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Demon in my Closet By Frater M.O. | |
Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.  Yes I can recall that cold blustery evening, the night I decided to claim my magical right, claim the power I knew resided inside of me.I was using my homemade cluster candle, made of several different candles all melted together, that I had been using as my "magick" candle. Boy, that candle was the coolest. I think I still have a few of the paraffin scraps in some shoebox of worthless memories. My sorcerer's shop generic blend incense was glowing a bright copper and quickly filled the tiny room with a heavy thickness, which only added to the ambiance I loved so well. My paperback copy of The Book of the Sacred Magic of Abramelin the Mage was earmarked to the page with the magical square I needed for that night's working. Oh how brave I was! So filled with bravado and vinegar. I was on top of the world and ready to conquer a new one. I was also about to become a magical giant, like Gandalf, or some dungeons and dragons character I had created when I was twelve. I can't say for certain but I think I brought in my lucky twenty-sided dice for extra support. I really don't mind if only the reality-impaired out there know what I'm talking about, but back to the story. Where was I, oh yes, I was fearless as I was ready to launch myself into the abyss. As the incense became thicker and the intensity loomed larger I smelled something new and horrible. That thin plastic sheet that covered my new dry cleaning was melting from the heat of my homemade censor... an old dirty green glass ashtray I stole several years before from my father, the chain smoker. Perhaps working on invocations in my closet wasn't the best of ideas. I think the fear of casting a circle in my bedroom or living room was still too weird back then. But looking back it made so much more sense because at the time, I was, magically speaking, still very much in the closet. Magick was the guilty pleasure about which I had a certain sense of shame. Perhaps all those spooky stories about witches and wizards hit too close to home. After putting out the small fire and airing out my circle I got back to business. Sure, I was well aware of the recommended preparation for working with the sacred magic of Abramelin the Mage. I was completely aware of the strict regimen I should have been following. I was conscious of the instruction to come up through the ranks of lower demons before tackling the heavy weights. I came to the predictable conclusion any untutored student of magick would come to after reading the book cover to cover. I lusted after the results and I wanted them all now. I was going to invoke Leviathan in my closet fifteen hours after finishing the final pages and following none of the precursor exercises. After all, I had done the Ouija board with my mother when I was eleven. I had meditated some. I had also read a chapter or two from the wiccan bible and the Tao Te Ching and had some familiarity with Crowley. I instigated a group that made up and cast harmless spells. The wife of one of my buddies even wore a witchy-poo style hat... it was so like... you know... MAGICK!!! So in my mind the stew of meager experience and unfounded confidence with a dash of stupidity was enough to be protected from all forces no matter how little I understood them. The burnt plastic odor finally dissipated I was ready to begin again. Soon the tiny room was again filled with incense, I lit candles, scribed a small circle from where I was sitting with my index finger and I demanded that Leviathan show himself or face my wrath. I puffed out my chest with forceful intent, commanding his appearance over and over again. Nothing happened for several minutes but I knew I had to take this seriously otherwise how could Leviathan take me seriously. I focused all my energy towards the task at hand. I stood up in my cramped little temple brushing up against the macramé sweater vest my mother had given me in 1984. The sweater's hanger jostled against the closet pole and made an eerie grinding sound. At last, the approach of Leviathan! I doubled my energy and enthusiasm as I felt a pathway opening. I anxiously waited for something larger than life, for something grand. Again I demanded to be met in the open, to be taken seriously, to claim my stake as a learned ceremonial practitioner. I felt flush as I continued with even more fervor. I found myself drenched in sweat, and I demanded once again. I felt my mind expanding; my breaths grew longer and deeper. My fingers began to tingle; I must be doing it right. I just blindly continued with the knowledge that I was powerful, and just when I couldn't feel more confident, it happened.  In the blink of an eye I knew, this is a big mistake. All of a sudden I knew I was in over my head. I knew Leviathan couldn't fit in this tiny closet especially with me in it, but it was too late. I felt a wave of fear crash over me like I had never had before or since. The fear was immense and profound. There were no voices or shadows. No howling wind. All the hangers stood still, even the one that held the macramé sweater vest. I was alone and lost inside a tiny room. The fear wasn't subsiding, it was escalating, as the anticipation of my pending ass whooping from the ether loomed larger. My heart pounded, as I felt increasingly more helpless in this bizarre situation of my own making. My feet glued themselves to the floor and the knots in my stomach tightened. I seemed to shrink away further and further, not only from the room, but from myself. I started to lose sensation in my body, increasing my feelings of desperation. The room grew dark. Then somewhere far from the back of my mind came the words, "Say you're sorry and don't play a game when you don't know the rules." Without even thinking I said in earnest, "I'm so sorry, just let me slide this one time, I'll learn. Please!" and with those few words the cloud lifted. I found myself in my closet with my incense and candle. I felt cool, even somewhat calm. My shirt was completely soaked through but that was the only evidence that anything at all ever happened. I was sitting alone.I suppose I could have just stopped my experimenting but in truth that was never going to happen. I enjoyed the quest for living too much. I wasn't left with many options. I could continue with my aimless explorations or I could find direction. The aimless exploration part was easy. The finding direction part was hard. What I hoped to find was distant and secretive. No magical order advertised and Robert Anton Wilson never wrote back. So I continued my make-it-up-as-I-go ceremonial practice. When I finally made contact with a local Order which I felt could offer knowledge and positive supportive, I was initiated. My initiation is still one of the more memorable nights in my life. Let me say that after my initiation I became six foot four, built like Adonis. I also became a millionaire playboy, revered by men and adored by women. In Belize they consider me a god. I attained a perpetual state of samadhi and alchemical gold. Did I forget to mention I am now hung like a donkey...okay so all that is hogwash but my life has changed in ways I could not have fathomed in the beginning. The initial draw of power and phenomena has systematically been replaced by Love and Will and a personal motivation to be better. I am not enlightened by any stretch of the imagination but I am more than I was yesterday. Closer to what I was meant to be. Initiation is much more than aligning myself to a particular group of people, learning definitions and magical formula, although that does happen. For me it is about aligning myself with the Universe. My personal pledge to do my True Will. I explore the nature and powers of my being as perfectly or imperfectly as I can while having the added benefit of being surrounded by like-minded people on similar paths. The beauty comes from this fact, I get out of it what I put in to it. I am never part of the congregation that follows. I take a proactive stance in leading my own life by hard work in learning the tools and lessons that the Western Mysteries have offered me. Hard work does not just culminate in memorization of tarot, astrology, gematria and other occult topics but to understand how it relates in my day to day life, to change and grow, and have a better day to day life. Perhaps the most important and satisfying aspect to the Great Work is acting as a witness. It is very difficult to maintain a perspective in which I can see my own growth. But there is no denying the great changes I have seen in others, how the magical process works flawlessly in creating a triumphant soul. It is only when I allow myself to be seen that others can see me. I write this not as an advertisement for initiation but as an encouragement to those who are solitary practitioners riding the fence - those who have dabbled, but fear the next step, or have taken the next step and now need more. I can only say I came to Magick looking for something to fill my void and found I was already perfect and complete. I can not state strongly enough that this path is not for everyone. The road is narrow and follows its own natural course, which will certainly not always be in accordance with what your own plans and dreams are. Opening up oneself fully to the hands of the Universe is a challenging and sometimes frightening ordeal. But for those who are dedicated and committed to being more, the benefits are boundless. The initiatory path has shown me the guidance to utilize my own abilities to the fullest and to handle the responsibility and fear that come with success of the human condition... which turned out to be way better than ass-whooping invocations from the Supernal. I am reminded that if I want something I have never had before; I will have to do something I have never done before. Questions, comments and hate mail are strongly encouraged. By the way these thoughts do not necessarily reflect the ideals of Cor Lucis as a whole or its members... but they might. Love is the law, love under will.
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