Even as I write this, the vision is fleeting. I had to go downstairs and get my wife to grab my laptop. I wish I could remember everything that was said, but here’s the gist of it. I grabbed my Nestor Miranda and went back upstairs. Seems like ritual smoking is OK, so I opted to burn a lot of incense in respect to the spirit but to get my wife happy too so the room doesn’t entirely stink. When I came up here, it might have been 60F. I’m sweating now.
Opened by KC, LIRP, LIRH, KC.
Bast came first, surprisingly. I wanted to talk to Michael first but the Bast statue looked like it turned its head in the smoke to look at me as I was doing the work. I took the hint. I talked with Bast about the cat problem, mostly. Bast indicated he could still take care of the cat problem but it wanted me to keep the statue somewhere we could see it, with a candle in front of it. When we had problems, it would be enough to light the candle and address the statue. Bast is generally a cool guy, and talks like the Chershire Cat – except he gives me direct answers. I had no problems talking to him first since the crystal seemed largely dead to me tonight, so if he shows up first, great.
Things I learned – The Golden Dawn and later the OTO picked the Egyptian pantheon because it was popular at the time, but also because it has the least ‘baggage’ to the Western Mind. Specifically my own. I’m not terribly well read on the Egyptian stuff, so he suggested it was a good pantheon to work with to get around my memetic programming. I asked for the ability to communicate better with the cat, which he seemed OK with. I also asked that he take care of the cat so it stopped peeing everywhere. I asked if he would do it or if he would send a spirit, I got a vision of him lording over a herd of cats (try doing that in real life…) and he sent the familiar black form to go talk things over with the cat. When I was trying to press him for details on the hows and whys of magic, he cut me off with “The Angel is waiting”. Sure enough a quick glance at the crystal, and I saw the sun disk. The sun disk this time had a four winged angel in the middle of it, with an eye at the center. I tried to pick his brain some more and he answered me questions more tersely now, but I confirmed that keeping a candle lit near the statue in a public place in my house was the way to go – no triangle required. He again reminded me the angel was present.
Michael showed up, and I was on Michaels “level” on the glass tower. The archangels were below me, Michael paradoxically was present to support the tower with his wings and standing next to me.
The HGA is the proper HGA, you have the name and the seal. The problem is you don’t realize the HGA is you, and you are the HGA. You are one thing, you are always one thing, you will always be one thing. This is the mystery.
OK but how do I become one thing with my HGA?
Michael drew his sword and ‘cut’ my astral self. Normally this would imply ‘in half’ except it was more like cutting an unseen magical link somewhere. I was lifted up into the HGA. Now I was on the HGA’s level, and I definitely felt some rushing of power. Upon re-reading this particular paragraph, it’s not clear what happened. I moved up – into – the HGA.
Should I call the Tetragrammaton now?
It is right. I called the Tetragrammaton. The sun appeared, but my heart chakra was literally, absolutely on fire. I seriously considered waiving the operation off thinking I might be having a legitimate heart attack. When I tried to use my normal vision to look into the crystal, I got a headache. I looked up and I literally ‘drank’ the sun. If I sat in my chair and tilted my head back, I felt much better. I opened my mouth and just sort of let it drink in. A beam of white light came down from the sun, into the HGA/me, and down to the archangels. I sat here and absorbed it’s power, and the burning sensation went from my crown chakra, down my body, into my neck, then chest, then legs, then feet. Remember when I saw the sun sign on the HGA’s chest? Right there was the most intense feeling.
Crowley’s “Make All Spirits Subject Unto Me” popped into my head. I realized the reason why we have spiritual authority is not only because of the Will of God, but also because we have our HGA, and we are one with our HGA.
What should you show me?
We’re now on my parents farm, before they sold it, before the power company bulldozed the woods in the name of running a power line across it. The weather is spring. It’s warm. The sunlight is literally streaming through the trees. My grandfather (dead 10 years now) is here, he is some version of Michael. We’re walking along the shale shelf, which eventually leads to the creekbottom. Hunters can find the path, but it was always a good place for thinking because it’s opaque to people who don’t have the eyes for the woods. There’s a current here, like honey, as we walk/are pulled along.
I joined the Masons to learn about God, but it was not my church. This is my church. (An expansive gesture to the woods). I am here in all things, and the Secret is unity. A leaf, a rock, a salamander, even the moss underfoot was singing. Words don’t do this vision justice. Things were beautiful and vibrating, everything had a shimmer. In the masons, they had their own church. It was good, some men used it as a social club and some men had a sincere desire to better themselves, but it was not my church. There is a bible here, he puts it down on a rock. I’ve seen it before many years ago but memory doesn’t place it as I blog here trying to put the last fading memories of this vision into text. Where is your church? It is here. Although you need structure and form as an engineer, so you remember.
I do remember. I converted briefly to wicca, then asatru, because I told my wife I repeatedly had the cathedral of the woods experience. When I was 10, hunting was about hunting. When I was 20, hunting was something Elmer Fudd did with his conservative Christianity and his NRA and his firearms. I went to college. I took up geocaching. The geocaching was both the 40 days in the desert and the Awakening moment. I could trod along urban areas looking for tobacco tins buried in parks, but eventually me and my (former) friend went into the woods. The woods, for him, was simply something to trod over. It was something between him and the goal. We would find the cache and draw dicks in the little notebooks. For me, it eventually became less about the notebooks and more about wandering through the woods and soaking in nature. I think I probably encountered spirits of the land, but never knew them.
By 30, I knew what it was – I called it the cathedral of the woods. I spent less and less time with him, since he was interested in the hustle and bustle of the city and didn’t have a taste for philosophy. Part of it was his father had passed and I suspect his heart was hardened. Part of it was the girl he was dating (and would eventually marry) had a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn’t consider setting foot in the woods. More often than not I would catch a fleeting glimpse of something when the light was just right. The woods would open up, and swallow me in their beauty. These moments usually occurred when hunting. I would go to the quiet places people did not frequent, lay down, and soak in the woods. The woods became my church, the trees became the arches, the leaves, the painting of the Sistine Chapel. The entire time looking up there at the sky, God itself had painted the marvelous sight. I wish I knew then what I knew now, I would have tucked some incense in my backpack and maybe lit it and had a small sit down chat with the spirits… I don’t talk to this guy anymore. He left his roots, I went back to mine.
The HGA/Me and my Michael/Grandfather have come to a lake with a waterfall. We dive in. The burning sensation I’ve had all this time died down to a dull warming, but the water was deep, dark and cold. The water itself was alive, both as water, singing some hymn I did not understand, and because it carried life itself. So many fish swam by, but it was alive with algae and small insects and all manner of things. We passed through the waterfall, and were underground. Here a different sort of song, deep and mysterious. It looked like Crystal Cave, and had faerie lights or fireflies. Bats slept above, as bugs crawled below. The cave was the last place I would expect to find any sort of experience with God, but here the Godhead is still present.
The elements, the elements. Each one is alive, and a world unto itself. Some things exist this way and some exist that way, but they are all within you and linked to you by the life they possess.
The spirit is not talking about just merely the bugs, but rather a spiritual life which every rock and tree and flake of mica possesses. All is manifest within creation, so all are part of creation. The Great Work is to pick them up and reintegrate them within ourselves. I must do more elemental work, among other things.
I find myself in the sun temple, on the throne. This might be a bit presumptuous, but the message is clear. To be all spirits, we need to first literally be all spirits.
Maybe it’s time to do more elemental work. I thanked the spirits for their time, grateful for the experience. It was more flowing and natural than a lot of my work as of late.
And I completely forgot to ask about the rail pass. It’s no big deal.