Sacred Magic - Awen and the Seal of Solomon

כ״א בכסלו תשע"ב
Shamash 23

My design of a two Celtic Druidic Awen symbols (one upward, one downward) which when brought together, form the mystical magical Seal of Solomon. Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Spirit, Goddess-Consciousness.

It is written in The Pillars of Tubal Cain [by Nigel Jackson and Michael Howard who posit that *Solomon's Temple was constructed as a Goddess Shrine*], "It is said that the temple [of Solomon] was not built by human hands because allegedly a mysterious worm or serpent-like creature called the Shamir carved out and cut the stones. Other stories say that Solomon enlisted supernatural help to build it in the form of elemental servitors he conjured using his powers as a magician."

Interestingly, about 15 years ago, I wrote a mystic poem about the *Shamir*. Like my earlier poems, this one also describes one of my preincarnate memories of truly magical, experiential consciousness.

SHAMIR, DI-VISIONS OF THE NIGHT

first rhythms ever plunge, eternal hosts driven into life
drawing through a field of topographic brilliance
where judgment lovingly flows, churning out whole stones
resting against asymmetries trying, like diamonds in chaos
proto-perception foams, over annihilating operations
and from it, dark bursts of lucidity finely entwine
coarse grains of almost something, almost yet sufficient
the silent rush of yet nothing slides, wildly as percolating pivots
diligently thread through it, casting clarity
upon myriads, hard pauses startle into vision
projecting arrays without mass, strings of confluency
impressing discovery, a shadowy tail-end lingers
between depths of opposite observation
iterating embraces of many meanings like quasi-quanta
gathering functions about the head and, and
spinning spectra, pushing forward, yearning toward home
not knowing, yet only knowing
as some featureless reach edging edges stretches out
the magnetic sweet dance
where divisions collapse like crystal caves
softly sprinkling the belly of the night divine
with bytes of thoughtbare kisses
extending the glorious field of apprehension

Shamir in the magical Hebrew alphabet is a word deriving from the root שמר which means generically to protect and to distance from danger. The root drawn out into a word specifically meaning "divisons of the night" is found in the ancient Hebrew sacred book of Exodus [14:24], where it is written "and it came to pass in the DIVISIONS OF THE NIGHT, that Deity looked forth ..." Consequently, taking all this together, we can easily see that SHAMIR indeed pertains Goddess consciousness and to the Creative Force of AWEN She bestows.

The Hebrew correspondence to Celtic AWEN is HASHRA'AH.

Related entry - Sacred Sorceress Soy Pillar Candle

Two Streams, One Winding Line Of Consciousness

כ"ז בטבת תשס"ח
Grael 28

This Shabbat, the black wax of my main ritual candle was cut quickly and completely down one side like a river cut into the wax (as the deep melted pool of wax drained from around the wick, see graphic, click to enlarge) to the candle holder (over 1-2 inches depending on the perspective of timeline) by the very high radically jumping and leaping flame connected to the wick’s fire. It happened so fast that I only noticed it as the melted black wax was already pouring down the side of my altar. The flame was so unusually high-jumping (I’d estimate it reached 6-9 inches at times), it was so furiously energetic, that I had put it out with a candle snuffer lest it reach over and catch fire the cloth which covered my crystal ball. After putting out the potential fire hazard, I stuck a fingertip into the melted, still warm but cooling, wax on the side of my altar cloth. I’m not sure why I did this. I just did it. I wanted to know the feel of the wax. What was the story it had to tell?

I read a bit of my new book, The Spirit Cord (whose esoteric disciplines I have begun to practice already), before going to sleep.

Following these things, Shabbat night I dreamt.

There was a pervasive catastrophe that devastated the area that included the city of Danville. The devastation bringing death concentrated east (tiferet) of Vermilion Street (which cuts through the center of the downtown business district in Danville). The raging torrent of a mighty river came with the devastating energy, flowing north (gevurah) to south (chesed) down Vermilion Street. Vermilion Street formed the “bed” (choshen mishpat) of the raging river which separated between the camp of life (located on the western side) and the camp of death (located on the eastern side).

Initially in the dream, my children and I lived on the eastern side where the death energy was beginning to concentrate. To escape it, we had to go west (yesod) and across the raging river. Unlike the Ba'al Shem Tov (who used a secret knowledge of Divine Names), I simply gathered up (enfolding involutionary stream) my children, who took the forms of a neutral colored slippery little earth-worm and a leather shoulder bag (like a Benjamin's bag) with a matching leather shoulder strap. I could easily and safely carry these forms with me across the raging river to safety. Before starting across the raging river, as I was about to tell the little earthworm form to get into a clear protective sandwich baggie (so it wouldn’t slip out of my grip as I carried it in the raging water), the little worm did it automatically as if it knew instinctively what it should do or what I was going to tell it. I had dipped the baggie into the river water so that it also contained a manageable amount of water to keep the worm wet and hydrated. As soon as I had done this and/or as I was doing it (simultaneously – tohu - yet distinctly in order - tikun) the worm entered into the clear baggie, which I carried in my hand. Similarly, the leather strapped-purse placed itself/was placed by me upon my shoulder.

Now my family and others who were walking with me toward safety stood together on the eastern bank of the raging river that was Vermilion Street, in the downtown business district. I was going to lead our little band across the raging river. I told everyone to walk carefully, not quickly, and to “feel out” each step each took “for him or herself” as they followed my footsteps across the raging river. They were to feel first before committing a foot to “stepping down” on the floor of the riverbed. The torrential churning current could wipe out the ground underwater and create a hole in the riverbed at any moment between individual steps. I explained, if a new hole arose, they were to take an alternate step than the one I took. "Don’t just step there because I did. See,” I said, feeling a new hole in the riverbed as I “felt” my own way as I started across, “here is a hole, and I am not stepping here (where my foot had originally been directed underneath the water and where those who followed could not see the redirection of my footstep in the churning water).” They indicated they understood. Carrying my children in easy-to-carry forms, one as a slippery worm in a river water-containing plastic baggie and two as the strap and bag of a leather purse, I continued through it, carefully feeling each step of the way. Many others followed my example across the raging river in one long winding single line (this is relevant to the purchase my besom yesterday morning, to the unbroken chain - mi'Sinai - of esoteric transmission, and to messianic consciousness) that extended from beyond the eastern (where death was concentrating in the dream) horizon behind me, across the river and onto the western shore.

I soon stepped centrally upon the western bank of the raging river to safety, as did all those behind me who had followed and were still (on the eastern side of the river) coming to join the “winding line” connected to a proven safe journey out of the camp of death and into the camp of life. I sat down for a moment to rest my aching (but not hurt) left hip muscle that had borne the primary portion of the burden of the workload of making it across.

As my children and I rested there, we “unwrapped” (unfolding evolutionary stream) ourselves in the atmosphere of safety on the western shore. I recognized an acquaintance (no form of any particular person I know in real life) sitting to the north of me who had also made it across the raging river. He appeared emotionally at a loss. Recognizing me as well, he got up from where he was sitting and walked over to me. He told me he had lost his family in the catastrophe and was alone. We reached out to one another simultaneously and placed our hands on the other’s opposite shoulders in a comforting gesture. Then, we leaned forward and touched our foreheads together, also a comforting gesture.

I woke up.

Shamir - דיVisions Of The Night

כ'ד בתשרי תשס"ח

Originally published on my musical website, Shamir - דיVisions Of The Night:

first rhythms ever plunge, eternal hosts driven into life
drawing through a field of topographic brilliance
where judgment lovingly flows, churning out whole stones
resting against asymmetries trying, like diamonds in chaos
proto-perception foams, over annihilating operations
and from it, dark bursts of lucidity finely entwine
coarse grains of almost something, almost yet sufficient
the silent rush of yet nothing slides, wildly as percolating pivots
diligently thread through it, casting clarity
upon myriads, hard pauses startle into vision
projecting arrays without mass, strings of confluency
impressing discovery, a shadowy tail-end lingers
between depths of opposite observation
iterating embraces of many meanings like quasi-quanta
gathering functions about the head and, and
spinning spectra, pushing forward, yearning toward home
not knowing, yet only knowing
as some featureless reach edging edges stretches out
the magnetic sweet dance
where divisions collapse like crystal caves
softly sprinkling the belly of the night divine
with bytes of thoughtbare kisses
extending the glorious field of apprehension


related entry: Crystal Caves

Shown Shamir

י"ג באב תשס"ז

I dreamt a many-faceted dream this morning.

In much of the dream, I was like a demon-buster. I was taken to places to drive out demons and send them back to their source (which I did). Yet, in the midst of all the action, there was one point where I was walking alone to some place, and as I walked, I came upon a huge worm-like living creature also "walking" alone and returning to its lair after doing whatever it had been doing in the world I found myself in.

The worm-like living creature was the shamir as described in midrash regarding Solomon. I knew it.

I was shown Shamir.

On the shamir, Immanuel Velikovsky writes:

The names of the twelve tribes were inscribed on the twelve semi-precious stones of the Urim and Tummim, the breastplate of the High Priest, not by carving, but by writing with a certain fluid and “showing” them to Shamir, or exposing them to its action. In the opinion of modern authors, the expression “was shown to Shamir”—“clearly shows it was the glance of a living being which effected the splitting of wood and stones.”2 It is admitted, however, that “in the Talmudic-Midrashic sources it is never explicitly stated that the Shamir was a living creature.”3

Indeed. In addition to dreaming this morning explicitly about the shamir, yesterday afternoon I received my witch's order which included the new spellcraft materials of aloeswood (used to intensify power of tikun-tohu blends) and a ritual candle for the upcoming Sabbat, Llughnasadh (initiating the harvest season, corresponding to "joy" as found in the final hei of the tetragrammaton). The Llughnasadh ritual candle contains within the top of the yellowgold wax a tiger eye stone, a stone of well-being. שלום

In addition to the tigereye stone I now have, on my altar is a green stone of abundance, transformation and healing, chrysoprase. שלום רב