Queen Maeve

Queen Maeve
Maeve, by J.C. Leyendecker, 1907

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Inner Home, Outer Home, Cosmic Home

Inner Home, Outer Home, Cosmic Home

by Ian Elliott     Oct. 24th, 2013



Prof. Allan Anderson, of San Diego State University, once advised his students to “begin building a world for yourself from the inside out.”  The word ‘world’ is often used to translate the Greek kosmos, and refers to the world as it appears to our senses, with a dome overhead and a horizon around us.  Ignorant people unaware of this meaning of the word think that scriptural references to the roundness of the world prove that ancient peoples knew the planet earth to be round.  Until classical times, the concept of the earth as a planet was nonexistent. 

When we use the ancient concept of a cosmos, therefore, we should understand it in the terms in which it was anciently understood.  Our present expanding astronomical knowledge of billions of galaxies lying at unimaginable distances, besides terrifying the ancients, would have seemed to them irrelevant, since the cosmos is a home in which we all live.  It contains the sun and moon, wandering stars called planets (‘wanderers’), and fixed stars, with occasional interlopers like comets and meteorites.  There is earth under our feet and sea roundabout.  Day follows night and the seasons revolve predictably.  All of this goes to make our cosmic home.  We can relate to this cosmic home without denying the wider and deeper knowledge provided by science.  Both concepts have their uses.

Theories of creation from antiquity (including, when it is honestly translated, the account in the first chapter of Genesis) aver that our cosmic home was put back together from a ruined state, and it was expected, in at least the writings of the Hindus, Egyptians and Norse, that it would eventually founder and re-enter the ruined state.  The ruined state was called chaos, and it is a deliberate mistranslation of Genesis 1:2 to think of chaos as a void.  The word tohu in Hebrew means a desolation, as readily illustrated in Mesopotamia by the numerous mounds that once were cities, even in the earliest times, but were left standing isolated in the desert by the shifting of the Euphrates. [1]

The oldest accounts of this cycle of creation and destruction make it occur endlessly.  It was the Persians, as instructed by Zoroaster, who flattened out the cycles into one cycle only.  In so doing they invented history, but lost the ancient sense of involvement in an eternal succession of cycles. [2]

As regards life on land, it began on the supercontinent of Rodinia, between 1.1 billion and 750 million years ago, with the development of the ozone layer.  The ozone layer provides a protective shield (except over Antarctica in the wintertime, at least recently) against ultraviolet radiation.  Before the appearance of the ozone layer, life was possible only in the sea. [3]

This illustrates the primary act necessary in creating a cosmos.  A boundary must be established which keeps out energies which are too volatile and powerful for the entities living within the boundary.  Building boundaries is how the gods fashioned our cosmic home, and it is how we must go about building our outer and inner homes.  Homes that break up due to the alcoholism of one of the residents illustrate how the energy swings of alcohol are too volatile for the needs of an outer home; families require energies which are stabler and more peaceful.  The same is true of the personalities of residents in the family home; the terrible spectacle of the disintegration of a personality due to alcoholism or drug addiction illustrates the same principle of any sort of home anywhere: the principle of limitation.

Limitation is an unpopular term in the New Age.  There are many gurus and mouthpieces of ascended masters, and so forth, who teach people to eschew the idea of limitation and lay claim to their birthright of unlimited abundance. [4] But without limitation there is nothing.  Consider games.  The ancient Egyptian game of Senet was popular for so long in that culture that no one troubled to write down the rules.  We have a number of beautiful Senet boards and pieces, as well as stick dice, but we can only play with them; we cannot play Senet, for Senet consisted of the rules of the game, and these are lost. 

I can make each day into a day-cosmos, but only if I compose a list of rules to follow, involving things to do and things to avoid doing.  If I follow the list, my day will be a cosmos.  To the extent that I welch on the rules, my day-cosmos will be invaded by chaos.

If I make rules for myself and follow them consistently, I shall be building my inner home.  The rules would include excluding those energies, and whatever bears them, which are too volatile or unsettling, and including those energies and their bearers which have proven edifying.  This is what Prof. Anderson meant by building a world for oneself “from the inside out.”

The inner home is reflected in the outer home, the sacred household.  This is what Anderson meant by ‘out’ in his advice.  The inner home grows outward, into the outer home.  The outer home consists of a threshold, a hearth, and a pillar, among other things. 

Our eyes are the threshold of our inner home, as our ears are the windows.  Establishing a shrine to the threshold guardian (in Roman terms, Janus) on a small shelf next to or near the front door will ensure harmonious energy in the outer home, but only if we first establish our inner home’s threshold guardian.  Above the shelf a mask is hung, the face of Janus or another appropriate deity.  This face is conceived as a head penetrating the wall, with another face looking outside.  The ritual to Janus, used both to establish and reinforce his presence, could run thus:

Honor and thanks to you, O Janus,
For guarding the theshold of my home.
May only harmonious beings enter here,
And may the discordant depart!
Open this week (month, year, etc.) for me on blessings,
And teach me to look out and in at once, as you do,
Thus guarding the threshold of my inner home;
For I, too, am a threshold guardian.

Looking out and in at once means perceiving one’s surroundings while observing one’s inner thoughts and feelings.  We may think we do that already, but a little inspection will reveal that we generally alternate between the two.  If we do both together, we shall sense that we are looking out from under an arch, the parts of the head which can be seen without a mirror or other reflecting surface.  The arch was a sacred structure in ancient Italic religion. [5] Because the arch is open in front and back, one retains an active sense of what is occurring behind one’s observation point.  Spirits dwell there.

The deity in the Sun is the threshold guardian of our cosmic home, looking out on interstellar space, while looking inward on his or her children in the solar system.  That the Sun is, or contains, a guardian can be read in the tablets of both the Mesopotamians and the Hittites. [6]

An anthropologist among the Ainu of south Sakhalin Island (transplanted to Japan after WWII) was instructed by them to perceive in this way.  They pointed out that she did not do so as yet, as evinced by the fact that she was easily startled. [7] They warned her that in such moments of being startled, she was vulnerable to the ingress of hostile spirits.  This, then, is a good test of whether or not we have established our inner threshold guardian.  Once we are calm and not easily startled, we can project that calm bi-directional perception into the idol face hanging above our front-door shrine.

If we are so fortunate as to have a fireplace or something resembling a hearth, it is all the easier to establish a hearth shrine.  The hearth corresponds to the heart, but the heart as anciently conceived, the center of thought and feeling.  The goddess of the hearth (Hestia for the Greeks, Vesta for the Romans, Gabija for the ancient Balts, Brighid for the Celts) lives in the fire ignited there, at the very least in a candle.  She is the life of the outer home and provides, besides heat and light, connection with the ancestors and deities in general.  Offerings are made to her, some of which she is asked to pass on to the ancestors and the gods.  Prayers to the gods can be made through her. [8]

When the psychologist C.G. Jung visited the Pueblo Indians in the American Southwest, he had a conversation with the chief Ochwiay Biano (Mountain Lake), who astonished him by saying “The white man’s eyes are always restless.  He is always looking for something.  We think he is mad.”

“Why do you think we are mad?” Jung asked.

“You say you think with your heads,” the chief replied.

“Why of course.  What do you think with?”

“We think here,” he said, indicating his chest, or, possibly, his solar plexus. [9]

When we have established our Janus perception and acquired a sense of standing in an archway, keeping in view our apparent headlessness, [10] we can understand Ochwiay Biano’s statement; for the nearest part of our body in clear view will be the chest area.  Our conditioning to ignore our headlessness, which makes us look out and in alternately, creates an identification with our heads as the location of our mental activity.  This identification is not the same as the anatomical brain.  It is an abstract mental construct which replaces the continual perception of our headlessness, of our arch atop the solar plexus.

When we deal with the world from a sense of location in the chest, we shall have engaged our inner hearth, and from that we can honor and offer to the Hearth Guardian, and, through her, to the ancestors and gods.

The ancestors are contacted through memory.  For a while this is just ordinary memory, but little by little we begin to recover the actual flavor of events in the past, their atmosphere when we lived them.  Then we feel an unusual vigor in our hearts (or thereabouts).  In Ifé or West African religion, it was considered important to contact the ancestors and draw strength from them.  If we drag through the days carrying a weight of depression, we are simply depleted of this energy we can receive from the ancestors.  There is a lovely film about drawing strength from the ancestors, called “Daughters of the Dust.” [11]

A cosmos, then, exists on many levels, like the nested babushkas [12] from Russian folk art, one inside another.  Whatever is capable of evolving contains an inner cosmic home. [13] The outer home, our sacred household, works like an electrical transformer, stepping up the voltage of our prayers and offerings and stepping down the responses from the gods and demigods in our cosmic home.  Naturally we don’t expect our physical home to evolve, but as the sacred household it provides a meeting-place for its inhabitants with cosmic energies promoting their evolution.

In ancient times many homes contained a pillar, generally next to the centrally-located hearth and thus almost directly under the smoke-hole in the roof.  The master of the house had his chair next to the pillar, and in Lapp homes before conversion, he grasped an iron nail driven into the pillar at shoulder height so he could feel the power of Thorr in the storm. [14]

The pillar of the outer home corresponds to the spine of the inner home, or, rather, the astral structures that lie along the spine.  These are described in yoga as a central channel called the sushumna, around which coil two smaller channels called the ida and pingala.  Where the three come together are power centers called chakras.  These are variously described as wheels or lotuses, and serve as portals to other dimensions within the cosmic home.  Many other cultures describe similar structures (for instance, the Hopis), [15] though they may differ as to the number of centers.  For the Norse, the corresponding structure in the cosmic home was the World Ash Tree, called Yggdrasil or Othin’s steed (Ygg was one of Othin’s many names), and nine worlds ranged along it.

Where is this World Tree?  If the cosmos looks different depending on which dimension of it is being viewed, the tree itself could stand for the sequential possibility of different states of consciousness.  The middle power center is the one explored by science, on the large scale by the science of astronomy. 

The pillar of the outer home, whether it is physically present or not, stands for the spiritual aspiration of the residents of the home.  All should be committed to their individual paths to enlightenment or evolution, though no two residents, perhaps, will use the same form of meditation or askesis in its pursuit.  The place where I meditate is in front of my pillar, and as I meditate I move up and down my own inner pillar.

The description of a family collectively dedicated to spiritual growth can be read in Lizelle Reymond’s charming autobiographical sketch, My Life with a Brahmin Family. [16] In the case of the Craft, the coven is such a family, even though the coveners live under separate roofs.

And when the coveners come together in the circle, they share their inner homes, casting the circle as an outer threshold. They invoke the Lady as their hearth guardian, and reaching through her and the Lad to their ancestors, each down his or her inner pillar, together they raise the Cone of Power.
 
* * * * *



Bibliography

Works cited, other than internet addresses:


Dash, Julie, Daughters of the Dust (film), Kino Video, 1991.

Davidson, Hilda Ellis, The Lost Beliefs of Northern Europe, New York, Barnes &
         Noble, 1993.

Harding, Douglas Edison, On Having No Head, London and New York, 1981.

Jung, Carl Gustav, Memories, Dreams, Reflections, New York, Random House,
         1965.

Le Guin, Ursula, Lavinia, Orlando et al., Harcourt, Inc., 2008.

Ohnuka-Tierney, Emiko, Ainu of the Northwest Coast of Southern Sakhalin,
         Long Grove, IL, Waveland Press, 1984.

Ouspensky, Peter Demianovich, The Fourth Way, New York, Random House,
         1971.

Reymond, Lizelle, My Life with a Brahmin Family, Baltimore, Penguin, 1958.

Trinkunas, Jonas, ed. Of Gods and Holidays, Vilnius, Tvermé, 1999.

Waters, Frank, Book of the Hopi, New York, Penguin, 1963.



 




[1][1] See Wikipedia article on tohu bohu, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tohu_wa-bohu.
[2] There are cycles in Zoroastrianism, but they come to an end at the day of judgment.
[3] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rodinia.
[4] See for instance the Unlimited Abundance program, http://www.unlimitedabundance.com/#sthash.HJllAVtR.dpbs.
[5] See for instance the recent novel Lavinia, by Ursula le Guin.
[6] The Norse warrior god and guardian of justice Tyr, or Tiwaz, was the Luwian name for the Hattic Sun god Ishtanu.  Luwia was an important part of the Hittite confederacy. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hittite_mythology.
[7] See the study Ainu of the Northwest Coast of Southern Sakhalin, by E.O. Tierney.
[8][8] For Gabija, see Of Gods and Holidays, ed. by Jonas Trinkunas.
[9] Jung, C.G., Memories, Dreams, Reflections, pp. 247-8.
[10] See On Having No Head, by D.E. Harding.
[11] An independent film directed by Julie Dash, 1991.
[12] As generally misnamed.  They are more correctly called matryoshka dolls.
[13] See Ouspensky, P.D., The Fourth Way, p. 187.
[14] See The Lost Beliefs of Northern Europe, by Hilda Ellis Davidson, p. 83.
[15] See Waters, Frank, Book of the Hopi, pp. 222-3.
[16] Reymond, Lizelle, My Life with a Brahmin Family.  See bibliography.

Thursday, November 21, 2013

The Lady and the Elemental Powers


The Lady and the Elemental Powers

 by Ian Elliott    Oct. 15th – Nov. 16th, 2013

  

Introduction


As pagans, we are aware of being children of Mother Earth.  She carries us with her from life to life as she evolves at the slow pace of goddesses; for, as a good Mother, she wants to take all of her children with her in her evolutionary journey. 

Pagans are therefore in no hurry but, as a courtesy, should wish to develop their awareness to the next level, so as not to be a burden to their Mother but rather help her along. 

Life thus is school for the children of Earth, and for those who wish to evolve more swiftly, becoming prefects, as it were, in her school, special schools called mystery schools are provided in each age.  The Craft of the Wise is one such mystery school.

A mystery school is so called precisely because its teaching and discipline are designed to effect an evolutionary leap for its successful pupils, who therefore progress towards a consummation which cannot be conceived at the beginning of their studies. This evolutionary leap is called the transmutation in the Craft, and it will occur in some future life, whether during a gross material incarnation here in Middle-Earth, or while in the ætheric body in the Summerland, during the sojourn between lives.  Until then, witches will probably still need to be reborn, but the number of reincarnations will be fewer.  Along the way in the Craft there are anticipations of the eventual transmutation in the form of initiations.

Awareness or consciousness is held to consist of four principal powers plus a fifth, which must be cultivated together in a balanced fashion for awareness to develop.  These are the power to know, to will, to dare, and to keep silence or still.  When these are cultivated together for a sufficient time, with the help of the Lady and the demigod known as the Lord or Lad, a fifth power, the power to go (that is, to go on ætheric journeys), is the result.  These five powers are the inner elemental powers of the classical elements of Air, Fire, Water, Earth and Æther, respectively.  Each forms a body within the gross material body of the witch, and each is nourished by its appropriate food.  Air is nourished by proper breathing, Fire by proper perception, Water by proper drinking, Earth by proper nourishment of solid food, and Æther by proper awareness. 

Our Western tradition of the Craft comes from the last mystery schools of Egypt, which were still extant in the late Saitic period just preceding the Persian conquest.  Some of them, along with schools in Babylon, lasted until the time of Alexander the Great.  The Egyptian wisdom was taught to the sage Pythagoras, who brought it to southern Italy, where for some time the Etruscan aristocracy patronized the Pythagorean communities there, and it found further development in the teachings of the sage and wizard Empedocles, who taught the doctrine of the elemental powers. [1] The mystery teachings of Babylon were brought west by the philosopher-sage Poseidonius, [2] and the schools of Italy were revived by the wisdom brought all the way from India in the first century C.E. by the sage and wonder-worker Apollonius of Tyana.  It is likely that he was the one who brought the teachings of the Grigori, the Watchers of the four quarters, from the school of the Medes in Babylon, where they were called the Iygges. [3]

The mystery schools of Italy survived the catholic persecution into the Dark Ages, with branches in the Basque country, whence they crossed the Bay of Biscay (which means Basque) to Devonshire and Cornwall.  This is only one strand of historical development which led to the secret cult of Witchcraft in medieval Britain.  The Bacchic Mysteries entered into the Craft as well.  Some of the arcana, such as the teaching of the Watchers, were preserved in ceremonial magic, as taught for instance in the school of Toledo. [4] Later there was a confluence of this teaching with that of folk magic.  Gerald Gardner depicted this process of amalgamation of the two traditions fictionally in his novel High Magic’s Aid. [5]

The Lady of Witchcraft has three aspects: Maiden, Mother and Crone.  While she favors different times of the year, day and the lunar month with these aspects, she is also “old or young as she wishes.” [6] This means that she can manifest as Maiden, Mother or Crone on any occasion, and exhibits her influence in ways not dependent on the time of day, lunar month or year. 

The Maiden governs purification, the Mother consecration, and the Crone charging or transmutation. 

Purification involves the clearing out of stale energy, to make room for fresh.  Stale energy was referred to by the ancients as ‘miasma,’ and was regarded as poisonous.  Spring cleaning is an age-old method of purification, traditionally carried out in February, when the Maiden returns.  The name ‘February’ refers to purification. 

The office of the Maiden is evident in the fact that if we want some new thing to come into our lives, we must relinquish some old thing.  Some New Age writers like to suggest that we can immediately access abundance.  They fail to recognize the fact that our hands are never empty.  Thus, we always already have abundance, though it may include elements we would rather go without. 

We already contain within ourselves all the magical energy or personal power we need to develop, but much of our energy is locked up in habits which squander it without giving us a profitable return on our efforts.  These include nervous movements, expressions of negative emotion, and inner conversations and imagination.  In order to develop as witches, we must free our energies from these energy knots, and we do so by engaging our efforts with the offices of the Maiden.


Air, the Power to Know


Knowledge, like air, seeks to penetrate everywhere, and all living beings share it among them.  Different creatures have different capacities for using air and knowledge, and we see this variation even among members of the same species.  Humans differ in how they make use of air and knowledge, according to whether or not they engage with the energy of the Maiden.  Some people know a lot of information, but they typically pigeonhole anything new in terms of the old, saying “that sounds like…” Academics in particular are subject to this gradual ossification of their understanding.  Past a certain age, they settle down in their opinions and appear incapable of learning anything really new.  Their knowledge is often very intricate, but its subtle interconnectedness actually serves to exclude new, fresh knowledge, such as that which they started with in youth and which guided them in laying the foundations of their future prison.  In this they are like people who almost never take full breaths of air, starting with a full exhalation.  A full exhalation exhibits the Maiden’s power as manifested in breathing.

So far we are speaking of knowledge in general, but in this paper we are concerned with that special knowledge which advances us in the Craft.  In order to receive new understanding from the Watcher of the East, we must make room for it by hearing new knowledge as new, as if we had never encountered anything like it before.  This is how we took in knowledge in youth, when it excited us and began building the foundation of our inner home.  If we take in a teaching as mere information, as being on the same level as a novel or academic textbook, it will pass through us like sands in an hourglass; we shall retain nothing energizing from it.

The Mother governs consecration.  Consecration inaugurates a path which we follow throughout life, and which involves a deep sense of commitment on the part of the learner.  The new knowledge freed from miasma by the Maiden is brought into focus by the Mother and lives within the witch like an unborn child. The same process takes place with the magical purpose.  It is divined through the offices of the Maiden, but conceived within witch or wizard by the fructifying power of the Mother.  Thereafter, as long as we keep it alive and nourish it, the Mother will cause it to grow within us, until when we are ready to cast the spell, when we shall be pregnant with it, and ‘heavy with child.’

The Crone governs charging or transmutation.  Her touch is the touch of initiation, of change of consciousness.  She is not gentle like the Mother, but cataclysmic.  The casting of a spell is like giving birth, which (if I as a male may presume to say so) is far from easy.  At any rate, this is the closest a male witch, a wizard, can come to the ordeal of childbirth endured by women.  Whether casting a spell or undergoing initiation into one of the degrees of the Craft, one must engage one’s efforts and focused energy with the transforming power of the Crone.

 
Fire, the Power to Will

 
The very name of the Craft tells us that it is something done and not merely a body of knowledge.  It involves skilled making, both of external things and of things internal to the witch, his or her inner home.

Learning itself is of course something done, and if we learn in the right way, we will prepare ourself for many other forms of doing and making.  Jñana Yoga, the yoga of knowledge, teaches us that we can learn something from every experience.  Even if we encounter ignorant or obnoxious people, they teach us by negative example if nothing else, and there may be a small light of understanding flickering somewhere in their murky darkness, which we will only see later on reflection.  So instead of arguing with such people, much less insulting them, we should take in the lesson they present, wittingly or unwittingly.  Note that word ‘should’; except for the Rede, there are no oughts in the Craft, so when we say ‘should,’ we mean that it will be better for our energy, our personal power, if instead of squandering it in anger or frustration we use it to open the wings of understanding and take in the lesson in front of us.  Whoever teaches us, especially in a positive sense, deserves our thanks, and these people are often astonished at our gratitude, and this in turn helps to open their own minds a little more.

As the Maiden helps us to make room for new knowledge, she engages her office of purification with the element of Fire as well as that of Air.  Fire’s inner power is will, and will is inseparable from action.  In setting aside old assumptions, we will probably feel some resistance and irritation, as old habits do not go willingly.  At this point we must make an effort to avail ourselves of the Maiden’s power to help us let go of stale energy in order to make room for something fresh to enter.  The effort creates friction; there is a sort of argument inside us between something saying ‘yes’ and something else saying ‘no’.  It is this friction which throws off sparks, creating the inner heat the Hindus call tapas, the power of self-discipline.  This tapas is simply another name for the elemental power of fire, the power to will.

The Lady turns the Sun-Wheel, and the Sun-Wheel is an ancient symbol which describes not only the round of the seasons, but also the elemental powers.  The circle of the Sun-Wheel has handles extending from the cusps of the circle, that is, from the transition points between the four elemental quarters, the northeast, southeast, southwest and northwest points.  The handles extend backward counter-clockwise, forming the sacred symbol known as the svastika.  Some svastikas show little handles extending counter-clockwise from all eight points.  Whether there are four or eight handles, the Lady grasps them in order to twirl the Sun-Wheel sunwise or clockwise.  Handles extending the other way are for twirling the Sun-Wheel tuathal or anti-clockwise.  Both symbols are found in ancient cultures worldwide.  The tuathal svastika, long before it was tarnished by the Nazis, was employed in ancient Britain by the Fomorians, who were oriented to the Dark Moon cycle.  Subsequent Celtic Craft traditions favor the deosil or sunwise svastika.

The svastika is a fire-drill as seen from above. [7] The World Pillar runs through its center down to each witch’s ‘Deep,’ where the Lady turns it among the flints of the witch’s habits and predilections.  She will do this in proportion to our own efforts, and if we call on her aid, she will remind us at various times to carry on the argument within between the ‘yes’ of new energy and the ‘no’ of stale miasma.  The same process takes place on a larger scale in the coven celebrating the Wheel of the Year and circling the Witches’ Rune to raise the Cone of Power.

Taking it in perhaps its simplest form, struggle against a nervous or compulsive habit, one examines the habit as a chain of events and actions.  Perhaps we fidget when we sit for a long time in a chair and are trying to read.  The event immediately preceding the nervous fidgeting (or whatever it is) is called the trigger.  The trigger may be taking up a book, or sitting a certain way, say with the legs crossed. The moment before the trigger is generally free of compulsion , and if it can be caught by awareness, one can make oneself get out of the chair at that point and, say, walk to the kitchen.  I am taking personal examples, but something analogous must occur for everyone with this problem.  If I succeed in breaking the chain by getting up at that point, I feel a little grain of strength, of resistance in me that wasn’t there before.  The events of my day from that point on will have a different quality and may well take a different course.  It’s amazing how little changes of this sort can give one more energy and snowball into bigger changes.  And this is a good example of working with the power of fire, for one always starts with little things.

So now we have a little extra energy we usually fritter away in the fidgets; but the next minute we squander it, by yelling at someone (or worse, at no one – the computer), or by mentally repeating a conversation we had with someone earlier and arguing with him or her; or by worrying about this or that which may or may not happen in the future.  There are many ways to waste our energy, our personal power.

Laurel and Hardy once made a film where they bought an old fishing boat and poured water in it to find where the hull leaked.  That is the next step after stopping a habit; we must observe and see where we leak and lose the extra energy we just gained.  Then we find the leaks and begin to plug them.  That is the preliminary work of fire, and we carry it out with the help of the Maiden.

When we have plugged some of our leaks, we can direct the energy saved to a project. Perhaps we have dedicated to the Craft, so that in addition to continuing general study of lore and skills, we decide on a particular skill for which we feel an affinity.  If another coven member has practiced that skill for some time, we may decide to work with him or her as an apprentice in herblore and craft, in traditional handicrafts (particularly those connected with pre-christian culture), in divination or spellcraft, and so forth.  This is work on the second line, work with others.  One is helped by a senior member and later pays forward by helping another member in turn. 

Finding room for the Craft in our typically busy schedules involves invoking help from the Maiden to find the right activity to sacrifice, or spend less time at, in order to make room for Craft activity.  For instance, you may feel it necessary to take a little time early in the morning for meditation.  There is no specific form of meditation practiced by witches; rather, each witch meditates ‘after her (or his) ways.’  But the way once taken should be adhered to regularly, and at a regular time of day or night.  If you try to set aside a meditation period and encounter conflict with other interests, these are perhaps the leaks in your boat which need to be patched.  At any rate, the Maiden is pointing out to you a possible sacrifice.

Fire’s quarter is in the South, which was the direction of sacrifice in PIE (proto-Indo-European) rituals.  The sacrificial fire was at the southern end of the ritual area, which was rectangular in PIE times.  The ancestors were in the South, and prayers and sacrifices were made to them in the sacrificial fire-pit. [8]

When we have established a period of meditation, and/or a period of study or perhaps handiwork connected with a Craft skill, we will come to feel a new fullness within and a feeling of dedication to our new work with Fire.  The Mother is blessing our work with her power of consecration.  Provided we continue with our practice, we shall reinforce this feeling in us; we shall feel that we are getting somewhere.  If we are not attempting too much to begin with, we should be able to continue our work. Consecration lends an activity a place in one’s ongoing life story, just as an unborn child involves the life of its parents from the moment they know it is there and growing.  It is not a mere hobby like stamp-collecting, which we can take up and put down at whim.  The Craft itself often begins as a sort of hobby, but once the Mother has consecrated it, it acquires more weight.

In the course of time, our practice matures to the point where we develop a personal style, and feel increasingly energized by it.  The Crone takes our inner heat, our tapas, and uses it to ignite our awareness.  We feel that in divining, or making, or whatever we are doing, we are gaining insight into truths.  These truths are known through our own personal Craft – our knack, as it is called.  The knack is celebrated and symbolized in the Craft by the sacred loaf baked on Lammas Eve.

Water, the Power to Dare


If, in a given situation, I ask myself not merely what should I do, but what would a witch do, then I am exercising the power to know, the power of Air, in conjunction with the consecration of the Mother; for it is the Mother who consecrates us to witchcraft so that we feel personally involved in the Hidden Path.

On the other hand, the reason we were looking for something and happened on this path is due to the elemental power of Water, which makes us discontented with our present state and urges us to seek the unknown, to find something new and more satisfying to our nature.  Water’s inner power is called the power to dare, and it is not for timid souls content to live out their lives within familiar limits.  If we observe a waterfall we can see how impetuously water throws itself off the edge of a cliff, seeking wherever it happens to land, and then flowing on. 

Wherever it is, water seeks the lowest point, searching out the deep and secret places of the world instead of aspiring to the obvious heights.  The Maiden therefore helps us to let go of the security of the familiar so we can flow freely into the realms of the unfamiliar. 

When water encounters an obstacle, it goes around it by taking on its form.  Thus, in grief, we must take on the form of life without the beloved, and then we shall flow around the grief and out into new channels.  Water, seemingly one of the weakest things, is in fact irresistible in its force.                

The unknown can be sought lightly, as in taking a different route to work, or changing our morning or evening routines.  As with the work of Fire, it is best to start with small things and then we will go on to greater changes.  The greater changes could include seeking initiation.

The deep and secret things of the world are not far to seek.  They are close at hand, though not in front of our eyes.  They are secret because we are in the habit of ignoring them.  When we turn our attention to things we don’t usually notice, we loosen the hold of certain mental habits which are connected to the ways we use our attention.  These habits could be called energy knots, because they lock up some of our energies, preventing them from flowing freely. 

They manifest in dreams as a sort of synopsis explaining the situation to the dreamer and prescribing his or her actions.  For instance, we may find ourselves roaming endlessly through a large house, and occasionally coming out into the front or living room, but then going back into the halls and other interior rooms instead of going outside through a door which is obviously an exit.  If our dream begins to be more lucid, allowing us to see that we have choices, we may decide to leave the house through the exit door.  When we do that, we find ourselves outside.  Perhaps it is a crystal-clear night, and we can feel the cold air as we become much more lucid.  Now we know we are dreaming, and we have considerably more freedom of choice and movement than before.  We have managed to unravel an energy knot in our dream.

The same thing can happen in the waking state, as we turn our attention to background sounds, things seen out of the corners of the eyes, our own apparent headlessness (when we are not looking in a reflecting surface),[9] the play of shadows, and a number of other sensations usually ignored. [10] We soon begin to feel freer within, and the longer we can keep at it, the freer we shall feel. We begin to feel a cooling wind blowing through our bodies, and it blows us through our memories. 

This is where the Mother manifests in the power of Water.  She does so in two ways: as a feeling of joy in the journey we are taking, and in the form of older energy knots from long ago, which may include childhood enthusiasms or even lifelong predilections.  Witches, unlike mystics, are not concerned to unravel every energy knot they come across.  An early love of music, an attraction to the ancient Gods, a certain sense of humor may remain with the witch as he or she ascends back to everyday life in Middle-earth.  These are brought back and replace or supplement some of our current synopses or energy knots.  At the same time, the witch’s journey has unraveled several energy knots which were constraining his or her choices, leaving a spacious sense of freedom of inner and outer movement. 

After a number of these journeys, once we have decided on which knots we want to keep, at least for now, the Crone appears and her touch fuses our revised collection of concerns and perspectives into a new, magical personality.  This personality contains nothing that has not been part of the witch at one time or another, including far memories from previous lives; nevertheless, the combination that now appears is entirely new.  I the witch am much more myself than before, yet I am also most truly the person I have always been.



Earth, the Power to Keep Still

 
The Lady lives in the Earth and is the Earth.  The Earth is her gross material body.  Therefore North, the quarter of Earth, is called the place of power, and stillness, the elemental power of Earth, is the master power. 

Science knows now that nothing in the universe is still; everything is constantly moving, and what we call stillness is simply the motion of two or more bodies synchronously with each other.  To achieve the elemental power of Earth and keep stillness, then, is to cease motions peculiar to ourselves and to move synchronously with the Earth, with the Lady.  When we become still without and within (including silent), we shall feel the Earth’s movement, spinning on her axis and traveling round the Sun.  This feeling is subtle but definite.

The Earth is part of the World Tree.  Middle-earth is the trunk, the Underworld is the roots, the Upper world is the foliage of the tree.  The World Tree is a map of consciousness.  As we travel up and down the World Tree, we pass through different dimensions of awareness.  Science examines the universe in one of these dimensions, but there are several, some below us, some above.  Since there is no one way to depict these dimensions or worlds, pagans describe the whole as a great tree, a map of possible journeys. 

Each of us is a miniature replica of the World or local Cosmos, and our spine is our inner tree.  The spine is made of both gross matter and astral or subtle matter.  Hindu yoga describes three channels made of astral matter passing up the spine.  The central channel is the sushumna.  Round the sushumna spiral the ida and pingala.  These cross each other and the sushumna at certain points called chakras, wheels or lotuses (as they variously appear to inner sight).  These chakras are the worlds or dimensions already mentioned.  India is not alone in describing the inner tree thus; many other cultures from different times and places describe it similarly, though they may differ slightly in the number of chakras or worlds ranged along it.  These include the Hopi, [11] the Tibetan, and the Norse; also the Greek, for the caduceus or staff of Hermes replicates the yogic model.

Our home on the World Tree is halfway along it, in the lower trunk, a place called Middle-earth in this Craft tradition.  Our inner consciousness has the fourth chakra, located in the solar plexus near the heart, as its center of gravity, although it ranges a little above and below it in certain experiences.

When the witch cultivates inner and outer stillness, the inner or dream soul awakens and begins to travel along the trunk of the inner tree.  It is called the dream soul because it is associated, in many pagan cultures, with dream or spirit journeys, but it can also travel while awake.  It can go up or down the inner tree, though in witchcraft we are primarily concerned to travel down it, eventually reaching our root souls in the Summerland, a place in the Underworld.  This will require many tentative journeys partway down, and at the conclusion of each, the inner or dream soul reascends to Middle-earth.  So it is just as important to practice ascending as descending the inner tree.

Preparation for the journey of inner stillness is made by cultivating outer stillness.  The witch learns to sit still and refrain from fidgeting.  It is also important to exercise regularly, through yoga or ch’i kung or some other form of non-strenuous exercise.  This should be done before attempting to sit still.  Exercising the muscles and tendons helps them to let go afterward and relax more fully.

Restraint of mental talk cultivates inner stillness.  Thoughts are not blocked, but neither are they followed.  The witch lets them fade out, like a sail observed on the horizon at sea.  Meditation, sitting still, will involve this cultivation of separation from mental talk until a degree of inner quiet is reached.  The Maiden aids the witch in letting go of mental chatter, and at a certain point she cuts us loose from our usual level along the inner trunk.  We feel this as though we were in an elevator which has suddenly slipped its cable a few feet.  There is a feeling of sudden descent into greater silence. 

In this silence there are no words spoken, but there are still whisperings, almost silent, going on.  These are specimens of what has been called “the still, silent voice within.”  You might wonder how a voice can be silent; it is a question of degree, for the whispering is just above the threshold of inner awareness.  At this point, the witch has not descended a chakra but is halfway down to the next one below, the one associated with the belly.

When the next chakra is reached, the momentary peace felt beforehand is replaced by passions and colored obsessions, as it were.  This is the place where we store drives and energy knots which are too volatile to be usually allowed up in the everyday life of Middle-earth.  The experience of the third chakra can be quite disturbing, full of sexual urges, many of them strange and infantile.  We need the help of the Maiden to separate from these denizens in our inner cellar. 

Beneath this third chakra we begin to experience poignance, beauty of a sad character.  This is where we feel what Buddhists call ‘the pity of things.’  The Mother unites the witch with some of these in turn, filling the inner soul with compassion.  If the outer eyes are open during this part of the inner journey, we begin to see the people around us as suffering from various forms of sadness, grief, terror and anxiety.  When the dead in ancient Baltic lands reached this part of the World Tree in their journey back to their root souls, they sent messages to their bereaved through priests and shamans, pleading with them “don’t grieve so much!”

This writer cannot describe deeper levels of the inner journey.  But when the inner soul reascends to Middle-earth, it brings back beauties and talents collected along the way.  The Crone charges these with her uncanny energy, so that they unite with the everyday personality when the traveler returns.  The deeper the descent, the more of this treasure is brought back.  The shallow descents this writer has made have nevertheless enabled him to enrich his life here in Middle-earth with a few jewels delved from the depths.


Æther, the Power to Go

 
The journeys described in the last section, traveling down the inner tree, are already ætheric or astral journeys. [12]  Nothing has been said yet about journeys up the inner tree to the chakras above our usual one in Middle-earth.  The journey to the sky-world, called daušos in ancient Baltic religion, is undertaken by shamans, traveling the whole length of the World Tree.  In our Craft tradition, this journey upward to the Sun is undertaken by the witch after he or she has been transmuted to an elemental being balanced in all four elemental powers, the powers of Air, Fire, Water and Earth.  The transmutation generally takes place in the Summerland, though in the past, when esoteric teaching was more widespread, it could also take place while in the gross material body in Middle-earth.  This was, reputedly, an excruciating experience and may have given rise to church tales of witches suddenly catching fire and burning from within.  So perhaps it is just as well that it occurs very rarely while in this dimension. 

The journey to the Sun is described in the Prasna Upanishad as the journey of no return, and it is certainly true in the sense that the being transformed in the Sun into a body of light is not the same as the one who began the journey. [13]  Apollonius of Tyana was probably the one who brought back this teaching of the Upanishad to Italy, where it was handed down as part of the lore of stregheria or Italian witchcraft. [14]

In all of this we are speculating on the basis of ancient teachings.  All we can say further is that after being transformed in the Sun and given bodies of light, we will be given real work to do for the first time in our lives.  We shall have grown to the stature of demigods and will take on some of the work of World-maintenance, possibly helping with relations with other cosmoi such as those circling the royal stars of the Medes, also called the Watchers: Aldebaran, Regulus, Antares and Fomalhaut.  With the Lady we can only say that our relations will be different, as our relations with our mothers in Middle-earth were different after we grew up and left home.  But here even my tentative lore fails me.


Bibliography


GARDNER, Gerald B., ‘Scire’, High Magic’s Aid, New Bern, NC, Godolphin House,
         1996.  Published originally in 1946.

GRAVES, Robert, The White Goddess, New York, Farrar, Strauss and Giroux,              1993.

GRIMASSI, Raven, Italian Witchcraft; the Old Religion of Southern Europe,
         St. Paul, MN, Llewellyn Publications, 2000.

HARDING, D.G., On Having No Head; Zen and the Re-Discovery of the Obvious,
            London and New York, Arkana, 1987.

MEAD, G.R.S., Apollonius of Tyana, New Hyde Park, NY, University Books, 1966.

NAHM, Milton C., Selections from Early Greek Philosophy, New York, Meredith,
             1964.

NIKHILANANDA, Swami, transl., The Upanishads, in four volumes, New York,
              Ramakrishna-Vivekananda Center, 1973.  The Prašna Upanishad is in
              volume 2.


SERITH, Ceisiwr, Deep Ancestors; Practicing the Religion of the Proto-Indo-
               Europeans, Tucson, AZ, ADF Publishing, 2007.

Site on the Hindu religious symbol of the swastika:
http://www.swastikaphobia.com/indian.html

TRINKUNAS, Jonas, ed., Of Gods and Holidays; the Baltic Heritage, Lithuania,
                Tvermé, 1999.

WATERS, Frank, Book of the Hopi, New York, Penguin Books, 1963.



[1] Nahm, Early Greek Philosophy, p. 117.  See Bibliography.
[2] See article on Posidonius in the Princeton University article, http://www.princeton.edu/~achaney/tmve/wiki100k/docs/Posidonius.html
[3] Mead, G.R.S., Apollonius of Tyana, pp. 84-5.
[4] Gardner, Gerald B., High Magic’s Aid, pp. 29, 51.
[5] Gardner, Gerald B.  See Bibliography.
[6] Andro Man’s confession, quoted in Graves, Robert, The White Goddess, p. 432.
[7] See discussion at http://www.swastikaphobia.com/indian.html.
[8] See Serith, Ceisiwr, Deep Ancestors, pp. 114-120.
[9] See D.G. Harding, On Having No Head.
[10] The attention is extended to the side, not moved there.  We still pay attention to things in front; otherwise we might trip over something or bump into a power pole.
[11] See Waters, Frank, Book of the Hopi, p. 181n.
[12] Ætheric or subtle matter is also called astral because in antiquity it was thought that the stars were composed of it.
[13] Prašna Upanishad 9-10.  See Nikhilananda.
[14] See Grimassi, Raven, Italian Witchcraft, p. 263.