Wednesday, 14 December 2016

City of Aster

This year has been a knife-edge for me, and I’m still bleeding. I think many people can relate to this feeling. There have been moments during 2016 where I felt like I might be literally losing my mind, moments where I felt like I had to keep these new wounds closed through sheer force of will.  But I’m adapting to this new world I find myself in.  Although thresholds have clearly been crossed, collectively, although we’ve all been cast upon alien shores, I don’t believe we all came here from the same place.  We come from many different worlds, with many different perspectives, but we are all facing the unknown together now.  Everything is shifting and changing, even the Earth itself.  None of us – not even the psychics and visionaries and witches – have complete answers as to what lies ahead.  These are incredibly frightening and fertile times.

But what do I personally believe regarding this new world we find ourselves in?  I suppose I believe what I’ve always believed, that the veil is lifting. That the Light is slowly dawning, though now at a quickened pace. That might sound utterly ludicrous to many of you.  But it’s often darkest before dawn, as they say. Things may get darker before they get visibly brighter.  We are not out of the shadows yet, I think.  The War of Imagination rages on, as do the Magi who fight on the right side of that war.  But darkness and light are always strangely twinned within sentience. Knowledge of one invites awareness of the other.  I have been left stunned and reeling by what this year has brought me, but I have not lost my faith.  My faith is built on bedrock far stronger than anything the predator-elites and wraith-hordes can throw at me.  It’s comforting in a way, to be tested and to find yourself still standing, still radiating from the core of your star. 

We Magi are at work now, as we have always been.  I think you know what this work involves.  It involves the raising of a City of Living Fire; a fractal potentiality of magick, of creativity and compassion.  This place is crafted by artists and sorcerers who serve the true Aster of the Innermost.  There is no slavery in this holy place.  It is an imaginal realm we draw ever nearer through our workings.  It is a great working that can bend both time and space, a working far deeper and older than anything our oppressors can hope to imitate. Remember this, always.  You do not merely have the light and the spirit of this holy place within you.  You are this Light.  Call it down.     

City of Aster from Raj Sisodia on Vimeo.

Sunday, 4 December 2016

Here Among Monsters

We live with abuse, far too much of it.  Economic, social, sexual and spiritual.  And still we deny that we are ruled by things that care very little about us.  When you spend your life investigating human-trafficking networks and hellish corruption in high places, you tend to adopt a rather Gnostic worldview. Or at least I have.  I’ve seen monsters, human and otherwise.  I’ve seen people hurt other people of their own volition, and also through sinister, unseen inspirations.  This is nothing new or special or unique. Many psychics, sensitives and ritual magicians have seen these things too.  Truth, though vital, is often a terrifying thing.  But without truth, without integrity, we are merely prey.  Wishing the dark things away does not stop them from existing.  But we can arm ourselves with knowledge, with courage and kindness.  

For me, art is such a lifeline.  Amid Night Suns and the video-content I create here is an altar of sorts.  A place where I can send my intention and my magick not only into the world but into the deepest strata of my own consciousness.  The greatest battles we face are within. It might be a truism, but with good reason.  Healing from any kind of misfortune is difficult enough.  Attempting to heal from physical, sexual or spiritual abuse is like trying to process a cataclysm, like trying to mend a slaughtered star.  It’s the worst, heaviest, most estranging kind of darkness.  To be abused is to be made inhuman.  The kind of psychopathy that thrills at such things can never truly be understood by a rational human mind. Because it’s not truly ‘rational’.  It’s part of a larger, darker ecology.  But we resist these forces that wish to remove our dignity, our personhood.  We Magi have always resisted them.  We resist them in our words and deeds, our art and our magick.  People think art and culture means nothing in the face of slave-gods and rape-kings.  They fear that art is powerless in the face of evil.  But art and culture is the archive of everything we truly are, the archive of our souls.  Without it we are bereft.  Without this ability to create meaning, to call down the lightning, to traverse hidden realms, we are not even present in our own lives.  

That fire was stolen at great cost, a gem gifted to each of us.  It is the liminal essence of who you are, and the thing this multidimensional empire of abusers and archons fear the most.  Why? Because this flame has the power to heal the wounded and reanimate the slain.  This fire can restore the humanity that the monsters are so desperate to wrest from our grasp.