Falling for a prostitute is the butt of many a demeaning joke, but she was totally for real or did a perfect job in presenting herself as such and was extremely likable. My love for her was for the person she was and there was no desire to sample any of the other girls. The fact that she could accommodate a bunch of others didn’t bother me. It was clear that she wouldn’t let herself be exploited by anyone and her ability to be there for the many was admirable and it made her interesting to be with. It made me feel like being with Babalon herself. She truly helped me to stay happy for as long as the affair lasted. 

Not long after our run in at the bottle shop however, the 2019 bush fires ravaged our region as they did all over the country. Knowing that she had a son with asthma and her town had severely bad air quality it was highly unlikely that she would be in the mood to continue our forays into Sex Magick. As for myself, with the fires raging just a few ridges away, it became evident that the recently completed Abbey was so hedged in by dry scrub that it was practically indefendable and spent a desperate few months on the chain saw and hack knife, sweating it out. 

Then it is 2020 and by the time the bush fires die down Corona arrives to bring its eerie glow to the world. Casual sex with strangers has become somewhat of a no-no and we never got to cement our friendship by exchanging our phone numbers. The idea to keep myself happy with a paid courtesan is no longer viable. It looks like that to enjoy the intimacy with a woman again it will have to be in a ‘real’ relationship. 

My existence as a hermit is so extreme though that it includes living without an internet connection which is a bit of an obstacle in relating to the wider world at all. Have managed so far by occasionally checking my email at the public library but when this institution is the first one to close its doors, it is fair to say that although it is Corona that got me to lose my surrogate girlfriend, its silver lining did get me back online.

*

What a thrill to be suddenly so close to the mind of others. Breaking my cyber fast is just about as blissful as experiencing a human touch after the 20 year drought. On Youtube in particular it feels like being in the halls of the most fun university in the world. When typing ‘spirituality’ into the search bar, am presented with a fantastic array of choices, mostly of a secular, scientific nature and many with a psychedelic bend. When making choices, the algorithm brings up more of the same but slightly different ones and soon one is part of a coterie of brilliance. Certain characters stand out with many followers, all connecting with the others, interviewing one another, discussing the meaning of life, life beyond death, reincarnation, magick.  Am pretty stoked when the first Crowley reference comes up. Check it out of course which brings up some more. It turns out that amongst this new generation of hip thinkers he is quite an acceptable figure and as with Leary and Wilson back in the 1980s it is the groovy ones that pay him his due respect. My adventure could well have a place under the cyber sun. Being at the age at which he shed his mortal coil, shedding my own can’t be too far off and when contemplating this event, the main worry is that my quest will never see the light of day and global culture will be missing out on a vital contribution. Had to give it up at the end of the last millennium because there was no solution to it, the sex magick wasn’t working and by now the sands of time have all but covered it over. But the Sex Magick with my Sacred Whore has delivered. The fruit of our labour took shape in a hot little story that goes straight to the heart of things and shows the hero as triumphant. It has also brought me into the present and brings a little spice into the Great Work. The Net is a space where collective intelligence is possible and my newly discovered circle of Youtube stars is enough motivation to make me buckle down, give my old stuff an edit and work in the new.

My ode to Babalon by having a sex magickal dalliance with a prostitute has somehow brought back into the picture my meeting with the Crowleyan sex magicians and when reliving that racy encounter after all those years, it comes with a fair bit of excitement. The moment that the lady of the house invited me and her husband into her boudoir is one of the highlights of my life, his head between her thighs with her eyes in mine is one of my most favourite memories. Being well-known characters in the area, the Nimbin Good Times had reported on his passing a few years ago which is a bit of a change in dynamics. Had always felt completely comfortable with her and the idea of catching up with her and have her read about her role in my life is hugely exhilarating. By adding her to the list of Youtube stars as my potential audience vastly increases my drive to keep going. In fact it totally takes over. She will have to be the first one to read it, be my judge and jury.

*

Being a renowned Tarot reader she is easy to locate. It is only a phone call away to make an appointment. She did read my Moonchild’s Odyssey back in the day that it came out in Magick Magazine which is a good way to introduce myself and ask her for a reading on my latest edition:

“We met a long time ago. You read something I wrote and I’ve done it again. Could you do me a reading on where to go from here?”

“Yes I could. What is your name?”

“If I tell you, you may not want to see me.”

“Oh, you better tell me then.”

Hearing my name elicits a pleasant chuckle:

“Well, that is a long time. No, I’ll be happy to catch up with you.”

She works at a healing centre and am seated in a little waiting room. Quite a moment when she comes in, looking the part of mysterious wise woman, open smile:

“Come through.”

So good to sit down with her, a little table between us, the Tarot deck ready for divination. Plonk the manuscript next to it. It all feels so right, am just as comfortable with her as back then. She brings me up to date with her situation, the passing of her husband:

“I live in town by myself now, with a dog.”

Tell her that our encounter at their place is still one of the most beautiful moments in my life but that the day they so easily dismissed me is one of the worst. She feels a little bad about it, tells me he could be cruel sometimes and apologises on his behalf. Right then there is a message on her phone:

“I’ll have to check this. It’s a big day today. The house you visited us at is being sold and I’m expecting the news of the money being transferred.”

This does strike me as quite a coincidence. Is she to transfer her role of S.W. today as well?

“Wow!”

“Yeah, auspicious, huh?”

Then it’s time for the reading. The question is that since Sex Magick has always been kept secret by its practitioners, is it alright for me to come out with it to this extent.

The first card for the centre is the Sun which is the one that Crowley saw as representing himself. When he was in court and asked whether he called himself the Beast 666 he told the judge that it referred to the Sun and that he could be addressed as ‘Little Sunshine’. The cards continue to make sense, there are some hurdles, there is some help, nothing serious, just some fun, basking in her presence, enjoying her wisdom.

The hour is up. She suggests to take the manuscript home with her and will invite me over to her place for feed back:

“I’ll give you my private number.”

On leaving she opens her arms for a hug which feels so good it is hard to let go off.

*

Her presence lingers, imagining her reading my stuff. The idea that it may turn her on gets me all warmed up. Have a strong sense of cosmic connection. The message on her phone about the sale of her house was definitely auspicious and when having a closer look at her phone number, there right at the centre it says 156, number of Babalon. How not to see her as a potential Scarlet Woman! The vision is of her above me, prancing around in her boudoir outfit, me on my back, hands on myself. My Hadit to her Nuit. 

After a week of this, go out shopping and check for messages. There is none. Another week contemplating the idea that it could be turning her off or that she is uninterested for other reasons. My world falters. Take refuge in cyberia and cling to my Youtube stars.

Am living without mobile reception so when the urge to communicate takes over, drive my van to the closest caravan park near her and settle in before sending her a text and still be around for a response:

‘Are we still in touch, or are you in shock.’

‘Hi there. No, no shock, just consumed with other things and not had time to do it justice,  simply skimmed over at this stage. Over the years I have disciplined myself and done all the grade work through Golden Dawn, however I have studied Tibetan dharma along side this and ultimately my heart is a buddhist heart. I am happy for you and I to connect and maybe discuss these things. Meanwhile I will read your book with open mind and great interest. I hope that all goes well for you. Brightest of blessings.’

There is a heat wave on, it’s incredibly hot. Walk into town to an air-conditioned pub for a cold one before responding:

‘Good to hear you are still interested and your reply is wonderful. It is to be expected that you would be very busy at the moment and will myself practice patience the buddhist way. Have been discussing these things with you in my mind since leaving you with the manuscript and can’t wait doing so with you in the flesh’.

Walk around the completely deserted town having a schooner in each pub that is open, find me some tucker and sleep in the van. In the morning after breakfast in the shopping mall, trying to avoid the possibility of running into her on the way home, drive straight through the CBD but there she is, walking along on the side walk. Decide to just keep going and leave her be but before getting back in the valley there is another text:

‘It has taken a while to reply – have been out and about – home today – so hot. Yes it will be nice to connect – maybe meet for lunch or drink some time. When it is cooler. Stay cool and talk soon.’

It was a bit flirtatious to tell her about my impatience for discussing our different ways in the flesh but this doesn’t sound like it has turned her off. It probably wont hurt to let her know that despite our advancement in years she is still attractive to me:

‘Was in town this morning on the way to the Nimbin market. Trying not to run into you, drove straight through but there you were, about an hour ago, your dog on a leash. We must be connected anyway. Too hot indeed. Let me know when you’re ready. Am about to disappear back into my no-reception zone for the next few days, just so you know. Seeing you out on the high street looking so stylish is actually quite a nice image to take home with me and cherish. So long.’

*

After three weeks with her at the forefront of my mind without hearing a thing, there is a dawning suspicion that my presence in her mind is not as strong as hers is in mine. The end of the year is nigh and at he Summer Solstice, as it is widely reported, there will be a rare conjunction between Saturn and Jupiter. Seeing it as my Saturn to her Jupiter, shoot her a text to check whether our approaching connection has the same cosmic significance for her as it has for me:

‘You probably know that at the solstice there will be a conjunction of saturn and jupiter. Any chance for us to align our own imminent conjunction with theirs?’

How can you possibly refuse such a romantic proposition but my suspicion turns out to be correct:

‘Hi there – an important conjunction indeed. I have had some plans in place for a while and so will be occupied in fulfilling them in meaningful fashion. Thank you for your invitation and I hope you have also a meaningful conjunct. Thanks for thinking of me at such an important time. Bright blessings.’

A little disappointing but she is still nice to me and make sure to keep my cool:

‘Blessings to you too and happy solstice.’

She must have picked up on my disappointment though and comes straight back:

‘Thank you. I have been so occupied with important closures – selling property – sorting through past relationships etc that I’ve had to pace myself – should be more spacious come new year.’

This is fair enough. Sounds like she is making me some space in her life:

‘See you then…’

*

Make it through the silly season with the help of a bottle of good scotch and my gang of Youtube intellectuals. There is a particular cluster that keeps drawing me in. They speak openly about touchy subjects and it turns out that they are indeed a loose group that has made a name for themselves as what a 2018 New York Times article calls the Renegades of the Intellectual Dark Web, a term coined half-jokingly by one of them, Eric Weinstein. Others would be his brother Brett with his wife Heather Heying, Sam Harris, Jordan Peterson, Joe Rogan, Ben Shapiro, Christina Sommers, Camilla Paglia, all from different parts of the political spectrum, described as a collection of iconoclastic thinkers, academic renegades and media personalities who are having a conversation around ideas that are too hot to handle in our new era of That Which Cannot Be Said and can thus be seen as ‘dark’. In an interview with Rebel Wisdom, Eric Weinstein makes an argument for Genius over Excellence. He reckons that in our present culture excellence is given too much prominence over genius. If a person of genius is of a flawed or somewhat unsavoury character it will be very hard to have that genius appreciated and it will often end up falling by the wayside. The reputation of the ‘king of depravity’ comes to mind. No wonder they make me feel at home with my crazy urge to be a taboo breaker. 

They may be rubbing the mainstream the wrong way but what they have in common with each other is resisting the polarisation of the mainstream, being open to one another’s arguments and striving for collective sense making. Back in the 1990s the Matrix idea that there could be ‘The One’ – that the internet was in need of a Jesus or a Crowley – may still have had some validity, but with the information explosion of the new millennium it will have to be a collective.

*

King Alcohol may sometimes lend me a hand when going through a rough patch but it is Queen Mary Jane who helps me to stay happy, healthy and wise. May have a beer here and there but this is only a base for what follows: The highlight of the day by imbibing the herb superb. Nowadays this takes place not more than once a day, since finding out after decades of overuse that it actually only has its desired effect once a day, when it opens that door to a world where everything makes perfect sense. That this still occurs after more than half a century of pretty much daily use is blowing my mind every time. Am usually totally fine in the morning, doing the work that needs to be done around the house and further afield, getting organised in what could be called normal survival mode. But after lunch the desire to go inward asserts itself and when that door to the other hemisphere opens with a bang, it still baffles me that the blissful awareness of life being full of meaning is not with me when being straight in the morning. Have organised my life in a way that both hemispheres can have their time of day.  At my present age, knowing that the damage it does to my respiratory system is probably shortening my life span, it does come with the somewhat melancholy feeling that these insights are so profound that it is worth the risk.

When realising in my mid-forties that giving up the ganja was not going to happen, it did make me give up the tobacco to protect my lungs, in the hope that they would accept the weed as long as it was pure, administered in moderation and for the purpose of inspiration. Took this moderation a step further when reaching my sixties by getting myself a vaporiser. All was good until recently someone gave me some really good hash which doesn’t want to vape and have since been giving in to the occasional smoke. This doesn’t sit well with me so a trip to Nimbin is in order to get a bong with a double cooling chamber to minimise the impact.

At the Hemp Embassy there is an old timer behind the counter who can probably relate to my predicament and ask him which of the bongs he thinks is the least harmful. He looks at me in disgust, is obviously genuinely pissed off:

“There is no bong that is not harmful. You’re crazy to be smoking bongs at your age!”

Try to elaborate on the difference between smoking weed and smoking hashish but he hands me over to a younger dude and walks off in dismay. On the difference between damage from hash or weed the young one leads me through the door into the Hemp Bar where the hard core of Nimbin droogs hangs out and introduces me to a weathered old wizard. My deliberations on how to imbibe our beloved mind expander makes him smile:

“Don’t worry too much about what others say, do what you feel is right. Thought can kill you quicker than smoke.”

Sure enough, but back in my shack the look in the eyes of the old timer is hard to shake. He was just so genuine. He is working there to raise money for the fight against cannabis prohibition but his concern for my health was outweighing this, which gives me such a respect for him that it makes me decide to lay off the smoke for a while. It strikes me that to be inspired to this by someone from the Nimbin Hemp Embassy is so hilariously and poetically paradoxical that it could very well keep me motivated.

To help me with this and simultaneously stave off the impatience for the feedback from my work, it is imperative to sit down and put pen to paper to start this, the concluding chapter. When leaving the manuscript with my assessor she had said:

“Do you trust me with it?”

My trust in her was complete at the time but presently her response is taking so long that there are moments of doubt. Have a dream in which someone informs me that Hilarion had come by. Hilarion is the magickal name of Jean Foster, one of Crowley’s women. He was very much in love with her but he felt that she was not for real, connected as she was with someone in British Intelligence. Is she sharing my manuscript with her contacts in the Golden Dawn perhaps?

*

After another three weeks have gone by, my buddha is getting a little restless. Decide to let her know that my attachment to her judging my work has put my life somewhat on hold. She responds by saying that she has no intention to hold me back, apologises for the delay and promises to write me a detailed message soon. It arrives the very next day and explains a lot about how much has changed. It has been 10 years since she left her husband and she feels that it was his fixation on power that eventually destroyed him:

‘I left him with both joy and deep sadness. When I see you I can explain this more deeply – it could be an important part of your telling – a deeper reality behind the pursuit of power through sex magick. A story of the consequence of overweening lust for self gratification. Obsession. The importance of intention and the ensuing fracturing of lives that cannot be reconstructed. I am in a good place now. I am free of relationship and able to look after myself – to follow my calling. I learnt my lessons well. Sex magick is not something I aspire to – it is something I have left behind a long long time ago. I am free to live my life from my heart centre – to serve humanity – to express love to all. I am fortunate to be able to live my life authentically – to be able to do what I love and be in secure circumstances. To be content – free of yearning. I teach magick – metaphysical studies – esoteric qabala. I have benefitted greatly from the legacies of Crowley – of the Golden Dawn. Dharma. I help those who come to me. So you see I am not who you may perceive me to be. That’s ok. Maybe we will be friends and get to know each other better. I am not interested in a relationship. My freedom was hard won and I am not about to relinquish that. I am content. Of course there are times of restlessness – searching etc however in the main I am good and lead a virtuous life. And life is fluent – nothing set in stone. This is a clumsy attempt to explain myself. The nuances – the twists and turns – are missing from the telling. The subtle whisperings within the space lines – not words but vibrations.’

Am pleasantly impressed with this rather graceful disclosure. It says it all and can’t but set me straight. We may not become lovers but to have access to her friendship and intellect is very precious and is certainly more important than the sex. Can only be grateful for that: 

‘That was a very clear and wonderful reflection on our situation. One can’t expect 20 years to go by without change but the memories of our encounters were so sweet that my excitement about seeing you again couldn’t but have a romantic touch. But seeing you in such a good place can only make me very happy for you, free from relationship and free to live your life from the heart centre. You have evidently grown into a strong and wise woman and it is an honour that after reading my stuff you are still open for friendship. Moreover you put your finger on what made me come to you in the first place: to help me delve deeper into the reality behind the pursuit of power through sex magick. You even tell me it could be an important part of my telling. It could indeed. The shuffle between the lust for self gratification and the service to humanity. It is my good fortune that it is your dharma to help those who come to you. When, oh when will you have the time and space to let me come to you.’

‘Hello there, thank you for your insightful response. I will reply soon when I have some space to write a well considered reply. Meanwhile I hope you are well and happy.’

*

The change of flavour in our relationship gets me to think a lot about the concept of the Scarlet Woman. We know that most of Crowley’s work was done when he was under the spell of a woman and without one he would simply dry up. This sounds very much like the situation of any other artist throughout the history of the world except for the title. Scarlet Woman is just a fancy name for the muse. Without a muse we just dry up. It looks like my presupposed scarlet woman needs to be renamed.

It is clear that at the moment, without her as my muse, my world would fall apart because my narrative would come to a dead end. With a muse there is life, without one there is decay. Eros & Thanatos. Eros is our libido which needs to connect us with another, otherwise Thanatos will destroy us. We all have tendencies towards self destruction but by channeling our libido towards another this tendency is neutralised. Eros is the force that creates higher unities and the prime examples for that process are love and sexuality. For the moment loving her will have to do. Love Under Will. It is imperative to keep our connection going because her response is vital to the story.

Besides creating higher unity with another person, Eros can also direct its desires towards a specific subject and working on the concluding chapter keeps me well stimulated until reaching the present moment. When the impatience for her feedback intermittently returns, it comes with a remedy: To see it as an opportunity to grow in unattachment. In Golden Dawn terms she is presenting me with an Ordeal: Pass it and you’ll be a better person.

*

It is more than a month since her promise of a considered reply. Having attained a state of total acceptance, it feels right to go ahead and contact her again. Drive to Lismore and give her a call. The timing is not too bad because she has time this afternoon and directs me to where she lives:

“Just give me an hour to get ready.”

Turns out that although she has read most of it she still hasn’t read all of it and doesn’t want to say too much about it until she has. It’s hard not to show her my disappointment:

“Not having read it yet is feedback in itself. If it didn’t grab you in a way that made you put other things aside to give this your attention, you can’t think it’s very good.”

She is a bit annoyed with this assumption and lists all the things that occupy her, but although chastising me for my expectations she does assure me:

“It’s not personal and has nothing to do with the work. I want to give it respect and that will take time.”

One thing she makes clear though. It is hard for her to relate to the emphasis on sex magick and although she learned a lot from Crowley and has no doubt that he was a genius, she finds the flaws in his character unsurmountable. She feels very strong about this and for good reason. She has been married to a man who also fully identified with the bastard and has first hand experience what it means to be objectified as a scarlet woman and being mistreated in abominable ways:

“For him it was all about power. I loved him but the lust for power is what destroyed him as well as our relationship. He got stuck in a rut and couldn’t evolve. He wanted orgies every weekend and I got over it. He needed to control me and if I played up he would punish me. When I decided to leave him he didn’t want to let me go. He had plenty of Crowley quotes to justify himself. Do you remember that passage in the Book of the Law that starts with ‘Let the Scarlet Woman beware’?”

That is indeed a terribly harsh part of the book, practically unpalatable in this day and age, even if taken fully metaphorically. The bit about the scarlet woman is unbearable. She has plenty more to say about Crowley’s cruelty:

“Most people who came under his spell came to a sticky end. Some got sick suffering under his discipline, some died. He abandoned people on the mountain, he rorted his friends and disciples to support his life style. He just about destroyed Victor Neuburg and the way he parted with Israel Regardie who served him for years was disgusting. Do you know of anyone who benefitted from their relationship with him?”

She is right. Can’t think of anyone besides the ones who could hold their own ground, of which there weren’t very many and although there is no denying that he brought some colour to my life, has his hold over me really been so beneficial? Am well aware of his cruelties but as with her love for her husband, it hasn’t stopped me from loving him. From the inside as it were, as if we are the same person, experiencing his devotion, his passion, his relentless efforts to improve the human condition, the losing battles with his addictions. She doesn’t know me very well so there is no point in trying to convince her that my own character this time around is so vastly different from his. Which is why he became such an idol to me. One of my main weaknesses is a severe lack of assertiveness, especially towards women. Probably something to do with a superwoman as mother and a perfect gentleman as a father. For me it is always ‘after you’, always willing to do someone else’s will first, so his dictum to ‘Do What Thou Willt’ did become a major goal in my life. Sadly enough, following this dictum has led to living life more or less by myself for the last two decades and still, when in the company of others, it is in my nature to adjust myself to the other. It is hard to see that both our characters are expressions of the same soul which is why a big part of my life has been spent on white-washing him. 

The idea of us coming from the same source originated in the days that the abundance of synchronicities demanded an explanation. It felt a lot like David Bowie’s ‘somebody up there likes me’, and Crowley’s terminology for it as ‘The Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel’ had a very attractive ring to it. It connected us, via the magick of the mediaeval Abramelin the Mage, to the Western Esoteric Tradition, and when being showered with synchronicities it did help to anchor myself to Crowley’s Angel, as Bowie did by being ‘immersed in Crowley’s uniform’. 

But with a husband like hers it is not surprising that that uniform doesn’t impress her very much. For now it is better to let her finish reading the whole thing before going any further. We chit-chat away the rest of our time together, learning a bit more about what we’re up to these days. She very poignantly points out that the sexual phase of our lives is pretty much matched by the one we spend on aging.

*

With old age setting in and the body in decline there is no sign that the role of sex and drugs is diminishing. On the contrary. Nothing like some sexual arousal to stir up the Chi, to spark up a sometimes lacklustre machinery and without the bliss and meaning-making superpower of the herb superb life is starting to look just a tad ordinary. But the part of our discussion that sticks with me is that ‘He wanted orgies every weekend. He got stuck in a rut and couldn’t evolve’. It does hit a nerve. Have always justified my daily ganja bliss-out with the command from the Book of the Law that is easiest to adhere to:

‘A Feast for Every Day’.

Is that being stuck in a rut? Is it stopping me to ‘evolve’? Having just started a ganja fast for health reasons, decide to keep at it for at least a couple of months, just to show myself – and her – that it is possible to evolve. 

After a week or so it gets easier because it pays off: pride in being strong enough to stick to it and using my time more productively, out there in the field catching up with the weeds and also on the work of words. Finishing the manuscript is now what it is all about. The imminent discussion with my judge and jury will be perfect for showing the psychological complexities of the relationship between myself and my predecessor, and the Youtube study of current consciousness researchers and synchronicity connoisseurs will get me more and more in touch with the science of soul migration. 

One of the reasons for having gone back to university at the start of the new millennium and giving up on the idea that my magikcal mystery tour was something that could bring new ways of knowing to the world was that it was just too far out from the ruling paradigm and it had held me back for fear of being seen as flakey, if not mad. There had been some support from fringe thinkers like Robert Anton Wilson who with help from quantum physics had managed to explain our ‘miracles’ in a scientific way but it wasn’t strong enough to dismantle the domination of our ‘common sense’ of causality in the space-time continuum. Since being back on the Internet though, my much appreciated algorithm has been leading me from the free speech champions of the IDW – by way of Rebel Wisdom – to what is my main interest which is consciousness research and it has me riveted. Apparently science is getting more and more convinced that the space-time continuum is not all there is to it. It has been known for some time that when bringing Einstein’s Relativity Theory together with Quantum Field Theory there is something that ain’t quite right and it is becoming more and more clear that our Space Time can’t be fundamental. There must be something else that gives rise to it and a bunch of prominent physicists are searching frantically for a new model. This is very encouraging. It sounds like my 5th dimension where synchronicity rules is at the brink of getting a solid scientific footing.

There are voices that say that it could be Consciousness that is fundamental, proposing a totality of ‘conscious agents’ – human, animal, plants perhaps – which could give rise to our shared reality, with each one of us partaking in it from our own unique perspective. Each individual mind is slightly different but is part of the universal mind, which is what gives rise to reality as we know it, including the space-time continuum and the distance to the stars.

Our collective consciousness as a river, with our individual consciousness as a little whirl pool. In terms of reincarnation it will be a little whirlpool for a while but eventually it will disperse. However its energies will flow on as ripples and further downstream other little whirlpools will form and it may well be that a new whirlpool could contain some of the ripples from the one from upstream.

This view is not new to the Eastern ‘pre-scientific’ mindset of those who look at the world in a non-dual way in which there is no duality between subject and object. All we can be sure of is our consciousness of ‘I Am’:

“I am aware and I am aware of being aware.”

Everything that pops up in that frame is a construct of the mind, a mind that has developed over the millennia with the purpose – not to know ‘the truth’ but according to the theory of evolution – to be able to survive long enough to reproduce.

*

At long last she has finished reading my life’s work and we arrange to meet for lunch to talk about it. Pick her up at her studio, we get some take away, walk over to her place and settle in. She is even more adamant about Crowley’s unsavoury character, his narcissistic egotism and also the Thelemites in general she doesn’t see as contributing anything to the well-being of the human condition:

“They’re all in it to further their own interest and trample on the little people.”

She adds some more anecdotes about the cruelties of her husband that are truly beyond the pale. Towards the end of his life she tried to care for him but it wasn’t easy:

“He died surrounded by books on Hitler and the Nazies.”

When their daughter was in trouble as a teenager he totally dismissed her, didn’t want to have anything to do with her. Asks me about my daughter. She was annoyed that she was mentioned when she was born but was never mentioned again. That is a good point. Have always tried to keep her apart from my interest in magick. Magick is risky business and doesn’t go well with looking after a child which is all about keeping it safe. 

She reckons Crowley never really cared about his children which is not altogether true and have to come to his defence:

“What about in his old age when he took on his son Ataturk, admonishing him to be polite to others and how important it was to keep a good reputation!”

It is difficult to know what he was really like, it is totally dependent on who is doing the reporting, not to mention the fact that even he was a product of his time. It is telling how she pronounces his name as in ‘foully’ whereas he insisted it should be as in ‘holy’.

For her as a Boddhisatva, serving humanity is paramount and kindness is super important:

“He saw kindness as weakness, he had nothing to give.”

“But wasn’t his whole life actually dedicated to liberating people?”

Remind her of the dedication to ‘The Book of Wisdom or Folly’ which so dramatically changed my life and has spurred me on ever since:

“To my son 777, so he can free mankind.”

She has to give it this: “That is a very beautiful book.”

My tendency to overlook his nasty traits is because of my appreciation for the massive amount of knowledge he gained and worked so hard on sharing with the rest of us. He may have been the last knowledge holder who knew just about everything there was to know at the time, having full grasp on the likes of Freud and Einstein as well as the capacity to translate Lao Tse. How can one possibly get around him. One thing we do agree on is his brilliance.

“Don’t you think it would be a good thing if my writing could get people to read him?”

“There would be quite a few though who once they get to know him will think that you also must be an evil prick.”

Now that she has read the lot she would have seen the stark differences between us, in particular our attitude towards women:

“How do you compare his alleged maltreatment of women with my obvious subservience?”

“That subservience actually compromises you in your story. Are you overdoing it perhaps to distinguish yourself from him? As a man you are expected to be more decisive. Don’t let him steal your power.”

This really touches me. She is definitely on to something and feel very grateful for sharing that with me. This by itself is worth the wait for her feedback. 

Knowing that as a Buddhist she believes in reincarnation, it is totally possible to ask her the crucial question:

“Do you think he could have become me, could his soul and mine be one and the same?”

The actual truth of it is not all that important to her:

“You’d have a lot of bad karma to deal with.”

Have actually spent a big part of my life doing just that, seeing the difficulty of doing my will in the company of others as the karma from someone who greeted everyone with the words ‘To do what thou willt shall be the whole of the law’. Have always seen my lack of assertiveness as a direct result of that pomposity. At the other end of the karmic scale it must have been his discipline and diligence as brother Perdurabo that provided the abundance of synchronicities in my life. Also wonder whether his heroin addiction has something to do with my weakness for the motherherb although he must have burnt quite a bit off himself in his own life when a few months before his death his doctor stopped prescribing him the huge dose he was so desperately dependent on:

“Imagine going cold turkey from that in your seventies. He must have been deeper in hell than the devil himself.”

It seems to soften her somewhat. She once had a dream that she was with him. She was on a bed and he was standing nearby being a real arsehole:

“I think I was one of his prostitutes.”

Bring up my dream of his Hilarion:

“I had no conscious idea of what her precise role was in his life and had to look her up in the books. Apparently she was very beautiful, a poet and a journalist. Do you think you could have been her?”

She looks thoughtful, with a kind of smile, is not altogether put off:

“I love it when things like that come through.”

Wink at her challengingly, question on my brow, egging her on:

“He was very much in love with her but she dumped him, broke his heart.”

Is pretty casual about it:

“It’s only a previous incarnation, who cares.”

She changes tack beautifully:

“Maybe you just tapped into his consciousness.”

This is exactly along the lines of my thinking these days, seeing myself as a little whirlpool in the river of consciousness and it is great to be conversing with someone who is so open for the whole gamut of possibilities. It is done. Our lunch is over and she needs to get back to work. Just check with her whether she is alright with her role in my play, which thankfully she is.

*

So Eros has done its thing even without the sex. My belief in her has delivered. It is us catching up which has written the last chapter and has brought me closer to the crucial decision whether to go publick or not. To be or not to be. Eros or Thanatos.

To bring your ‘truth’ to a public is a tricky affair. Even for the giants of the Intellectual Dark Web who are so open to contrary views, it is terribly easy to end up in a struggle. In 2019 Jordan Peterson and Sam Harris came together in large halls in front of huge audiences on different continents to debate the merits of Atheism versus those of Religious Belief. There is obviously a great hunger for this sort of thing and the crowds were clearly appreciative of both of them. Still it was plain to see that both had the desire to be right and were invested in winning the argument which caused them to talk past each other. This was picked up by David Fuller from Rebel Wisdom who invited the great Ken Wilbur on the platform to shine a light on this conundrum. Wilber is the father of ‘Integral Theory’ which is a view on the world where everything is ‘partly right’, everything has its place under the sun and it is a matter of how to fit it all together. 

One of the tools to do this with is his ‘Quadrant’, a 4-pronged lens through which to look at any situation. A cross of two opposites – Individual vs Collective and Interior vs Exterior – creating 4 sections with which to approach our truths: Individual Interior (One’s own thoughts, beliefs and values, ‘I’), Individual Exterior (Behaviours & skills one has learned and exhibits, ‘It’), Collective Interior (Culture, including family and relationships, ‘We’) and Collective Exterior (communication systems, social services, etc. ‘They’). Each one is equally valid but each has its own rules for gathering knowledge, the truths of which are only valid for the section that it is focussed on. Harris was focussed on ‘It’, on an objective scientific definition of truth while Peterson was more interested in a cultural definition, truth as culture transmitted through myth and story. For ‘Integral’ both are right but incomplete.

It is interesting to note that several members of the IDW have since distanced themselves from others, if not entered into feuds, but Ken Wilbur appears to be someone who is universally loved and admired. He is widely seen as the Einstein of Consciousness Studies and although he is excited about the fact that Integral is here to help save humanity from self-destruction, there is not a hint of self-importance about him. With the loving glint in his eye and the naughty curl around his smile, he feels totally acceptable.

Have been blissfully unaware of Captain Wilbur until getting back on the Net and it feels just like discovering Robert Anton Wilson in the 1980’s, nine years after him writing his ‘Cosmic Trigger’, both bringing me comfort by giving me belated answers to my most pressing questions. When applying his 4-pronged approach to my Crowley entanglement it skillfully undoes the puzzling knots and is amazingly liberating. It all depends on how you look at things. Nothing new of course but it is put on a firm 4 fold foundation:

On the Individual Interior side of things one is totally alone, no two views on the world are exactly alike. No one can experience the level of my belief in me being a continuation of Crowley consciousness. Have been arguing this with myself for almost half a century now and have not been able to completely dismiss this idea. It is on the Individual Exterior side that this idea can be debated with others, and its level of truth will depend on the skill with which it is crafted into something communicable. Communicating this with those who are also under the Crowley spell would take place on the Collective Interior, which could give me friendly feedback. But knowledge production is more and more a global affair. Being Crowley’s Moonchild is not about it being ‘true’ or not. In the early days it may have been. A young ego, peaking testosterone, the pressure of bringing a message to the world, but my own life unfolded along with it and has its own merit. On the Collective Exterior it’s like being somewhat of a canary in the coal mine, here to experience the awareness of a previous existence and to find out the effects of discovering in our new incarnation who we were in a previous one. 

It is not without its hassles. My life is proof of that. If humankind is to leap into new spaces of consciousness we need our cosmonauts. Crowley with his antics in creating a Magickal Child would be a prime candidate for this mission. So here we are! My story as the process of integrating the Crowley current into my own life.

As if Ken Wilber hasn’t given me enough already, there is also a Youtube clip in which the Einstein of Consciousness Studies answers a question about reincarnation:

“This is one of the very, very difficult topics. The Daila Lama tells us he can’t remember his past lives but Shirly McLane can, so we see the problem right there.”

The transmigration of the finite self is one of the very few things he is agnostic on. He mentions one of the Buddhist traditions that believes that there are only two things that are carried over from life to life. One is the repository of your virtue, the other one the repository of your wisdom:

“I believe that it might be possible. It’s time to get serious about this. In this day and age there is no reason to not be doing this. So far it has the baggage of magic and mystical. This is not bad but modernity brought the demand for evidence, and postmodernism brought the insight that it is context specific, so let’s do it! Does it occur? Leave us a note, we are going to be waiting.”

Time to come back out into the cybersphere and join the conversation.

***