A tale of old times and of one fateful evening wherein our wizard
almost goes bonkers
I was going through an unstable time. Magic was real, I was working nonstop, my family was growing, I was drinking too much, and I was depressed. Terrestrial life was consuming me. The ol’ noggin’ wasn’t in prime condition. I was due a night out with an old friend. Whew, relief…
I met Moose, my friend’s nickname, a couple years before but hadn’t seen him since. He was a best friend of one of my best friends. By default, we were pals. We were into the same things, namely, substance abuse. I get to his apartment and do the friendly thing. I meet his roommates and we chat for a minute before we go upstairs to get down to business and catch up. I’m thinking about magic as he asks what I’ve been up to. That has been a revelatory change in my life but how to mention it? Thelema, spells, synchronicities? I keep the information to myself and say that I’ve been studying poetry and philosophy. He tells me he’s had a rough time, implying drugs. He’s moved from Atlanta and was glad to move back to his home state. He was emoting and I was glad to be the pal who had his back. After some more chatting we soon enter a sufficiently altered state of consciousness and took off to a bar.
At this point in my magical career I had been practicing a couple years. I was into Zen, poetry, and Thelema. I had recently begun a chaos magic style attempt at contacting my Holy Guardian Angel with the goal of achieving enlightenment. Bold. I had shocking and blesséd success when my Angel revealed himself me, inviting me to invoke. I soon after had his name and image as sigil. The initiatory process had begun. I was following Alan Chapman & Duncan Barford’s work so I knew that I would soon be in the Abyss. These experiences were a whole new ballgame compared to the typical invocation or spell and believing it was all in your head.
To this day, I don’t know the name of the bar we visited or even which street we were on. As soon as we walked in, things got weird. Over drinks, my friend begins telling me about his life in Atlanta. His job, the girls, the nightlife, he was downtrodden with the whole thing. I’m listening intently, like a good friend, when my concentration was broken. Up crept a strong feeling that it wasn’t real. I thought to myself, “Oh my god he thinks this is real. He thinks the voice in his head is really him. He thinks his thoughts are him”. This level of insight was new to me but I intuitively understood. The voice in your head isn’t you. This is what Ramana Maharshi calls the ‘I-thought’. I knew at this point that my inner narrative, this inner monologue, wasn’t a true depiction of reality. That reality was something else. But my friend believed it. He really believed it. Yet my mind was clear. Foggy headed though I was, I knew this deception, this entity, was Choronzon. Fuck! I knew it then and there that Choronzon was manifesting himself to me in the form of my friend. Though nervous, I felt playful enough with my newfound insight that I began teasing and egging on the demon. “Oh really? Is that so? Is that what you think?” Not a great friend move but it’s what happened. As we continued to talk, my brain got darker and darker as we got drunker. I became afraid.
When we got back to his apartment I was downright terrified. I was talking to the fucking demon of the abyss and he’s inside of my friend. I said my quick goodbyes, what I can remember of them, heard his roommate say, “is he okay”, as I drunkenly slammed the door behind me.
Hail unto Thee who art Ra in Thy rising,
even unto Thee who art Ra in Thy strength,
who travellest over the Heavens in Thy bark
at the Uprising of the Sun¹.
Waking up the next morning, of course having a massive hangover, I had to get some relief. I step into the garage to go for my bowl to light up and get high. It was a new bowl, pretty, deep purple and black. I named her Nuit. But Nuit was missing. I should have had her on me. I check my car and normal hiding spots. Disappointed, I figured I left her at my friend’s apartment in the rush to get the hell out of there.
Nuit, being a Goddess and the divine conception of the infinite night sky, is also a metaphor for the Underworld², and thus the Abyss. That night in my altered state, I journeyed to the underworld, confronted the demon of dispersion and confusion, Choronzon, gained wisdom into the workings of the mind and thus the universe via Hermetic equivalency, and made it out alive, reborn, to greet the uprising of the Sun, à la consciousness. Which we’ll cover in Part 2.
The Hero’s journey. Ancient, shamanic journeying. Taking place in a modern, urban setting. The Fool’s first steps. What a blessing to be a part of this timeless spiritual initiation.
…stay tuned for Part 2: Pan.
¹ Liber Resh vel Helios
² Star.Ships – Gordon White