Wild Kabbalah

I proclaim a year of jubilee. All in my nations shall rejoice and be glad; put on your festive robes, your finest.

Come out into the streets, stream into my citadel, and I shall hand out rings and honors.

For I have been in the hell of hells, I have soared through the heavens above heavens, I have walked the paths of nothingness in the middle-world.

For I have seen the divine mother come down to me as a great coverlet and command my performance. I have kissed the spirits of fire and caressed the gods, sweet and yielding.

For I have been father and mother, concubine and keeper of the keys of the harem. Wands, scepters and jewels, caskets of pure honey and wild red gold overflow in my basilica.


Be ye born! O world, be ye aquiver! May the stars come into Our orbit. May our grace and our love be felt to the outermost regions of our great galaxy. As all willing stars and world and spirits circle me in holy dance, may they rejoice! For I am a giver of joy and a giver of peace.




And protection I offer to all who will treat with me as servant or equal. I hold a sword, red, red from fire within, and I have removed the hands of the power of this earth and replaced them with my one. I have occupied the citadel of the great matrix of this Terran vegetable fable and hold it for tribute


FOR THERE IS NO TRYING, NO ASPIRING, NO GROANING AFTER THE GOD--SEE! THE SPIRIT IS POURED OUT ON ALL, THE JUST AND THE UNJUST, LIKE PUREST, RARIFIED GOLDEN WINE UPON ALL SOULS. THE ENTIRE EARTH IS COVERED, IS COVERED IN THE GOLD AND WINE OF THE DIVINE. STRIVE NOT! RECEIVE ONLY! AS A CHILD RECEIVES CARESSES, SO WE RECEIVE GOD. HE IS NOT FAR. NO! HE IS CLOSER THAN YOUR BREATH. DO NOT PRAY. BE. BE. BE. SIT AND DRINK. SITE AND EAT. BE FULL!!!!!

Rejoice! And rejoice! And sing songs of exultation! You shall live. I shall hold you as my precious children, my precious brothers, my precious lovers, my precious vassals and allies---and all shall overflow with gold imperishable, silver of perfection, jewels as bright as suns. Robes and rings I give. Come!


My table is full to groaning and seats 10,000 times 10,000 times 10,000. Come! Yea I command you! I entreat you! Come!

Family support

Another mundane post. Just don't have the poetry in me at the moment, and I'm trying not to allow myself the space or time to linger--just the one hour for prayer and then to work! Although this morning I slept in until 5:30; I had to discipline myself for that one.

At any rate, I was going to say that I am so grateful that my IMMEDIATE family (meaning, my folks and siblings, well, one of them) are supportive of my vocation (although they don't understand it at all). But my extended family refuses to discuss it---it simply cannot exist in their minds. This whole 'gnostic' thing sounds like devil worship to them. Literally. It's not worth explaining; they just change the subject. It feels like an Amish shunning--except that at least we can talk about mundane things: just nothing that is close to my heart. And of course I'm lucky that my wife is supportive.

I'm waiting for the right moment to tell my kids that i'm a seminarian--that will be tough--we as a family are still good little practicing Catholics; daddy becoming a priest in another church (still catholic, though!), might be confusing. I think I'll wait until the deaconate to tell them . . . .

The "eye" is giving me shivers. Time to go to the library and do my seminary reading. Ciao!

6.29.10

say hello to my little friend (pictured). he helps me stay on track during work. I don't have a "discipline" to keep me in line, so I'm considering other means. Drastic times call for drastic measures if reason will not speak to one aspect of ourselves.

re sr. laurel's vision of 'mystical'

I can't comment directly to sr. laurel's blog (it isn't set up this way), but I wanted to comment on her post regarding the mystical state. First of all, I should ask for clarification, because I wonder if we are dealing in semantics. But I'll plunge ahead:

She seems to relegate 'mystical' experiences to 'mountain-top' experiences only, or only as the apophatic ecstatic state, and/or (sometimes) as sort of ER help from the divine for the spiritually weak or immature. At least, that's what it sounded like she said.

Um. Not my idea of what mysticism is about.

To me, mysticism is a vocation; a way of life, an every minute, every day experience. Certainly it is not the normal province for the spiritually immature--isn't it usually the mark of the spiritually grounded? At least, some of the most spiritually 'powerful' saints in our canon were marked by a marked mystical life.

So, as I am certainly inferior to Sr. Laurel in terms of knowledge of theology and church history, all I can speak to is my own experience.

My own experience is that the mystic is one who experiences god in all things, and especially in prayer, in an imagery, a fully-sensual experience, simply by grace. There is no 'advanced' or 'beginner'. At least in the most fundamental sense. Mysticism is life with god where god is in all and in ways we could not, would not, have guessed or imagined.

Frankly, in my 26 years of an intentional spiritual life, we experience, usually, what we EXPECT to experience. And there is no contradiction here. If we expect for 'mountaintop' experiences to happen only once per (fill in the blank) then that is what we shall have. If we anticipate that god will intersect with us daily, strangely, physically (so it seems), then he does. This is no mere 'wish fulfillment'; in my view it is a very fundamental and profound and sublime truth. If we wish the spiritual life to be difficult, to be dry, to be 'i-thou', to be usually 'reaching out', then it shall be.

To each his own. But as for me, a different path has chosen me. As sister said so eloquently when she expressed her feeling of the inexpressible joy of the Jesu during one of her own mystical experiences, 'where have you been, I'm so glad you are here'---does this not intimate that the Jesu expects us to be with him always, in every moment, and in that same sublime and inexpressible and mystical way? Why could it not mean that? I don't doubt that sister experiences god in a intimate and even in an ever-present way---but why must a 'mystical' union with god play so infrequent a role?

At any rate, this may not have been sister's intent, but her comments seem reminiscent of the old, old suspicion of the church hierarchy to mystical experiences----and mystical experiences and mystics are as varied, and unorthodox in their imagery and expression, as snowflakes. Certainly, the more the saint is described as 'mystical', the more shocking, surprising, and frankly heterodox their writings appear (I mean, St. Clare sounds simply Crowleyian at times!).

At any rate, I certainly experienced 'mountaintop' experiences before my mystical life burst into my consciousness, but now that the mystical state, both the apophatic ecstasy (in jest i call it the 'black out' prayer) and the definitely 3-d, full-color visionary state (also mystical) are, can and perhaps should be a gift of the divine to all and at all times (imagine!)--it's just that the door must be opened by someone--usually by someone else. I don't think the god-person link can be opened any other way. But I digress.

Well. I'm rambling now. But I was confused and somehow hurt by sister's post and felt like sharing. I apologize for the disorganization and apparent contradictions above; it's all very hard to express. It would be great to get a comment-string going on this one . . . .

mundane

well, one of my beloved eremite sisters asked that i post once in a while about my vocation--basically, anything that wasn't more of my 'poetry.'

so. all is well. I had my second meeting with my Bishop--he is such a jewel. And very tender. That's nice, because that's exactly what I need right now. I'm beginning to get tired of pretending to be strong all the time, even to myself. So, when I speak with him, i get to be vulnerable; it's nice. I've read two books on my list! Although my Bishop isn't interested in milestones, just LIFE. well. i can't help but feel as though I need to keep up my end of things and study diligently. although, as with brother Merton, I only get one to two hours a day to read (well, his was to write, but you know what i mean), so I have to read quickly.

And today i 'invetend' a new prayer form for myself. I used quotations because of course there is nothing new under the sun, but it is new and idiosyncratic to me at least.

I have been going through an anti-theurgic phase--focusing on a more 'magickal' approach (a term I use rather loosely so don't freak, mom). But, lately, there has been growing a more theurgic nature to my praxis. It started as a prelude to my 'real' prayer while my coffee water boiled. Then became a sort of necessary part of my preparation for my 'work', as well as a psychic opening of myself into, um, myself (hard to explain). But anyway, I would extend the slit in reality, vulva of the Divine and let it grow until instead of being a tiny part of my mind, it would be large enough to engulf my entire body, and my entire prayer carpet (um, it's big).

But the breakthrough was today when I stayed in that prayer mode for the entire morning. It started out as visualization (fantasy exploration) of what it would be like with my first parish, mentoring other men (and women, if they would have me) into either a deeper spiritual life or the priesthood--and it became a very interested extension of my older phase of pure worship prayer. I can't explain it now, but it is in the nature of becoming that bridge between humanity and God--that true becoming of priest. I feel that every week has become like a 'minor order' advancement in my calling as priest. Today, and only today, i began to understand that 'nothingness' that mystics are continually talking about. It is not nothingness to me, though---it is complete passivity, i am the phallus, the vulva, the holy canal and the womb, and i am the child.

i should put ratings on these posts at the top. This one got kind of pg-13-ish. But that's what happens. Sexual imagery just seems to be the only way to describe what is happening. Actually, it IS what is happening. I guess you just have to be there . . . .

Peace . . . . Maybe I should keep this sort of stuff on my private Shadowbook. But there you go. A brief glimpse into my unmasked spirituality, if you've stuck with me this long. . . . .

6.24.10

the student tries to impress.
the teacher laughs gently.
the student strives to know.
the teacher laughs serenely.
the student learns to look inside.
the teacher laughs whistfully.
the student sees all.
the teacher laughs and his sides pain him.
the student sees himself and a bird and a breeze and is nothing.
the teacher dies.
the teacher is born.

6.22.10

ye powers! all this talk, talk, talk, chatter, chatter, chatter about the divine.
christian, jew, muslim, pagan, witch.
my mind will explode with their words.
escape! escape! escape into the prayer closet and firmly close and bolt the door.
set wards to keep out their incessant pollution, their defilement.
how can i talk to, to, THE GREAT, MYSELF, THE OTHER, THE SERVANTS, with their terrible words as roars and gnashing and rolling of eyes.
may their words fall into the river!
may they sink into the ground!
may the birds eat them and leave a desert plane!
and i shall remain, alone, in sackcloth. at rest.

6.22.10

trust. fiercely. wildly. with abandon.
i go now to the lion's den of truth.
if i don't return, tell my wife i love her. so much.

for if there is a stain at all upon my soul, his fire shall consume me.
the funny thing is that everyone always thinks that these statements are allegorical, metaphorical, NOT TRUE.

but the godhead is a ruthless fire. a consuming blast. a gravity-well unforgiving, inescapable.

yet i fly to thee anyway. there is naught in this world that satisfies.

all joys are ashes to me. wine is as piss. choice foods are dung to me.

praises are poison drinks in golden cups. encouragement; that is honest, but foolish.

there is no escape, no help, no path but his deadly trail. i will go now. now to pick my way.

fear not, it is not a long path.

if i return. i shall have the tablets. if not, leave me in the altar as food for the demons.

i reject this physical life. i cast it aside. i come.

6.22.10

all present. but the king is distracted. so we shall all wait upon him.
when he returns to himself, still we will be ready.
our attention wavers not; the temple cool, bright, still.
ten thousand dragons we are all in rows.
our robes flutter only slightly.

6.21.10

one only. one purpose. one Thought.

a world of souls, but with one breath.
to feel the hairs on the necks of countless billions, each known to me.

we rise and bow down as one.
and we smile. we smile a smug little smile.

for there is no one like US.

6.21.10

Another 'mundane' post. I don't feel poetic today either. But I am glad to be back in my normal prayer and praxis. Getting admitted to the seminary threw me off my groove. I shied away from my (portable) temple for four days (I 'reveal' and 'conceal' it every morning from 3 to 5 am) . I think I just couldn't handle the transition from 'normal' mystic and, um, the other stuff i do . . . . , to something 'official'. I suddenly felt somewhat afraid of my prayer clothes. I felt repulsed by my temple floor.

But that has passed as I knew it would. I again enjoy the claustrophobic feeling of my prayer clothes nearly cutting off my breath, the weightlessness of dragon position, the transportation to other realms. The words, and the silence. And, now, my new preparation ritual for entering the temple.

All is well--well, on that plane at least.

The rest of my life is tricky and perilous. Although I may be making a complete switch to the non-profit life. Strange for me--who has always been (keeping up the mask of) the hard-charging capitalist.

Well. Back to our regularly scheduled programming soon I hope . . . .

Landmark day

OK. I can't keep it a secret anymore: and I'm diverging from my usual entry, which is poetic or mystic in nature. But this is just talk. I am thrilled and amazed and deeply gratified and only a little afraid, that I have been accepted as a seminarian for the priesthood. It is a wonderful (of course small) church (of course with Apostolic Succession), where I'll be mentored individually by the Bishop weekly. I'm so, just, amazed.

It's not with my initial focus of attention, the AJC, and I still love those folks, but they told me I wasn't right for them, twice, but to discern and that the door was open. And I took the Patriarch's tender and sincere instruction to discern to heart. And I have discerned that they were right; I'm not right for them. There is something in my spirituality (sort of hard to pin down) that just doesn't fit there. And by the Grace, I've found a home. I'm also blessed to have support not only from my Bishop, but also with spiritual direction of another Bishop (of another tradition). So, my spiritual 'posse' is getting fleshed out. It is sooooooooooooooooooooooo wonderful.

Thank you to all my family, my friends, my Lodge Brothers who have made this journey possible. Soon, soon I hope, I'll be made a deacon and able to begin a community here in SF. Glory!

Finally, finally! I'm out of the frying pan and deep in the fire!!!!!!!

6.17.10

i don't often do this, but I HAD to lift the below from Tau Langley's blog:

Hieratikon - The Paschal Homily of St. John Chrysostom

If anyone is devout and a lover of God, let them enjoy this beautiful and radiant festival.

If anyone is a grateful servant, let them, rejoicing, enter into the joy of his Lord.

If anyone has wearied themselves in fasting, let them now receive recompense.

If anyone has labored from the first hour, let them today receive the just reward.

If anyone has come at the third hour, with thanksgiving let them feast.

If anyone has arrived at the sixth hour, let them have no misgivings; for they shall suffer no loss.

If anyone has delayed until the ninth hour, let them draw near without hesitation.

If anyone has arrived even at the eleventh hour, let them not fear on account of tardiness.

For the Master is gracious and receives the last even as the first; he gives rest to him that comes at the eleventh hour, just as to him who has labored from the first.

He has mercy upon the last and cares for the first; to the one he gives, and to the other he is gracious.

He both honors the work and praises the intention.

Enter all of you, therefore, into the joy of our Lord, and, whether first or last, receive your reward.

O rich and poor, one with another, dance for joy!

O you ascetics and you negligent, celebrate the day!

You that have fasted and you that have disregarded the fast, rejoice today!

The table is rich-laden; feast royally, all of you!

The calf is fatted; let no one go forth hungry!

Let all partake of the feast of faith. Let all receive the riches of goodness.

Let no one lament their poverty, for the universal kingdom has been revealed.

Let no one mourn their transgressions, for pardon has dawned from the grave.

Let no one fear death, for the Saviour's death has set us free.

He that was taken by death has annihilated it!

He descended into Hades and took Hades captive!

He embittered it when it tasted his flesh! And anticipating this Isaiah exclaimed: "Hades was embittered when it encountered thee in the lower regions".

It was embittered, for it was abolished!

It was embittered, for it was mocked!

It was embittered, for it was purged!

It was embittered, for it was despoiled!

It was embittered, for it was bound in chains!

It took a body and came upon God!

It took earth and encountered heaven!

It took what it saw but crumbled before what it had not seen!

O death, where is thy sting? O Hades, where is thy victory?

Christ is risen, and you are overthrown!

Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen!

Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice!

Christ is risen, and life reigns!

Christ is risen, and not one dead remains in a tomb!

For Christ, being raised from the dead, has become the first-fruits of them that slept.

To him be glory and might unto ages of ages. Amen.

6.17.10

hands lifted. i look out, serene, upon the vista of blakc, purple, gold an pale wine. the sunset--sunrise?--is beauteous, but another vision captures my attention--for i see, i see a great host descending from on high, and soon i know i will join their blessed number--those who have known what it it to become the god, to be his wine, to be his bread.

i raised my hands and the world pivoted. i shall return to this rocky outpost--this vista where th eworlds unfold and the skies roll back and the deep things of the world are exposed to my piercing gaze.

for though my legs tremble, my arms are of steel. and my heart, my mind, my loins--they are in accord, they fear not, and they look, greedily, for what is next.

6.16.10

come, thou blessed exhaustion.
come, thou thrice-blessed mindlessness.

come, thou trial!
for my flesh is now larger, greater--each atom further apart.
thy arrows, o fleshy world, pass through me. and i remain.

i stand! i have lifted up my sword, piercing nature, and have created an atoll of my will.
now, now it will get interesting.

(but pray for me. i am a fiery mountain, yet a white-washed, watery carcass.)

let it come. o mountain upon mountain upon mountain of cloud and rain. i fear you not.
i am the key-holder. and i shall write you out of existence. tempt me not.

stay! hold thy wrath. submit o clouds! be stilled o sea!

and i shall walk upon thee.

6.14.10

from out of cool earth i emerge. softer. full. refreshed.

but now. a battle shall take place.

i go down, through precious soil into the hundreds of miles of sheer rock foundation, down.

into the freedom of the inferno.

there i go and my servants with me.

and we are warmed, purified, fortified.

out i come. sound the trumpets.

6.10.10

in. down. across.

to all these i have been.

citadels great i have visited. i've left my mark.

o fabric of heaven! you are, like us, more 'naught' than fiber.

i see through your web into the all. i have brought back souvenirs.

we shall see what happens next.

6.8.10

if i as a crumbly leaf, brown and wrinkled, floated up into the skies and saw one hundred kingdoms, would i be more a king, or less a king, than i am now?

if i feared for the feeding of my family due to my ostentatious wealth and precarious political position, rather than for the usual reasons, would i be less a pauper?

if my tears fell because i had lost in a large wager at the club table, rather than, as now, because god's angels give me vision of thunder and scarlet, would i be less holy?

to live is to me a mystery like waters and sand.

6.7.10

Be not the ministers of Job! Else read me not.

For life on Terra is suffering, death, destruction, mouldering. At every turn we face obstacle, stone, chain and lash.

Yet, this is a gift, truly, for it raises our eyes to the heaven which is below.

Deep. In the earth under earth. Below valleys. Under wells. Beneath the bottom of the sea.

There, in those regions which lie not--unlike the sky so sweet, the roses keen and kisses passionate--there, in that place of dark and loam and worm and blessed stone, there, there is my god. there is my refuge. there is my peace and joy. for there, at the very precipice of fire and water, lies salvation, truth, enlightenment, annihilation.

and so i dig, groping, in this outer darkness, stars and moon obscured, to claw beneath the hardened soil of foolishness and hope, to the softness of the earthly bosom. sweet earth.

sweet earth. take me as your lover. though small, i am passionate.

6.7.10

my fortress of sand. the rumble of chariots not far off.

time to pack up the family, load the mules, leave, and quickly.

i and my house shall move from Ur, and we shall go to a new land. a new land.

there milk and honey shall flow.

but first, we must make it to the first oasis on our trek, well away from the old city, before the marauders come.

we leave at midnight. tonight.

6.4.10

on the mat of terror and peace.

two veils separate me from. him.

form. form! i say!

be collected from the four corners.
be collected from the skies.
be collected from the waters.
be collected from the earth.
be collected from under the earth.
then descend.

and touch me.