dreams are and spiritually what happens to a person when they dream, and this unique experience of mine involving dreams might offer these people some extra insight into the nature of dreams.

This happened several years back and it happened because of a drug. I got very sick with a flu around Christmas time and went up to the local Quick Care and got a doctor to prescribe me some things to make me feel better. I had a very bad reaction to one of the drugs which caused my pulse rate and blood pressure to skyrocket and eventually ended up giving me severe anxiety attacks. About a day after the anxiety attacks started I realized what was going on and went to a family practice that was recommended to me and saw a nurse practitioner who I got into a fight with. The information supplied by the manufacturer of one of the drugs I was taking listed everything I was suffering from as a possible, albeit rare, side-effect of their drug. The nurse practitioner had told me that this was impossible since rare side-effects never actually occur and only show up on trails because they are so large. It was her opinion that I was suffering from very high blood pressure and needed to immediately undergo extensive testing and be put on a proper treatment, and that the anxiety attacks, which I was now suffering from about one every ten minutes, were a psychological problem that coincidentally started shortly after I started taking the medication that listed it as a side-effect and that I needed to take a recommendation to see a psychiatrist and be medicated for it. There were other symptoms too such as lethargy, restlessness, and insomnia.

I couldn’t bring this up but to the nurse practitioner but I’m also a magician and that means I don’t have anxiety attacks unless they’re caused by some external source that catches me off guard, in this case the prescription drug which caused me a lot of physical problems. Of course I stopped taking the medication prior to my prescription running out, against the advice of the nurse practitioner I might add, and made an appeal to Venus for help. She directed me to seek Saturn, who I then appealed to and who balanced me out. Saturn brought my heart rate down a little bit and gave me a complete reprieve from the anxiety attacks until the rest of the drug was flushed out of my system, which took about another day.

My dreams have always been in full color and hyper-vivid. I can feel pain in dreams, and I’ve been shot, stabbed, and beaten senseless with baseball bats, and it feels just like it does in real life and never wakes me up. I can also feel less extreme things like my feet hitting the floor as I walk or the warmth of someone’s body seeping through the cloth of my shirt which is pressed against my skin when they put their hand on my chest, or the cold air biting at my face as I walk through snow. I also have a full sense of smell and taste.

While I was taking this drug my dreams changed dramatically. I wouldn’t sleep for very long, maybe an hour or two here and there. When I did dream my dreams were no where near as vivid as normal, and I was usually only able to see and hear, not touch, taste, or smell. My dreams were also not black and white, but they had gotten very dark. What I saw was mostly shades of black with some dark grays thrown in, and very rarely I’d see a dark shade of a different color. To me it seemed as if my dreams had a lower realm connection. They also didn’t seem very restful or pleasant, and without my normal super-vivid dreams I seemed to be deteriorating metaphysically and psychologically (beyond the anxiety attacks). I’m fairly certain I need my dreams and I need them to be what they are or I’m going to lose a lot of power and sanity, and probably my ability to function within society too.

Things really got interesting after I talked to Saturn and started flushing the drug out of my system as the effects became less and less. At the point where the drug was nearly completely out of my system I started to relax and laid myself down to sleep. It was night time and I fell asleep with my light on, which I normally do. Also the layout of my bedroom has a wall to the left of my bed, the tv to the right, my feet are pointing towards a big window, and on the opposite side my head points at the bedroom door. I had fallen asleep with my head sideways on my pillow facing to the right but pushed downward so my eyes would be pointing towards the window.

I don’t know what I was dreaming about, but I had one of those boo moments. You know, when something in your dream goes boo at you and you have a rush of adrenaline that wakes you up. As you wake up you instantly jump up, open your eyes wide and gasp before you realize it was just a dream. In my case I opened my eyes wide and gasped. I never jumped up because I never actually woke up. I screwed up waking up and managed to get my eyes open without waking up my body or mind.

Firstly it was weird. When I first opened my eyes my brain didn’t automatically correct for the way my head was turned. I was looking at the window and it literally looked like my entire room was sideways, like I was watching my room on a tv screen which had been turned on its side. This went on for what seemed like many minutes, and then my vision corrected itself.

I had sleep paralysis and could not move at all. I couldn’t even seem to manage the small movements I can usually make in sleep paralysis or while astrally projecting, but this might be because my concentration was focused elsewhere. I was also still dreaming, although I was entirely lucid. If I concentrated hard enough I could make the dreams stop, but if I didn’t images would start appearing around me, sort of like visual hallucinations, although the window and all the things in my room that I could see were always still visible behind the images. It was sort of like my bedroom was a background to these dream images. The dream images would also sort of draw me into them, mentally, when they would start, and I would lose more and more focus and they’d become more and more intense until I would finally get myself straight again and manage to fight them off.

I really don’t like sleep paralysis and wasn’t at all comfortable in this new situation and more than anything just wanted to wake up. I kept trying different things but nothing seemed to work, and in order to keep trying things I had to retain my focus and not let the dream images take over. At one point I tried to astrally project out of the whole situation until morning. I managed to pop out my astral body a bit and let it feel around, but I couldn’t shift away from my open eyes and all I could ever see was what was right in front of them. So instead of being stuck between two worlds, or two states being, I managed to get myself stuck between three.

Eventually I heard a woman’s voice talking from behind me. I thought this was someone that I was living with at the time who was awake and talking on the phone in the hallway. I had this idea that my bedroom door was open and they were walking back and forth in the hallway, however my bedroom door was closed and locked like it always is, and this was at like four in the morning and no one was walking outside my room talking on the phone. As this was happening I kept hoping this person would come into my room and do something to wake me up.

Then a strange girl walked into my room right in front of my field of vision (I’m pretty sure this is a familiar spirit I know, but I can’t be sure as she sometimes takes on different forms). She looked over to her left and said, “hang on a second I have to take care of something,” (for some reason I got the impression she was talking to a bat, but I didn’t see one). She then said something to me and I can’t remember what it is right now, but I knew it years ago and it seems like I should remember it. It was probably something like time to get up now. Then she punched me in the chest, and that woke me right up. No girl, no bat, bedroom door was closed and locked, but the window and everything around it was just like what I had been staring at for what seemed like forever.

I never really made anything out of this experience, besides the fact that it was a weird thing that happened because of a drug I took, but the way that dreams worked when my eyes were open were interesting. I wasn’t in a separate dream realm and I hadn’t astrally projected, at least at first (but eventually I did proving my astral body was right there too), and yet I still had dreams appearing before me. Make of it what you will, but it’s a somewhat unique case study. I also have never met anyone else who has dreamed with their eyes open before, but I told this story to someone who said they had a friend that did this once.

Immortality Magick

June 20, 2010

“No. Please no. Not after all this time. I mean a stupid accident. But I did okay, didn’t I? I mean I got, what, fifteen thousand years. That’s pretty good. Isn’t it? I lived a pretty long time.”
“You lived what anybody gets, Bernie. You got a lifetime. No more. No less.”
-From Sandman by Neil Gaiman

At this time I’m reluctant to post the actual rituals I used. I’m still too involved with what I did to fully understand it or what future consequences it still might bring. Moreso I’m fearful that someone may attempt this ritual, and then attempt to kill themselves to see if it works. While I can guarantee that if they did what I did they would survive it, I can make no guarantee of anyone’s competence with the rituals save for my own.

Likewise I usually don’t post personal accounts for a couple of reasons. First and foremost, I think they would be of little value or use to most people, especially if I provide the theoretical information and practical methods I used. Secondly I don’t want to brag. And lastly, I don’t want to sound like a crazy person, which I’m sure I would sound like. Unfortunately though I haven’t been able to analyze my personal experiences to the point where I can fully realize their meaning and convey the information in a generalized manner. So I have provided here some personal information to be used and analyzed as the reader wishes.

To begin, the original ritual I used I discovered by accident. I was attempting a ritual that would help me win the lottery, but I botched it (and was aware that I screwed up the ritual at the time). I believed that what I was manipulating would naturally fix itself if not correctly manipulated by me, but it didn’t. It was only recently that I realized the full impact of what I did and how to correct it. This is due in no small part to the information I gained from what I call the black grimoire and the aid of a mentoring spirit.

I can’t recall the exact timeline, but between the two rituals was a span of a couple of years. I cannot say for sure exactly how many times I should’ve died in that timespan. However there are two instances in which I know I should’ve died, and the only explanation for my survival is some sort of miracle. In neither case was I testing my mortality. That seems like a very stupid idea to me.

In the first instance I was shot, at close range, through the left side of my chest by a close friend and medium who had become possessed after a ritual. Based on the position of the wound I assume my heart was hit, and I was unable to move anything lower than my neck right after (whether this was because of the pain or blood loss or paralysis or something else I don’t know). I bled for a long time, received no medical attention, and after about a day of pain survived without even a scar to prove the bullet went into me. I know this makes me sound crazy and I’m already regretting writing this. However this is the abridged version of the events as best I can recall them.

In the second instance I was performing a spell and had created my own oil using herbs and burned it on a candle in a closed off room with little ventilation while I slept. I didn’t realize that one of the herbs I was burning was poisonous. My body shut down completely, I was no longer breathing (no idea about if my heart was beating), and it triggered a spontaneous NDE astral projection.

Is it still bragging about my magical accomplishments if they amount to a list of rituals I totally fucked up?

In the past I’ve noted that entities with longer lifespans often do as much or less with them than humans. Elves are a good example. Elves are typically portrayed as gay and frivolous in mythology. It’s because real elves don’t do shit. They jack around a lot. They live more than ten times longer than humans, on average, the majority of that is their adulthood, they spend about as much time raising children, and at their best they achieve, in terms of personal growth and development and their lifetime accomplishments, about as much as a typical human does. The same could be said of their civilizations culturally. As far as the development of art, science, spirituality, ect. it develops at about the same rate as a human civilization when measured in generations. Dragons are another example. They live even longer than elves and they’re far more driven. However it takes them a very long time to finish doing anything. It takes them a very long time to even contemplate or decide to do something.

I used to think this all came down to time management. Having a very minimal amount of time humans are very good at managing it efficiently. Creatures with longer lifespans tend to manage them very poorly and accomplish much less in the same time period.

I now have a new perspective and I realize it has nothing to do with time management, and it goes back to that Gaiman quote. All of us, elves, dragons, humans, whatever, will all achieve about the same amount in a single lifetime. Sure some will excel and some will be underachievers, but on average every species is the same. We all get the same amount of time for our personal growth and development, a lifetime. If you become immortal and live 5000 years you will have accomplished and grown no more than if you had died at the age of forty. In the end you got what anybody gets, one lifetime. Our true spiritual ages and growth cannot be defined in years or hours or moments, but only in lifetimes.

Things move in cycles. Each cycle has a beginning and an ending. After we finish one cycle, we begin a new cycle. Each cycle affords us opportunity for personal growth and expansion. Each new cycle is different than the one that came before it because we have grown and expanded, or if we have failed to do so then we repeat the same cycle over and over again.

There are many different kinds of cycles. We can be going through a long cycle, and inside that cycle there are many shorter cycles. We can also be going through multiple cycles at once.

The changing of the seasons is a cycle. The way the moon changes is a cycle. Life is a cycle that begins at birth and ends with death. As we move through that cycle we age and grow older. Lots of other things happen too, and we find many smaller cycles within the life cycle, and we grow as individuals. This is the cycle that concerns us because it controls our mortality.

Now there are two methods to immortality. We can control our movement backwards and forward through the cycle, and thus age ourselves prematurely or regain our youth at will, and so long as we never get to the very end of the cycle, we will never die. The other option is to remove ourselves from the cycle all together. We will then stop aging and live forever at whatever age we are.

Removing myself from the cycle is exactly what I did. With the perspective I gained I understand how to control the cycles too.

A friend of mine that was studying Comte de Saint Germain and other supposed immortals once told me that he believed the secret to immortality was loving your current life and living in the moment, since this seemed to be a trend he saw among certain legendary immortals. He was half right.

If you remove yourself from the cycle, you can no longer grow. Whatever situation you’re in is pretty much the situation you’ll be in for the rest of your immortal life. Some things may change. You might not always have the same job, but you’ll always have a job you enjoy as much as your current job and you’ll always be in the same financial situation you currently are. If you’re not in a relationship, you probably never will be in one, and if you are in a relationship, you might not be in that relationship but you will be in one like it for the rest of your immortal life. You’ll never spiritually grow into anything stronger than you are right now. Everything will stagnate.

Manipulating the cycle to change your age has a similar effect. Different periods of our life are defined by different levels of personal growth. When we manipulate a cycle to achieve a certain age, we ascend or descend to the level of personal growth that is defined by that age and we relive the situations and events that we experienced during that age.

For instance if you want to be eighteen again, know that you’ll also be working a job and making the kind of money that you did when you were eighteen. You’ll be in a relationship like you were when you were eighteen. You’ll have all the same problems and issues you had at eighteen.

Some of you might be thinking that if you could get back to a certain age, you could live it better and improve everything about your life. You can’t. If you fucked things up the first time you will fuck things up the second time and every other time you go back to that age.

The only benefit to immortality is if you love your life you can go on reliving the best parts over and over, or if your life is perfect you can stop it and remain there forever.

There are a couple of ways to cheat and change your situation even when you’re entirely outside the cycle.

The first cheat is that other divine actions that have precedence have to be carried out. You have to make an appeal to certain divine providences to remove yourself from the cycle. Normally events that fall under the providence of other deity’s cannot effect you since this would be overstepping divine boundaries. For instance death falls into the providence of several different deities, and you cannot die if you are no longer in the life cycle since this would be overstepping into the boundary of the deity that took you out of the cycle. If however a divine action has precedence, which is the case when the event started prior to removing yourself from the cycle, then the event must be allowed to continue even after being removed from the cycle, otherwise it would violation of another deity’s providence. For example if you had made a pact with a god so that certain events would occur prior to removing yourself from the cycle, these events would still occur.

The second cheat is that you can gain things if it is inevitable, you just can’t use them until you rejoin the cycle. This is especially true when you are set to gain things at a certain future point in time prior to removing yourself from the cycle (like an inheritance from a relative that will one day die). Removing yourself from the cycle won’t stop your relative from dying, and yet you can’t really receive the inherence being outside the cycle, but that isn’t recognized by the courts. Of course there is a chance you will lose the money, but you may get the money and just not be able to ever spend it for some reason.

For my own part, years prior to removing myself from the cycle I had sent a large piece of myself and my personal power away to attend to other business. When it finished it returned to me and I received a great deal of power. Although I had that power, and could feel it, I could make no practical use of it until I reinitiated the cycle

These are the cheats that I have found. I believe there may be another cheat, in regards to manipulating the cycle to change your age, and this may in fact be the great secret of immortality and how to use it.

Reinitiating the cycle has itself been an experience. I feel mortal again, and it’s a good feeling. When I initially removed myself from the cycle, I didn’t feel any great change. The change that occured was gradual enough that it went by almost unnoticed. But there was a change.

I felt the effects of the reinitiation immediately. The first thing I noticed was that life energy came into me and flowed through me. I lost this so gradually I didn’t even notice it was missing until it came back. As soon as I got that I felt a greater connection into the Earth, into all living things, into the movements of the universe. I can also sense and feel myself aging and growing older moment by moment. I couldn’t do this before and I seem much more sensitive to life energy. Whether this is a side effect of removing myself from the cycle, or if this is due to the power I gained going into effect the moment the cycle ended I cannot say. I also can’t say if this is a permanent sensitivity, or if I just feel it so strongly now because I’m not used to it. In a few months from now when I am used to it, I may not feel anything at all.

I also noticed that my life energy is not what it used to be. There’s a slight taint of decay on it. It’s death energy. Although for the most part the energy flowing through me is life energy, the energy of a living thing, there is also death energy not just mixed in, but like oozing off of the life energy (for lack of a better description), like I’m also a dead thing. Kind of like I should be dead but I’m alive. And I should be dead, I should’ve died at least twice already. As of yet I haven’t been able to control, change, or limit the death energy, at least not completely, and partly because it seems tied directly into my life essence. I can’t help but think that this exists for a reason, as a way to mark me as something that should be dead. Which makes me wonder if it’s meant as a target.

I’ve been drawing many spirits to myself lately, but the increased energy could be part of it, and the death energy I’m currently putting out is the sort of thing that tends to draw dead things to you. I also received omens in my dreams last night that I was being hunted. No idea how valid the information was, but it goes back to the theory of being marked with a target.

While writing this article up another strange side-effect became apparent. I killed a cockroach. First off I felt its spirit leave its body. I’ve felt that with people in the past and even animals, but never with something as small as a bug, granted I never even tried to sense a bug’s spirit leaving its body, but I also seemed super-sensitive to it happening. I also felt something else connected with its death that, to use a cliche, hit me like a ton of bricks. It knocked a lot of energy out of me for a few minutes, like I had just done some great magical feat. I’m not sure exactly what I felt. If it was its spirit leaving this world, or some other spirit or god come to claim it, or if I had made something concerned with death or the dead aware of me by killing something else. I could swear I felt the veil being broken though. The whole event is a swirl in my head and I wasn’t prepared for it. I’d have to experience it at least once more to get a handle on what actually happened.

Well that’s everything I have for now, except for some specific information on the rituals which I’m not sharing at this time. I also know how crazy all of this sounds, if I were reading this on the internet I would have a hard time believing it, so please don’t think I’m crazy for writing it. I have lots of other good articles on magic and spirituality, many of which are far more sane, to prove that I’m not crazy. Also I’m trying not to brag or place too much importance on myself. I mainly wanted to get the information up and available ASAP, and it’ll probably be months if not longer before I can view this all objectively without regard to my personal experiences. In the future I’ll try to leave my personal accounts out of the articles.

An Astral Trip

July 30, 2008

This is a recollection of an astral projection that I posted online somewhere or other maybe a year or so ago. I’m not sure if it’ll be any use to anyone, but I’ve been raiding my archives of as of yet unposted material tonight and selected two small pieces to put up as posts.

So I took a little astral trip to the lower realms and ended up in one of the weirdest places I’ve ever seen.

The place I came to had a few different passageways going in different directions, it was one big hallway, and the floor and walls and ceiling were all covered in holes with energy seeping out. There was a man standing in the middle of all this where the pathway split several different ways. He was wearing a nice and normal suit with a cloth tied around his eyes while pointing in different directions. He didn’t feel yucky, in fact he didn’t feel much like anything. He was a fairly weak entity with very little energy. Possibly a ghost or maybe just a thought form, I’m not sure.

Anyways he told me that I was at the crossroads of all sexual fantasy, and that they had everything there, every imaginable kink, and I got the idea he was there to point me in the right direction.

I also quickly figured out correctly that the actual passageway to the sexual fantasies was through the various holes seeping out energy. The energy was all sexual but a bit different from each one. A person could find exactly what they were looking for with little difficulty just going by the energy.

It was also obvious that all of the sexual energy was lower realm sexual energy. They didn’t have every kind of sexual fantasy, only those that are regulated to the lower realms. But the fellow was quite pleasant both in his signature and in his mannerisms, and he was trying to be helpful, so I didn’t see any point in arguing with him about this.

The blindfold got me though. I can understand justice being blind. I can understand knowledge being blind. Love, destiny, beauty, poets, I can understand all of them being blind. But this guy was like a signpost. He was there to give directions. I couldn’t understand why he would be blind, so I asked. He said he went blind from constant masturbation.

I have to get laid before I go astral projecting again.

Pictures of Spirits

July 28, 2008

Let me start by saying I in no way endorse the parapsychological movement and, for the most part, I believe what they’re doing is a giant waste of time often performed by individuals with questionable IQs. I have even greater concern with their views on those who have developed true psychic abilities and their views on the individual rights and ethical and moral treatment of said individuals. Considering most practitioners see, on average, dozens of entities of various types on any given day and converse or otherwise communicate with such entities at times, there is no real point in obtaining evidence in order to somehow convince the skeptical outside world of ones legitimacy or to affirm ones own faith. All that being said, sometimes it’s fun to take pictures or record with a microphone and see what you get.

I was with Coyote Pendragon (now writing as Pendragon Deville, also known by many, many other names in many different places) at his home and we took these pictures after performing an evocation ritual. We tried to see what we could get.

This was the first one taken with my camera, and the first phenomena we captured. Notice the shadow in the picture. The shadow shouldn’t have been there, and it moved just as the photo snapped.

I then looked at the two previous photos, all photos taken in about a minutes time, and you can see the shadow moving from left to center.

It turned out however that this shadow belonged to Coyote, who was moving in front of our light source.

There actually was something right here in the circled area (note, not circled, having trouble doing that, it’s to the left of Zues’s altar before the TV in the picture), and we each took dozens of pictures of it and captured it, however what we captured faded from the screen within seconds of the photo being taken each time.

In this pic, taken by me with Coyote’s camera, we thought we caught an actual death shroud. Despite repeated attempts we couldn’t repeat the phenomena.

However, upon blowing up the picture, it’s very clearly Coyote, who jumped in front of the flash as I took it.

This next picture, however, is legitamate. These two photos were taken seconds apart by Coyote on his camera. There is no explination for the fog in the picture (and it wasn’t visible to the naked eye).

Upon blowing up the picture one can also see an eye in the corner. Coyote also points out the rainbow in the alter mirror as being legitimate phenomena, but I’m more skeptical as we managed rainbows of colors from various light sources (although not exactly the same effect) in that mirror in many pictures.

This too is a picture of the room with flash taken by Coyote, but something jumped in front of the camera right before it clicked.