Losing My Religion?

I have engaged in some further discussions about the topic of the Dark Night of Soul recently on Face Book. What has come out of this discussion is a more refined definition of the Dark Night of the Soul that magicians as well as mystics might experience. According to those who disagree with me it has to do with the aftermath of experiencing a powerful but momentary union with the Godhead, in all its glory and majesty. The resultant sense of loss after such an experience, also temporary, produces in the magician the archetypal Dark Night of the Soul. Tomas Stacewicz has responded to what I wrote with his own article, and you can find it here. I have also read with interest what he has proposed as comments on one of my Face Book status postings,

While I would never say that it is impossible for a magician and initiate to experience pain, darkness, doubt, fear and even despair while undergoing a powerful transformative initiation (in fact I have stated that this is very likely), I wouldn’t necessarily equate that intense experience with what a mystic undergoes through the Dark Night of the Soul. This is because a mystic nakedly approaches the Godhead by faith alone, whereas a magician is armed with faith based on the experience associated with magical experiences. There is also something decidedly masochistic about how a mystic deliberately prepares for this occurrence. Christianity does emphasize the suffering of Christ on the cross (particularly in Catholicism), and so a Christian mystic should also experience a similar level of suffering in order to be considered legitimate. Also, as I indicated in my article, the Dark Night of the Soul is nearly a constant companion for the mystic, but it doesn’t seem to be something habitual for the magician.

Tomas seems to have ignored the details that I presented in my article about how a monastic adherent seeks to undergo union with God and all that it entails. Based on what I have written, it makes more sense for mystics who have diminished and emptied themselves so that only the naked and unadorned psyche is still extent to have these kinds of experiences. How could worldly magicians who are still full functioning and participating in the mundane sphere be capable of having this kind of experience unless they themselves were reduced to nought?

I think that Tomas is actually engaging in a romantic association and a glorified identification with the mystic path, even though, unlike a mystic, he is still functioning in the world. He has a job, material possessions, property and social obligations. A true mystic would have eliminated everything in his life that might have interfered with achieving union with the Absolute. Tomas seems to believe that because he has experienced what he thinks is the archetypal Dark Night of the Soul that all such experiences must be the model and foundation for all other magicians. In fact he goes on to point out that experiencing the Dark Night of the Soul as he defines it represents an important mile-stone signifying one’s true level of development and achievement. In other words, if you haven’t experienced this phenomenon, then you couldn’t possibly be an adept, or for that matter, an initiate. He is quite adamant about this belief, and there seems to be no middle ground. Here are Tomas’ words to that effect.

“However, my own experience [of the Dark Night of the Soul] and the experiences of other initiates proves beyond any doubt that it is possible and even constitutes a requirement to become a successful Magician or Adept.”

I suppose I should be insulted by what Tomas has said (since it excludes me from being a magician or even an initiate), but I won’t take it personally. I have the utmost respect and admiration for Tomas and I believe that he feels the same way about me. Despite the narrow definition that he has flatly proposed, we have agreed to disagree. Still, I felt it important to respond to some of his points to more clearly define the nature of my own tradition and magical perspective. Tomas seems to believe that I omit the importance of the Dark Night of the Soul in my magic because I define matter and spirit, and my pagan path, differently than he defines his spiritual path. He sees it as a difference in our paths, but I think that it is merely a difference in semantics.

While I agree that our paths are somewhat different, it is difficult for me to accept that they are that much different. My reply to Tomas is that he might be conflating the Dark Night of the Soul, which is a very specific phenomenon in Christian mysticism, with a difficult and particularly harsh transformative initiation. Of course, this is matter of opinion, but I felt that it would be constructive to contrast how we see reality and perhaps get a glimpse of the truth behind our passionate beliefs.

In my previous article I did state that painful transformations can and do occur, but if and when they occur they usually represent something specific about the individual and their own spiritual process, and they are not necessarily archetypal to all such experiences. The cycle of transformative initiation is something that is constantly repeated and it has lesser and greater cycles, so there would be a periodicity to experiencing intensely powerful and difficult changes regularly in the life-span of a magical initiate. While magical initiates follow the cycles of light and darkness and that this is feature of their path, the experience of darkness that a magician undergoes is not same as the Dark Night of the Soul. It is has neither the intensity nor the depth, and this is because it is just one phase of the initiatory cycle.

Another point that Tomas has made in his article is that modern pagans cling to the material world and are unable or unwilling to detach themselves from it in order to truly experience the manifested glory of the Godhead. Here are his words:

“All spiritual paths and the followers thereof distance themselves from the material world to a certain extent, Theurgy as well as Mysticism”

As I pointed out in my article, a modern pagan doesn’t differentiate between spirit and matter, rather they consider them to be fused into a holistic structure that can’t really be separated except through the artifice of the mind. Modern pagans don’t “cling” to the material world, they in fact embrace and fully live in it, and they celebrate its various wondrous mysteries and manifestations. We perceive that spirit and matter are conjoined in union so that life and the material reality becomes something sacramental. Thus, to a modern pagan, every living thing is a sacrament!

I also find the term “pagan reconstructionists” be somewhat misleading regarding my own beliefs and practices because as a modern pagan what I do has only the barest and rudimentary relationship to ancient pagans and the paganism of antiquity. Granted, there are pagan reconstructionists, but I am not one of them. That is why I call myself a Modern Pagan and not a reconstructionist. Even so, what I am doing is celebrating a religious tradition, although it is a very modern and newly developed one. Our work as Modern Pagans and Witches is not yet complete. In fact, we have only begun our spiritual and religious adventure. However, all magicians are more or less modern, since the cultural context and consciousness of even a few hundred years ago is irreparably lost to us.

Because I have equated the transformative cycle of initiation with that of the Hero’s Journey, I have also shown that a complete cycle includes both a descent and an ascent. The initiate undergoes a total shattering of the self and then a reconstruction and a reintegration. Such a process is often painful and difficult, perhaps even profoundly so. Still, the purpose of this cyclic process is for the initiate to psychically die and be reborn so that she might evolve and succeed in integrating the archetypal cosmogonic cycle with the temporal world - in other words, to achieve her individual and her collective destiny. In order to play a part in the destiny of the world, the magician initiate must be fully engaged with that world. It is also important to be balanced enough to avoid the extremes of material imprisonment or material corruption. Therefore, to be a magician and an initiate it is important to be able to function in the material world so that she might help to change and transform it. A magician is not detached from this world, in fact, the world in its spiritual and material manifestations is the great teacher, guide and even the harsh mistress of trials and life threatening challenges.

Tomas also discussed in his Face Book comments that the Dark Night of the Soul was analogous to losing one’s connection to the Godhead and then experiencing the darkness of doubt, loss of faith and the miseries associated with suddenly being bereft and abandoned. While I don’t doubt that this is a real phenomena that an initiate can experience, it doesn’t necessarily follow that it is the same as the Dark Night of the Soul. The process of the transformative initiation cycle reaches its highest point when the initiate experiences a complete breakdown and shattering of the self. Would that kind of experience also produce the same feelings that one might mistakenly think is the Dark Night of the Soul? Certainly it would be painful, perhaps even agonizingly so, and it would seem that one is deserted, alone and without any advocates or assistance. As I have stated previously, when this happens in a successful initiatory cycle it is just one of many stages. So these feelings, however intense, quickly pass as the initiate experiences the next stage, which is union with the opposite and hidden dark-self and a complete revitalization and restoration.

When I have undergone this process I have experienced the pain of the breakdown and shattering of the self, but it is always followed by the joy and celebration of rebirth. I could indulge in the pain and attempt to prolong it, but I see no reason to do so. The natural cycle consists of a shattering and a breaking down of the psyche into the rudimentary parts, and then a corresponding powerful regeneration and rebirth. Why would I attempt to block or halt this natural process? I suspect that doing so would distort or even cripple the transformative process, making it like a regressive fall into madness. Yet the tendency to rebirth seems to be much too powerful to resist.

My case is that a magician experiences a total shattering and destruction of his psyche instead of experiencing a Dark Night of the Soul . He might believe that this experience is the Dark Night of the Soul if he is so romantically inclined. That is what I think is being described by initiates and magicians who believe that they have experienced this phenomenon. I don’t either doubt or dismiss what they have experienced, but I choose to frame it differently because to me the whole context of the experience is a magical process, and it is startlingly different from what a mystic undergoes. 

Still, the question remains that Tomas has pointed out in his Face Book discussions. Can one loose their connection to the Godhead and still be a magician? This statement reminds me of that song by REM “Losing My Religion.”

“Consider this

Consider this, the hint of the century

Consider this, the slip

That brought me to my knees, failed

What if all these fantasies come

Flailing around

Now I've said too much” REM - “Losing My Religion” (part of the lyrics)

When it comes right down to it I suppose anything is possible in the various experiences and phenomena of magic; but losing one’s connection to the Godhead is a peculiar one, at least in my opinion. Let me explain why I think that this is so.

I have defined ritual magick as the methodology that incorporates the practice of godhead assumption as the fundamental state of consciousness for all magical work. So, that means that an initiate who performs magic is doing so under the aegis of his or her personal godhead. If that is a prerequisite then it would be difficult to lose connection to the greater Godhead and the One because the personal godhead is synonymous with the greater Godhead. There is no difference except in one’s mind and perceptions.

As the initiate progresses through the transformative processes of initiation, the apparent differences melt away and the initiate becomes more aware of the Godhead Within and the greater Godhead Without, and that they are one and the same. Is there any possibility that one might lose their connection with the personal Godhead? Perhaps in the beginning when it is a new experience which hasn’t become an integral part of the magician’s innate nature; but once it does, then any kind of spiritual disconnection is unlikely to occur. It wouldn’t be impossible, but such an occurrence would represent a catastrophic setback. It would be a total nullification of one’s entire initiatory process.

In all of the years that I have practiced ritual magick, I have never experienced this kind of loss of connection. I am aware of my inner godhead and often it resonates in a synchronous manner with the greater Godhead. Sometimes my mundane life has most of my attention and at other times my magical and pagan religious work are my primary focus. I also need to manage and balance living in the material world with being a pagan, witch and a ritual magician. I am focused on world events, thus making me worldly, but I also am keenly aware of magical and spiritual processes within and outside of me as well.

As a magician, I am seeking to be a master of both the material and spiritual world, since from my perspective, they are one and the same. What this means is that I experience a cycle of magical and mundane occurrences, and both of these occurrences are part of the overall process of conscious evolution. They are just part of a greater continuum that reaches from my unique individual experience and perception of life and its meaning all the way to the absolute levels of being. In my opinion, the road to self-mastery is where these different levels become unified into just one level all within my overall perception. Perhaps the one Tarot card that epitomizes that whole process to me is Atu V, the Hierophant.

Anyway, I have never been in a situation where I have not had, in some manner, a connection with the Godhead. For me it is only a matter of precedence, intensity and focus. I have never lost my “religion” since it is completely integral to my being. I know the nature of Spirit from my experiences with it, but I also know that it resides wholly and completely within matter, and the truth is that there is no distinction between them except in my mind. My beliefs and my faith are based on my experiences. From these experiences I seek to derive various maps, rules and doctrines that encapsulate what I have experienced. This is an evolving process, so what I hold to be true today will undoubtably change tomorrow. It is quite a different process than holding particular truths and doctrines based on faith alone, which is the starting point where the mystic begins his or her path.

Someday, perhaps in the future, I hope that I will be able to completely eliminate the distinction in my mind between spirit and matter, and when that happens, I will know what it is like to be a man and a god simultaneously. Until that time, I will continue my work and strive to realize the mystery and nature of the Godhead within me, and by outward projection, to know it in the world.

Frater Barrabbas

From Polytheism to Monism - A Natural Progression - Part 2

This is part 2 of a two part series of articles on the nature of pagan monism, it's history and importance to modern paganism. Since I have written that I am a monist, I felt that it was important to define exactly what that was, and how I used it in my study and practice. Part 2 contains an historical narrative that shows how monism developed and evolved over time. I will be focusing on that evolution within Greek philosophy, but such a transition also occurred elsewhere, most particularly in India, where monism was perfected and retained its non-dual nature.

A Very Brief Historical Exposition of Greek Philosophy     

The first Greek philosopher to propose a form of philosophical monism was the Ionian Greek, Thales of Miletus (624 - 546 BCE). He proposed what was known as a form of material monism, where the unifying attribute was proposed to be the element of water. While this was a new concept amongst the Greeks, it was not new to other cultures, such as Mesopotamia or Egypt, and it is likely that Thales, who was well traveled, may have acquired his perspective through the diffusion of ideas from other geographic cultures. (Thomas McEviley, in his book, proposes that the diffusion of ideas between different geographic locations occurred as readily as the dispersion of trade goods, and very likely followed the same pathways.)

Thale’s proposition is considered a semi-abstraction by modern philosophers, representing a kind of substrate monism, which is the hypothesis that reality has a foundational unity underlying all material manifestation. Thales chose water as his primordial element, but others who came after him proposed other elements, such as air or fire. The idea inherent in this hypothesis was that the primordial element changed its form and appearance through various processes (evaporation, condensation, contraction, etc.) to emulate the variety of different physical forms and substances. This new perspective represented a post mythological concept, merging the elements of both natural science and philosophic abstraction. However, it also retained a certain mythological flexibility along with its more material based hypothesis. Even so, this hypothesis took the idea of the origin of the material universe out of the mythic narrative involving the personalities and actions of deities to an abstract terminology. It was, in a word, the birth of philosophy out of religious and mythological discourse.

So substrate monism evolved, eventually losing its material form until that unifying attribute became Being itself. This occurred because if a material basis was ascribed as the source, then the very nature of that element became negated. For instance, if everything was based on the element of water, then the qualities of water ceased to be relevant or meaningful. This was also true no matter what physical attribute was ascribed to the source, whether water, air, fire, or all four elements - fire, water, air and earth - such as what Empedocles proposed later on. It was only when the substrate monism became associated with an attribute that was beyond any specific named entity or quality was it able to become established beyond logical refutation. That final determiner became the very nature of being itself, which was proposed as the unity underlying all things. In India, the substrate monism was called “brahman,” (with a small “b”) which means being, and in Greek, it was called “apeiron” (indefinite).

The process of demythologizing the concept of the One was started by the pre-Socratic philosopher named Anaximander (610 - 546 BCE) who proposed that the principle element was indeterminate, or as he named it, apeiron. Anaximander proposed that the One was unlimited and unbounded, thereby releasing its association with any quantifiable element or specifically identifiable thing, thereby making it a conceptual abstraction. Yet it was Xenophanes (570 - 475 BCE) who pushed the conceptualization of the One to its ultimate and conclusive definition. First of all, Xenophanes criticized anthropomorphism as a cultural or ego based projection, proposing that the One must be formless and contain no knowable attributes. He was the founder of Eleatic monism, which postulated that the One is coexistent with the world of the Many, but only the One is real.

Thus Eleatic monism was a kind of philosophic pantheism. He also proposed that the One is both the universal subject and object (everything that you see is the One, and everything that sees is the One). However, if the One is real, then senses that perceive the Many are actually experiencing an illusion. Therefore, knowledge of the Many cannot occur without introducing this error. The One is, the Many merely seem to be. Additionally, the One has two modes, formed and formless, but only the formless is real. The formed is the mechanism whereby the Many are created, therefore ensuring the integrity of the One. This is a distinction between the absolute (as the One) and relative being (the Many). Xenophanes proposed a world where the gods and humans both lived in a finite and illusory world similarly diminished by the transcendental One, being therefore a kind of psychic projection of themselves.

Once the source and underlying unity was defined as being, then a division occurred between that source as One, and everything else, which was called the Many. In order to establish a non-dual perspective, which was the underlying purpose to these hypotheses, it was important to signify one or the other as the true reality (they couldn’t both be real), and that made the corresponding other as unreal or illusory. Therefore, in India, the material world (the Many) was called Maya (illusion) and in Greek, Doxa (seeming) or Ananke (necessity), and these became personified as a kind of philosophical goddess in both systems.

It was further determined that the One was perfect, formless (yet conceptually spherical), static and unchanging, since the material world of the Many was constantly changing and mutating, although in a periodic and cyclic manner. The One had to be differentiated from the Many, so they assumed opposite qualities. The true reality was the transcendent One, and the illusory world of constant change was the material based Many. It was a polarity between Being and Non-being, but it had the unfortunate impact of negating the whole of the material world. There was also the problem of reconciling creation, where the One became manifested as the Many. Since the One was considered static and unmovable, and the Many was in constant motion, it was paradoxical to consider that somehow something static would be able to instigate the motion of the material world - something had to drive that which was in motion. Early thinking had postulated that the One actually existed in two states to enable creation of the Many, but this was quickly supplanted by the addition of a new quality.

Beginning with Pythagoras, the problem of how the static and unchanging One was able to manifest into the many was resolved through the use of intermediaries, in this case, the base-ten numbers, the four elements, and then later the triangle as the first perfect form (such as the tetractys, which is a triangle incorporating the numbers one through ten). Although Pythagoras considered the number 1 to represent the monistic godhead, the rest of the numbers established a kind of foundational mathematics that facilitated the creation of forms. These intermediaries were referred to as the Few, and they adopted both the static and changeableness qualities of the One and the material world. They were the drivers of the constant change of the material world. Later on, Plato would propose that the Few was also populated with the world of ideas (what Jung would later call archetypes), building a philosophical system that explained how the Many were formed from the One through the intermediation of the Few.

This model could thus be explained in the following manner.

One (static, contraction, formless, unchanging, transcendent, true reality, being)

                                       |

Few (static and changing, primordial forms, expansion, prime mover, ideas, proto-being)

                                       |

Many (changing, cyclic, driven, diverse forms, immanent, illusion, non-being)

There is a problem with this philosophical construct, and that is the fact that the material world is judged as illusory and without being. Since human beings who inhabit the material world seem to have aspects that could be considered relative to both that world and the true reality, one would have to propose that each human being contains within them an aspect of that source of all being. This element can be either considered illusory and ignored (as in Buddhism) or completely incorporated within one’s practice, such as in the Indian Tantras. Pagan magic (theurgy) would also follow the path established by Indian Tantra (in my opinion), but there is still the problem of how to engage with the material world when it is considered to be an illusion.

Another alternative philosophical perspective that contradicted and disputed the claim that the material world was illusory was inaugurated by the philosophical writings of Democritus (460 - 370 BCE). He proposed the opposite notion, that the material world apprehended by the senses was the only true reality and that the monist substrate was occupied by matter in the form of atoms. These two hypotheses were constantly at war with each other, since they represented two diametrical positions. Plato ended up being the one who lionized the former, and Aristotle, the latter. This dichotomy continues to this day, with those who are aligned to an occult or religious perspective in the west that is based on Platonism, and those who are aligned with a scientific perspective that is based on Aristotle. We can see it in the opposition of the modern philosophy of Kant and Locke, and it continues to trouble, more or less, adherents of either persuasion.

However, as a modern pagan, I find myself unable to fully adopt the original concept where the material world is judged to be merely an illusion. I have found both joy and sorrow living in a body in the material world, but I feel that all aspects of this sensory experience represent a greater overall good. Perhaps I am an optimist because nothing really tragic or devastating has ever  occurred to me in my life. I have managed to avoid war, destruction and catastrophe in my life so far, but even so, there seems to me to be a kind of fundamental reality and even a preciousness associated with life in the material world. This, despite the fact that death is an expected outcome of life, no matter what is done to forestall or mitigate it in some manner.

One pre-Socratic philosopher that I haven’t mentioned so far is Heraclitus of Ephesus (535 - 475 BCE). He was known as the “riddler” because his writings were considered to be so obscure. Professor McEviley has speculated that Heraclitus made his break-through philosophical proposals with the help of a translated copy of several of the Indian Upanishads. He took an interesting stand in regards to the paradox of the One and the Many, using a logic defying approach that unites all opposites, including the opposites of the One and the Many. He stated that there must be a balance between the One and the Many. In this fashion, we might approach the nature of the Many as saying that it is both an illusion as well as real, depending on our momentary point of view. It could also propose that the One is static and yet also capable of moving and changing, representing the fact that any hardened definition about something that is highly abstract (and absolute) cannot be fully completely validated.

I believe that there has to be some kind of variance in our philosophical perspectives and opinions instead of proposing absolutes, and that any hypothesis only approaches the greater truth to a certain extent. What this does is to make any and all systems of philosophy and religion to be uncertain and not knowable in the absolute sense; that the absolute reality is essentially unknowable and unknown. I suspect that this approach allows for a greater overall flexibility so that we, as modern occultists, can accept both our occult metaphysics and modern science simultaneously without any dichotomy or dissonance.

We can therefore rejoice in the majesty and beauty of the material world, marvel at the advances of modern science and see the manifestation of Spirit in the wonder of nature. We can also change this perspective and see what is behind the material reality that is the domain of Spirit, and we can also personally experience the union of all being that connects everything into a single essential experience of one-ness. All of these perspectives are valid in their turn, and none of them can either contradict or negate the others. If any of them can be experienced in some manner and rationally determined, then they are as real as the solid material reality in which we live.

Yet pervading the manifestation of these many diverse and different perspectives is the One, which can only be experienced within ourselves, and then in the most exalted states of consciousness. The Few, as the archetypes of the unifying consciousness of being as it exists in the domain of the Many, is also important, since it represents the instruments through which the One is able to impact and shape the material world. We can use these instruments to manipulate the material world or to achieve conscious union with the One.

Epilogue

I think that the origin of monism is a human response to the overwhelming great variety of material things found in the world. It is based on the same ordering principle or impulse that drove the derivation of early astronomy, geometry and basic music theory. It is the desire to find that one unifying principle behind the multiple derivations of the material world. It is based on the concept that if everything is distinct and unique, then the greater world is unknowable, and that anything can only be known singularly and distinctly. As Thomas McEviley has stated so eloquently:

“The preoccupation with the Problem of the One and the Many expressed a desire to know the universe in some larger sense than that, by finding principles which would render every situation knowable with or without direct experience of it. Superficial diversity was to be tamed and made knowable by apprehension of underlying unity.”

This need to know and understand the unknowable is what drives modern science and also occult and various spiritual speculations. To achieve this end, seekers search out common attributes that can be used to determine the underlying structures or unity that generates a greater knowledge out of the apparent diversity of various phenomena. This is why I believe that acquiring a monistic spiritual perspective is so important, natural and has profound consequences.

Frater Barrabbas