Turning Things Around: The Inner Tarot Revolution Chapter 29
Harnessing The Gift of Fire
As of this 29th Chapter of Inner Tarot Revolution, I am in the proverbial “home stretch.” Since the tarot deck has 78 cards in total and in the opening session of this tarot Working, I happened to divide the deck neatly in two, that means this series was bound from the beginning to consist of 39 chapters. Each pair consists of a Sun Card (to represent qualities innately seen and “owned” as part of my Self) and a Shadow card (to represent qualities in need of recognition, acceptance, and/or intergration). In one sense, this entire series has been like a grand, extended tarot reading utilizing every card in the deck. However, given the extended length of time involved (I first began this just over a year ago, on February 8th, 2023) and the firm intention to integrate these explorations into the very fabric of my life, it’s also a bona fide magic(k)al working with the aim of self-transformation.
The basic structure and concept of the operation is fairly simple, but the results have been surprisingly profound and impactful. When I look back on where I was (and who I was) back when I first started this and compare it to where/who I am now, the difference is considerable. With this working serving as the backdrop, I’ve done plenty of other writing on the side here at Dark Twins, and one of the other goals of carrying this working out in such a milieu as a Substack site for others to read has been to demonstrate the power of this working and its utility in some of the deeper and more far-reaching purposes of this site: To establish a foundation for communicating the Word of Hermekate. The idea is that if one were to read this site through in chronological order from beginning to end, one would likely be able to find all sorts of subtle and not-so-subtle ways in which this tarot Working has played out in the other domains of my life. I believe I am effectively documenting a truly transformative process that I hope others can use for similar aims.
For the sake of some of my newer readers (welcome!) who haven’t necessarily been following along, some context about my personal situation going into the beginning of this working should be understood:
At the time I began the working, I was in the middle of undergoing an experience known in various circles as “Crossing the Abyss” or encountering “Chapel Perilous,” an experience typically associated with the initiatory grade known in the A.:.A.:. as Adeptus Exemptus. This is the 8th grade in a system of 11. I would say that this experience began in earnest for me in March of 2021, although it was ultimately catalyzed by an experience I had on the night of the Rose Moon (or Strawberry Moon) Eclipse of 2020 (a story I tell in the post The Weighing of the Heart). The interesting thing is that I did not begin to suspect the nature of the experience for precisely what it was until I had been stuck in it for a long time; you see, in the A.:.A.:. system, in the grade of Adeptus Exemptus, a person takes “The Oath of the Abyss,” wherein they swear to “interpret every phenomenon as a particular dealing of God with [their] Soul.” From what I understand, this is most typically a situation where taking said Oath serves as a “scaffold” upon which the aspirant proceeds to gradually build toward an understanding and experience of how all phenomena are connected, filled with hidden meaning to which we, in our experiential state of relative egoic “separateness,” are otherwise blind; the method is one of intense striving wherein the theory behind the Oath is held in Willed focus until the aspirant finally begins to experience its premises as a lived reality. In other words, the Oath is usually taken as a means of intentionally and consciously entering the Abyss by (hopefully) catalyzing the experience of non-dual consciousness that the Abyss itself represents; one is attempting to “jump-start” this change in perception by leveraging the Will to adopt the basic “rules” of that state of consciousness until the true transformation is eventually effected. It is basically a “fake it ‘til you make it” situation.
What happened in my case was basically a reversal of this: I began to have the experience quite spontaneously and was basically overwhelmed by the level of synchronicity that quickly swallowed up my entire life; my every inner thought was seemingly echoed in the form of subsequent external events taking place all around me, and the conclusion that my entire life had essentially taken the form of an ongoing “dialogue” with the universe itself became an inescapable reality that I just had to cope with. It was after I had been living this way for months that a friend of mine reminded me of the Oath of the Abyss, and I then made the connection that in my case, taking such an Oath was basically the only way for me to stay sane and eventually take control of the overwhelming experiences into which I had been swept up. In other words, I had the Initiatory experience first, and took the Oath of the Abyss as a way to organize what otherwise felt extremely chaotic.
In the A.:.A.:. grade system, the formal entry into the Abyss is followed by the encounter with “Choronzon,” a “demon” representing the personal ego, and according to Crowley, this is a definite sink-or-swim moment: The most desirable outcome here is for Choronzon to successfully destroy the ego, but leave the adept otherwise intact. Much confusion stems here from the limitations of language and Crowley’s penchant for the dramatic. The fact that duality as we know it breaks down once we enter the Abyss means that in some sense, yes, the ego as we previously related to it is broken down. However, in practice, we would not be able to continue functioning in the earthly world without an ego, and this is why all grades beyond the Abyss were thought to be impossible until Crowley himself claimed to have reached them. Even once he did so, his wording emphasizing the “destruction” of the ego is unfortunate here, because the reality is not quite so simple. More realistically, one of three things happens at this point:
The new, non-dual state of consciousness associated with the Abyss is successfully integrated, which does involve an essential (but temporary) dissolution of the ego in a way that leaves it more permeable to the “waters” of the trans-personal realm beyond the Abyss.
The ego succumbs to a complete and permanent dissolution in the “Sea of Binah,” leading to insanity and complete soul-loss (I once read “complete soul loss” on a list of illnesses associated with the Sephirah of Daath, and I used to laugh. Used to.)
Attachment to the ego is stubbornly defended and preserved, which basically means the aspirant fails to fully enter the Abyss and remains instead at that Initiatory threshold in the Sephirah of Chesed which precedes it. In other words, the aspirant is “turned back” and remains rooted in the purely personal realm. As I understand it, this is the state which Crowley referred to as “becoming a brother of the Left Hand Path.”
An analogy that I find most effective for describing this stage of initiation is that of the metamorphosis in which a caterpillar becomes a butterfly or moth (and this is why Michael Aquino’s term for this same transformation, “Setamorphosis",” is so suitable): In the process of metamorphosis, the caterpillar forms a chrysalis, and inside of it, the caterpillar completely melts down into a seemingly irredeemable “soup” or “goo;” then, miraculously, it is re-formed into a completely different type of creature with wings, now capable of departing the ground and taking flight. This corresponds with the scenario in option #1 above.
In option #2, the analogy would be that of a failed metamorphosis; say, if the chrysalis breaks down, spilling the “soupy” substance of the caterpillar out onto the ground and killing it.
In option #3, the caterpillar simply never weaves a cocoon to begin with, and thus remains in its initial form, never growing wings and living out its life consigned to crawling around and munching on leaves (where it would otherwise subsist on nectar from flowers).
There is even a fairly straightforward symbolic expression of this process illustrated by the Path of Cheth, one of five paths on the Tree of Life that cross the Abyss, this one joining the Sephirah of Geburah to that of Binah: the Tarot Key associated with this path is the Chariot, and in the analogy at play here, the Chariot itself is the “chrysalis.” This serves as a “vehicle” that contains the Self as it breaks down, allowing it to do so without fully dissolving into the surrounding waters. Similar symbolism also reveals itself in the likening of the Sephirah of Binah to the womb of the Goddess Babalon, and the status of one who succeeds in this metamorphosis as becoming “A Babe of the Abyss.” In this analogy, the “Chariot” is like the “placenta” which encases the developing “fetus.”
In the A.:.A.:. system, one who achieves this transformation enters the grade of Magister Templi, corresponding with the Sephirah of Binah, and their goal at this point is to attain to a perfect understanding of the Universe. This can only be done in the truest sense from the other side of the Abyss because the fullest and truest comprehension of the Universe is one that can perceive the latent unity which underlies the seeming separation of all multiplicity.
Traditionally, this is the highest initiatory state most people should reasonably expect to reach, while some go even further, progressing from the Sephirah of Binah to the Sephirah of Chokmah. In this grade, one is said to refine one’s perfect Understanding of the universe into a philosophy that can be essentially expressed as a single Word. Traditionally, this process involves not only transmitting an existing understanding of the universe as it is, but also to effect a modification or transformation of the universe as it previously was. To do so is about the only possible way to “expand” upon the already lofty state of the Magister Templi. A good analogy for this is that if the known universe is a game, the Magister Templi is one who masters the game, whereas the Magus is one who effectively changes the rules. If the universe is a video game, the Word of a Magus is basically a patch that updates the game to a new version. In this analogy, the Curse of the Magus might be likened to the complaints and protests of existing gamers who are pissed off at the changes, perhaps because their favorite class got “nerfed.”
I bring all of this up for an important reason which gets to the heart of the very change introduced to the universe by the Word of Hermekate: Quite simply, while I formally entered the Abyss in the period between June of 2020 and March of 2021 (which, I note, spans 9 months—the typical period of gestation in the womb for human beings, which is…pretty interesting in and of itself given the symbolism typically used to describe this Initiatory state), I first “heard” my Word in 2016, four years before entering the Abyss.
There are important implications here that point to Hermekate’s nature as a “bridge” between the Aeons of Ma’at and of Set. In fact, as I began to express in the post Hermekate and The Aeons, I even think it’s likely that Hermekate more accurately dwells at the point of equilibrium between the Aeons of Horus, Ma’at, and Set—a situation we will see reflected in this chapter’s Sun Card.
In short, the initiatory model Crowley left us, which is regarded within the Western esoteric tradition as being a direct embodiment of the Aeon of Horus, is an interesting map of Initiation, but one of the major assertions made by the emergence of the Aeon of Set and the Word of Xeper is that it is just that: A map, and not the territory itself. All of the work done in the Temple of Set since its foundation serves as an essential proof that the path constructed and bequeathed to us by Crowley is not the only one that works, and further, that it may not even be the best one. Ask anyone from the Temple’s III° and beyond, and they will likely affirm this truth: That while the Tree of Life and the Initiatory system of the A.:.A.:. may be basically functional, they’re far from being necessary for one’s Initiation. Establishing this truth is one of the primary purposes of the explicit rejection of the Qabbalistic Tree of Life that was first effected by Anton LaVey’s Utterance of the Word of Indulgence: One curious property of both his Church of Satan and Aquino’s Temple of Set is a positive spurning of the Qabbalah, a near insistence on using any other model but the Tree of Life to illustrate and understand the process of Initiation; as it was written in The Book of Coming Forth By Night:
When I came first to this world, I gave to you my great pentagram, timeless measure of beauty through proportion. And it was shown inverse, that creation and change be exalted above rest and preservation.
With the years my pentagram was corrupted, yet time has not the power to destroy it.
Its position was restored by the Church of Satan, but its essence was dimmed with a Moorish name, and the perverse letters of the Hebrews, and the goat of decadent Khar. During the Age of Satan I allowed this curious corruption, for it was meant to do me honor as I was then perceived.
But this is now my Aeon, and my pentagram is again to be pure in its splendor. Cast aside the corruptions, that the pentagram of Set may shine forth. Let all who seek me be never without it, openly and with pride, for by it I shall know them.
The Temple of Set Vol. I
p. 37
And further:
The Satanist thought to approach Satan through ritual. Now let the Setian shun all recitation, for the text of another is an affront to the self.
p. 37
At this point, I must pause to emphasize that I am not a member of Temple of Set, and what I say on these points constitutes my own interpretation of the situation as I am able to perceive it; I am connecting various dots drawn from those written works made available to the public by Temple of Set and its members, along with my own observations of those individuals I know to be members of the Temple. That being said, my own Initiatory experiences and the way they have shaped the Word of Hermekate lead me to the following conclusions:
Aleister Crowley—as Magus of the Word of Thelema—declared the opening of the Aeon of Horus, in which “Every man and every woman is a star” and each person is to do their own True Will; even so, Crowley left behind a very specific system and “roadmap” to the attainment of that goal. Even as his own Word gives a nod to the uniqueness of every human being, his particular magic(k)al system was also the only one he explicitly endorsed as a reliable means to the end of Thelema. As such, those who adopt his Word by and large tend to consider that particular roadmap to be essentially legit and absolute, and often take his teachings as gospel.
By contrast, the Aeon of Set emphasizes the paradigm of self-creation, or Coming Into Being in one’s own unique way. Its emphasis on the individual Self goes to such an extreme that each of its Initiates is exhorted to create their own path from scratch, working from the inside out, with the understanding that such is the best way to reach the ultimate goal of one’s own Becoming. This is not at all about following in another’s footsteps, but about blazing a new trail.
Strangely enough, despite its apparently obstinate defiance and rejection of the particular roadmap offered by the Word of Thelema, the Word of Xeper also serves as the essential proof and culmination of Thelema’s core principle by virtue of that fact. The Word of Xeper basically takes the situation implied by the Word of Thelema all the way to its most extreme conclusions, and thus illustrates Thelema’s validity even as it intentionally rejects the “sacred cows” enshrined in said Word. I have finally come to understand that this strict and special emphasis on the purest form of self-creation is what makes the Aeon of Set one that is decidedly meant for the very few: Those capable of making their lives a pure expression of Xeper are rare indeed.
The thing it has taken me a long time to understand is this:
That fact, in and of itself, does not make such people inherently “better” or “superior” to others (even though many if not most Setians would think that it does, if some of their publicly available writings are an indicator). In all honesty, for anyone who isn’t naturally accustomed to such a way of doing things, to hold oneself to the standard of Xeper would be a wholly unnecessary limitation. The path of Xeper has its drawbacks and weaknesses just like any other path.
From the perspective of the Word of Hermekate, neither of the two extremes above (i.e., slavishly adhering to the A.:.A.:. and its Tree of Life vs. slavishly rejecting it) is either necessary or desirable, and Hermekate opts instead to synthesize the two. The way this has been illustrated on my own path is interesting and sticks out somewhat like a sore thumb: On either path—that of Thelema or that of Xeper—the principle of Willed progress is equally emphasized; that is, whether or not you’re following the particular initiatory map advocated by the A.:.A.:., true progress on the initiatory path is typically only considered to be “valid” when it is intentionally Willed. My approach was different: I was so intently focused on the singular goal of finding my own way to expressing my Word once I heard it (earlier than I “should” have from the perspective of the schools surrounding both Thelema and Xeper) that I pretty much stumbled into the Abyss like some kind of magic(k)al doofus. From that point, I was forced to work it all out for myself, mostly by retroactively mapping the journey I had already taken back onto the Tree of Life. Honestly, it wasn’t until I was already in the thick of it and at great risk of failing that I looked back and realized: “Oh shit…this is the Abyss. This shit is real!”
By doing so—and this detail is especially important—from outside either the A.:.A.:. or the Temple of Set, I basically served as a proof of the validity of Xeper in the same way that Xeper was itself a proof of Thelema. I did it by applying the basic principles of Xeper on my own and still arriving at the goal of the Grade of Magus. Just as Xeper proves Thelema by going to an extreme far beyond the normative boundaries of the former, Hermekate in turn proves Xeper by going to an extreme of self-creation that even Setians would consider reckless and perhaps even aimless. But fuck ‘em, because it worked anyhow, right?
This has served a subtle but important purpose: Doing it without being a part of the Temple shows that the path of Xeper is legitimate on its own merit, and isn’t simply an empty, subculturally-reinforced narrative that Temple of Set members construct for themselves and one another. In other words, it’s more than a circle-jerk. This is a bit difficult to explain to anyone who isn’t already familiar with the territory in question, but I’ll do my best:
There are two intertwined aspects of the grades of initiation regardless of the specific model, but I’ll begin making this point using the grades of A.:.A.:. as an example. One purpose is to classify different states of consciousness. The other purpose is to classify different levels of magic(k)al training. The two are closely related, but not strictly identical. So, for example, in the first “full” grade of A.:.A.:. (after that of Probationer), that of Neophyte, one has to “acquire perfect control of the astral plane,” and in the next grade, that of Zelator, one must “achieve complete success in asana and pranayama” and also study the formula of the Rose Cross. In the next grade, that of Practicus, one must make a thorough study of the Qabbalah, and so on. In other words, in these earlier grades of the A.:.A.:., progress is pretty much explicitly measured by meeting predetermined benchmarks of accomplishment in certain very particular practices; it’s not until the grade of Adeptus Minor that one’s grade level begins to be defined more primarily by one’s level of consciousness or Initiatory experiences rather than solely by an artificially-defined level of technical skill in various magic(k)al and mystical practices.
In other words, from the viewpoint of the A.:.A.:. (or a student of Thelema who follows the A.:.A.:.’s guidelines for initiation), it doesn’t really matter what you claim to have experienced: You’re not recognized as having achieved the grade of Adeptus Minor unless you’ve also mastered all of the skills and proficiencies associated with all of the previous grades. If you haven’t done that particular work, your attainment is not considered to be valid.
The most significant difference between the A.:.A.:.’s grade system and that of Temple of Set is that the first five degrees of A.:.A.:. are basically “collapsed” into a single grade in Temple of Set while also being defined somewhat differently: In short, one enters the Temple as a I° Setian and then has two years to prove sufficiently to a member of the Priesthood that one is Adept in Black Magick, at which point they are promoted to the grade of II° Adept:
The Temple of Set, in searching for the single term most descriptive of the II°, ultimately concluded that “Adept” was it. Like the Church of Satan, we see no reason for half-a-dozen variations on this title; one either is Adept in the Black Arts or one is not. Thus you could say that, as compared to the A.:.A.:. system, the transition between the Temple of Set’s I° and II° would correspond to a transition between the (1)=[10] and (7)=[4]. Obviously this is not a sudden transition, but the Temple of Set feels that any sort of graduated subdivision of the process, as in the G.:.D.:. and A.:.A.:., is not relevant to our situation. As Adeptship in the Black Arts is non-standardized, there is no one path toward it to be incremented.
The Temple of Set Vol. I
p. 195
From the perspective of a devoted student of Thelema, the state of affairs in Temple of Set would practically be blasphemous. The non-standardized nature of the simplification of the grade system instituted by Temple of Set would look way too sloppy and careless to them, and this is one of the first reasons (aside from the Temple’s rejection of the model of the Tree of Life itself) that a dedicated student of Thelema would likely look with great skepticism upon the Temple as a valid initiatory system. To the Thelemite, a ToS Initiate’s relative lack of expertise regarding the Qabalah would imply an inferior understanding, whereas a ToS initiate would hold that the Thelemite is wasting their time memorizing a bunch of trivia that has nothing to do with actually advancing their objective state of initiation. The Thelemite would object that the ToS members aren’t learning the rules of the road, while the ToS initiate would point out that the Thelemite is confusing the roadsigns for the actual road.
As such, strict followers of Crowley would likely consider Temple of Set members to be full of shit for claiming to have reached the same levels of Initiation held by a Thelemite of similar grade; because the ToS initiate isn’t expected to jump through all the same hoops as the Thelemite, the Thelemite would assert that the ToS Initiate is cutting corners and skipping over established means of “proving one’s Initiatory mettle.” They would not be viewed as qualified to hold their advanced grades as compared to a well-trained Thelemite. Ardent adherents of the two schools would likely never see eye-to-eye on these matters.
As I’ve belabored repeatedly, I myself wasn’t even considered eligible for Temple of Set membership at the level of I° Setian let alone Adept II°; furthermore, it would be preposterous even within ToS to speak of being a Magus before at least doing the work required to earn the rank of IV°.
If a Setian wouldn’t be likely to Recognize my standing, a Thelemite would almost certainly balk at my claim to have reached the Grade of Magus. Put simply, most conventional initiates would find my claim utterly laughable. Neither school would be willing to co-sign my claim because neither would view me as having sufficiently “done the work.” This is what I’m up against by having followed the path that I have, and I am keenly aware of this difference in relative accomplishment.
However, it’s irrelevant in a sense, because I would never profess to be some greatly-accomplished practitioner of magic(k) (although I’ve had plenty of fun, and seen some crazy shit, and have been told by many that I’m nothing to sneeze at). I’m also not claiming that my level of comfort with the realm of the Abyss is necessarily equal to that of a “genuine” Magister Templi in either the A.:.A.:. or the Temple of Set.
But I am saying that, nevertheless, I’ve seen the territory of grades up to and including Magus V°, by virtue of the fact that I most certainly have a Word and am contending every day of my life with the Curse of the Magus. So what I am saying is that one’s level of magic(k)al training is a completely separate matter from one’s level of Initiatory consciousness. The assertion that one depends on the other is nothing more or less than an arbitrary form of bullshit gatekeeping even though it is founded on fairly sensible principles of linearity.
Why is this important?
In a nutshell, the Aeon of Ma’at is held to be taking root within the “soil” of the Aeon of Horus, even if it won’t fully unfold for quite some time. There is a lofty end-goal pertaining to the Aeon’s full unfolding as espoused by Soror Nema and the Ma’atian text of Liber Pennae Praenumbra: The emergence of “N’Aton,” the Ma’atian state of collective consciousness that is held by adherents of the Aeon of Ma’at to be in its early developmental stages. The same process is, I believe, recognized within Temple of Set under the alternate nomenclature of “The Metamind.” If I am connecting the dots appropriately, the Setian concept of Setamorphosis is held to be a fully legitimate phenomenon that is effectively the individual cornerstone upon which the more collective Metamind is being built. The Temple of Set’s own grade system is designed in large part to facilitate Setamorphosis at the level of individuals, which will eventually culminate in the emergence of N’Aton whether or not the Temple as a whole ever bothers to concern itself with the process beyond the midwifing of individual adepts.
People who adhere to the Aeon of Horus (and, from what I’ve seen, most of those who adhere to the Aeon of Ma’at as well) seem to imagine that as the Aeon of Ma’at unfolds, it will be largely through the widespread adoption of the Initiatory framework held to have been “perfected” by Crowley. Even in Liber Pennae Praenumbra, the basic structure of the Tree of Life is upheld in a passage weaving a metaphor from various species of birds. This reality is apparently taken as a given. In other words, they likely imagine everyone eventually learning Ceremonial Magic(k) as a precursor to manifesting the Aeon of Ma’at itself.
In the big picture, the Aeon of Set has arisen because, quite frankly, such a notion is most certainly far too limited to actually be practical. In short, the Qabbalah is but one of many maps of the Path of Initiation, and it’s tied to one very specific cultural context that is simply never going to ring true to everyone on Earth. To make a long story short, there is no way that one narrowly-defined path is going to suit every individual, and as such, the eventual emergence of N’Aton cannot depend entirely on everyone following that path.
Thus, the Aeon of Set illustrates that each of us can carve out our very own path based on our own subjective understanding, and it does this by explicitly “coloring outside the lines” of Thelema.
Nonetheless, even the Temple of Set has its own very strict and very high standards for membership; while being more flexible in the sense of allowing for greater personal nuance in walking the path of initiation, it’s also far too exclusive to serve as a workable model for the necessary critical mass of people to actually bring N’Aton into manifestation…which, from the viewpoint of a Setian, is just no problem at all because those cats aren’t even really trying to do such a thing. They say it themselves: The Temple of Set is only concerned with its own, narrowly-defined elite (“The Elect”) and their own personal development. And that’s fine…
…because the Temple has also shared a considerable amount of its work with the public, such that an independent student (such as myself) is able to take their basic principles and put them to work in my own life to see how they hold up…
….and what I’ve shown, by and large, is that their particular departures from traditional Thelema are so valid that even a person who isn’t “accomplished” enough for the Temple to officially Recognize as an Adept II° can use their tools to navigate V° territory. I may not be doing quite the same things with those tools that a ToS member does, but they’ve certainly proven sufficient to get me where I need to go, and I’m quite happy with that.
From this perspective, it’s entirely possible that even if the Temple did see me as being qualified for entry as a lay member (assuming my full potential had been recognized), they might benefit more by keeping me out precisely because if a Magus could Come Into Being on an independent basis by applying their Initiatory formula, that would be an unbeatable proof of the formula’s validity: In such a hypothetical scenario, it would actually be important that this be done outside the Temple as a kind of scientific test, because being so isolated from the influence of the Temple’s internal culture would stand as a necessary “control” against the possibility of social bias. In other words, if I’m not formally included in the group but I use the Word of Xeper to Come Into Being as a Magus, it would demonstrate that the formula of Xeper is effective enough to carry individuals all the way through their Initiation. From this perspective, it has been important that the formula be tweaked and refined within the relatively closed environment of the Temple, but the “proof of concept” would still require demonstration on a verifiably independent basis.
I’m not implying that this has been anything like a conscious motivation coming from within the Temple; I’m just saying that given the way everything has worked out, the Word of Hermekate will likely be of greater benefit to the cause of advancing the evolution of the Art of Initiation because of the fact that it was Uttered outside the Temple. Had I been a Temple member and undergone its internal processes of verification, the Word of Hermekate would be deprived of a golden opportunity for serving as a relatively unbiased example of “Xeper in the wild.”
This is important because in order to ground N’Aton and fully realize the Aeon of Ma’at, it’s likely that the vast majority of people in the world will need to pull off something similar to what I’ve done. It’s simply not very feasible that N’Aton will fully emerge while the expectation remains that everyone go so far as to jump through all the magic(k)al hoops that align with a certain narrow conception of what an “adept magician” is. People have their own lives to live and not everyone even wants to be an accomplished “magician” in the classically-defined, “occult” sense. It’s just silly to imagine that in the future, everyone will need to be a full-on Ceremonial Magician for the next stage of human consciousness to unfold across the species. Some people may find that specific goal appealing, and in order to preserve a sense of being somehow “special,” might insist on enforcing the standards defining a “real magician,” but that’s a pretty narrow perspective that does not necessarily bear any inherent connection with the evolution of human consciousness on a wider scale.
The Word of Hermekate, more than any other Word that comes before it, is concerned strictly with a focus on states of consciousness, regardless of any corresponding, artificially-enforced level of “Adepthood” in “the Black Arts,” in “White Magic(k),” or what-have-you. In essence, by the time a person has Crossed the Abyss—no matter how they got there or whether or not they “did it on purpose” by some snooty and uptight definition of terms—one enters nonetheless into a state of relationship with the world around them that is very inherently magic(k)al. From the viewpoint of Hermekate, that’s essentially all that really matters.
No one “does adolescence” on purpose, either: It’s just a stage everyone goes through. Likewise, when the day comes that the state of collective awareness described by Ma’atians as “N’Aton” and which Setians understand as “the Metamind” becomes the norm, the Initiatory experience that we recognize today as “Crossing the Abyss” will necessarily be a regular rite of passage that is every bit as normal as it is today to be a teenager…and despite what many occultists today imagine, getting there will not necessarily require everyone to learn magic(k) as we know it today. Occultists tend to be pretty narrow-minded and overly focused on their own “occulture.” In fact, it’s possible that the day will come when all the magic(k)al techniques venerated by occultists today are regarded as contrived, because a truly advanced magic(k)al state of mind will be so ordinary that such ridiculously artificial means of actualizing it will seem bothersome, clumsy, and needlessly complicated.
It will likely take a very long time for us to get there…but the pathway to that state from the Aeon of Horus, and even from the Aeon of Set, will be through the Word of Hermekate.
So It Is Done!
And now, though this chapter’s introductory section has been much more lengthy than usual…
…let’s do cards; after all, while our intro has focused so much on the path across the Abyss, this chapter’s cards illustrate the opposite journey, which must be effected by the Magus: Making it back across into the realm of manifestation with the goods plundered from the Godx.
Top/Sun Card
I love this card so much, so I’m very glad to see it here as a Sun Card—especially after The Moon’s appearance in Chapter 28. Generally speaking, the appearance of any of the 3s of the Minor Arcana is good news. As the caption above says, good things come in 3s, and 3 is a number that was especially revered by Pythagoreans. 3 is half of 6 and the square root of 9, and Nikola Tesla famously held that there was some kind of mysterious property to 3, 6, and 9 that is simply divine.
Today is a particularly suitable day to be writing this chapter, because the astrological aspect associated with this card is Sol in Aries, which is associated with the dawning of Spring; likewise, in the United States, today marks the beginning of Daylight Savings Time. I vibe with this card if for no other reason than that I am an Aries native myself, having been born right around the time of the Vernal Equinox.
The card resonates particularly with the themes explored in this chapter’s intro section in that Wands are the suit of Fire, or the “highest” and most “spiritual” suit, while the 3 places this card at a key point in the Supernal realm beyond the Abyss. According to DuQuette in Understanding Aleister Crowley’s Thoth Tarot:
What a truly noble and well-aspected card this is. The Sun is in Aries, the sign of his exaltation, and couldn’t be happier. Furthermore, this harmonious and energetic marriage takes place in the third sephirah, Binah, adding sublime understanding to the mix. The great power (and the will to use that power) that we saw represented by the Two of Wands has now become fertilized and expressed in terms of character as Virtue.
p. 214
This card and its placement align beautifully with the themes I explored in my most recent post, Honor Among Thieves: In that post, I likened the Grade of Magus to the errand of Prometheus, that of bringing the fire of the gods to the realm of humans for us to use. There is possibly no better symbol within the tarot of that self-same fire than the Three of Wands. The appearance of this card also follows neatly from that of the Moon in Week 28, where I emphasized the fears I need to face in order to fully accept and carry out the Task of the Magus: That of facing The Dweller on the Threshold (another name for Choronzon, the Demon of the Abyss mentioned above). The Threes of the Minor Arcana all correspond with Binah, the Sephirah associated with the Grade of Magister Templi: It is the Task of the Magister Templi to rest there as a “Babe of the Abyss” and come to understand the universe to the fullest extent possible; going forth from that position of relative stability, it is the Task of the Magus to carry that same Understanding back across the Abyss again and into the manifest realm beneath it, to give that gift to anyone capable of receiving it. This is akin to a rebirth that mirrors the emergence of every living person from the relative comfort of the womb in which they once rested, into the discomfort and tumult of the outside world. Birth is an inherently painful, somewhat violent process, and in turn, “birthing” the Word involves a similar struggle against a relatively pleasing inertia to bring it forth into the realm of activity.
As Crowley had it in The Book of Thoth, and I have been expressing in my posts of late:
The idea has become fertilized; the triangle has been formulated. In each case, the idea is of a certain stability which can never be upset, but from which a child can issue.”
p. 178
This mirrors the state of the Word of Hermekate after my successfully having written Basic Elements of Hermekate Parts I, II, and III, after which point I noted that I had managed to express the meaning of Hermekate to a degree adequate enough that I could stand on a relatively firm foundation in my occupation of the Grade of Magus: At that point, it was clear that I carry the Task of the Grade and have met it sufficiently that there is effectively no turning back now.
Ever since then, my personal work has been a matter of growing ever-more accustomed to the position in which I find myself: Rooting myself firmly in the confidence I will need in order to carry on. The Curse of the Magus has been a real son-of-a-bitch since I’ve made it to this point outside any traditional system of bona fide “qualification” that might serve to check and validate my achievement to onlookers; as a result, without so much as a definite nod of approval from anyone but myself, I have been forced to deal with all manifestations of the Curse as potential indicators that I was simply mistaken and self-deluded as to my Initiatory progress. This has put me at a considerable disadvantage. Over the past few weeks, I have been working to rest comfortably enough on the “tripod” represented by this card to face any remaining doubts as nothing more or less than the expected manifestations of the Curse of the Magus: In other words, to defy them proudly and continue with my work as a matter of course. Up until recently, I’ve responded to any and all resistance to my progress from a place of reactive defensiveness, as potential indicators that I’m treading on fallacious ground. Over the last couple of weeks, I’ve been developing the habit of stillness in the face of apparent threats to my work, cultivating the attitude that any opposition I face is in fact a gift that helps me to sharpen and further refine my understanding of things. In other words, I am developing greater boldness and resilience.
As Gerd Ziegler sums up the position in Tarot: Mirror of the Soul: Handbook for the Aleister Crowley Tarot:
The three wands bear lotus blossoms which are in the process of opening. This blossoming is the result of an inner awakening. Body, intellect, and spirit are in harmony. Out of this state an integrity crystallizes which allows for no lazy compromises. You perceive and allow your own power free play, never giving it over to someone else in an attitude of subjugation. Despite external dynamism, the center remains untouched and clear.
p. 101
This is not a bad place to be by any means; it’s a good “checkpoint” at which there can be no regression unless I allow it. The danger here is of getting too comfortable; after all, this card rests in Binah, but I can’t hang out there if I’m truly a Magus. Leave that particular brand of stasis to the Magister Templi. I’ve got Work to do…
…and that brings us directly into the Fours.
Shadow Card
It just figures, doesn’t it? If my Sun Card for this chapter is the Three of Wands and I’m not supposed to get too comfortable there, it basically stands to reason that my Shadow Card would be the Four of Wands: Completion. In other words, I ain’t done yet. I’m only halfway home.
One of the major signals coming from this card is that the time has come to let go of the stance of combativeness that showed itself back in Chapter 27 of this series with the appearance of the 7 of Wands: Prior to the passage through the gates of the Moon in Chapter 28, it was wholly appropriate and even necessary to adopt the stance of a warrior assailed by apparent outside forces. Such was the way to galvanize myself against anything the Curse of the Magus might continue to send my way. However, after identifying those fears with Choronzon and recognizing them as manifestations of the Curse, the proper approach is now to transcend such apparent “battles” as a waste of energy. It’s no longer about winning the day against seeming challenges from without, because from the viewpoint of Binah/Understanding, such are recognized as stemming from the illusion of separation. Besides, I’m not really here to “fight” anyone; the Word is a Gift borne by the Magus, even if it’s brought into a world that initially rejects it as foreign. As Crowley stated in The Book of Thoth:
…one cannot establish one’s work without tact and gentleness.
p. 190
In other words, there’s no need for hostility; the Task of the Magus is not about proving oneself, which is an inherently ego-based pursuit. The apparent assaults on the Word stem from ignorance and the brute inertia of Nuit, and in no way do they inherently reflect ill will on the part of those who express it. Those who challenge the Magus are simply doing what they feel is right and proper; they are doing as anyone other than the Magus themselves should do. They are doing their duty to the Aeons, and that isn’t their fault. It would theoretically take no less than a Magister Templi to recognize the incoming impulse for what it is at this point.
As such, the appropriate posture, as one crossing from Binah’s 3 of Wands and into Chesed’s 4 of Wands, is that of Mercy and benevolence. In fact, taking an unnecessarily defensive and hostile stance is only likely to reinforce a sense of embattlement: If the Magus behaves as if they’ve got an axe to grind, they are sure to find a whirling grindstone in all that they encounter, and the cycle of action/reaction will spin on and on without end. Best, instead, to greet apparent challenges with equanimity; after all, the result of overcoming any such challenge can only be the strengthening and sharpening of one’s Word by way of an ultimately beneficial friction. Anything lost in this process was inessential to begin with: Dullness is unbecoming a true blade and needs to be removed.
In Tarot: Mirror of the Soul: Handbook for the Aleister Crowley Tarot, Ziegler affirms that…
Before the new can arise, the old must be complete. The conflict between opposites must be resolved in a way which will further you on the way toward your highest goal. Tension in relationships can work positively when the individuality of each partner is recognized and respected. This makes it possible for you to support one another in moving forwards.
p. 103
This alludes to some of the points I made in this chapter’s intro section above: Much of the seeming conflict experienced by a Magus stems from the ultimate success of previous Magi in the establishment of their Words. Other Magi who came first have sufficiently founded their own respective Words that the destabilization effected by the introduction of a new Word results in a sort of “backlash.” This may seem like a problem, but it should in fact be encouraging in the sense that all Magi are participating in a dialectical process of evolution wherein each Word follows necessarily from those preceding it. The key to resolving the apparent conflict and bringing the resulting turbulence to a stable equilibrium is to recognize the ways in which the new Word confirms and upholds previous Words. In truth, it follows logically from them. In this sense, the relationship between new Words and established Words is like that of the different components of a syllogism: The previous Words are the premises, with the new Word following from them as a conclusion. To establish the new Word means “solving the equation” to ascertain how the new Word follows from its predecessors. The best way to proclaim the new Word is thus to sufficiently demonstrate to those who live by old Words how the new Word upholds and reaffirms the old by leaning up against them. It’s not about winning a conflict at all…
….it’s about transcending one.
It is only once this realization is achieved that the Word can begin to truly take a solid and enduring form in the concrete realm beneath the Supernal Triad. Before this is accomplished, no one below the grade of Magister Templi can be expected to accept the Word. By definition, this implies more than simply speaking or expressing the Word. Beyond the point of dynamic “gestation” as established in the Three of Wands, carrying the Word into the manifest realm represented in the Four of Wands involves taking action. This is where the Magus is challenged to fully embody and live their Word even as they preach it. Talk is cheap.
Chesed is fourth sephirah, but it is the first below the Abyss. Consequently, the fours of the tarot represent the first solid manifestation of their suits. This is the classic characteristic of the Demiurge (Demiourgos)—a god who, as we learned in chapter 8, is, by all appearances, the first principal and creator of its universe, but who, in reality, is only the fourth principal and completely unaware of the three abstract principals (gods) that preceded it.
Understanding Aleister Crowley’s Thoth Tarot
p. 215
In this sense, the wheel-like form given to this card shows that as we roll along in the Great Work, it is below the Abyss where the proverbial rubber meets the road. It comes to mind that traditionally, the Four of Wands depicts the scene of a wedding, which is also reflected in the Thoth Tarot by juxtaposing the dove of Venus with the ram’s head of Martial Aries: The “Completion” depicted therein is like that of a marriage, where the “Virtue” of the Word as illustrated by the Three of Wands is merely the “proposal.” It’s easy to profess one’s love and undying devotion; it’s another thing entirely to live that commitment out in the face of the inevitable friction and turbulence of marriage. Nonetheless, like marriage, it’s entirely worth the effort.
The Word of a Magus is a labor of love.
With a neat 10 chapters remaining in this Working and the firm establishment of my Word in the realm of Virtue, I feel the call of Completion: It’s been a long year and as I continue to develop the understanding of my Word via study, it’s high time to bring this working—Inner Tarot Revolutions—to an end. I have a deeply-felt sense that my general progress at this point is innately tied to finishing this working. Inner Tarot Revolutions has been turning round and round in the back of my mind ever since I started it, and to some degree, my soul will be unable to rest and move forward until I wrap this up. Until that time, I remain in a kind of limbo.
Onward to Completion.