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I will, instead, jump to the quiet moments a few hours after that eternal day in the desert. We managed to drive safely back to Costa Mesa late in the afternoon. It was there, sitting on the most comfortable barstool in the universe, my acid-soaked brain still soaring through the rarefied clouds of Technicolor consciousness, that I realized I would be incapable of safely controlling the awesome and terrible nuclear fusion of consciousness that was taking place in my cranium. I started to see the big picture. If I were to continue my incarnational adventure, I would need something, someone, to ground me, to anchor me, to hold my feet to the ground before I exploded spectacularly but prematurely on the launch pad of life.

I needed a Nebraska woman. I had dated Constance on and off during our junior and senior years of high school in Nebraska, and when I returned to California we kept in touch by old-fashioned letters. We were friends. She liked my progressive politics. I liked her hair. But now I could not imagine a future without her. Perched high upon the oracular tripod of my psychedelic barstool, I saw the future set in stone, as fixed and immutable as the past. I called her from the payphone near the pinball machine and proposed marriage.

But, like a traditional Hindu couple whose parents sealed the marriage contract when they were babies, we dutifully surrendered to our destinies then and there. Neither one of us can tell you exactly why. Do we love each other? Yes, of course we love each other. Are we happy?

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Each individual in this world, whether married or single, is responsible for his or her own condition of happiness or unhappiness. What does all this have to do with homemade magick? My answer is simple. The edifice of my life—my home, my work, my magick—is built upon a foundation that is the love, the support, the opposition, the criticism, the irritation, the wisdom, and the ruthless condemnation of this Nebraska maid.

Constance is a supernatural force of nature—an awesome and terrible magical being, a goddess, a devil, an angel, a harpy, a demon. She is also the archetypal wife, mother, and grandmother, but greater than all these things she is her own unique universe. She is, in every relevant sense of the term, a living saint. Any envy you might feel for me and my extraordinarily good matrimo3.

Constance and I took no vows to each other during our homemade wedding ceremony of so long ago. We promised each other nothing. Nonetheless, for over forty-seven years, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, this Nebraska maid has been and remains the home in my homemade magick. Doing magick is not what magick is about. The goal in magick is to be a magician.

Of course, a person can be formally trained or at least educated in one or more of the classic magical systems, such as qabalistic, Wiccan, Druidic, Native American, Solomonic, Enochian, etc. One might even be lucky enough to be privately tutored by an experienced and illuminated magical adept. But as magicians—indeed, as human beings—we have only one universe in which to work, and only one universe with which to work. That universe is ourselves. No matter what your circumstances may be, when it comes time to perform real magick, your magick can only be executed by, for, and through the agency of you alone.

The most I can hope to accomplish in writing a book of this nature is to share a few scattered accounts of my own life and magical career and encourage you to consider how my experiences might best be translated and applied to the unique circumstances of your own life. To that end, I think it would be helpful if I started by giving you a quick review of my background and current magical milieu. I was born on July 11, , in Long Beach, California. I became a professional musician at the age of fourteen and made my living as a songwriter and recording artist through my mid-twenties.

I have been married to Constance since We have one son, JeanPaul, who is a university professor in Japan. I speak English and only the tiniest fragments of French and Spanish. This means that my entire education, magical and otherwise, has been acquired from texts written in or translated into the English language. I quit college I was pretending to be a drama major after only one year and studied acting for a short time at the Lee Strasberg Theatre and Film Institute in Hollywood.

I hold no academic degrees. From to , I studied via correspondence-course instruction aspects of the Western mystery traditions, through the Rosicrucian. Grady had received O. The McMurtrys, in turn, introduced me to Francis Israel Regardie, former secretary to Crowley and a celebrated occult author in his own right. In I was passed into the next degree in O.

Smith former O. Parsons had been an eminent rocket scientist, a developer of jet-powered take-off and solid rocket fuel. In I was appointed U. National Deputy Grand Master of O. At the time of my active membership, it was headquartered in San Jose, California. In January of , the DuQuette family played host to the head of the O. McMurtry —at our home in Costa Mesa, California.

This picture was snapped just prior to Grady signing our lodge charter and officiating at our first round of initiations. We have always run the lodge out of our home, and remain the oldest continually operating O. Constance was initiated Minerval in the backyard of the same Dublin residence a few months later.

Twelve years after this picture was taken, Constance and I had the pleasure of initiating our son, Jean-Paul pictured here at the age of five , on the occasion of his eighteenth birthday in the backyard of our home in Costa Mesa. Throughout the years I have supported myself and my family in a number of ways.

In Constance and I initiated Dr. Christopher S. Hyatt into our O. So there you have it. In the last forty years, my homemade magical career has included a lot of work with various spiritual disciplines and systems, instructors, and magical orders. I will be the first to admit that I have been very lucky, and my experiences are most likely very different from your own. But you would be gravely mistaken if you believed that because my life and background are in some ways different from yours, it means you are somehow at a disadvantage in your work as a magician.

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To be a magician, you do not need to be the personal student of an adept, and you do not need to belong to any magical order or society. You are and always will be your own universe. You are a homemade magick school with one teacher and one student. You are an entire mystic order of one. And even if someday you happen to come under the tutelage of some great master, even if you join and become an adept of a powerful occult order, you will still be facing exactly the same obstacles and challenges you are facing right now; you will still be required to do all the magick yourself; you will remain forever a solitary practitioner.

If other people are healed or gain a level of enlightenment as a 8. We called our band Charley D. But ultimately you are a solo act; and your temple, your workshop, your laboratory, and your universe are your own body, your own brain, your own soul. The only thing the magician can actually change with magick is the magician.

Magick is a process—a step-by-step journey of self-directed, selfwilled personal evolution. That process must take place within the context of whatever opportunities, liabilities, assets, obstacles, restrictions, and fortunes good or ill your life circumstances have given you and those that you make for yourself. You might be single or married, or your relationship status might be complicated.

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You might have children. You might have a corporate or professional job, or you might be an artist or a musician. You might be employed, unemployed, or retired. You might be independently wealthy or a penniless ascetic. You might be socially and politically conservative or liberal. Whatever your situation, once you realize you are a magician, it will be impossible for you to remove the magick from any aspect of your existence. What you do for a living will no longer be just a job, it will be a magick job.

Your relationships will be with magical beings. Your hobbies will be magick, and your love life will be magick. Your likes, dislikes, fears, dreams, ambitions, and even shortcomings and vices will be magick. But in addition to that and even more importantly , I will try to offer you a few glimpses of how a magician interprets each and every seemingly mundane and un-magical event of everyday life as the magical adventure it truly is.

I hope that you will be able to somehow apply my examples to the unique circumstances of your own life. Your homemade magical adventure begins when you first wake up to the fact that you are quite literally asleep. We will all wake up eventually, but what differentiates magicians from our sleepy neighbors is that we are ready and willing to jump-start the waking-up process.

Let my journey begin!


The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice. This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Every journey has a destination, every journey has a path or paths to that destination, and every journey has obstacles and challenges along the way. For magicians, our destination is supreme enlightenment union and absolute integration with the Supreme Intelligence of the cosmos— complete identity with the universal consciousness.

The path is at least for a little while the magical arts and disciplines. The obstacles and challenges on the path are all our shortcomings, character flaws, vices, bad habits, fears, imbalances, misperceptions, and Before we can even discuss the destination or the path or the obstacles, however, we need to identify just who it is that will be taking this journey. We need a traveler, a sojourner, a hero, someone to experience the trip. The journey needs you. Who you are or who you think you are is vitally important. Allow me to digress for a moment. Constance and I were very young when we first started living together.

She was nineteen years old and I was eighteen. Admittedly, we were romantic and naive. But we were also spiritually audacious, and we delighted in our explorations of what were for us exotic foreign religions and cultures. We enjoyed fantasizing about our previous incarnations. We playfully identified ourselves as our own homemade mythological characters on a timeless quest.

We assumed whimsical Native American names Sleeping Bear and Smiling Squirrel—guess which one I was and speculated about medieval lives as court jester and scullery maid, or Mandarin lord and youngest wife. We hand-painted bizarre and patently offensive anti-Christmas cards and mailed them to our clueless and easily shocked relatives, and whenever possible we wore our new and colorful mystical opinions and personas on our sleeves.

They served to seriously establish and formulate our magical identities and train our imaginations. Constance and I were fortunate that our youth and silliness allowed us to fall quite naturally into the spirit of the game of magical self-identification.

For others, it might take a little more effort. Well, who are you? But think about it: the chances of you truly knowing yourself anytime soon are slim to none! Know thyself? Give me a break! There is no you to choose the destination, no you to find the path, no you to overcome the obstacles, no you for the magical universe to torture and delight and broaden and purify and perfect, no hook of a you upon which to hang the great adventure of your destiny.

You begin by first pretending you know who you are. Yes, like everything else in life, you are going to have to fake it till you make it! Sound silly?

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Sound irrational? Sound insane? Sound like cheating? In representations of the Buddha image, the right hand often makes an active mudra of skilful means—the earth-touching, protection, fearlessness, wish-granting or teaching mudra; while the left hand often remains in the passive mudra of meditative equipoise, resting in the lap and symbolising meditation on emptiness or wisdom. Yab-yum is generally understood to represent the primordial or mystical union of wisdom and compassion.

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia. Dichotomy between two opposing approaches to magic. For other uses, see Left-Hand Path disambiguation. Not to be confused with Vamachara or Dakshinachara. Main article: Vamachara. Occult portal.

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The History of British Magick after Crowley. Hidden Publishing. Weiser Books. Draconic Ritual Book 1st ed. Magan Publications. Qabalah, Qliphoth and Goetic Magic 2nd ed. Jacksonville, OR: Ajna. Sexual Magic. History of the Tantric Religion pp. Strange Conflict. The Satanic Bible. The Book of Lucifer 3: paragraph Archived from the original on Retrieved Flowers Ph. Buswell, Ed. LaVeyan Satanism. Lovecraft Edward Bernays H. Letters from the Devil The Satanic Scriptures. Book Format: Choose an option.

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