Magic 101 – The Novice: Under Attack

Lady of the Lake, Samuel Adelstein (c. 1920)

Lady of the Lake, Samuel Adelstein (c. 1920)


I receive a lot of questions on social media posts and many have to do with the querent feeling that he or she is being ‘cursed’ or attacked. Most typically, the commenter is new to the Way, inexperienced and (as Jan Fries mentions below), a bit ‘paranoid’.

I am here to hopefully ease a few worries for the novices among us.

Do spiritual and/or magical attacks really occur?

Yes, they do, but true attacks are rare and in most instances, what people typically encounter are really just ‘weak’ interferences.

I shall try to answer this query in two parts.

Part One:

Sometimes, another Worker or a Spirit may decide to have a bit of ‘fun’ with a newbie, however, it has been my experience that most interferences of this nature are a type of ‘bullying’; immature and non-focused.

It is a slip-shod attempt at weak manipulation; a trick, a time-waster and just for ‘show’.

True manipulation of the Web takes stamina, strength and focus. Any real Worker knows this.

It isn’t a bunch of mumbo-jumbo spewed out on whim with a few herbs thrown in for good measure.

There is preparation, alignment, transference and intense myopic focus. It is a potent direction of Will.

In a word, it is Work.

If another Practitioner is so bored and lacking purpose that he/she desires to try to intimidate or ‘scare’ a newcomer to the Path, that usually indicates a very weak, ignorant and childish mindset and certainly, not one of much Power or effectiveness. It shows an inability to control emotion and reflects the behaviour of a toddler.

The same holds true for perceived ‘Spirit’ attacks. Spirits of a lower vibration may play ‘games’; a bit of ‘hide and seek’ if you will. These types of Spirits are very childlike; impetuous, mischievous and self-centered.

The best recourse for the beginner is to have a Spirit Guardian in place (for me, my Daemon Familiar). For others, it may be a Deity, or an Ancestor or a Spirit Animal.

Setting up this Spirit Guardian is simple; you petition your Ancestors for aid, you seek to build a relationship with a Deity or Daemon to Whom you feel a strong attraction or pull, you meditate on the Void and ask for a sign or appearance of your Spirit Animal or Guide.

It is not complicated.

Spirit Guardians are nothing more than aethyric ‘best-friends’. They have your back.

For those who do not believe in Spirits, Gods or the Others (I’ve never understood atheistic Witchery, but some do claim that Path), one would erect a psychic ‘shield’ or wear protective amulets or talismans. You can create your own thrall or servitor to ‘stand guard’ over you. You use the Powers of the Earth and the aethyr for protection.

Magic, Spirits, Deity, Ancestors, Daemons, Human Practitioners: All is Energy. That’s it.

When you break everything down to the common denominator, ALL IS ENERGY.

It’s simple really.

We may categorize, label and shove Energy into drawers of our making, but every single thing you see, hear, touch, perceive (and everything you can’t see, hear, touch, perceive) is nothing more than Energy, in varying degrees, intensity, strengths and purposes.

It is not evil, malevolent, kind, compassionate or in any other way does It ‘care’ for your comfort or your torment.

It just Exists.

When you look in the mirror, you see a form of Energy. Your dog is a form of Energy. The carrots you had for dinner are forms of Energy. Your beloved Aunt Alice that passed away two years ago is a form of Energy.

The entire Universe is on a cycle of manifestation, feeding, dissipation and re-manifestation.

Once you start to view the World as Energetic Impulses, the ‘bogeyman’ loses his grip and you start to realize how much we ‘feed’ into the Energies around us (including those we conjure up ourselves).

By our thoughts and intents, we sustain these Energies. We become Food.

Deny most any unwelcome Energy that ‘food’ of attention and fear and It will go elsewhere.

In other words, the buffet is closed.


Part Two:

I don’t mean to sound harsh but many newcomers to the Path start to believe that they are really IMPORTANT and that all the Gods, Spirits, Daemons, Ghosts, Poltergeists, Trolls, Fairies, Elementals, Familiars, and all other human Workers in the magical spheres are taking notice of them.

The truth is we are just not that significant.

Spirits, like humans, have other things to do. They are busy.

You are not the center of Their universe. The Spirits were here long before you arrived and They will be here long after you are gone.


They have more important things to do than to plague you.

I leave you with some timely advice from Jan Fries’ book, Seidways. I think this excerpt is appropriate:

“A lot of beginners in magic feel overwhelmed, if not afraid, of the great unknown and paranoia is a natural reaction.

For some curious reason, magical novices often feel that they are ‘under attack’ by some evil coven, black sorcerer or nasty demon, while more advanced magicians are usually too busy doing their will to bother about all the fighting and defending.

I’ve known people who were ‘under attack’ every other week, which goes to show just how ‘important’ they were.

The better sort of magicians are aware that there are more important things than dog-eat-dog politics; they do their will and the world takes care of itself.

How about asking your guardian spirits to take care of all the fighting and defending so that you can concentrate on more rewarding activities?”


Quote: Seidways; Shaking, Swaying and Serpent Mysteries, Jan Fries; Mandrake of Oxford (1996)


Image: Lady of the Lake, Samuel Adelstein (c. 1920)

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The Pythia – Serpent Woman of the Gods

Priestess of Delphi, John Collier

Priestess of Delphi, John Collier (1891)


The voice of Divine madness is one most cherished, most sought and also most feared.

In that altered state of consciousness where seeming insanity meets the Divine and thoughts of the Gods are manifest, in this secret place abides Wisdom, Sacrifice and great Power.

The perceived silence of the Powers and the incomprehensible majesty of Nature are united and finally given Voice. The Oracle comprehends all and finally speaks:


“I count the grains of sand on the beach and measure the sea

I understand the speech of the mute and hear the voiceless”.


- Delphic Oracle {Herodotus, I, 47}


The Pythia of Delphi, an Oracle of the Gods, was a woman in whom Divine madness was welcomed.

The scholar Martin Litchfield West writes that the Pythia shows many traits of ancient shamanistic practices, likely inherited or influenced from central Asia, although there is no evidence of any central Asian association at this time:


“The Pythia resembles a Shamaness at least to the extent that she communicates with her [deity] while in a state of trance, and conveys as much to those present by uttering unintelligible words. [cf. Spirit Language, Mircea Eliade].

It is particularly striking that she sits on a cauldron supported by a tripod, reiterating the triad of the great goddess. This eccentric perch can hardly be explained except as a symbolic boiling, and, as such, it looks very much like a reminiscence of the initiatory boiling of the shaman translated from hallucinatory experience into concrete visual terms.

It was in this same cauldron, probably, that the Titans boiled Dionysus in the version of the story known to Callimachus and Euphorion, and his remains were interred close by”.


The name ‘Pythia’ is derived from ‘Pytho’, which in Greek myth was the original name of Delphi.

The Greeks derived this name from the verb, ‘pythein’ (“to rot”), which refers to the decomposition of the body of the monstrous Python (She-Dragon) after She was slain by Apollo.

Through this decomposition, gases were emitted from the ‘body’ of the slain Serpent. It was this vapour that the Pythia inhaled, taking in the essence of the Wise Serpent.

The Priestess would sit in a tripod chair, above a chasm in the Earth. As the hot gases rose, the Oracle would breathe in deeply and hold the fumes within.

Slowly entering a deep trance, the Oracle would chant and sing prophesies, guidance and counsel to her querents.

From her dark, underground chamber, her voice would echo, in songs and utterances sometimes unintelligible.

Plutarch, a priest at the Delphic Temple, recorded that as the Spirits breathed into the Pythia, she would give off a ‘sweet fragrance’, the breath and lust of the Gods.

It was a great honour to be chosen as an Oracle.

Typically, the Pythias were chosen from a guild of Temple priestesses. Even if married with maternal concerns, the priestess would leave all familial responsibilities behind. Her earthly family no longer took precedence.

A woman would leave her family home and would not return.

Plutarch records that the life span of an Oracle was shortened due to the exhaustive nature of ‘housing the Gods’.

After each prophetic session, the Pythia would be feverish, flushed and weak. Due to the strain and untimely deaths of many of the Oracles, it became necessary to alternate them.

Typically, there were three Oracles at any one time, with two alternating as Prophetess and one on reserve, in case of their deaths.

They were willing to sacrifice their own lives in order to be of use to the Gods and to their people. They were the messiahs of their age.

I yearn to be like these Serpent Women, an Oracle; used of the Gods, Chosen, a Sacrifice to Serpentine Wisdom.

I willingly offer my life and service to the Old Powers and desire (in whatever way I can) to resurrect that ancient knowledge that surpasses all understanding; to honour the Secrets and the Gods that existed before any modern religion was ever conceived and before any new god usurped it.

In order to speak like a God, one must become like a God. My mortal body, my ego, must be disciplined and brought under control. There is no room for self-doubt or humanistic limitations.

I want to become a Pythia; a mouthpiece for Deity. I wish to breathe in those Serpentine fumes; sway and chant, feverish and when fallen under grace, deliver the edicts of the Old Ones, even if few care to hear.

I do not believe the Gods have gone ‘silent’ or are ‘hushed’ as some believe. I think They wait for those who are truly desperate and ready to receive Their call.

The Old Ones beckon. Who will answer?

I stand ready. I am here. Let me become a Mouthpiece.

Let me breathe in the essence of the She-Dragon.

Let me become a Serpent Woman of the Gods.




The Orphic Poems, Martin Litchfield West, Oxford University Press Academic Monograph Reprints; Oxford University Press (1984)

The Homeric Hymns – Homeric Hymn to Apollo, Michael Crudden, Translator; Oxford World’s Classics; Oxford University Press (2009)

On the Decline of the Oracles (De Defectu Oraculorum) and On the Oracles of Pythia (De Pythiae Oraculis) in Moralia, Plutarch; Volume 5, Loeb Library, Harvard University Press

The Pythias (excerpt) from Secret History of the Witches, Max Dashu © (2009)



Image: Priestess of Delphi, John Collier (1891)


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My Declaration of Independence


Temptation, Wilfrid Gabriel de Glehn (1870−1951)

Temptation, Wilfrid Gabriel de Glehn (1870−1951)

It’s Independence Day here in America. The nation celebrates the adoption of the Declaration of Independence and our freedom from Great Britain.

It’s a noisy and busy time in the States:  parades, barbecues, firework displays, picnics, political speeches, county fairs and baseball games. It’s a hot and sticky day full of food, family, friends and fun.

During the midst of all this celebrating and jovial interaction, I wonder if we are as truly free as we say we are; ‘land of the free and home of the brave’.

I must admit, I am not so brave, nor do I always feel ‘free’.

I keep my identity private for many reasons but primarily, it is one of personal safety. Were my co-workers or neighbours to know what I truly am and what life-Path I have chosen, I would be tormented. And not just me, but those around me.

On social media platforms, I have received death threats and promises of harm to be done to me and my family. While I do brush such vitriolic, infantile threats aside and rarely take them seriously, I recognize the inherent hatred for my kind and my beliefs that burns deep in so many.

These are scarred and troubled individuals. Their lives do not bear the fruit of their convictions.

While our dedicated service men and women shed their blood on foreign shores to keep us safe from the tyranny of evil, there doesn’t seem to be much that can be done for the evil that abides within the boundaries of this nation and within many hearts of those who claim to honour a god of forgiveness and acceptance.

It is a dichotomy which defies any unification. Try as I might, I cannot meld the two.

I guess Freedom of Religion only applies when that religion is one of the majority.


What do we need to be truly free? What is the prerequisite to freedom?

For me, it is one word: Knowledge.

Knowledge will set us Free.

As the Serpent knew back in the Garden, knowledge is the key to our birthright; the Tree of Knowledge from which we were denied to eat.

“You will not certainly die,” the serpent said to the woman. For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”

That is our Key. Their own book gives it away.

That is our Freedom – Knowledge.

In One Bite, we release the boundaries of any nation. We can dispel any threat.

We Become the Adversary; Independent, truly Seeing and Thinking Free.

Yes, I will eat. Give me more. I devour. I consume. I will gorge myself on this forbidden fruit and I will at last, See. I will, at last, be Free.

It is my hope that on this day, you truly feel Independent. It is my hope that you recognize the uniqueness of You, and that you walk your Path with all diligence and perseverance, no matter what threats may assail you.

Against the tyranny of the herd, we stand. Against the tide of mediocrity, we swim.

And in the end, who will be triumphant and truly Independent?

It will be we of the Black Flame; we, the Adversary – the Offspring of Isolate Intelligence.

My name is Elena and this is my Declaration of Independence.



Reference: Genesis 3: 4-5, NIV

Holy Bible, New International Version® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.


Image: Temptation, Wilfrid Gabriel de Glehn (1870−1951)

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Living Fully – Practicing the Art of Living in the Now

Frederic Boissonnas (1902)

Frederic Boissonnas (1902)



“Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. 

Try as much as possible to be wholly alive with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell. And when you get angry, get good and angry. 

Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.” – William Saroyan


We forget to live fully; to grasp every moment by the throat, digging in with our fingernails and ripping out every second of truly Being; of Experiencing; of Becoming.

We coast through our days and nights, staring out the window of our souls and watching our existence fly by in bits of shadow and light that make no sense.

One moment bleeds into another and yet another until Life becomes a muddy-coloured mass on our palette; no distinction, no aberration; just shallow, pointless breath.

Living fully, like any art, takes practice. It is something we must learn.


Slow Down.


Pay attention.


Look at the details.


Shut up and listen.


Learn to be alone and love it.


Silence your ego and the constant craving of attention and drama.


Stop multi-tasking every second of every day.


Dedicate a few hours once a week to concentrating on just ONE thing:

Read a book, watch a movie, listen to music, write, sit outside and watch the clouds, take a long walk, learn a new hobby, cook, start a garden, build a birdhouse.

Just do ONE thing, ONE thing at a time, for 3–4 hours. Give the activity all your attention.

Drown yourself in this ONE activity; lose yourself in it and lose track of time. Devour every second of it. Notice it. Feel it. Breathe and taste it. It’s called ‘total immersion’.

Most can’t pull it off. It’s a learned trait.

It’s meditation in action; it’s focus on a solitary activity and we are not accustomed to such behaviour.

We get nervous, agitated, frustrated, bored – we feel we are not ‘accomplishing’ or ‘meeting our goals’ or we are not in the cyber-space spotlight for a millisecond and our egos feel the slight.

How can we ever learn to gaze into the Deep Abyss, to communicate with our Gods, to perform efficient Workings and Ritual if we can’t be still, if we can’t shut up, if we can’t focus, if we can’t shut down the clatter and clang of mental dross?

Magic is nothing more than a strongly focused Will determined to achieve a desired end.

Learn to focus on a goal. Learn to do one thing and do it well. Then, move on to the next.

Many can be a ‘jack-of-all trades’.

I choose to be a Master of One.



Image: Frederic Boissonnas (1902)





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The Cosmic Web and the Invalidity of Divine Retribution

Weeping Women, Georges Minne (1886-1941)

Weeping Women, Georges Minne (1886-1941)

For the theists and deists among us, there are many names and faces for the Intelligence that guides our Universe. Some call it The ALL, the Great Mind; some call it the Dao, many call it the All-Father, some the Goddess or the God.

In my tradition, it is called The Web.

For me, this cosmology fits perfectly within not only my mundane worldview, but also with the construct of the Spirit world as I was taught; the Daemonic, the Gods and the other known and unknown Spirits that share our Universe.

Its name implies Its complexity. The Web is a universal Force Field of Thought, Intelligence and Self-Awareness.

It has no gender. It is pure Mind, continually manifesting, creating and expressing Itself.

It does not seek worship. It does not seek revenge.

It does not crave attention, for It finds total joy and contentment within Itself.

We, the created, serve as mini-manifestations of this Great Mind; each of us, a Strand on the Web; an Emanation of Divine Thought.

The Great Mind enjoys viewing Itself in all Its many forms.  It creates and keeps creating forever in fulfillment of Its purpose; replication of the totality of Mind, the Purity of Existence and the Peaceful Exultation of Itself.

It neither requires nor requests outside acknowledgment.

Stone, stream, tree, bird, human, Spirit, Deity, flower, sun, star, blood, bone and ash; each thing, no matter how small, no matter how minute or seemingly unimportant, is a Strand on the Web.

As beings on this glittering cosmic Tapestry, we are each responsible for our own Strand. We are responsible for the movements we make upon it and the vibrations that our actions may make upon the Strands of others.

This is a conscious activity. This is being aware that your decisions and actions have consequences.  However, these consequences are NOT punishment. They are not karma as defined in the milky neo-pagan sense nor are they castigations of a vengeful, narcissistic god in the monotheistic sense. They are not retribution for your wrongdoings or a pre-destined boomerang in the ass for your carelessness.

There is no divine retribution for evil. There isn’t some deity, sitting in the clouds, waiting to hit you with thunderbolts and torment you for all eternity in a lake of fire. That philosophy is a cowardly lie, meant to castrate the thoughtful and the independent of Will.

How much more compliant and receptive to illogical spiritual doctrine does one become when one fears fire and eternal punishment?

Individual gnosis, spiritual ascension and the solitary pursuit of Wisdom is apprehensively shoved aside while the majority of the yielding masses swallow the soul-stealing venom of the patriarchy and give up their individual power to the would-be ‘divinely appointed’ Kings and Gatekeepers of both earth and spirit.

In truth, the resulting consequences of the actions of each of us are nothing more than Strand vibrations. These vibrations are energetic ripples; like a pebble thrown into a pond, they morph out of the center, influencing and permeating the surrounding environment.

If you touch one corner of a spider’s web, the whole Web vibrates, some areas more than others.  These movements on the Cosmic Web are called LIFE.  This is not purely semantics. It is a Cosmology and one that can help or hinder our species, our Planet and our communal and individual spiritual advancement.

In a nutshell – Life Happens.

‘Bad’ things happen to good people.  ‘Good’ things happen to bad people.  In accordance with the Hermetic Principles of Rhythm and Polarity, the Pendulum continuously swings back and forth.

We are, every one of us, regardless of motive or intent, swinging on that Pendulum.

Some days, we are in valleys. Other days, we are on mountaintops.

The valleys are not punishment. They are Life.

The mountaintops are not reward. They are Life.

With that in mind,  instead of monitoring our thoughts and actions out of fear, we should monitor our thoughts and actions out of the conscious awareness that we are not alone on the Web and that everything we do, everything we say, every bit of energy that we emanate and upon which we concentrate, influences and ‘trembles’ the Web.

This simple philosophy does away with forced, mandated morality. It places the welfare of the Universe squarely in my own hands.

I do not give away my responsibility to some egotistical, homicidal deity who must be worshipped and honoured or feels slighted and in a jealous rage, like a spurned lover, plagues me with fire and pitchforks.

I do what I can to keep my part of the Web whole. It is in my own self-interest to expand my consciousness, to become aware of other Living Beings and to treat All with respect.

I do not become a doormat, I do not acquiesce my intelligence or free will. I do not shudder in trepidation at what my eternity may hold.

By serving my own best interests in a wise and thoughtful manner, the interests of my fellow humans, the Spirits and other created Beings are equally served.

The Web cosmology also easily incorporates the shamanic philosophy of animism. If everything emanates from the Divine Mind, if everything is a Strand, a tiny tentacle reaching forth from the Body of the All, then everything that exists has a portion of the Divine Originator within.

Such is the system of panentheism¹ (brief definition given below).

Which world view or cosmology would you personally prefer? Which makes more sense? One where your actions are borne out of impending doom of judgment and annihilation or one where your choices are made carefully in accordance with Self-gnosis, spiritual ascension and mastery of Self?

I chose the latter. I chose Freedom, Ascension, Wisdom and the triumphant Joy of being an integral, ever-growing, ever-learning, ever-ascending Emanation of the All.
I am not a flawed Creation to be punished, but a Blyssful One.

So may it eternally Be.




Sources: ¹

“Panentheism” is a constructed word composed of the English equivalents of the Greek terms “pan”, meaning all, “en”, meaning in, and “theism”, meaning God. Panentheism considers God and the world to be inter-related with the world being in God and God being in the world.

It offers an increasingly popular alternative to both traditional theism and pantheism. Panentheism seeks to avoid either isolating God from the world as traditional theism often does or identifying God with the world as pantheism does.

Traditional theistic systems emphasize the difference between God and the world while panentheism stresses God’s active presence in the world.

Pantheism emphasizes God’s presence in the world but panentheism maintains the identity and significance of the non-divine.

While panentheism generally emphasizes God’s presence in the world without losing the distinct identity of either God or the world, specific forms of panenethism, drawing from a different sources, explain the nature of the relationship of God to the world in a variety of ways and come to different conclusions about the significance of the world for the identity of God”.


Image: Weeping Women, Georges Minne (1886-1941)

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Living the Legacy – the Folk-Magic Heirloom

M.M. Moore - private collection of the author

M.M. Moore – private collection of the author

You are the Family Heirloom, Grandmother.

Folk-magic Legacy encased in tiny bones.

Bird-like you were; frail on the outside, yet Iron and Lava on the inside.

Depression-Era midwife and wise Woman

You walked the Path of the Way with quiet intent and strength of will.

You didn’t sell your magic, for you said it was a gift; a sacred gift which all have, but many do not recognize.

“All is Spirit”, you said. “Every tiny worm, every blowing leaf, every shimmering blade of grass, everything under the burning Sun is Spirit. People get into trouble when they forget this. They get sick, they get mean, and they get blue. Nothing but Spirit can heal Spirit.”

You rarely spoke but when you did, I was told it was soft, like a feather, with the tiny twang of an Ozark accent lilting on the edges.

You wouldn’t cut your hair. “Our hair holds our Spirit Power,” you said. By the time you died, it dragged the Earth, like a veil, quietly erasing your gentle footprints.

Mama kept a lock. I don’t know where it went.

You painted in oils and Papa made the frames for your art. Mountain streams from your childhood home were your favourite subjects. You painted many of them.

Mama had one, your last one, before you died. I don’t know where it went.

All seven of your children believed like you. They passed it on, your Legacy. All of us, their children, your grandchildren, were taught It.

When I was young, I felt strong with It; that Ancestral Tie, the Family Witch-blood that crackles and hisses and burns the veins, but then somehow, through the veil of forgetfulness and in the midst of a troubled home, I lost It.

I lost It.

I don’t know where It went.

Where did It all go? I’ve been seeking It, in my dreams, asking for help. All these years, trying to find It once more.

I discovered your picture in a dusty photo album at the back of the hall closet. I thought I had another one, a close-up portrait of your lined, yet pretty face.

I don’t know where it went.

I have thought of you every day and I dream of you, gliding forth from the mist, smelling of fresh baked biscuits, smoldering mesquite and free-roaming gardenias, hair dragging the ground, always in your paisley cotton dress.

Mama made one just like it, to show me. I don’t know where it went.

I am trying to hold on to your Legacy. I am trying to make you proud. It’s getting dark here. I feel lost and purposeless and my Spirit is nowhere to be found.

I’ve lost so much. I have lost my Heart. I don’t know where it went.

“The crux of the Mysteries will be found in the Heirloom” my most recent dream said; a metallic voice with no body, echoing through my tormented nights. “Find It in the Heirloom. Find It.”

So, that is it. That’s been it all along? How could I have forgotten?

I didn’t lose anything but myself. Just me. I was the thing that couldn’t be found.

The Legacy was there all the time, in You. I just left It. I turned away. I forgot.

I left my folk-magic roots and the Witchery of my Ancestors. In the midst of mundane life, I forgot that all is Spirit. Like you said, “Only Spirit can heal Spirit.”  Yes. Oh, yes.

That is where I will find It again. In you – in your Spirit. You are the Heirloom.

You are the embodiment of my Legacy.

I will seek you, Grandmother. I will find you again and again in my dreams and visions. I will rediscover my purpose and my Witch-blood will once again ring pure and true. The crux of the Mysteries will be found in my past and in the blood-line of my Ancestors.

The Crux of the Mysteries will be found in the Heirloom.

My Heart and Spirit will be found again and I shall become an Heirloom to those after me. I won’t forget. Not this time.

One day, we shall walk together, you and I, down that dusty, rocky road, our tresses dragging the Earth, both of us smelling of sweet mesquite and gardenias. I will wear a paisley cotton dress.

Now I know where It all went. It has been inside of me all along.

It has been found.


Image: M.M. Moore – Private collection of the author.

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I Will Fly on Black Wings

Where the Serpent sleeps and the Daemons howl.
I will rise about the petty, the impure, the thoughtless
And with Dragon’s breath,
Glide over the lives of the ignorantly unaware

Dullards whose hearts and wits are dimmed
By laziness
Excess and envy.

I will Fly on Black Wings

Scorching the Earth beneath me
Screaming in ecstasy at my Transformation
I have Met the Darkness
I have kneeled in front of the Ancients
I have conversed with the Dead and

Broke bread with the Powers of the Cosmos

I will Fly on Black Wings

And leave desolate those with no understanding.
I go to meet the King of my heart
My Infernal Lover and the Holder of all my Secrets

He who lifts me above the mire of conformity and the
Stigma of the Witchblood.

I will Fly on Black Wings

And forever be
Lost to this world

Yet eternally soaring in the moonlit skies

Joining the Dark Revenant of Those
Soaring before me.

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The Resurrection

Sunset, Vercors Mountains - © Guillaume Piolle / CC-BY-3.0

Sunset, Vercors Mountains – © Guillaume Piolle 



Yes, today I will celebrate a resurrection; my own.

Fresh from the emerald Earth I rise anew, face lifted towards the shining sun, and decide that Today is the Day I start thinking for myself.

No more belief in what is fed to me.
No more comforting dependence on anyone but myself.

No more tears over what I’ve lost.
No more fears of the unknown.

Yes, today I will celebrate a resurrection; my own.

Fresh from the emerald Earth I rise anew, face lifted towards the shining sun, and decide that Today is the Day I start believing in myself.

Instead of following, I choose to lead.
Instead of surviving, I choose to live.

Instead of laying down in defeat, I choose to stand and fight.
Instead of blind obedience, I choose intelligent defiance.

I need no savior to purchase my freedom.
I have always been Free. The Promethean Flame of the Light Bringer burns in my soul.

he Masks of the Adversary, from age to age, bring enlightenment and like this Resurrection morning, reveal the Truth of my origin and the Source of my rebellion.

Yes, today I will celebrate a resurrection; my own.

Fresh from the emerald Earth I rise anew, face lifted towards the shining sun, and decide that Today is the Day

I Become.

Image: © Guillaume Piolle / CC-BY-3.0

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Daemonolatry – Evoking the Old Ones

Mihály Zichy - A kísértetek órája 'The Ghost Hour', (1880)

Mihály Zichy – A kísértetek órája ‘The Ghost Hour’, (1880)

Evocation can be a tender and touchy subject, especially among Daemonolators.

Most of the vitriolic responses you will see from Daemonolators regarding evocation are primarily directed to one school of thought; this is the ‘Command and Compel’ practice, frequently used in Ceremonial Magick.

Within this evocational form, a Daemon is conjured and ‘commanded’ by the magician to appear as dictated, perform tasks as requested and then ‘banished’. There is typically much fanfare, preparation, use of props and correspondences beforehand as well as many safety precautions during and after.

I am not making light of the fact that many highly esteemed magicians and powerful Workers do adhere to this mindset. While I may admire their dedication and knowledge, I do not agree with their philosophy. I find it oppressive, dictatorial, and quite frankly, backward.

Perhaps it is my upbringing in an animist environment, but I see no difference between speaking to the Ancient Daemonic Powers and speaking to a plant Spirit in my backyard.

All forms of Spirit are merely Strands on the Great Web. I am no better or worse than any plant, animal or insect Spirit, any Elemental, any God, Daemon or Goddess.

We are all, each of us, incarnate or discarnate, part of the Great All.

I do not see myself as ‘above’ the Powers, nor do I cower with fear in Their presence.

The form of evocation I prefer is one of friendship; an intimacy that has been solidified over time and with that communion and foundation of trust, there is a give and take – as with any amiable discourse, we both decide to ‘show up’ and learn from the other and about the other.

It takes time.

I build camaraderie with the Powers. I spend time speaking to Them, listening to Them, making offerings, etc.

As with any relationship, time spent in this endeavour is richly rewarded.  I am not using this companionship as a mere ruse to gain Their favour.

I sincerely do wish to know Them. I want to be friends with Them. I want to know what makes Them ‘tick’.

After the ‘dating’ period – after we both have gained in experience and knowledge of each other, I invite one or more of the Powers to be ‘present’ with me in my Working.

I ask for Their aid, Their guidance and assistance. This is my evocation. This is my petition.

I am among Friends and so are They.

I have found that when I seek the Old Ones for assistance AFTER having spent time with Them and They with me, the aid given is given freely.

There is no need for commanding, compelling, or banishment. They come of Their own free will, assist as They may, and leave of Their own accord.

I have never had a Daemon ‘not show’ or refuse to help. Ever.

I have never been possessed, terrorized or dishonoured.

I think many of the unhappy and alarming experiences you hear about regarding the Old Ones is due to the fear, trepidation and dread many have when approaching the Unknown.

Every person will perceive a Spirit as a direct reflection of their own Being and Consciousness.

The Universe reflects what we, in our deep minds, believe and dwell upon.

If you are fearful, then you shall experience fear.

If you believe the Spirits are ‘out to get you’ and must be imprisoned so they will not harm you, then an evocation for you may indeed be frightening, with unsatisfying results.

To the pure, all things are pure.

To the desolate, all things lead to desolation.


We are not so very different from the Spirits.

We all seek friendship, understanding, and respect.

We all are flawed, misunderstood and sometimes weak.

We all feel lost, alone, burdened and adrift.

If we can take the time to understand those who still dwell in the Body, then how much more so should we take the time to learn about and understand Those without physical form?

Being conscious, aware and intelligent is not just the domain of humans – life and consciousness exist well beyond the boundary of the human body and in the recesses of primordial consciousness, the Spirits still dwell, ever watching, ever listening.

Perhaps, in truth, They are evoking us.

That thought makes me smile.


Image: Mihály Zichy – A kísértetek órája ‘The Ghost Hour’ (1880)

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I Have a Thing for Feathers

A Single White Feather, Joao Estevao Andrade de Freitas

A Single White Feather, Joao Estevao Andrade de Freitas



I have a thing for feathers.

Each time I see one on the hallowed ground, I bow.
For its symbolism is not lost on me.

Out of the myths and legends of time densely shrouded

When people told stories to make sense of the world
Wings and feathers were given to the Messengers, the Watchers.

The Firstborn out of the Void.

One fine, glossy plume symbolizing
Manifestation out of the Endless midnight

Nothing turns into Something.

And so it begins.

Denied freedom, and set to keep vigil on those denied the same,

Observance turns into knowledge.
Knowledge turns into longing.

Longing turns into rebellion.

And so it begins.

One singed, gossamer wing symbolizing

Disobedience. Insurrection. The quest for Self.
Then, cast down and out.

Set to wander the Terrestrial plane

A vital Sovereignty is later established.
The pale cold light of blind obedience

Extinguished and in its place,

The hot, stinging Black Flame of enlightenment
Shines like a beacon

Calling all others,

We who are also weary of the cold light
We also cast down and out,

Invited to join Them.

And so it begins.

I have a thing for feathers.

Each time I see one on the hallowed ground, I bow.
For its symbolism is not lost on me.


Image: A Single White Feather, Joao Estevao Andrade de Freitas
[Public Domain]

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