Tuesday, October 31, 2017

Intervention: People and their Demons

Demon. Source: Pixabay

Protecting People from the Harm of Demons, or from Themselves?

by Joodhe (Jude)

A few weeks ago on Facebook I put up a post; it issued a thank you to the people that had over time sent individuals to me, that were in need of help in extricating themselves from situations where they felt they were being attacked by demons. When the post was published, one of my Facebook friends posted a question, that read: "I read a quote somewhere and right now I cannot find it. Basically it said many people think they are invoking demons but most often what they call forth is a malevolent spirit that attaches itself to them. They didn't cast a circle or they played with magick without respect and it bit them. However, I find in my own studies and works, that demons don't mess with idiots unless they deliberately disrespect them."

Now what was not delved into within the FB thread I referred to, is that I do not fully agree with the concept that "most people call forth attachments," because I have not monitored how enough people do their magick, nor do I know the results that would occur if they would standardly do their magick without protection. Anyone writer would be presumptuous to make such a statement. I do however agree that demons react unfavorably when disrespected.

The truth is that though it is standardly recommended to use protection, the greatest protection in any instance including magick, is in what you allow yourself to believe. If you believe that you are protected and are dealing exclusively with the entities you wish to invoke, then that's what your experience will be. Period. Some question this, but this is how you create a shield servitor--by believing it's there. In a short time it will be empowered to protect you.

Ethereal blue demoness. Source: Pixabay

Anyway, back to the thought at hand, which is, to the comment posed my response was: "People commonly talk about 'facing one's demons.' And the term is apropos, because demons can show people how ignorant they are, and in that way are an invaluable tool. One lesson demons seem to be in a hurry to give people, is that if they are feared they will give the person in question good reason to fear them. That's why some of the attacks are so aggressive, because the person under attack lets their fear increase as the attack increases, and the whole thing keeps snowballing.

What they should do, is reach out to that demon and accept them in peace - just chill and accept. Then there is unlikely to be any further issue. This is unfortunately at times recognized after the individual has spent significant money elsewhere. I agree with you, that people who do not know proper magickal procedure should not be working in magick, more so when their vibration frequency is low, and anyone can hit a time when theirs is low, so yes, adequate protection is necessary." (Within this article it has previously been explained how I feel about protection in magick - to control the mind is all that's required; and this comment at first glance seems to contradict that. But it would be unwise for me to recommend anyone not use protection. We are the knowledge keepers, and the highest quality information must be given to those that do not know, and from there their path can be wrought. I truly believe it's all in the mind; but if there is doubt, bases must be covered.)

From this point on the conversation will be shown in the format it occurred in, as a Facebook conversational stream. There will be notes and remarks added in. 

Them: Facing one's demons to me is a metaphor for facing my inner conflicts, the demons in my own head that hold the roots to the issues that cause me to fear and hold me back, like my religious upbringing. Not actual demons. Those I have met (demons) have been only willing to help once asked. They never forced themselves into my life and workings. Rather that they revealed they were available and waited for me to come to them. Infinite love and patience was shown as I took my time facing my fears and finding my way.

Celestial demonic entity. Source: Pixabay

Me:  I like the parallel drawn. A real demon won't attack a person for absolutely no reason either. At the very least, if they have been sent to attack and the person on the receiving end fears demons, then that person's lesson becomes to learn not to fear demons. In learning not to fear demons the situation is dealt with accordingly, the attack ends.

Them: Food for thought...
So is it actual demons attacking or is it our fear manifesting demons through the projection of those fears?
If what we believe is what we bring forth are we not therefore creating our own 'demons'?

Me: ...what you have said reminds me, that there are some parallels between spirits and servitors. Servitors are created for a certain purpose, or when sentient, are created with a tendency towards having certain traits and abilities. Spirits are 'after-energies' of beings that once lived, and entities are living energy beings. It could be said that spirits are mutable, as are entities, immortals, and servitors. When I say they are mutable I mean that they are in ways affected by our thoughts. And while servitors are created, the others are not. If I give examples of how they may be affected by thought, this thread could go on forever, so I'll leave it at that.

Spirits are already in existence (so we don't create them), as are entities and immortals. But yes, demons react to fear, and as already discussed on another thread we know that right from spirits to immortals, energy beings will change how they appear according to what a person believes, and also the characteristics they have can change and their natures can change. So while we do not create them, we fuel them with our thoughts in certain ways. Some people as you know get very showy displays in the presence of faeries and/or angels, while others get nothing. Some consistently get attachments while others get none, and some get attacked by demons while the next person may be attacked on a low level or even perhaps not at all (when demons are sent to attack I mean).

Many work with demons and never ever have a problem with one, while another cannot control them at all or cannot work in harmony with them. This is because people manage these spirits by their thoughts and beliefs.

I drew the parallel between servitors and these other beings, because when a servitor is created, it is created entirely by the powers of the mind, from the ground up. Whereas the effect of the mind on other energy beings is added on after, to the essence of what they already were. But in both instances what is going on in the mind holds much power. It seems that we add a servitor-like overlay to the demons we deal with.

Them: Talk about a rabbit hole...

And thereafter the chat  was lighthearted and faded away into nothingness. A very interesting conversation if there ever was one - evocative to spirit keepers, spirit conjurers, and to magick practitioners at least. There's only one thing I feel compelled to add - that when I say that if a person can control their thoughts that they will not be afflicted with attachments; there is one instance where it is not so...

When a person's thoughts have been negative long enough it brings their vibrational frequency down; down low enough that even if they choose to change their beliefs at that period in time, attachments will not immediately leave. In my days working to alleviate people of such attachments and attacks, this was a problem. This issue takes work to resolve. It's not necessarily easy to raise one's spiritual vibration. So I would describe the process to the person requesting assistance--how they would have to regularly smudge, meditate, cleanse their aura, and listen to frequency raising binaural beats. Nearly as sure as the sun shines, that's the point when I'd never hear from them again. Why? Because in instances when I checked back, they hadn't bothered to follow the necessary steps to upgrade their vibration. That was their business entirely - it's the choice they made.

For the record, I no longer help people rid themselves of demonic attacks and entity attachments, for the aforementioned reason. They primarily remain with people that cannot or will not take all necessary steps to eradicate their problem, in which case it becomes clear that they in fact do not want to cure the very problem they sought my help in dealing with. My time is far too precious for that; but I do feel for those who can no longer access my help due to this conflict of interest. However, if I knew that someone seriously needed my help and was prepared to do as necessary, surely I'd be there for them.

Saturday, October 7, 2017

Putting the Tarot's Star in Context: Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here

The Thoth Star card
Crowley/Harris, Thoth "The Star" tarot card

Quite Telling of Each other - The Tarot's Star Card and this Astrological Age

by Race MoChridhe

The Star is, unquestionably, one of the best-loved cards in the Tarot. Across multiple decks, it is routinely voted “most beautiful”, and I have yet to meet the reader who does not breathe a sigh of relief upon seeing it, taking comfort in its traditional meanings of peace, inspiration, guidance, and hope.

Hope, however, is a complicated thing. The name of the infamous Pandora originally meant “all-giving”, and it appears that the earliest version of her tale cast her as a goddess bringing humanity a jar of blessings. The Greek poet Hesiod, however, reinterpreted her as “all-gifted”—a divinely crafted seductress whose irresistible charms led man to ruin when she opened a jar (“box” is a Renaissance mistranslation) of curses from the gods, unleashing pestilence upon the world and leaving only hope inside. Interpreters have argued over the story’s end for 2500 years. Why was hope left at the bottom of the jar? Did the jar seal hope off from humanity or prevent its flying away, so that humanity might keep it? Most importantly, is hope a blessing that empowers us to endure the jar’s myriad of evils, or is it a curse—a false hope that only increases our torments?

Our world today certainly seems to have more of this latter kind of hope than it does of the former. The hope of our time has best been described as a vague “progress-ism” which assumes that, despite all setbacks, the natural trajectory of all science and scholarship, all politics and economics, even all spirituality and morality, is “up” or “forward” (with the relative direction of these terms being defined by whichever demagogue happens to suit the moment). To the adherents of this unusual ideology—unknown anywhere in the world before the Renaissance and anywhere outside Europe before the “Enlightenment”—the Star’s traditional association with the sign of Aquarius seems the consummation of hope. The incoming Age of Aquarius, held by a majority of astrologers to have begun sometime in the 20th century, is widely held to be, in the words of the musical Hair, a time of “Harmony and understanding / Sympathy and trust abounding / No more falsehoods or derisions / Golden living dreams of visions / Mystic crystal revelation / And the mind’s true liberation”. This is to put something of a gloss on the raw data, however.

More soberly expressed, the common attributes of the Aquarian Age are usually given as some variant of this list: electricity, computers, flight, democracy, freedom, humanitarianism, idealism, modernization, nervous disorders, rebellion, nonconformity, philanthropy, humanity. The dire implications of some of these, such as nervous disorders, are already evident enough to require no further comment. Many of Aquarius’ more insidious elements, however, have not yet come to be commonly recognized.

The Piscean Age was a time of deep feeling (as befits a water sign). Life was, in consequence, intensely personal. In the West, the family was the dominant social institution, the economy and the bulk of social services were in the hands of local guilds and church institutions, and political power was mediated by bonds of personal loyalty. It was also, in keeping with the mutable and dual nature of the sign, a period in which human beings were understood as bridging the spiritual and the material worlds. For this reason, political thought was largely dyarchic, seeing both the spiritual and temporal authorities as working best when in balance with one another.

The Star, tarot
Rider Waite Smith, "The Star" tarot card

As the copious efforts of medieval copyists to preserve ancient literature attest, even the Pagan and Christian inheritances of Western culture were reconciled in a view well summarized by Nicolás Gómez Dávila, who wrote that “Paganism is the other Old Testament of the Church”. The Piscean world strove to balance the vaultingly universal with the intensely personal, the transcendentally spiritual with the avowedly worldly, and faithfulness to the past with authenticity in the present. It left us the great cathedrals and the romances of the troubadours by which to pass judgement on its efforts.

The Age of Aquarius can only be understood by contrast, because this close to its inception, its qualities are less absolute values than they are movements relative to the Piscean order. It is a time of rationalization and abstract intellect (as befits an air sign), in which the arts have decayed and spirituality has become scorned. It claims to care deeply for “humanity”, but exhibits no patience with the particularity and diversity of flesh-and-blood human beings, presiding over the most rapid and violent extinctions of languages, religions, and folkways in human history. It has desacralized the family, broken the guilds, and usurped the personal loyalties that once gave security and meaning to human life, replacing them with a vast, impersonal bureaucracy that regards its subjects as so much human livestock, devoid of any need or aspiration beyond being dry and well fed.

The Aquarian narrowing of human vision to the purely intellectual has prized rationality and efficiency over the sacrality and aesthetic of traditional craft, and thereby devalued the working woman and man. It is in the attempted remedies to this crisis that the astrologically “fixed” nature of Aquarius has become most apparent. In place of the Piscean reverence for human heritage and humility before nature (human and otherwise), which promoted a certain measure of flexibility in the thinking of that time, the Aquarian world believes itself the culmination of history and proclaims itself lord over a dead universe, imagining that all problems can be resolved by an ever more intense exploitation of the natural world and by the rigidly universalistic enforcement of materialist values and ideals that, in their reductivism, are regarded as immutable laws of nature. Chief among these is mass democracy—the conversion of organic communities into atomized electorates, the replacement of local leadership by the “will of the people” on an abstracted national scale, the reimagining of responsibilities to others as rights for oneself—a sickness peddled as a cure.

Such Aquarian traits as flight and humanitarianism have thus not found their expression, as the writers of Hair were still able to hope in a swelling of human unity, at the vision of the earth from space, but instead have come upon the plane of manifestation as relentless bombing campaigns against Iraq, Libya, Syria, and a dozen other nations in a quixotic bid to rain freedom down in shell casings. If the reader thinks this vision unduly pessimistic, she may consider for herself whether as much of the Age of Aquarius as she has experienced answers better to the promises of Hair or to the predictions of the Australian astrologer Robert Ziller, who has suggested that “the Pisces world… will be replaced in the Aquarian Age by a world ruled by secretive, power-hungry elites seeking absolute power over others… knowledge in the Aquarian Age will only be valued for its ability to win wars… knowledge and science will be abused… the Aquarian Age will be a Dark Age in which religion is considered offensive” (“The Use of Archetypes in Prediction,” The FAA Journal 32.3, September 2002, pp: 37–53).

There is a certain sense, then, in which the hope offered by the Star is a curse—a false hope that the evils of pollution can be fixed by more industry, or that the evils of political instability can be cured by further regime change—follies that have their more personal reflections in readings for clients who are taking out loans for a Ph.D. because their Master’s degree in the same subject was unemployable, or who are thinking of having a baby to fix their broken marriage. In the sequence of the major arcana, the Star is followed directly by the Moon—a card traditionally associated with fear, illusion, and bewilderment. Joan Bunning writes of this transition that, “his [the Fool’s] bliss [coming from the Star] makes him vulnerable to the illusions of the Moon. … In his dreamy condition, the Fool is susceptible to fantasy, distortion, and a false picture of the truth.”

As I look at the Star amidst the failures of progress-ism, however, I find myself paradoxically inspired by another kind of hope—the hope that is implicit in despair. It is a truism of pop psychology that people do not change until it becomes too painful to stay the same. It is only when the Fool is well and truly lost in the moonlight that he realizes that the Star has not guided him, and only then that he can turn from it and begin to perceive that what appeared as darkness while he was striving toward the unobtainable light of a far-off sun, is in fact the reflected light of his own proper star. Once he turns his vision from the Star to the Moon, he finds the Moon transfigured, in his new and deeper spiritual perception, into the Sun.

Such is the epiphany of one who moves back from the big city to her small hometown, or who stops chasing some dream job upon realizing that he can find contentment in the career to which fortune has led him. Perhaps someday it will also be the epiphany of a world that turns its back on industrialism and mass politics, and douses its electric lights so that it can, once more, behold a blanket of real stars.

llustrations from the Rider-Waite Tarot Deck®, known also as the Rider Tarot and the Waite Tarot, reproduced by permission of U.S. Games Systems, Inc., Stamford, CT 06902 USA. Copyright ©1971 by U.S. Games Systems, Inc. Further reproduction prohibited. The Rider-Waite Tarot Deck® is a registered trademark of U.S. Games Systems, Inc.

RWS image is a Wikimedia file from a 1909 deck originally scanned by Holly Voley http://home.comcast.net/~vilex/

Thoth image copyright (c) US Games Systems Inc.; AGMuller; O.T.O.

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