The experience of the abyss can be quite frightening and
uncomfortable. Like being
extremely excited one day just before opening the front door to go to
work. Clearly visualizing each
step in the process: open the door, walk outside, lock door, walk to car,
unlock car, start car, drive to work.
Clearly seeing the outside before you open the door: the sky is blue,
the grass green, the wind gentle, the sun shining.
When you open the door and step through everything goes
wrong. The sky is black and
bleeding, the grass looks like grasping fingers sprouting out of the ground and
the sun plummets toward the earth like an old God dying. Your simple mechanical actions are
exceedingly difficult to accomplish, there are noises all around that some part
of your brain informs you indicate your crossing into an overlap between what
you know and some horrible hell that is unimaginably terrifying.
What some part of you understands as peals of laughter and
joy sound like screams of agony as they reverberate into your ears.
Congratulations!
You made it to the abyss! Everything
you thought you knew disappeared and was replaced by something seemingly very sinister,
isn’t that wonderful? Your brain struggles to reassess reality, all of the signals
it ignored because your perception was gradually simplified and symbolized are
now vivid and at the forefront.
See for the first time!
Experience your very own disintegration!
Can you put yourself back together? Here in this war room, cold, wet and
naked on the metal floor, a galaxy of red flashing buttons and loud sirens being emitted from the
console which covers all four walls and the ceiling, no manual for how to
operate the damned thing.
All the old scripts have been torn apart, and next to you
the great heap of dust opens its toothsome maw. Choronzon feeds well.
In this game he plays the role of torturer/devourer.
The abyssal experience, critical to any type of magickal development, represents the
opportunity to completely rebuild from scratch. Carry your wherewithal with you into the abyss and you can
feed Choronzon any habit, circuitry or program that limits you. Emerge victorious or descend into permanent
madness, the choice rests with you and your preparation. The ego removed, what rebuilds?
At the threshold you can cling to the self, but through the
door, it goes. The less you cling,
the less painful the transition will be.
No self anywhere, no self anyway.
Currently I approach chapel perilous. The liminal space where it becomes
harder and harder to tell if life receives influence from some supernatural
entity, whether what I perceive happens anywhere outside of my own twisted
imagination. The door at the other
end of the chapel leads to the abyss.
I’m on my way.
Often our limits lie somewhere in the periphery,
imperceptibly. We like to believe
we have no limits, but it takes some thought to understand what that
means. I was born into a certain
social habitus, this habitus limits me by making it exceedingly difficult to
truly understand people of different circumstances, by practicing dissolution
of these, most obvious limits, the territory opens up, an influx of new
meta-awareness occurs. Other
limits involve beliefs I have built, structures surrounding my ego, what I’m
proud of, what I consider myself.
The Mayan gods blinded the first men because they could see
in all directions from their lookouts, this made man conspicuously powerful,
like gods. I can’t help but see a
relationship between this broadening and widening of the personality into an
almost impersonality on the one hand and this classical Mayan definition of
power through perception on the other.
The experiment for widening the mesh I take directly from
Crowley. Quite simply: for 7 days
do not refer to your ‘self’ with the pronoun I or me. Remove your own ego from regular conversation. Crowley would cut his arm with a razor
everytime he caught himself using these damnable pronouns, I’ll settle for
Wilson’s method of biting my thumb.
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