I am not a psychoanalyst but was in Freudian analysis for four and half years, five days a week. So if you’re tired of my voice already now, try to imagine what it was like for me back then! Endless verbiage, swinging from low self-esteem to perfected hubris. But what gradually dawned, as it does, was the insight about the verbal mind’s capacity to cheat in order to be safe, to be escapist in order to stay put, and to be intellectually alluring to stay emotionally remote. This insight was of great help in many ways, not least in the magical work, because I eventually realized that formulation is truly the key to development and success in this field too.
If I say something like, “It is my will to resolve this current problematic issue by changing these related things,” which is what one often does early on in the magical career, as well as in psychoanalysis, this presupposes that I know, first, exactly what the issue consists of, and second, how the interrelated things are actually connected. But is this usually the case? I can answer only for myself and say that initially, I was very quick in both definition and formulation, meaning that I assumed that my formulations were based on insight and genuine will. Thereby I was very intellectual, specific, and causal in my approach. But I’d say that two-thirds of the time, in both ritual work and analysis, what was formulated was mere regurgitation of current affairs, frustrations, and haphazard attempts at solution rather than honest expressions of a deeper will to change myself, which would incorporate various causal changes in daily life. I wanted the world to spin around me, but that can only happen when I’m perfectly still and balanced.
Here is an example from both spheres. In magic, I wanted to boost a creative project to manifestation in a climactic ritual state of mind, and focused on that in a distinct mental-verbal expression, with high causal hopes. In analysis, I wanted to counteract then current topics of low self-esteem in relationships by becoming more extroverted and socially active in a quite forced way.
A wiser approach would have been, in the case of magic, to express this little specific need through a filter of much deeper resonance: “I want this project to be successfully manifested because that would give me a greater visibility in a field in which I honestly feel I belong on emotional levels.” And in the case of analysis a better approach would of course be to not counteract but instead try to constantly get a deeper insight into why the low self-esteem was there in the first place, and resolve the issue. Basically, you can always go deeper and farther and when you do that in an honest way, the perfect solutions for minor issues will become evident.
In the Western sphere of occultism there is a concept called the holy guardian angel. It’s integrated into many systems and often called by different names. This relates to a principle that is either a more elevated level of your own consciousness that guides you, or an external principle that guides you, depending on which cosmology you ascribe to, or subscribe to. Regardless of which main field we look at, it’s an intelligent principle of externalization, not necessarily as a kind of mirror (as in the case of friends in a conversation which can evoke a “third mind” of creative epiphanies) but rather as an ideal that nudges you in intuitive, personal ways. It’s like someone with a bigger picture not only of where you come from and where you are, but also of where you should be going based on who you truly are.
Does that ring a bell? In analysis, this would be the analyst who remains hidden, out of sight, and who, after an initial period of bonding, passive-aggressiveness, and transference, subtly hints or suggests where to go based on the level of sincerity of the horizontally positioned vertical aspirant.
This leads on to the question if it’s at all possible to be alone in the process of self-knowledge? Do we all need a holy guardian angel and/ or a therapist? Of course we’re all social animals with needs of different kinds of interaction; but what I mean is if it’s at all possible to develop alone in spiritual, magical, or therapeutic contexts? Very likely it’s not. Even the sternest gnostics and shamans need to contextualize, share information and insights, and compare the personal findings with those of others, to refine a process that is potentially endless.
One area that’s usually at the attractive center of modern magical life, or the appreciation of modern magical life, is that of dreams. Magicians have tended to see dreams as prophetic or as a similar kind of interactive sphere as that of an inner core, as active imagination/ daydreaming, as visions during scrying or astral travel, that is, as a considerably more active phase than the standard Freudian approach to dreams as reminders in symbol of unresolved issues. But the emphasis is there in both environments—a validation of a psychic sphere that demands a third of our lives, and which contains valuable information or fodder for development. We usually refer to the dream sphere as a magical one, meaning, I suspect, that it’s devoid of mental, intellectual, and verbal shenanigans. Other, deeper forces are at play.
The complex symbolic language of ritual magic and occultism may be filtered down pictograms from dreams, passed down throughout the millennia. If we accept the interior interpretation of the holy guardian angel concept, including gradual accessibility to Gnostic wisdom, then all of the stuff comes from the psyches of our ancestors. Before the book form, and before formulated written language, it was easier to contain a lot within fewer symbols. Is that, perhaps, when the corruption and self-deceit began, that is, when we left the inherent meaning of pictograms or symbols in favor of abstracted letters? And is that the reason why many of them linger on in specifically magical spheres, that is, as a needed counterforce to the more recent mental particles of formulation?
From an analytic perspective this would make sense too. As we develop as individuals through anal and oral phases and close ties to the mother, formulation is actually what sets us free and makes us able to interact with more people than the mother. Spoken and then written language is what we use to construct identities apart from the merely biological ones. But it’s a two-edged sword. Because if we have the power to define through formulation, we also have to power to cosmetically adjust and redefine ourselves in different contexts, like playing out daddy against mommy to please your immediate ego, or vice versa if that’s what matters just then. The symbols of dreamland here become nonverbal soothsayers and truth sayers, and the pain of confrontation with certain dreams stands in parity with the degree of actual validity.
Freud’s sexualization of human behavior, as compared to the more cosmic interpretation variant of Jung, also finds its expression in traditional ritual magic in the Western sense. We usually see ritualized behavior based in a dramaturgy that mimics male sexual expression: intellectual outset, transcendence into an encompassing energy, increasing frenzy, ecstatic upheaval with exclamation of more or less formulated desire, and a meditative aftermath in which the wand is laid to well-needed rest. Much of traditional ritual contains symbolic recreations of the original creation. Almost like playacting a Genesis or big bang for personal purposes. This can be expressed in inner preparations through invocations or evocations of third-party helpers, or in outer mapping of complex yet conducive symbologies (astrological, elemental, planetary, etc.) where the magician becomes a seed sower for a specific goal.
One problem with this dramaturgy as well as with Western systems and traditions is that they’re all alluring, complicated, challenging, and mentally strenuous—which means “perfect” to the Western psyche. This goes for both ritual magic and psychoanalysis. Where there’s a system that requires method, devotion, knowledge, and a lot of time (and in the case of analysis, a lot of money), you go to master it, with the causal hope of receiving a degree, a funny hat, or a declaration of good mental health at the end of the process tunnel. But still, the system in itself is not the refining or magical matrix. The gradual waking up to self-deceit is.
Freud’s schematic model of the psyche stems from a hierarchical cultural tradition, in which the motivating desires and drives are “sub” conscious and that which guides us is “above” us. This is a prevalent model for most
of human life and not even specifically based in a Western sphere. It’s thereby no surprise that causal, hierarchical models appear in ritual magic contexts too. Whether in group settings in elaborate temples or solitary workings in the mind, there is the magician at the top, commanding the sub-forces via the centered consciousness of formulation. Even angelic beings within a romanticized pseudoreligious context are commanded by words of power and elaborate symbolic structures of correspondences in time and space. The more complex it becomes, the more complex it becomes. If the formulation of the will isn’t founded in genuine self-knowledge, things can easily get topsy-turvy. Because a human drive is always stronger than a human intellectual concept or structure. Externalized dualistic concepts with projected or invested moral qualities can absolutely bite back if what you exclaim doesn’t resonate with your own genuine morals.
In a more analytical language, you could say that that striking out in compensation or projection may not resolve the issues at all. It very likely will not. What’s needed is self-reflection and soul stripping in a chamber with different kinds of reflective surfaces; many of them will be symbolic. If you’re diligent and honest, all mirrors will crack and there will be no more self-images to see because you have become the sole soul-seer. That’s also the result of the magical process. You may have wallowed through endless systems and initiations (and related power trips) but when push comes to shove comes to compensatory quaquaversalism comes to final stillness—hopefully!—there is only one unique and noise-free mind that is resonant with all other minds. On that level, a brand new magic is available, with no hocus-pocus needed whatsoever.
My advice both in terms of ritual magic and analysis is to dig deeper before something is eventually expressed in an intellectual decompression chamber that allows for things to manifest. The causal manifestation of something desired is totally fine as the cherry on top, but the cake as such is usually baked with considerably more complex and not seldom painful ingredients. That goes for both these areas. If you strive for the cherry but can’t properly make a great chocolate cake first, you may instead end up with steak-and-kidney pie, and ensuing disappointment.
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Zine und Zeit
Originally published in The Fenris Wolf, nos. 1–3 (2011).
TRANSMISSIONS OF ESOTERIC KNOWLEDGE have been handed down to us over the centuries in basically two fundamental ways: orally and in written/printed form. As for the oral transmissions, it’s usually in their very nature to be secret and secretive. One could argue that general-educational wisdom (stuff having to do with raising children, for instance, and conveying ethical codes) has been transmitted orally through multiple generations without these demands of secrecy, but it’s equally true nowadays that even these invaluable everyday pieces of wisdom can be found in printed form. Or on the Internet. That doesn’t mean they become more tangible and applicable, though. General human behavior codes simply seem best transmitted orally.
As for specific, “real” magical knowledge, I would say there are absolutely strains and lines of wisdom that continue to be passed on—and who knows where they originally came from. I have encountered reliable “witnesses” possessing such knowledge, and I have myself been given some teachings from nonwriting magicians that I know for sure don’t exist in any duplicated form. Given their secret nature, I will leave those oral aspects right here. If you want eso-exoteric blabbermouths, please consult the Internet.
In terms of the written and in various ways duplicated word, it’s literally easier to look at, and especially when it’s “close to home.” I think many of us share similar sparkplugs in our esoteric engines: magical books would probably be the most common one, that is, books that either have a strong evocative potential or books actually dealing with magical subjects, or else a mix of these aspects. We hear of things, we read things, we investigate and become inspired. And then we read some more. The books can in themselves become genuine totemistic objects too, if there has been a substantial charge of inspirational-emotional energy in the reading process. This charge can last a lifetime (and possibly longer) and can also be fetishistically enhanced by, for instance, an autograph by the writer in question, or knowing that the book has previously been in the hands of someone important.
The esoteric journal or anthology containing various minds becomes a multifaceted gemstone, with condensed expressions of human thought. The market in general is swamped by a plethora of books containing all sorts of compensatory epiphanies and claims of revealing the inner mysteries of both this and that (thank heavens book covers pretty much correspond to the contents—it saves a lot of precious time!). But the journal, be it occult or not, has the potential of at least displaying one or two facets one can resonate with, be inspired by, and, if one is lucky, allow to be integrated into one’s own usable wisdom. It’s a format that awakens curiosity and encourages taking a stand, pro or contra. It’s a format that awakens further interest and makes you think and reflect. One crappy page of a book can be a reader killer. If you happen to find one in an anthology, just flip to the next article.
Thoughts like these were going through my mind while originally working on the first three issues of the Fenris Wolf between 1989 and 1993. Essentially, my goal was to collect the writings of the people I had more or less access to at the time, and/or that I had been inspired by. “What has inspired me will very likely inspire others too.” This is a fundamental link in the chain of the history of human ideas. Stuff that doesn’t really work will of necessity be discarded. Powerful ideas and energies will be cared for and nurtured and passed on, perhaps even slightly improved. I’d say that this is one of the reasons why the history of persecuted ideas is so endlessly fascinating. If someone is willing to kill you because you have a dissenting idea in your mind, you can rest assured it’s a good and vital idea. Many of the occult teachings and ideas have been occult for a very good reason: self-preservation. But when the time is right, the flower in question will eventually bloom.
Also, there is one very substantial thing that I learned while working with various music fanzines earlier on: the world is malleable to a greater extent than what we’re raised to believe—another very important magical insight. It’s not impossible to penetrate new environments or cause change to occur in “conformity with will.” It’s not impossible to ask someone for something. Actually, my experience tells me that the answers to my requests have been affirmative and supportive more often than not.
These two aspects—a will to relay/transmit and a realization that it is actually possible—became the cornerstones of my youthful folly in the wonderful worlds of garage rock, sleazy films, experimental art, and worn-out antiheroes. Chat and snap, cut and paste (I mean that literally), print or Xerox, and distribute yourself (again, literally) at concerts and record stores. Very primitive stuff, but it worked. In fact it worked very well, and for each new issue, more doors opened. In my mind, there was already a formulation that what I was doing was magical in that sexy, supra-causal sense. As I drifted more and more into the hocus-pocus quagmire, my first priority was not to secure a gallant robe or an extravagant wand to zap the cosmic forces. No, the first priority was to create an occult fanzine, through which I could weave my own magical spells. If you haven’t guessed it already, it was the birth of The Fenris Wolf.
Have you been aroused by a blog lately? I’m sorry to say I haven’t. I don’t think I ever have, come to think of it. But when I flip through old issues of Chaos International, Starfire, Nuit-Isis, the Cloven Hoof, the Black Flame, old TOPY newsletters and fanzines, or the Cincinatti Journal of Ceremonial Magic, I can feel a tingle that is sometimes decidedly more sexual than cerebral. Why is this? It’s because the tiny magazine or fanzine in question has been charged with intellectual or magical energy, best summarized as a will to share radical, substantial human thought from a unique vantage point. This energy sort of radiates from the pages, no matter how poorly printed they are. I hope the first three numbers of Fenris Wolf emit t
hat same goodwill (some would say complete evil will). I think they do, but I’m probably too partial.
The return of the book-book is apparent these days, no doubt a backlash against digiculture, e-books, and toilet-paper paperbacks. For more on magical aspects of bibliophilia in relation to the grimoire tradition, please read Peter Grey’s excellent piece in the fourth issue of The Fenris Wolf, “Barbarians at the Gates.” It really goes without saying, but I feel compelled to say it again: tangible quality will last. Ephemeral digi-snippets of the contemporary will not last. If you want to share something and make some kind of impact while doing it, share it either straight (live) into people’s hearts and minds or in tangible, multidimensional forms. So far, the printed book has proven itself a worthy winner in this regard. I strongly suspect this will remain so for a long, long time.
And when this long, long time has passed, I suspect that the impression of our own written magical transmissions will be a fragmented jumble of disparate expressions, each with distinct suggestions on how to cope with an array of problems and challenges—that is, a more or less exact reflection of the times we were living in then (now), albeit garbed in esoteric lingo.
I think the historic hocus-pocus traces will be obvious (in many ways, they already are). In or about the mid-1970s, a mere decade after the Aquarian psychedelic big bang, a huge release of creative energy settled in while we were (re-)evaluating those historic traces. Some have since preferred the conservative, museal, and cerebral approaches, while others have embraced a more anarchic, intuitive one, and then a zillion other approaches on top of that. However, what unites all serious expressions is that they will be regarded as serious down the line too.
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