On Geomancy and Light

Those who follow me on Twitter know that I’ve been working on a new shrine project of sorts.  Earlier this year, I had the sudden kick-in-the-ass inspiration to start compiling things together, so I started pricing them on my wishlists and getting notes together.  I swore, up and down, that I would pay off my credit card before getting any of it.  But, yanno, just to see how much it would all cost when tallied up, I put it all into my online shopping cart to check out the shipping and taxes, and whoops there went $700 and suddenly I have all these packages showing up at my house however could this have happened let’s get to work, I guess my poor credit card statement.

Long story short, after I made that second post about geomantic holy days earlier this year, I got some sort of spirit all up in me that necessitated, demanded I put this thing together.  I ended up making a Shrine of the Geomancers, honoring the four Progenitors of the art Adam, Enoch, Hermes Trismegistus, and Daniel under the tutelage of Gabriel, with a notable Islamic influence.

I’ll save some of the details and what goes along with this whole shrine later, including a few things that aren’t shown in those above pictures, since it’s such a new thing that even I’m not sure why I have everything on it yet, just that I know I need it.  The last time an inspiring spirit this forceful came upon me was when I ended up writing my Sixteen Orisons of the Geomantic Figures in a single night (and then spent the next month editing and polishing), which you can take a look at in my ebook, Secreti Geomantici (also on Etsy!).  That was pretty fun, too, though exhausting.  I ended up making sixteen prayer-invocations to channel and work with the forces of the figures; that was just a night of power for me, as if I couldn’t shut off whatever fire hydrant of Words was turned on in my head.  The same thing happened with this shrine: I had to get these things and put them together.  Had to.

On top of getting this shrine put together, I’ve had to take a break from writing my geomancy book to take a detour into writing prayers, invocations, and incantations for geomantic practice.  Taking heavy inspiration from Islamic supplications and verses of the Qurʾān, the Book of Daniel, the Psalms, Solomonic and Hermetic literature, and other sources, I’ve been putting together a bunch of prayers—some that I wrote as original works, some I wrote a long time ago, some I’m heavily basing off other sources but tweaked for purpose and diction—for use with this shrine.  Many of the old prayers I wrote a while back, like my Prayer of the Itinerant or my Blessing of Light, fit right in with all these new ones.  It’s like so much of my previous routine, habits, and practices get tied into something so nice, so neat, so…oddly complete in this new shrine practice.  I honestly don’t know where this is all coming from, and it’s surprising me as much as it would anyone else.  If ever I would think that spirits can and do work through us, this would be one of those cases, absolutely.  There are still a lot of prayers I know for a fact I need to write and compile, but even with what I have, I’m pretty thrilled with what I have to work with.  It’s like stumbling on a new grimoire full of detailed instructions—except you don’t know for what, exactly.  It’s also happily convenient that I’m doing all these geomancy readings and follow-up divinations for the New Year, which gives me ample opportunity to try some of these very same prayers.

Now that the shrine is put together and all these prayers are coming together, I need to figure out exactly how to put this all to practice; after all, after dropping so much time and money and energy on this, there’s no way in hell I can just let this thing sit and gather dust (as if the same spirit that had me get all this together in the first place would let me).  I’ll work out routine and times and stuff later, but for now, it’s lovely.  As I noted above, there’s a heavy Islamic influence in this, and why not?  After all, geomancy is ultimately an Islamic occult art and science that arose in the sands of north Africa.  While I’m not going to be doing ṣalāt or proclaiming the five pillars of Islam, I feel it’s still important to honor the traditions and faiths of those that learned, taught, and spread the art of geomancy so far and wide in a language, or at least with symbols and practices, that would be familiar to them.  Which is also why I’m turning to so many supplications and verses of the Qurʾān for prayer inspirations, in addition to the fact that I already know that some such verses are used just for geomancy and divination generally.

One of the things I got for the shrine is a misbaḥah, a set of Islamic prayer beads.  It’s a lot simpler than a rosary, but slightly more complex than a mala; this has 99 beads, with two separators (that apparently aren’t used in counting prayers) to divide up the whole misbaḥah into three sets of 33 beads.  This kind of prayer beads can be used in any number of ways in Islamic devotions, not least the famous Tasbīḥ of Fāṭimah, and a way of kinda-sorta maybe-not-divination-per-se seeking guidance from Allah (istikhāra) can be done using misbaḥah, too, by focusing on the question for guidance and selecting two beads at random on the misbaḥah, and counting down until there are either only one or two beads left.  (The geomantic applications here are obvious.)  There are simpler ways, too, such as just intoning and focusing on one of the attributes or names of Allah, of which there are 99.

(Also, just as an entirely hilarious tangential aside?  This current post is marked as post #9999 in WordPress’ internal system for my blog.  So that’s a kinda fun synchronicity.)

One of the 99 names of Allah in Islam is النُّورُ (an-Nūr), literally “the Light”.  This is often used in the sense of being the Pure Light of the world, or the Prime Light of creation, or the One who Guides by Light.  It’s also especially associated with the Verse of the Light, a beautifully mystic verse taken from Qurʾān 24:35 (my own rendition):

God is the Light of the Heavens and the Earth.
The image of his Light is that of a niche.  In it is a lamp.
The lamp is within glass, the glass as if it were a brilliant star.
Lit from the oil of a blessed olive tree, neither of the East nor of the West,
whose oil would almost glow on its own even if fire had not touched it.
Light upon Light!
God guides to his Light whom he wills.
God gives images to follow for his people.
God is All-Knowing of all things.

The use of “The Light” as a name of Allah (or, just, yanno, God, because they really are the same and so much of Arabic theology can be expressed beautifully in Hermeticism and vice versa) is meaningful to me, given how important divine light is in my own personal theology and magical practice, especially in my Hermetic work, given how Light can be thought of as a thing that allows the intelligible to be intelligible and the visible to be visible, as both light of Nous (Mind) and light of Logos (Word).  Even my own magical motto, Lautitia Laborum Lucis Laetor “I rejoice in the splendor of the works of the Light”, is based on this same idea, and many of my more meaningful prayers incorporate Light in some way, whether directly or by puns, like in my Prayer of the Itinerant:

Shed your light on my path that I may see where I go.
Lighten the burden on my shoulders that I may go without hesitation.
Enlighten my heart that I may go with fortitude, courage, and wisdom wherever I may be.

Even before having encountered this Islamic sense of the notion, Light has already been and continues to be for me a powerful force unto itself, and a pure one that is directly associated in my mind and cosmological models with the highest divinity and source of all that is.

Then we bring in a bit of numerology.  Normally, I don’t take numerology particularly seriously; sure, gematria and isopsephia are nice tools to have, and I’ve experimented with it in some classical systems before now and again, but it’s largely a curiosity for me to find other connections with.  But take a look at the name an-Nūr more closely; the “an-” (really “al-” but Arabic rules assimilate the sounds) is just an article, so the real word to look at is Nūr, Light.  In Arabic numerology (which follows the same principles as Hebrew and Greek, since they all come from the same written language to begin with), the value of Nūr is 256.

Those who are familiar with binary mathematics and geomancy should be slapping your heads right about now.  256 = 16 × 16, the total number of pairwise combinations of geomantic figures with each other.  But even then, if we were to reduce it further, 2 + 5 + 6 = 13, and 1 + 3 = 4; alternatively, 256 % 9 = 4.  Four is also a huge number for us, there being four elements, four rows in a geomantic figure, four Mothers/Daughters/Nieces/Court figures, and so forth.  I don’t really need to expound on the myriad meanings of the number 4, given its importance in Hermetic, Pythagorean, and other systems of the occult.  Taking it a bit further as a letter-numeral, 4 is represented by the Hebrew Dālet, Arabic Dāl, and Greek Delta.  Its original meaning and form likely indicated “door”; in stoicheia, I principally associate Delta with the zodiacal sign Gemini, but it can also refer to the element of Water and the zodiacal sign of Cancer in other systems.  I also note that the Arabic Dāl is also the letter used to represent the element of Water in the Dā`irah-e-BZDḤ and Dā`irah-e-ABDḤ organizing systems of the figures, the former of which I’ve put to use in my geomantic energy working as being an Arabic-inspired seed syllable for Water.  Four is, also, the number associated with the sephirah Chesed on the Tree of Life, given to the planetary sphere of Jupiter.

On top of that, although the usual word for “light” in Hebrew is or (אור), the word nur (נור) using the same exact letters as in Arabic, and thus with the same exact numerology, refers to things that flare, flash, fire, or shine; this is an old Semitic triliteral root N-W-R that means light, illumination, and shining.  So that’s also really neat.  This word can also be associated with Hebrew ner (נר) meaning “candle”; “candle” is one of the names and images for the figure Via in some lineages of geomancy according to JMG and Skinner, and Via is sometimes considered to be the oldest or most important and powerful of the geomantic figures, as it contains all of the four elements active and present within itself as a complete whole.

Keeping with Hebrew numerology a bit longer, if we wanted to associate the usual Hebrew word for light numerologically, consider that or (אור) has a value of 207.  256 – 207 = 49, and 49 = 7 × 7, the total number of pairwise combinations of the seven planets as well as just being 7² and important for its own sake; that’s a fun connection, if not a bit contrived.  I also note that 256 is the same value as “spirit of the mother” (רוח אמא, ruach ima), which is important to recognize given that the first four figures we make are called the Mothers and are ungenerated from any other figure in the geomantic process.  It’s also the same value of the words B’nei Tzedeq (בני צדק), or “Sons of the Righteous”; in addition to being a popular name for Jewish synagogues and temples, it’s also a term used by the authors of the Dead Sea Scrolls to refer to the good and devout portion of humanity (including/especially themselves), as opposed to the B’nei `Avel (בני עול), the “Sons of Iniquity”.  Besides the Qumran connection, if there were ever a choir of angels to be associated with geomancy or if we ever wanted a good Hebrew euphemism to refer to geomancers, I suppose B’nei Tzedeq would be a good start.  Plus, Tzedeq is also the Hebrew name for the planet Jupiter, hearkening back to the numerological connection with Chesed above.

I also, somewhat regrettably and hilariously, note that 256 is the numerology of the name Viagrahel, the angel of Viagra, for which I will never thank/blame Kalagni of Blue Flame Magick enough.  (I’m as shocked as you are that that, of all things, would come back to bite me in the ass after almost seven goddamn years.  It’s like my life is one big Chekhov’s dildo.)

What about Greek?  There aren’t many words I can find that add up to 256, but there’s one big one I know of: ἀληθής (alēthēs), meaning “[that which is] unconcealed/true” but also with uses that encapsulate: real, unerring, actual, not forgetting, careful, honest.  The root of this word is –lēth-, which refers to forgetfulness (as in the mythological river of the underworld Lethe and also our modern word “lethargic”, referring to idle forgetfulness).  In that case, ἀληθής refers to things that are unconcealed, true, and honest by means of recovery from forgetfulness or by keeping forgetfulness and ignorance at bay, or alternatively, that which cannot escape notice or remain hidden.  All this ties into the actual Greek word (and, for that matter, goddess) for truth, ἀλήθεια (alētheia), too.  Even if I couldn’t find any other Greek numerological equivalent, I think this one is huge enough to make up for any others.

So where do we end up?  We have a particularly beautiful attribute of the divine, “the Light”, used in the worship and reverence of God in Islam, the religious culture in which geomancy historically developed.  To be extraordinarily terse, notions of divine light fill numerous religious and philosophical traditions as being representative of divinity, especially in any Western tradition influenced by Neoplatonism, Abrahamic faiths, or Hermeticism.  This can be further stretched through a bit of numerology, connecting the word for Light to words for fire, illumination, revelation, and truth.  Calling God “the Light” is a lot more than just thinking of that which allows us to see; God is, in a more complete sense of this attribute, the sudden and revealing flash of illumination that allows us to see that which is true and real, bringing it out of darkness, forgetfulness, and ignorance  God is the quiet, true Light behind all Fire, able to spread and open doors of wisdom to us, communicating to us on an intellectual and emotional level through our sense faculties.  This Light is not just a quiet flame in a dimmed lamp that barely illuminates the shelf it sits on, but it is a fierce, conquering, undeniable, unassailable blast into the darkness, a Light that completely destroys and wipes away anything that could or would try to cover it, a Light that breaks into the cracks of any door, window, wall, or mind and fills every niche, crevice, and corner with its presence.   It is the Light of God, or even the Light that is God, that allows the unseen to be seen, the hidden to be revealed, the unknown to be known, and the forgotten to be remembered.  God is not just Light, but the Light of Light, Light within Light, and Light upon Light.

More than that, this sacred Light of the Mind and of the Word can reach us at any place and at any time, but we can approach it too through the devout study of the mysteries of the geomantic figures, specifically in how they add up amongst themselves in their 256 different combinations.  This same illuminating Light is the fundamental impulse from which the first stirrings of knowledge can be made, and provide the seeds themselves from with the four Mothers in geomantic divination are formed, from whom the entire rest of the geomantic process can be derived.  The Light of God is the necessary existent in order for us to see and know things by geomancy.  Understanding the geomantic figures themselves to be representative of the actual combinations of the four elements amongst the elements in 4 × 4 = 16 ways, and the combinations of elements amongst themselves in 16 × 16 = 256 ways, all of the possible things that come to be in the world and all the ways in which they pass into being and pass out of being are also undergirded by the Light of God, being ways in which that same Light emanates from God into the world, condensing through the four elements from Fire to Air to Water to Earth, mixing and matching between all possible states.  All this is fundamentally Light.

I always felt that Light was important for me to focus on in a religious and spiritual sense.  It’s nice to see that all coming together in ways that the ancients themselves would appreciate, and in ways that show me new things in new combinations.  And, perhaps, to reinforce the habit of keeping a lit candle or lamp burning nearby when I do geomancy.

49 Days of Definitions: Part IX, Definition 4

This post is part of a series, “49 Days of Definitions”, discussing and explaining my thoughts and meditations on a set of aphorisms explaining crucial parts of Hermetic philosophy. These aphorisms, collectively titled the “Definitions from Hermes Trismegistus to Asclepius”, lay out the basics of Hermetic philosophy, the place of Man in the Cosmos, and all that stuff. It’s one of the first texts I studied as a Hermetic magician, and definitely what I would consider to be a foundational text. The Definitions consist of 49 short aphorisms broken down into ten sets, each of which is packed with knowledge both subtle and obvious, and each of which can be explained or expounded upon. While I don’t propose to offer the be-all end-all word on these Words, these might afford some people interested in the Definitions some food for thought, one aphorism per day.

Today, let’s discuss the thirty-ninth definition, part IX, number 4 of 7:

Soul’s illness: sadness and joy; soul’s passions: desire and opinion.  Bodies are silimar to souls when they are seen: none (is) ugly (if it is) good, none is evil (if it is) honest.  Everything is visible to one who has Nous; who(ever) thinks of himself in Nous knows himself and who(ever) knows himself knows everything.  Everything is within man.

The Definitions have been good in explaining things at a high level: where we came from, what our job is, the nature of God, and so forth.  Being short as it is, however, it doesn’t afford us many of the details to a lot of the questions it brings up.  This is how we have a traditions of philosophy that go back for two thousand years and analytic texts that help explain the core tenets of a religion and how things play out based on actual scripture which, almost always, doesn’t answer every question in full.  That’s often the point; what’s the point of describing the nature of God to someone who doesn’t know what God is?  The core texts exist to help get the proper footing needed to start learning and experiencing on our own.  Likewise, with the Definitions, we’re not told much about some of the things that we may want to know.  For instance, consider the soul: we know that all moving things have souls and that Man’s soul is different from other types of soul.  We know the high-level bare-bones theory of the soul, but we haven’t talked much about the nitty-gritty details of soul.  While we don’t (and can’t) know everything from a simple single text, we can get a basic grasp of it from learning and reasonable speech, which the Definitions provide us.  And this short definition has quite a lot to unpack.

Here, we learn that the soul isn’t something immutable: it has illnesses and passions.  Illnesses, broadly speaking, are temporary conditions where something is afflicted and cannot function properly.  For instance, a cold or catching the flu are illnesses, where the body’s immune system is compromised and several parts of the body go out of whack for a short while.  Some illnesses don’t affect us much and are as quickly lost as they were caught; some have a sudden onset and kill us; some linger around forever waiting for an opportunity to strike in tandem with something else to kill us.  Passions, on the other hand, are strongly felt emotions or mental states that drive us to action; the root word for this in English comes from Latin meaning “to suffer”, while the Greek means “feeling”, “suffering”, or “what befalls to one”.  Passions change us, drive us, and steer us to certain actions that normally might not be taken.  The difference between illnesses and passions is that illnesses affect someone from the outside; they’re never caught in isolation (I’m referring only to the common sense of communicable diseases, not genetic or other “natural” diseases).  Passions, however, arise from within.  If we restrict the meaning of “illness” to communicable diseases, passions might be associated with genetic disorders or other internal states such as heat, hunger, or fatigue.

We now know that the soul has two illnesses, “sadness and joy”, which arise from external causes.  The soul doesn’t make itself sad or happy, but gets the causes for these things from outside itself: the body, things that happen to the body or soul, and other external events or entities.  Likewise, the soul has two passions, “desire and opinion”, which arise from internal causes.  The soul creates these or are predisposed to these things on its own; we don’t directly get desires or opinions from outside ourselves, but come up with them on our own.  Of course, the two are connected; emotions (“illnesses”) can provide the impetus for passions, such as finding something that makes us happy and us leading to believe that we should get more of it.  Likewise, passions can help produce emotions once effected, such as desiring something that we cannot obtain, the lack of which makes us sad.

The illnesses and passions of the soul, though different and arising from different sources, are intertwined in a complex way.  Both, however, afflict the soul.  A healthy soul free of illness would be free from sadness or joy, and a calm soul free of passions would be free from desire and opinion.  Of course, no soul in a body can be properly free of these things; these are all qualities, and a soul gains “quality and quantity as well as good and evil” when it gains a body, “for matter brings about such things” (VII.4).  These things cloud the judgment, knowledge, and action of the soul, and so change the movement, function, and state of the body that it inhabits.  Because the soul would not have these things without a body, the body can be said to be the cause of both soul-illness and soul-passion, though it may not be the source for their’ arising.  Just as bodily illnesses prevent the body from acting the way it should, soul-illnesses prevent the soul from acting as it should.  Similarly, just as bodily passions drive the body to act in certain ways, soul-passions drive the soul to act in certain ways.  While all illnesses are to be avoided since they prevent action, not all passions are bad if they drive us to act a certain way; after all, it’s a good and healthy passion of the body to live and eat, and it’s a good and healthy passion of the soul to desire and know Nous (VII.3).  (The terminology here hints at Hermeticism’s influence from classical Stoicism, one of my favorite philosophies.)

Why are things like sadness and joy bad?  After all, while sadness might be seen as undesirable (note how a passion here comes into play!), we often find joy and happiness to be desirable and fun.  Keep in mind, however, that these are things that arise from external things, which are material in nature.  If we pursue the material for the sake of the material, or if we produce things that make us happy because they make us happy, then we’re effectively rising no higher than the material realm where these things exist.  If we pursue things for their own sake or for a proper opinion of them (as developed by Logos and Nous within ourselves), and if we become happy in the process, awesome, but that shouldn’t be the goal of our pursuit and only serves to distract us if we hold onto that feeling.  (I’m reminded of the Zen koan “if you meet the Buddha in the road, kill him”.)  It’s normal for us to be afflicted by sadness and joy as we go through the world doing our stuff, just as we’re accosted by germs and parasites and viruses every time we leave the house to go to work or the store.  We get these things that may make us sick in the course of doing something else; we don’t try to hold onto them, so that way we don’t get distracted from what we went outside our houses for.  If we become happy on the way to the grocer because we enjoy driving, we don’t keep driving for the sake of driving hoping that it continues to make us happy.  We drive to get to the store and we drive back, lest we run out of gas on the road and end up never going to the store or getting home.  Likewise, if we become happy or sad in the process of our Work, that’s just what happens to us; we should shrug it off naturally as the body sheds off illnesses naturally,

Opinions and desires, on the other hand, drive us to do different things based on what we consider.  These are things that arise up out of the soul from different intelligible causes; according to opinion, after all, many gods have come into being that are not God (VIII.1), yet, through unreasonable speech and opinions, are worshiped as ultimate divinity for spiritual or political reasons (VIII.3).  While the Nous dwelling within the soul provides a set of natural opinions and desires that would help us lead proper lives, we as humans are capable of choosing them or choosing other ones that can lead to God or to elsewhere (VIII.6).  Depending on what external stimuli we have, our opinions and desires are swayed both by them and by Nous, and depending on which tendencies to action are stronger, our bodies and selves are led to act in certain ways by our souls, which can produce more sets of external stimuli.  For instance, we desire to go to the store to get food to cook for the week, but we may be tempted by an immediate hunger and a carelessness of money and go to a fancy restaurant instead.  Likewise, we may desire to study magic or religion, but we can be persuaded by other people to study this tradition instead of that one or no tradition at all, or we can get tempted to use it more of a means to impress or socialize other people because we think it more helpful to us instead of studying it for its own sake as a means to gnosis.

Sadness and joy, the illnesses of the soul, happen to us and afflict us as they will; just as exposing ourselves to bodily illness largely can’t be avoided, so too do we expose ourselves to them, though we can take measures and caution to make sure they don’t affect us too much and prevent us from acting how we will.  Desires and opinions, however, are much more within our control, and how do we form these?  With deliberation and our use of reason and speech, which help to provide knowledge (V.2).  By this knowledge we come to understand the world around us, which helps to provide knowledge of God.  Thus, by even trying to know God as bodily beings, we expose ourselves to danger and affliction, but this is just part of being a material being with qualities, quantities, and “good and evil”.  We should choose good, but what is good?  Knowledge, which is God, which is Nous, which is light (IX.2).  When we have Nous and knowledge, we know things as they are (II.2), which produces desires and opinions that lead us to where we need to be.

Thus, when we truly see things, we know them as they are.  “Bodies are similar to souls when they are seen: none is ugly if it is good, none is evil if it is honest”.  We do not fear the things we know (IX.3), so we are not averted by them; thus, if things are good, we know them as they are and as part of God, and so they are not “ugly”, which would cause fear and aversion if we did not truly see them.  Similarly, if they are honest, they show themselves as they are, not hiding anything.  If something hides itself without honesty, it is a lie, which is a result of unreasonable speech; further, if it hides from light which is Nous, it clouds knowledge of itself and produces darkness, the absence of light.  These things are then “evil”, since they prevent knowledge from being obtained.  These things hide, and hiding is caused by fear (IX.3), which is caused by a lack of knowledge, which is ignorance, which is evil (VII.5).  We can draw several comparisons here:

  • Things that are good are not ugly (causing attraction)
  • Things that are good are honest (truth)
  • Things that are evil are ugly (causing aversion)
  • Things that are evil are not honest (lies)
  • Things that are ugly are not honest
  • Things that are honest are not ugly

With light, one can see; with knowledge, nothing is hidden (V.2).  Nous is knowledge; thus, “everything is visible to one who has Nous”, since Nous sees all things (V.1).  Further, since one’s self is within Nous as everything is, “whoever thinks of himself in Nous knows himself and whoever knows himself knows everything” (cf. the Delphic maxim “know thyself”). Everything is within God, which is Nous.  If we know ourselves, we know God, and if we know ourselves, we know everything.  Thus, this definition finishes with a powerful statement: “everything is within man”.  We’ve seen references to this before: “man is a small world…a perfect world whose magnitude does not exceed…the world” (I.4);”God is within himself, the world is in God, and man in the world” (VII.5).  We are a microcosm, a reflection of the world as well as of God, and if we know one part of the Whole, we come to know the Whole, so if we come to know ourselves, we come to know the Whole, which is everything.  Everything is within us.

49 Days of Definitions: Part VIII, Definition 5

This post is part of a series, “49 Days of Definitions”, discussing and explaining my thoughts and meditations on a set of aphorisms explaining crucial parts of Hermetic philosophy. These aphorisms, collectively titled the “Definitions from Hermes Trismegistus to Asclepius”, lay out the basics of Hermetic philosophy, the place of Man in the Cosmos, and all that stuff. It’s one of the first texts I studied as a Hermetic magician, and definitely what I would consider to be a foundational text. The Definitions consist of 49 short aphorisms broken down into ten sets, each of which is packed with knowledge both subtle and obvious, and each of which can be explained or expounded upon. While I don’t propose to offer the be-all end-all word on these Words, these might afford some people interested in the Definitions some food for thought, one aphorism per day.

Today, let’s discuss the thirty-third definition, part VIII, number 5 of 7:

Nature is the mirror of truth; the latter is at once the body of the incorporeal (things) and the light of the invisible.  The generous nature of this (world) teaches all (the beings).  If it seems to you that nothing is a vain work, you will find the work and the craftsman, if it seems to you (like) a mockery, you will be mocked at.

We’ve been having a hard time defining the word “nature” in a Hermetic sense since it popped up a few definitions ago.  There, we read that “nature is everyone of the beings of this world” or that “every being in this world has a nature”, and also that “the body increases and reaches perfection due to nature”.  But what is nature?  Nature is the whole of increase and decrease, the four elements, sense and vision, and all the bodies here.  Nature is the restrictions, capacities, and abilities that we have.  Nature is, in effect, everything that sensibly exists and each of their qualities along with it.  Nature is, in a way, fate and destiny.

But beyond all that, in this definition we get an actual explanation, or about as much as one as we’re likely to get: nature is “the mirror of truth”.  Nature reflects true things.  It is not itself true things, but it shows them to those who look and observe.  Consider your reflection in a mirror: the mirror is not you, but it shows how you are.  It shows your form, your age, your condition; it shows you.  Likewise, nature shows all these things, but it is not these things on its own.  Nature is a reflection, a microcosm of something greater, and what’s greater than the cosmos we find ourselves in?  God is bigger than the world, after all; is God truth?  (Well, duh.)  What is truth?  Truth is “the body of the incorporeal and the light of the invisible”.  These statements must be meant metaphorically, because they on their own don’t make sense.

  • What are bodies?  Bodies are corporeal masses, things with form and length and breadth and depth, things with “quality and quantity” (VII.4).  These things do not belong to incorporeal things, since quality and quantity are sensible just as bodies are.  The solely intelligible, however, are without bodies, and as such cannot be sensed.  However, they can be known.  They have some sort of substance, but it is not material substance.  The concepts, the words, the knowledge itself has a form, and that form is the “body” of the incorporeal.  What they are is truth; a truth is something intelligible that exists.
  • What is light?  Light is “a clear vision which makes appear all of the visible things” (II.6).  However, the invisible cannot be seen, so light does it no good.  However, light can be used to see visible things in the darkness, clearing away ignorance of the physical world around ourselves.  Likewise, truth can be used in the same way to know the invisible things in ignorance.  Truth is the means by which we come to know the things that are invisible without seeing them.

Nature, then, is the reflection of things that are.  Nature is the material, corporeal result of the intelligible and incorporeal; just as software code is the reflection of its design, or a constructed building the reflection of its blueprints, nature is the reflection of truth.  If what is intelligible is truth, then God is also truth.

Just as “whatever God does, he does it for man” is a truth (VIII.2), so too does the world reflect that: “the generous nature of this world teaches all the beings”.  If perfection of the soul is knowledge of the beings (VI.3), and it is our soul’s directive to come to know God by knowing all the beings (VII.3, VIII.4), then the world exists to help us do that.  The soul works within the body to learn; the world offers itself to learn from.  Again, “man’s possession is the world” (VI.1), so it would almost (maybe not quite?) be tautological to say that it’s for our benefit.  Further, Man’s job is to experience the entire world in all its parts for the benefit of the soul and body (VII.2), so we must fully experience and learn from the world in all that it has to teach us and offer us.  Every part of the world is necessary to experience and know for ourselves to be perfected in body, soul, and Nous.  Add to it, if we make use of the Hermetic maxim “as above, so below”, then we might also say that because everything God does is for Man, then everything the World does is also for Man, since the World is a microcosm reflecting the macrocosmic God.  This makes sense because “nature is the mirror of truth”, so whatever is done above is done below; that which is below represents, reflects, and indicates that which is above; if the nature of God is to act for Man, then the nature of the world is to do the same, as is the nature of Man (which gives the actions of Man a dual meaning here, both for himself as well as for soul/soul-Nous/God).

Since nothing God does is not for Man, then nothing the World is or does is not for Man.  Thus, nothing is made, done, or created in vain; this is similar to the statement in VI.1, where “if there were nobody to see [the world], what would be seen would not even exist”.  All things exist for a purpose and that is to act by God within God for Man and God.  Further, by properly seeking to learn what the world generously teaches us, we come to fully experience the world, perfecting our bodies and our souls in the process, coming to the perfection of the soul, which is the knowledge of beings as well as of God.  Thus, “if it seems to you that nothing is a vain work, you will find the work and the craftsman”, where the work is the body, soul, world, and beings and where the craftsman is God.  Neglecting this, however, yields the opposite result: “to you like a mockery, you will be mocked at”.  This is another thinly-veiled warning, much as from VI.3: “just as you will behave towards the soul when it is in this body, likewise it will behave towards you when it has gone out of the body”.

Clarity

So, my dream recall has been improving lately, but I seem to be waking up between dreams for a brief while.  It’s interesting; either I really do wake up just enough to be aware that I’m in my bed and just had a dream, or I’m just conscious enough to be half-asleep.  Either way, it’s helping my dream recall, and lately I’ve been entering states of semi-lucidity: one dream recently had me intentionally toying around with my apparently-retractable beard, and another where I was trying to figure out the maximum size for a Solomonic circle I could fit into my apartment (I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently, so it’s nice I could handle this on my downtime).  Hopefully I can keep progressing, because this is getting really exciting.  I’ve wanted to be able to lucid dream for years and years now and have never been able to achieve one.

That’s not the point of this post though.  A friend from high school and I have recently been chatting on Facebook, and she’s doing (mostly) well.  I recall her having a distinct neopagan streak back in those days, but it turns out she was raised in a pretty Christian household and maintains her faith in that.  Of course, she’s definitely still got that neopagan streak and a psychic side, and she’s been having issues reconciling her religion and her faith.  It’s a shame, really, when this happens to people: they find something that actually works for them and gives them meaning, purpose, joy, etc., but then some outside institution claiming to know what’s best for them says “NO, bad bad bad”.  They get chained up in things and eventually lose their mojo and strength, even though they’re told that this other way is the proper and best way, and things just kinda suck for them.

I’ve got two analogies for you, dear reader.  The first is lifted from a Buddhist tale.  An old, poor widow in Tibet wanted to know how to become more pious, so she asked a local mendicant monk before he left town what to do.  He said that she should say a certain mantra 108 times every day.  Normally, counting mantras is done on a mala (a string of prayer beads), but being poor, she couldn’t afford one.  So she got out two bowls, filled one with 108 beans, and moved a bean from one bowl to the other for every mantra said.  She did this for many years, until eventually the beans moved on their own accord; she was able to say the mantras with such devotion that she could focus more on them than the beans.  Eventually, a monastery was build near the town where she lived, and the head abbot went around from door to door meeting the townsfolk.  He heard about what this woman was doing, and came to see her chant.  He immediately stopped her and said that she’s chanting the mantra all wrong and mangling the pronunciation.  She tried again using the “proper” pronunciation, but the beans never moved on their own again.

As Crowley said, “let success be they proof”.  If something is “wrong” but it works, clearly there’s some truth in it.  Why it works is important, sure, just as how it works, but if it works at all, then that’s what really counts.  The whys and hows of things can always be investigated, but if you’re investigating something that doesn’t work, there’s not much point in doing it.  The old woman for years chanted a potentially-mangled mantra, and sure, it wasn’t how the teachings prescribed it.  But it worked.  She was able to attain that devotion, that single-mindedness, that clarity using it all the same.  Then some dude came along and told her that she was wrong, and she lost it.  She wasn’t allowed to do what works for her, and she became bogged down by it.

For my second analogy, imagine, if you will, a medical doctor.  They’re extensively trained in how humans work, how diseases work, and how medicine works.  They’re, in many senses of the word, experts.  When a patient comes up to them asking for help with a particular disease, the doctor will know generally what’s going on and may follow a set regimen for the patient.  However, they also know that they can’t apply the same regimen for all patients with the same problem; each patient is an entirely different system, with different environments, diets, activities, temperaments, dispositions, and lifestyles.  Saying that there’s only one cure for all patients with any given problem is reckless, because the doctor isn’t taking into account the unique needs of each patient.  So the doctor has to work with the patient and figure out the best regimen, even if mostly follows the rule, so that each patient can achieve the best results.  You see this especially so when dealing with antidepressants and other mind-altering drugs: what helps one person with no side effects for one thing can have disastrous consequences for another person.

Why should souls and faith be any different?  Everybody’s unique, and we’re only the same when we’re at the Source (since we’re also all One).  Every body, every mind, every spirit, and every soul is unique and different.  Everybody, then, has their best way, their own way, to enlightenment and truth.  Sure, we may all be incredibly similar in many aspects, but it’s the tiny differences that can make all the difference.  For me, traditional religion won’t cut it; for my missionary aunt, they do.  For me, conjurations are a neat way to get truth about matters; for my friend mentioned above, they’re highly discouraged by her spirit guides.  For me, philosophy and the occult help define my universe; for some of my other friends, hard cold science does.  So long as truth is sought out in the ways best for each person, whatever it entails, you’re on the right path.  If it works, keep it up.  Let nobody tell you otherwise.