Magick

https://farrellnick.substack.com/?r=6kbpe7 The Golden Dawn Sphere of Sensation (Part One) paid Nick Farrell examines the Golden Dawn teachings on the sphere of sensation and their practical applications. The Stars and Magic (Paid) Nick and Paola Farrell explore the significance of astrology in magic and its role as the missing link in many rituals. There is an example and a sample ritual. Can science prove magic? (Paid) Paola Farrell examines the limitations of the scientific method in encompassing magic theory, while also highlighting how some of the more recent scientific theories are closer to magic than traditional science. Samuel Mather’s Tarot Tango (Free) Nick Farrell While the Golden Dawn continued its associations with the Tarot card, Samuel Mather’s AO backflipped and returned to the traditional attribution of Justice and Strength. Dr Robert Felkin in Egypt (Free) In his search for a 6-5 and 7-4 initiation, the Stella Matutina chief, Dr Robert Felkin, visited Egypt and had two crucial visionary initiatory experiences, which ultimately became part of the higher grades. Nick Farrell provides the long unedited versions of these visions to look under the bonnet of Felkin’s later rituals. The Fire that Commands (Free) Paola Farrell explains how magic should be a system of domination, rather than submission to Gods. She argues that inner work that burns rather than soothes rarely gets airtime. But when it does, it tends to upset the comfortable and shake the spiritually sedated. It is time for a Geomancy renaissance (Free) Nick Farrell examines this forgotten yet important method of divination, arguing that it is time for it to join the ranks of Astrology and be revived for the modern age of magic.

The post Articles arriving on the Lord Manticore’s Occult Training Blog’s 8 October edition appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

After a long time thinking about it, I have decided to create a teaching publication which will be available by subscription. Unlike my regular blog posts, this Substack will feature articles on practical magic, ranging from PGM and the Golden Dawn to topics that I usually reserve for my books.

It will be updated once or twice a week and will be based on my research. It will be more practical than intellectual, and the Sub Stack set-up will give subscribers the chance to discuss their results with me and other subscribers.

People may wonder why I have gone ahead with this, as I have resisted the whole “internet only” form of magical training. I have spent my entire life teaching for free, but financially, that is no longer an option.

Book sales have dropped so drastically that I have concluded that no one is reading them any more. I used to joke that my books made me pizza money, but now they are so rare that they can no longer provide that. AI is replacing the work I have done for years. I have two skills: writing and magic, and I will have to use them.

Initially, I will write a few articles based on my own thoughts, but the goal will be to form a core of people interested in specific subjects that we can discuss, and for me to research and write about. Sub stack has a group format. I will also enlist the help of some friends to post material.

I am still working out the technology here, so we will see how it goes. You can visit the site by clicking on the link below. There are already this week’s stories up there.

The post Occult subscriber only teaching appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

When I was a born-again Christian, there was a movie which was dragged around the Youth Camps I attended, which was based on the concept that the rapture was a real thing.

The film A Thief in the Night had a song by Larry Norman, I Wish We Had All Been Ready, which every young Christian lad with a guitar had to learn to play if they ever hoped to attract the interest of young Christian girls who would never sleep with you. The flick was a rapture-based, B-grade horror film, and after it had been shown, frightened kids were invited to accept Jesus into their hearts.

If I sound snarky and cynical about this, it is because one of the reasons I packed in Christianity was because of the discovery that the whole rapture thing was a lie. I am not saying the return of Christ was a lie (it was an article of faith), but the specific idea of Jesus showing up and disappearing all his followers before the world went to hell in a handcart, as is apparently described in Revelation.

Cue the devout vanishing into the clouds while the rest of us dodge Antichrist, fireballs and probably a Nicolas Cage remake. It’s all very dramatic and a good way of getting out of the tricky question about whether Jesus is so loving, why would he put his followers through all that?

But this rapture nonsense is a theological latecomer, stitched together in the 19th century like a bad fanfic. The man behind the curtain was John Nelson Darby, an Anglo-Irish preacher who took one look at church history and thought, You know what this needs? Filing cabinets. He split history into “dispensations” and declared Christ would pop by twice. First, for a sneaky extraction of the godly. Then later for the loud bit with trumpets and judgement.

Darby may have pinched the idea from a Scottish teenager, Margaret MacDonald, who had a dramatic vision in 1830 about believers being hoovered up before divine wrath hit. Whether he borrowed her dream or just caught a whiff of the revivalist fumes, the fact remains. He turned a bit of ecstatic teenage mumbo jumbo into a theological house of cards.

Typically, people would have ignored this spin on Jesus’s story; after all, Christians had been expecting him to come back in their lifetime since Paul, and even if, like Godot, he never showed, it was forgivable, as he probably had a lot on his mind.

Enter the Scofield Reference Bible in 1909, which placed Darby’s fantasy in the margins and presented it as scripture. American Protestants, bless them, saw the footnotes and thought that settled it. Once Scofield had canonised Darby’s fever dream, it became “biblical” by default. Never mind the first 18 centuries of Christianity, which apparently missed the memo.

Fast forward and you’ve got pulp fiction bestsellers, preachy TV specials and apocalyptic cash grabs all singing from the same hymn sheet. A billion-dollar pop-theology industry founded on a lawyer-turned-preacher’s obsession with charts and a teenager’s sleepover vision.

The reason that it is so popular as a concept is that it means that not only do Christians have the prospect of a heavenly afterlife, but they can also escape the fearful prospect of death. Early Christians were bracing for one world-shattering event, not a cosmic Uber for people who consider themselves righteous.

What also makes the rapture concept useful is that more extreme Christian pastors can use it as another way to get their congregations to part with some cash.  After a pastor declared that God came to him and gave him yesterday’s date, we had Christians across the US flog off their cars and hand the cash to the church (which would have had a very short time to spend it). This ignored one of the few references to the return of Jesus that “no one knows the time of the return of the Son of Man” and “he will come like a thief in the night.” It is therefore logical that if someone tells you Jesus is coming back at a particular time, that is precisely when He will not show up.

However, the central reason I find rapture ideas so problematic is that they are designed to instil fear. There is enough shit in the world to be worried about; fear of being left behind in the rapture should not be one of them. One of the things that the Jesus story is supposed to be about is that you should not fear anything.

Then there is the awful truth that apparently is going to come back and collect those who reject his key teachings about love and forgiveness. Just because when Karens and other haters were ten, they said a little prayer asking him to forgive them for their sins, they feel they can create a system where their hate is enshrined. I somehow doubt that Jesus is going to sweep up a bunch of people to save them from the consequences that their hateful actions have brought the world such as voting for the anti-christ.

 

 

The post The rapture was never on the bloody menu yesterday appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

Some magical groups are little more than cults dressed up with rituals and secrecy. Vulnerable people are often drawn in, only to find themselves ensnared in manipulation and control.

If you believe you are too intelligent to fall for cult like behaviour, congratulations, you are precisely the sort of person who ends up in a cult. The Solar Temple cult, for example, was full of highly intelligent people who their leader nevertheless convinced to kill themselves to board a spaceship.

If your group ticks the following boxes, it’s time to leg it.

They recruit vulnerable individuals (who are often unaware of their vulnerability)

Group recruiters often target psychologically vulnerable individuals, offering a sense of identity, belonging, and stability. They emphasise the concept of being a family, providing the sort of stability that a person may have lacked growing up. This is hard to spot because cult-like orders spend a lot of time trying to get to know their marks so they know which sore spots to press. To the victims, this comes across as “being interested”, which is something they crave. People inside the group suddenly notice that the newcomers are a bit flaky, unaware that they have been selected because they can be controlled.

Love bombing

At the start, new members are smothered with affection, attention, and constant talk of “community” and “love.” Once someone is hooked, the flattery stops and his replaced by coercion. Because such groups play on vulnerable people (see point one), the group members become addicted to this love bombing and want it to continue. As a result, they end up doing anything for the leadership.

Social isolation

Fresh recruits are loaded with endless activities and rituals designed to consume all their free time. Mentors discourage outside relationships until the magical group becomes the only social circle. These do not have to be actual group meetings, but a requirement to do daily practices, often with the threat that the “spirits will be angry” if they are not carried out. The goal is not magical, but rather to prevent the member from coming into contact with others and to keep them at home.

Mind control and programming

With relentless meetings, indoctrination, and pressure, members find themselves mentally rewired. Daily life becomes dictated by the group’s rules and expectations. Most groups where this is played out use a mixture of threats (often of expulsion) and praise. It can play out with threats of violence (particularly against women) if the leadership lacks “good control” abilities. One of the best mind control techniques involves creating an imaginary threat against the group or its leadership. It consists in claiming that the group is being magically attacked (or undermined in other ways). This unifies the group around the leadership and assists in the isolation process. It becomes “us” against “them.”

Claims of being the only true magical group

A major red flag is when leaders insist that theirs is the one authentic path, dismissing all other traditions as false or corrupt. This can become very narrow, claiming that the group is the only one which had the “true lineage” from the source. This was important during the Golden Dawn wars. The more cult-like elements in these wars claimed to have a “true lineage” to the Golden Dawn or its successors, thereby lending authenticity and uniqueness to their claims.

Distorted history

Cult-like orders rewrite magical history, rejecting established traditions and inventing a backstory that positions their movement as the sole heirs of ancient wisdom. This makes them appear unique and gives their followers something to believe in. This protects the leadership when an accurate historical premise is presented to group members. For example, a group might be told that its leadership speaks to the same Secret Chiefs who contacted Samual Mathers.  They might quote a letter from Mather discussing his meeting with these secret chiefs.  They might then say that these secret chiefs are real people who communicate with us.  However, a close read of the letter that Mathers wrote shows that he was having a visionary contact with his secret chiefs, and they were not real people.  More often, they might distort their own group’s history by attempting to make it appear older than it is, or had more important members. This is not in itself a sign of cult activity, just an indication that leaders are prepared to lie to members.

False doctrine

Doctrines are twisted to suit the group’s agenda, whether redefining spiritual entities, misrepresenting rituals, or imposing bizarre rules on members in the name of “truth.”  The key here is that the doctrine is designed to trap members within a closed belief system, where only the group’s version of reality is considered valid. A closed system is impossible to challenge because the leaders can make it up as they go along. Anyone who questions it is branded weak, unspiritual, or even cursed.

For example, you could set up a Wiccan or Voodoo group based on a Western perspective on those teachings. You could then take all the bits you understand, or that are culturally acceptable, and build a system around them. No one would ever know that you are making it up, and they will follow blindly.

A similar phenomenon occurred with the Golden Dawn, whose teachings were extensively published by Israel Regardie in the 1930s. This meant that cult leaders had a good basic manual on which to base their group without appearing idiotic.  They then transformed this into a closed system, claiming to have the original teachings from Samuel Mather’s Alpha et Omega order. At the time, no one had those rituals (which were believed to be destroyed), so no one could check.  When I published the AO rituals in my books King of the Water and Mather’s Last Secret, those walls were destroyed. As a result, I was subjected to cult attacks from these orders.

Idolising the leader

The leader is elevated to near-mythical status, treated as a prophet, saint, or untouchable visionary. Their word is law with no questions asked. This is unfortunate because some Eastern systems make this a feature, which often confuses Westerners who do not understand how these systems work. However, once a group sycophantically idolises the leader, they automatically give them too much power. The next stage toward cult is for the leader to insist that all spiritual experiences be discussed with them and with no one else. The next move will be a refusal to answer questions.

Ex-members report trauma

It used to be that when people left a group, the leadership would send out letters to their followers to warn them and to get their story out first. This meant that even if a person told anyone, they would not be believed. The leader of a high-profile organisation was doing well by harvesting women who were having, or on the verge of, breakdowns, by offering to be a father figure for them. That worked for him until the Internet arrived, and suddenly all these victims started talking to each other. The Order went into a tailspin from which it took years to recover.

Sometimes ex-members are threatened, either physically or with curses, to stay quiet, so if they appear online to say anything, it is a sign of bravery.

It is therefore a good idea to read social media and testimonies of former members describing abuse, coercion, isolation, and psychological damage. You don’t have to believe the victim (if you are too highly programmed), but it should send you a red flag if people are saying the same thing.

Lack of financial transparency

Donations vanish into a black hole. Budgets, membership numbers, and leadership structures are hidden. The faithful are told to give more without ever seeing where the money goes. Sometimes, the leadership claims that the cash is being donated to charities, but there is no evidence to suggest that the money actually reaches those charities. It can be hard to do your own police work if this is the case, particularly if the money is supposed to be in overseas children’s charities.

Another important connected issue is when a group starts to demand a lot of money for the most basic things. Hugely expensive workshops, retreats, pricey initiations, and gifts “to the gods,” which often end up being left at the leader’s house, fit into this category.  It should not cost too much money to belong to an occult order, even if you have to pay rent or upkeep on a building.

The leadership orders you to carry out magical or physical attacks on another person, an ex-member or another group.

Magical cults often want their members to act as enforcers for the leadership. If they wish to make magical attacks against others, it is usually because they want the group to focus on an external enemy (as we said above). Most occult leaders who call for these sorts of attacks don’t believe in magic (it is a psychological group control effort) or are so full of their own self-importance that they think they have a right to carry out the magic attack. Either way, this is a huge red flag. More dangerous is when a group leader insists on internet or physical attacks on an enemy.  This has the advantage of turning the group into a criminal gang with similar rules and instilling fear in the group’s enemies.

The leader starts to display bad behaviour.

As we mentioned above, a leader can end up believing their own bullshit and thinking they are a God or Goddess. They will start to see the group as an extension of themselves. It brings out any latent narcissism but will quickly move to threats of violence. In addition, they will start selecting several romantic partners to be their special priest or priestesses. The only issue is that these individuals lack experience, and their role appears to be primarily serving the ego of an increasingly autocratic chief. At this point, the least organised members of the group will stop attending (which is another sign to look for).

 

The post Signs your magical group is a complete and utter cult appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

After analysing several complex relationship cases, I’ve become increasingly convinced that different divinatory systems do not cancel each other out but complement one another. Each speaks from a different layer of reality. In this case, I used two separate decks, the Archetype Deck and Tarot Deck and they revealed what seemed like contradictory readings. But as the situation unfolded, it became evident that both were describing reality from different angles: one symbolic, the other situational.

After the initial Archetype Deck reading, the querent expressed dissatisfaction with the result, highlighting what initially appeared to be a contradiction, though it was not.

The Archetype Deck revealed deep mythic energy. It showed an unconscious projection playing out, with one person projecting a soul-image or anima onto the other. The Tarot Deck showed a clear practical dynamic between the two people involved. It was not an either/or situation. A bond could be real AND archetypal. If anything, a real bond can amplify the projection.

In Jungian and Hermetic terms, a projection is not fantasy. It’s the encounter with one’s own inner content, clothed in flesh.

A projection is “an automatic process whereby contents of the unconscious are perceived to be in others” so every outer entanglement reflects an unresolved inner mystery.

Archetypal Deck

A person appears to embody something archetypal to the other. They become a karmic figure or mythic soul trigger. The reading with the Archetype Deck illustrated this projection using specific imagery, while the Tarot reading reflected an emotional exchange like curiosity, attraction, flirtation, conflict. These concepts are not mutually exclusive. A projection doesn’t vanish because the other person does or doesn’t reciprocate. It deepens and adds voltage to the circuit.

People often misunderstand projection as something “not real.” But psychologically and magically, a projection becomes more real when it finds a vessel. A person doesn’t ask to be the container of someone else’s myth. But they still fit and activate it. The result is a highly charged dynamic. And this is where lessons unfold.

The Real Connection Is the Lesson

Even if the person is unaware of it, they trigger mutual inner transformation. They are not merely a symbol; they carry the symbol and catalyse something beyond their intention.

If the interaction was a fantasy, the projection would dissolve as soon as their imperfections became visible. But sometimes this does not happen. Instead, their realness inflames the projection and the symbolic becomes an experience.

Myth and reality entangle and that becomes a crucible for transformation.

Two Readings, Two Realities

The Archetype Deck captured the unconscious layer mythic script, projection, soul-lesson. The Tarot captured the practical layer, emotional dynamics, behavioural patterns and complexity, timing, and possibility.

One shows the why. The other shows the how.

What “Lesson Learned” Means

For the lesson to be absorbed, the projection must be withdrawn and the trigger integrated. This enables any compulsive charge to be broken. This is magical and psychological work.

One person must recognise the other not as a mystery to solve, a victim to rescue, or a dream to possess, but as a mirror reflecting their longing, loss, desire, and wound. They are not “the one” but the one who shows the other why they want there to be a “one.”

If they can say, “I projected something onto the other that they never asked to carry,” then the myth is seen for what it is. That’s the moment of release.

Sometimes the other person feeds the myth (for a variety of different reasons) and to break this loop they must stop playing energetic bait, absorbing projections and unconsciously offering themselves as the muse or escape for someone else. If they can say, “I don’t have to be someone’s myth,” they step out of the loop.

Until then, they are not in a relationship but servicing someone else’s image.

There Must Be a Collapse or Conscious Ending

For the spell to break, something must give. That may come as an attempted relationship that implodes. Or a clear ending. Or a mutual moment of realisation where both admit they were caught in a larger pattern. If the interaction fades away without that moment of clarity, the loop will repeat, the bond replays. There will be silence, projection, frustration, fantasy but with a different person embodying the same myth and dynamic.

Can the Relationship Happen?

Yes, but not in the form it began.

if the projection is integrated, a relationship that begins in myth can transform into something real, grounded, and bright. But only if both people retrieve their projections and meet each other as their real human selves. Until then, it’s just a drama soap opera, not a partnership.

So, if both wake up inside the myth, they can build something real and deeper because of the karmic heat, not despite it.

This requires inner work. Both must stop acting out archetypes and feeding the sacred drama.

When I mention “karmic” here, I don’t mean the usual New Age nonsense about being doomed to suffer.
A karmic relationship is when your higher self recognises an experience it must have in order to evolve.
The classic karmic setup manifests in two people triggering what the other needs to confront in themselves.

Most karmic bonds don’t evolve into healthy, functional relationships. This is because despite the connection being real, the process is hard. It demands deep inner work: confronting wounds, shadows, power games, and a willingness to see the other person stripped of their respective fantasies.

The outcome, whether painful or transformative, depends on whether you advance through the mirror or cling to the illusion.

This kind of connection forces the ego to surrender to something bigger. It requires both people to awaken, not just one.

If one resists, the bond becomes a loop, a drain, or a re-traumatisation.
But if both do the work and can say, “I see you as you are, not who I wanted you to be,” then the trigger becomes the transformative element and the compulsive charge is alchemised into awareness.

That’s what Jung meant by:

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life, and you will call it fate.”

The Synastry and the Soul Circuit

Astrological synastry confirms these complex energetic threads, which are often considered too challenging to resolve. Their natal charts reveal pronounced anima and animus dynamics. In synastry, specific planetary contacts activate these complexes as if the other person’s chart is wired to trigger unconscious projections and inner archetypes. However, charts only reveal potential. It is the consciousness of the individuals that determines whether it becomes a pattern or a breakthrough.

As Liz Greene explains, synastry often reveals the presence of unconscious complexes and projections in action. Relationships are not always designed for ease or lasting union, but rather to catalyse inner conflict and growth, awakening us through tension, rupture, or confrontation.

She writes:

Individuals blind to the sexual opposite within them, be they men or women, never realise that the partner they choose is chosen because he or she bears some resemblance to the anima or animus. The anger and hurt felt at the ‘true discovery’ of the partner’s failings is really anger and hurt directed at oneself… When a disastrous relationship occurs once, we may fool ourselves into believing it is chance; when it occurs twice, it has become a pattern, and a pattern is an unmistakable indication that the anima or animus is at work in the unconscious, propelling the helpless ego into relationships or situations which are baffling, painful, and frighteningly repetitive.

This demonstrates how relationships act as mirrors, repeatedly triggering our unconscious material until it is made conscious. In another of her texts, Greene compares this process to projecting an image onto a screen; we respond emotionally to the image, unaware that its source lies within ourselves.

Lilith

Projection is driven through synastry.
We could say for example:
His Black Moon Lilith opposes her Sun, where he becomes magnetically drawn to what she embodies but is threatened by it. She represents the radiant self he cannot fully accept or integrate, making her irresistible and unsettling. The intense energy generated by this opposition leads to power struggles, control issues, and clashes of ego and hidden desires.

Another one could be his Saturn conjuncts her Sun. Saturn is rigid and controlling of her core identity, while simultaneously being pulled toward her authority, presence, and light. She feels suppressed, even as he depends on her as a stabilising radian life force.

These alignments are not neutral. They carry charge like electricity through copper, forming the wiring for mythic struggle, erotic tension, and deep psychological and soul-level trials. Strip away those planetary contacts and you’d have another face in the crowd. With them, people morph into symbols, are mythologised and impossible to ignore.

You could have mind-blowing synastry and still crash and burn, if the two people don’t integrate what’s activated. A difficult synastry can lead to profound growth or years of trauma.

Synastry is not written in stone, but an intensity roadmap and your free will decides what to do with it.

Understanding the Self: A Toolbox of Magic, Astrology, Psychology, and Divination

Magic can reveal, support, and cleanse the dynamic. But the real transformation comes when you see the projection and the person, Love the person without needing them to play the role, Let the archetype inform the story but not control it.

This is what the Islamic mystic Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī meant when he wrote:

“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.”

The projection is the meeting. The relationship is what happens after you recognise it.

Divinatory tools and astrology serve to surface these energies. The important thing is to see them not as competing, but as a layered reality. The Archetype Deck shows the myth beneath the story. The Tarot shows the scene onstage. Astrology maps the soul’s imprinting, the karmic DNA of the connection. Other systems, like geomancy, offer earth-rooted diagnostics, ways of reading the immediate energetic landscape and the current trajectory of fate. There are many methods, of course. What truly matters is your openness and willingness to experiment and explore yourself deeply, without fear.

When combined, these tools provide additional clarity and different symbolic, emotional, cosmic, and situational perspectives. But this only works if the querent is mature enough to hold contradiction and depth without rushing to conclusions often biased by personal convictions.

What starts as a confusing push–pull dynamic became a fully illuminated karmic lesson. Whether that lesson becomes love, liberation, or both, depends on whether the mirror is faced.

Projection is a doorway. The other person becomes the teacher you didn’t realise you summoned, and patterns act as riddles to be solved. Integration is where it all clicks into place.

In the end, your higher self provides the script, but it is your awareness that decides where the story goes next.

 

The post Divinatory Methods, Synastry, Projection, and Karma: A Case Study in Esoteric Relationship Dynamics appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

Spend enough time around Rosy Cross groups, and the same party trick appears. Facts run out, someone clears a throat, and suddenly the room is told that Leonardo, Mozart, Giordano Bruno, Victor Hugo, and Beethoven were all members. It is a conjuring act done with famous names. The awe arrives on cue, but the paperwork is lacking.

Rosicrucianism begins as a set of anonymous tracts printed in the early seventeenth century, promising a hidden fraternity that would clean up religion, fix medicine and reorganise knowledge in its spare time. No authors, no membership list, plenty of swagger. Into that gap, later, enthusiasts pushed a trolley full of celebrities. Why build a credible lineage when one can be borrowed from the Renaissance and the Viennese classics? It is marketing and it works because audiences love a story with celebs.

Leonardo da Vinci is the easiest win because he was safely dead a century before the manifestos arrived. The timeline is so wrong it squeaks, yet the forgers keep digging him up. The logic is that since he had notebooks full of clever machinery, drew odd symbols, he must be a secret adept and a Rosicrucian. What is ignored is that in this pile of documentation is anything that ties him to a Rosy Cross circle.

Likewise Giordano Bruno was not a Rosicrucian. He was executed in 1600; the Rosicrucian manifestos were published after that (1614–1616). Whatever his Hermetic memory arts and cosmology, he couldn’t have joined an order that hadn’t appeared yet.

Mozart is used a little differently. Here there is a real trail, just not the one the myth requires. He was a Freemason in Vienna. He wrote The Magic Flute, which waves its Masonic banners so vigorously the cloth can almost be heard snapping. Because eighteenth-century Europe loved a salon and a side hustle, some Masonic systems borrowed Rosicrucian flavour, and people drifted between rooms. From this overlap comes the modern leap that Mozart was Rosicrucian. Yet there is no proof of this either.

Beethoven is recruited by the atmosphere. Liberal politics, a taste for liberty and fraternity, a network that included Masons, a symphony that tries to hug the planet. Perfect for posters, useless for archives. The nineteenth-century romantics adored the myth because it baptised the Ninth Symphony in holy water. The twentieth-century revivalists adored it because it sold memberships. Everyone gets a warm feeling. No one has a primary source that confirms he was a Rosicrucian because none exists.

Victor Hugo was not a Rosicrucian. There’s no documentary membership evidence, and his well-known spiritualist séances in Jersey were decades before Paris’s fin-de-siècle Rosicrucian revivals even started (OKRC in 1888; Péladan’s order 1890; Salon de la Rose+Croix 1892–1897). Hugo died in 1885. It is the wrong place in the timeline and no paperwork.

If the aim is to show how names get drafted in after the fact, Bruno and Hugo are textbook cases: famous, symbolically useful, but out of step with the chronology and lacking primary-source membership records.

This survives repeated fact checks because celebrity endorsement never goes out of style. Within the occult scene, the practice is more candid. Add a rose here, a triangle there, whisper about secret rites, and minds gladly connect dots that were never meant to touch. Repeat it often enough and it becomes what everybody knows.

Occultism suffers because there is a fog of categories. Hermeticism, alchemy, Freemasonry and Rosicrucianism shared streets, books and dinner tables, particularly in German-speaking lands. That neighbourhood is fascinating, but it does not melt the boundaries. A chemist is not automatically a pharmacist. A Mason is not automatically a Rosicrucian.

For readers who want names with receipts, they exist and they do not need borrowed halos. Michael Maier wrote in defence of the fraternity and laced his allegories with music. Robert Fludd drew cosmic engines that every Rosicrucian bookshelf came to love. Joséphin Péladan turned Paris into a temple. Erik Satie provided the spare, floating soundtrack. In the twentieth century, AMORC wrapped the whole lot in neat transatlantic self-help packaging. None of this requires Leonardo or a cameo from Beethoven (even if AMORC insists some bizarre historical characters where Rosicrucians).

Spotting the bollocks is straightforward. Start with the calendar. If an alleged initiate died between 1614 and 1616, time travel is implied. Then you can look for primary sources produced while the person was alive: letters, diaries, and lodge minutes. If the evidence is a lecture from 1890 quoting a pamphlet from 1920, the case on offer is a mood board. It is safe to ignore symbols. A triangle is usually just a triangle, not a Rosicrucian confession engraved in stone.

Then there are those who get around their fiction by saying that since the manifestos tell a story that starts in the 14th century (when CRC was supposed to be alive) it is possible to recruit all sorts of famous names as members of the Order. This is a frightening literal approach to an allegory.

This is not about killing the romance. Legend has its place, but it should not be allowed to encroach on history. Rosicrucianism has colour and consequence of its own. It doesn’t need to borrow from a pantheon to be interesting. When an expert assures a crowd that Leonardo, Mozart or Beethoven was in the work, the sensible response is to ask for the archive reference. If none appears, the nature of the claim is revealed. It is influencer-style advertising with the implication that if you follow my “Rosicrucian visualisation technique”, you will turn into Mozart.

If that stung a little, good. This rant is because of a mate who insists Beethoven wrote the Ninth is a Rosicrucian lodge anthem. If you can’t mention Rosicrucian without claiming something famous belonged you are holding a red flag to you and any material you might produce. Likewise when you start claiming post modern visualisation techniques to the Rosicrucians you start to show that the whole thing is just a house of cards that you have built in your own image.

The post Borrowed Halos appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

Some modern magicians do not believe in gods or spirits. Sometimes it is because they do not view them as necessary to explain the workings of magic, other times it is because they are Atheists who do not really believe in what they are invoking. However, while I don’t think it matters what you believe in, you have to accept that there is something bigger than you.

The Psychological Model of Spirits and Archetypes

For many in the contemporary scene, spirits are regarded as symbolic rather than literal beings. The “psychological model” of magic, which owes much to Jung, treats gods and demons as archetypes drawn from the unconscious.

Results Over Belief

The new slogan is “results, not belief.” If the ritual works, the gods must be irrelevant. This is chaos magic’s gift to the world: gods are IKEA furniture you can assemble when needed and throw in the skip when you move house. Naturally, this means most chaos magicians live in a temple filled with half-built gods, broken screws, and flat-packed belief systems.

Invoking Gods Without Believing in Them

It means that when a psychological magician invokes Hermes or Kali, the effect is understood not as a dialogue with an external being but as a way of activating deep layers of the psyche. This allows the magician to work with the power of myth without having to believe in invisible entities.

Magic in a Post-Cosmological Age

The decline of belief in spirits is linked to the collapse of older cosmologies. Medieval and Renaissance magicians operated within a universe ordered by planetary spheres, angels, and intelligences. In a post-Copernican, scientific world, that structure no longer holds sway. For some practitioners, clinging to it feels like forcing outdated metaphysics onto a modern map of reality. Instead, magic is reframed as a technology of meaning, probability, and psychology.

Efficacy Over Theology

The replacement is that the only thing that matters is whether a ritual produces results. If it works, then one need not invent theories about divine intervention. In this sense, belief in gods becomes superfluous.

Chaos Magic and Disposable Deities

Chaos magic refined this approach by presenting deities and spirits as masks or belief systems to be tried on, used, and discarded with no belief in the force required. In this view, the gods are not real beings in any form, but rather tools, and the magician stands as a power, rather than a mediator of higher powers.

Atheism as Rebellion Against Divine Authority

Finally, disbelief in spirits can be a reaction against authority. Gods often come with cults, hierarchies, and the expectation of devotion. Many modern magicians, shaped by secularism and individualism, prefer to avoid these power dynamics. They are unwilling to bow before cosmic overseers and refuse to outsource agency.

The Atheist Assumption and the Death of Magical Meaning

The claim that one can be a magician and an atheist rests on the assumption that magic is merely a psychological trick, symbolic theatre, or a system of probability manipulation divorced from the divine. Yet when we trace the foundations of magical practice, from Homer through Iamblichus to modern ceremonialists, it becomes clear that magic presupposes a cosmos alive with divinity. To strip that away does not refine magic but dismantles it and makes it meaningless.

Magic and the Living Cosmos

The first problem for the atheist magician is cosmology. Magic is not performed in a dead universe. In antiquity, the cosmos was understood as alive: the Stoics taught that Zeus was not a sky-god but the Logos, the fiery soul that pervades and organises the whole. For Plato, the universe itself was a living creature in Timaeus. Iamblichus, systematising theurgy, insisted that ritual only worked because the gods infused every level of reality. In every case, the operative premise of magic was that reality is not mechanical, but animate, ensouled, and responsive.

Atheism Reduces Magic to Theatre

An atheist worldview, which denies any divine principle beyond matter, strips away this foundation. Without gods, daimons, or a world-soul, magic becomes indistinguishable from stage conjuring. One may wave incense and chant words, but there is no cosmic interlocutor to respond.

The Neoplatonic Chain of Being

Even the most “rational” Platonist recognised daimons as necessary intermediaries between mortals and gods. Socrates himself claimed a daimonion that guided his choices. In Homer, daimōn was often synonymous with theos. Zeus could be called a daimon. Later, Neoplatonists established a hierarchy: gods at the summit, daimons below, followed by heroes, and then human souls. The ladder of beings presupposes divinity at every rung.

Magic Without Spirits is Empty Performance

To practice magic without gods would mean discarding daimons, angels, and spirits, leaving only human imagination. The atheist magician is then not a magician at all, but a dramatist of the psyche.

The Problem of Archetypes in Magical Practice

Modern psychological magicians attempt a sleight of hand by reframing gods as Jungian archetypes. Yet Jung’s archetypes are themselves Platonic forms in disguise. Plato taught that eternal Forms exist in the Divine Mind (Nous); Jung translated them into the “collective unconscious.” Both systems presuppose a transcendent or at least superhuman source of order. Even Jung referred to the archetype of the Self as the “God-image” within.

Smuggling God into the Temple

Thus, the atheist magician who invokes Jung is smuggling God back into the temple under another name and pretending it is not there. To deny the divine while depending on archetypes is to live on borrowed metaphysics. Jung actually believed in a God, so anyone who suggests his system is based on something else is dreaming.

Divine Assumptions in Classical and Renaissance Magic

From the Hermetic corpus to Renaissance grimoires, magicians always assumed a divine cosmos. The Corpus Hermeticum begins: “God is All, and All is God.” Marsilio Ficino, translating Plato and Hermes, prescribed planetary hymns as medicine because the gods’ influence infused the soul. Giordano Bruno, even while rejecting a personal creator, proclaimed an infinite universe filled with divine life.

Crowley Worked with Gods

Aleister Crowley mocked the Christian god, yet never denied its existence; he proclaimed, “Every man and every woman is a star,” and filled his rituals with invocations to gods, angels, and daemons.

The Atheist Magician’s Lineage is a Void

No serious magician in history has worked without a divine framework. The atheist magician has no lineage, no tradition to lean on. They cannot claim to be innovators either, because their work is to dumb down magic into “a system.” Which ignores the essential bits.

Magic as Dialogue, Not Monologue

Most importantly, magic is relational. Ritual is not simply a monologue of human psychology, but a dialogue with powers beyond. Incantations, offerings, and invocations assume reciprocity. A magician may not work with a spirit all their life, or worship it, but they will still know they exist. Even chaos magicians, who claim belief is a tool, still act as though spirits, gods, or archetypes are real for the duration of their working. The atheist who says “I do not believe in gods” but then lights candles to Hekate is caught in contradiction: treating the divine as theatre while still relying on its efficacy.

When Magic Breaks the Rules of Physics

An atheist risks seeing what happens when their magic goes wrong and they have no rational explanation for it. Some of the unexplained phenomena involved in a ritual (people passing out, catching fire, strange smells, falling furniture etc) have no logic in an atheist universe unless there are spirits involved in the working.

Pratchett’s Witches Knew the Gods Too Well

What might be confusing to atheists is that the relationship between gods and spirits is different from religion. The best description I had of this relationship comes from Terry Pratchett:

“Most witches don’t believe in gods. They know that the gods exist, of course. They even deal with them occasionally. But they don’t believe in them. They know them too well. It would be like believing in the postman.”
— Witches Abroad by Terry Pratchett

Cultural Masks and Magical Power

In other words, they are real, and some magicians even worship them, following everyday theology and dogma. But the gods are universal powers which humanity gives cultural masks and stories. The magicians’ rituals use these masks to plug into the power behind them. If they do not believe these powers exist, then there would be nothing they could evoke and no magic.

Atheists Cannot Lead Magical Traditions They Don’t Believe In

This was brought home to me when a magician attempted to use their goddess to silence them and posted a threat online. I visited the spirit on the astral and asked if they were going to follow up on the threat. The Goddess sighed and stated that the person was an atheist and did not truly believe in her, so she could not intervene at a religious level. Additionally, the person was untrained and could not use her energy at a magical level either.

Initiating Into What You Don’t Believe

A similar thing happened with a group whose leader was initiating into a current where the belief in some form of Hermetic perception of the One Thing was a requirement. The person was a confessed atheist, so the question for the group quickly became, “What is he initiating us into?” They might have also asked how he could lead them somewhere he had not been or believed in.

What Does Magical Religion Look Like?

A magician’s religion is undogmatic and highly personal, which sets it apart from both institutional faith and modern atheism. In the Middle Ages, such heterodoxy could have been fatal: to admit to revering the Virgin while also conversing with planetary intelligences, or to affirm the Trinity while simultaneously invoking Hermes Trismegistus, was to invite suspicion of heresy.

Magic as Personal Practice

Magicians have rarely submitted to religious creeds in their entirety. They might formally belong to Christianity, Islam, Judaism, or paganism. Still, their practices almost always diverge at key points: they bend liturgy to fit planetary timings, they insert names of power outside of canonical scripture, and they seek not only salvation but also transformation of the self through ritual.

The Divine Self Is Essential to Magic

Ultimately, they recognise that they are a spark of the macrocosm and want to step outside their microcosmic personality and into that infinity. Their power is found in a macrocosmic awakening within the microcosm of their personality. Once they realise that power in something bigger than their egos, their lower self becomes a tool for the Higher or Divine self. Obviously, to reach this important goal, a belief in a divine self which is both inside and outside the microcosmic personality is vital.

Magic Is Not Orthodoxy

Even for the most religiously dogmatic magician’s, magic becomes a bricolage drawing on scripture, philosophy, Hermetica, astrology, PGM spells, and whatever else proves effective. In this sense, the magician’s religion is not orthodoxy but experimental, adaptive, and pragmatic. However, it is still a form of belief in a reality that is bigger than personality.

Religious Divergence Is the Magician’s Hallmark

So while the magician may appear to follow an established religion, the reality is always divergence at the pressure points: on the nature of the divine, on the role of ritual, on the legitimacy of hidden knowledge. This divergence is precisely what makes the magician’s path religious but never orthodox which is a  stance too flexible for priests, heretical for inquisitors, and inconvenient to be tolerated in a society demanding conformity.

The post Why Magicians Cannot Be Atheists appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

A successful ritual is comprised of several elements that can be listed under two classifications: tools and methods. Here, Chic and Sandra Tabatha Cicero discuss the tools and methods of ritual in Golden Dawn magic.

Golden Dawn Magic utilizes various techniques of ritual magic, which is a structured, spiritual practice involving symbols, actions, and repetition to produce a specific objective. Here, Chic and Sandra Tabatha Cicero dive in to the benefits of ritual in Golden Dawn Magic.

(A Brief Guide to Recognising the Noisy but Hollow Species)

David Attenborough voiceover, with Saint-Saëns’ Aquarium from Carnival of the Animals in the background

And here we see the Occult Bully in its natural habitat. Watch closely as it inflates its chest with noisy declarations, striving to draw attention, yet betraying its anxious struggle for relevance.

It responds to well-constructed arguments with secondary-school-level petty insults, open threats and theatrical performances.  It is not the brightest creature in the occult forest and has not evolved the intellectual tools to counter with evidence or reason.

Like an alpha-wannabe wolf-cub, it howls at shadows and insists that others in its pack bark along with it. Its nesting habits are curious. While it makes the sound of an apex predator, many specimens are still found in their original family dens and depend on their mother to provide them with food while being comforted by the surrounding childhood wallpaper. The bully’s alpha growl is a fascinating adaptation: the louder the howl in public, the more dependent the creature is in private.

Its pup-like tantrum is screaming:
“Don’t listen to anyone else, only me! Pay for our path and shut the hell up! We are wonderful, you are secretly jealous of my prodigious powers! Ignore dissent, it’s all nonsense and gossip!
And by the way, stop bothering me or punishment will follow.”

This can be observed at the weekend when it dons the coat of hunters, black T-shirts and borrowed threats of violence. This is a clever camouflage which hopes to hide it from real predators who might call it names and cause it to burst into tears.

The bully lives in an alternative reality, building echo chambers where cult-like thinking is enforced. Those outside the flock are labelled as threats, and those inside who speak up are quickly silenced, either through mockery or intimidation, and in some cases, theatrically exiled.

The Occult Bully is generally one of nature’s misogynists, which makes it difficult for them to find a long-term mate. Females who dare to disagree are branded as desperate or irrelevant, because when intellect fails, the bully always runs back to the crutch of sexism so that they do not have to risk establishing a nest away from their mother. As a species they might have died out completely if it were not for females finding their small-minded and the pocket-sized machismo attractive.

Biologists have found the occult bully displays what humans would call narcissistic traits combined with fragile self-esteem. It can’t tolerate cognitive dissonance, the uncomfortable clash between an inflated self-image and the reality of being challenged, especially by a woman. To preserve the illusion of control, the bully does not engage in reasoned arguments but attacks the challenger. Classic ego-preservation through devaluation.

The louder the ranting, the clearer the insecurity. The bully cannot survive real scrutiny, so it projects, accuses, and distracts. Its biggest fear is exposure, and that one day someone will stop and ask, “Why would a true teacher waste so much energy silencing others if they are so confident about their work, and let this work speak for itself?”

The Occult Bully parades as a self-anointed wizard-pope, and a Master of the Universe draped in borrowed ancestral glamour: credentials that evaporate with the first breath of questioning.

Its hunger for external validation tightens into a frantic grip on attention and makes it vulnerable to predators. So, it exudes a toxic gas of self-righteousness from its sore butt, which clouds the air with cries of “media bias or persecution.”

And, dulcis in fundo, the cliché scene: the bully’s minions, drawn to performance and the gas rather than true knowledge, (or even the most basic maturity), rally together to clap their leader like wind-up toys wound too tight when the script degenerates into threats, revealing their true evolutionary stage.

The pack mentality is interesting. their adoration mirrors the same fragile ego issues they share with their leader. The same desperate need for belonging and validation, inability to face dissent without deflating into pathetic little jeers, the paper-thin selfhood disguised as esoteric wisdom. Even those who parade fragments of knowledge betray their true nature when integrity is tested, displaying the predictable reflex of the spiritually hollow. choosing flattery of the bully over the courage of truth, each eager to be the bootlicker of the hour.

If these creatures really were as strong as they claim, they would not need to shout, threaten, or belittle. They would not gather in packs or attack dissent. Yet the occult bully always feels the need to posture about “BEATING SOMEONE UP” like some playground thug in a black t-shirt.

The bully species in occultism or anywhere else behaves the same way.

Next time you see one of these specimens strutting around occult circles, stop and observe: the louder the bark, the hollower the skull. Noise and theatre are all they have, because substance requires a depth and inner truth they’ll never reach, and the Universe knows it.

The post Yapping in Black Robes: Documentary Notes on the Occult Bully’s Psychological Profile appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

Un tempo l’occultismo richiamava alla mente visioni di stanze in penombra, rituali solenni e iniziati intenti a strappare il velo che separa dal mistero dell’esistenza, vagando nel proprio mondo interiore in un lungo pellegrinaggio per scoprire il vero sé e i segreti dell’universo. Oggi, nel cosiddetto “rinascimento esoterico”, è più probabile trovarsi ad una più o meno costosa “convention europea” che è per metà TED Talk, con contorno di DJ, cocktail artigianali e una manciata di funghetti o canne. 

La vera magia dell’occultismo moderno consiste nell’abilità di trasformare ingenui “cercatori” in clienti abituali con carta di credito a portata di mano. 

Il grande circo accademico-occulto 

La cosa salta agli occhi senza alcun pudore appena ci si mette piede. Di recente abbiamo avuto una lunga conversazione con un amico, un “accademico” convertito in insider del mondo occulto, che ha confermato con estrema nonchalance ciò che era già palese: questi gruppi, società e “istituti di studi esoterici” non sono altro che organizzatori di feste travestiti da intellettuali, con una spruzzata di erudizione per darsi un tono. 

Si punta al networking, branding e alla vendita di esperienze con l’illusione di profondità. 

Organizzazioni con nomi altisonanti danno l’impressione di un insegnamento strutturato, ma il “curriculum” sembra più un menù rotante di qualunque sistema magico sembri abbastanza esotico da attirare gli spiritualmente ingenui. Una stagione è il hoodoo, poi il voodoo, poi la stregoneria, poi l’animismo thailandese, poi qualche ibrido cerimoniale inventato la settimana prima utilizzando testi facilmente reperibili in qualunque libreria, o magari una “tecnica alchemica segreta” senza alcuna origine verificabile. L’autenticità non è richiesta. L’importante è offrire qualcosa di “nuovo” alla prossima ondata di ignari partecipanti.
Basta aggiungere una spolverata di titoli accademici e una lista di “relatori prestigiosi” o di chiunque abbia anche solo una reputazione vagamente mistica. Poi via con le conferenze, che all’orecchio inesperto suonano profonde, tanto nessuno si sogna di mettere in discussione i contenuti, dopotutto, hanno pagato il biglietto. 

Le conferenze
Dunque, qual è la vera esperienza offerta da questi eventi profondamente trasformativi? Una sala storica affittata per l’occasione, per dare un tocco di solennità. 

Conferenze che suonerebbero credibili anche se i relatori non avessero mai nemmeno sfiorato un vero percorso spirituale. Il tutto condito da socializzazione mascherata da “connessione con anime affini o “comunità sacra” e per molti “elitaria”. 

 Workshop dai titoli mistici venduti a peso d’oro. E poi, immancabile, l’afterparty, il vero rituale dell’occultismo moderno.
 Entrano in scena i DJ, le canne (a volte con qualcosa di più “interessante” del semplice fumo), gli psichedelici, e gli incontri occasionali travestiti da “esplorazione tantrica”. Tutto estremamente curato e Instagrammabile. Per un attimo, tutti si sentono parte di un’esclusiva cerchia magica sotterranea, quando in realtà è solo l’ennesima festicciola da sabato sera con gente che beve, si sballa e finge che sia “pratica spirituale”. 

 Questo è il nuovo rinascimento occulto, dove il capitalismo e la mascherata si incontrano in una nuvoletta d’incenso.
 Anche il più insignificante babbano può dichiarare di aver vissuto una “profonda esperienza mistica” o di aver “toccato l’aldilà” dopo una canna ben farcita, un sorso di ayahuasca, una botta di LSD, un cartoncino di mescalina, un giro di DMT o un bel decotto di peyote. Giurano d’aver incontrato una divinità, fuso l’anima con il cosmo o scoperto una gnosi segreta, finché arriva il mattino dopo e con esso la sbornia della realtà. 

Provate ad avere un’esperienza divina senza l’aiutino chimico. Provate a stare in silenzio, a fare pratiche regolari che spingono oltre i propri limiti, resistenze, schemi inconsci, e vediamo che succede. La maggior parte non scalfisce nemmeno la superficie. E questo è il punto. Non sono lì per il vero lavoro. Sono lì per l’etichetta glamour, la sensazione di magia, non quella reale. 

Perché questo sistema funziona 

 La mia domanda è: perché la gente si fa inghiottire da questo circo sgargiante? 

 Una risposta è che la maggior parte dei partecipanti non sono veri cercatori. Sono turisti spirituali. Vogliono una comunità curata, conosciuta, altisonante, con un’aura ribelle, una storia da raccontare su quanto è stato “illuminante” il weekend, vivere il brivido del mistero senza la scocciatura del lavoro interiore. 

 Gli organizzatori lo sanno bene. Ci costruiscono sopra un business e un ego gonfiato. Basta aggiungere qualche nome famoso, alludere a iniziazioni segrete e sfoggiare “rivendicazioni di lignaggio” quantomeno sospette, ed ecco servito il prodotto. 

La scena esoterica occidentale è diventata un mercatino mistico. Può sembrare abbastanza autentica per chi non ha gli strumenti per capirla. E siccome la gente paga per l’illusione, nessuno osa spezzare l’incantesimo facendo domande scomode. 

 La mia fonte mi ha rivelato che quando parla a questi eventi riceve applausi educati e complimenti entusiasti anche dopo aver “sparato cazzate totali”. 

 La trappola dell’esotico 

 Forse la parte più cinica è la feticizzazione delle tradizioni esotiche. I gruppi occidentali adorano attaccare l’etichetta “autentico” alle loro offerte superficiali, prendendo in prestito culture che non capiscono, diluite e impacchettate per il consumo occidentale. Poco importa se il lignaggio è falso, gli insegnamenti inventati, distorti o mal interpretati, roba che farebbe rabbrividire qualunque vero iniziato. 

 Ciò che conta è vendere qualcosa di “nuovo” per il prossimo ciclo di workshop. Un buffet spirituale per chi pensa che “diversificare” significhi illuminazione. 

 Una tecnica astuta è quella di avere un gruppo ben pubblicizzato che funge da facciata per altre attività redditizie. Di solito cercano di attirare clienti dichiarando competenza in un ambito specifico. Ma basta un’osservazione oggettiva per veder emergere le crepe.  

Ad esempio, un certo personaggio “sulla scena” millanta il lignaggio Whare Ra. Il problema è che conosciamo tutti coloro che possono rivendicarlo legittimamente, e lui non è tra questi. Più tardi ha tentato di unirsi al MOAA, a patto che lo riconoscessimo come 7=4. Gli abbiamo cortesemente suggerito di “andare a moltiplicarsi”. 

In Italia uno stratagemma ricorrente è rivendicare un lignaggio da “streghe italiane”, come se esistesse un sistema organico, con tanto di attestato da appendere in salotto. La stregoneria italiana esiste, ma nella sua forma autentica è per lo più radicata in contesti cristiani e familiari, non qualcosa che si possa apprendere in un seminario del fine settimana. 

 Ma se questi gruppi sono così vuoti e fuorvianti, perché l’universo ne permette l’esistenza? 

Forse perché svolgono, inconsapevolmente, una funzione di pubblica utilità: agiscono come filtri e distrazioni per chi non è ancora pronto al lavoro autentico. L’esercito di aspiranti sembra sterminato, ma bastano un paio di iniziazioni e il primo vero ostacolo per vederli svanire, attratti dal successivo gingillo esoterico. In fondo, forse l’universo sta facendo un favore ai gruppi seri, risparmiando loro l’onere di addestrare chi desidera soltanto un’esperienza alla “Eyes Wide Shut”, corredata di drink, droghe e stuzzichini post-rituale. 

 Offrono l’illusione di potere o di crescita spirituale a chi cerca escamotage, comodità e spettacolo, celando una totale assenza di sostanza o, nel peggiore dei casi, pratiche rituali pericolose che sfuggono al controllo del sedicente maestro e finiscono per lasciare segni sulla pelle e psiche dei malcapitati. I templi falsi fungono da setaccio, lasciando passare solo chi ha la forza di strappare il velo dell’inganno e sopportare la disillusione, per poi cercare ciò che è autentico. In questo senso, sono tappe necessarie o vicoli ciechi, a seconda della capacità di discernimento e dello stadio evolutivo di ciascuno. 

 Alcuni li scelgono inconsciamente per proteggere il proprio ego. Entrare in un sistema vuoto significa non dover mai affrontare né integrare la propria ombra, quella parte che smantella identità fittizie e zone di comfort. Offrono l’illusione della profondità senza il trauma di una trasformazione autentica. 

In questi ambienti, le credenze non vengono messe in discussione, le illusioni rimangono intatte e la vanità spirituale è costantemente nutrita. Per chi teme il vero cambiamento, questo mondo fasullo è il rifugio ideale: permette loro di indossare i panni del “cercatore” senza mai mettere a rischio il proprio ego. 

E i veri cercatori? Quelli che desiderano davvero intraprendere un cammino iniziatico capace di trasformare, non di intrattenere? 

Entrano in questo mondo affamati di significato e invece vengono nutriti con evasione psichedelica, socializzazione superficiale e il falso glamour dei gruppi “esclusivi” ed autocelebrativi. Senza discernimento, rischiano di uscirne più confusi, disillusi e spesso più poveri, spiritualmente ed economicamente. 

 Nel frattempo, il lavoro autentico, solitario, lento e privo di malia, lo scomodo smascheramento delle illusioni, continua a essere ignorato dalla maggioranza, impegnata a inseguire il prossimo miraggio esoterico. 

E arrivati al fondo del barile trovi pure il DJ. 

La scena magica moderna ha toccato il fondo. E a quanto pare ha deciso di farci una festa. 

Invece di iniziati, sfilano influencer. Invece di insegnanti, venditori. 

Questi gruppi continueranno a prosperare, non perché siano potenti dal punto di vista magico, ma perché la maggior parte delle persone preferisce l’illusione della profondità alla realtà della trasformazione. 

 Questo fenomeno non è un’anomalia esclusiva dell’occultismo. Riflette una condizione molto più ampia della società contemporanea. Viviamo in un’epoca dove tutto è reso facilmente accessibile, privo di sfida e impacchettato per il consumo istantaneo. L’istruzione si riduce a titoli ottenuti con minimo sforzo. Gli insegnamenti spirituali sono compressi in meme accattivanti. Internet ha reso accessibile anche la conoscenza più rara senza la disciplina e il rispetto che un tempo erano richiesti per meritarla. Ma l’accesso facile diluisce il valore. La scena occultista contemporanea riflette una malattia culturale più profonda. Una fascinazione per l’apparenza elegante, l’ingresso facile, nessuna prova reale, nessuna vera iniziazione. Solo un’illusione venduta a chi non sa distinguere la realtà da Dungeons & Dragons. 

 Non sto dicendo che tutte le convention esoteriche siano una perdita di tempo, ma richiedono discernimento. All’inizio del mio percorso ho avuto la mia dose di esperienze deludenti. Nulla di strano per chi muove i primi passi. Ma ho imparato presto a riconoscere i segnali d’allarme e a uscire di scena. Nel mio percorso personale nella Golden Dawn mi considero fortunata: avrei potuto facilmente imbattermi nel gruppo sbagliato, e questo avrebbe sicuramente minato la mia fiducia e determinazione a proseguire il lavoro in quella direzione. 

 La domanda per chi si avvicina al mondo esoterico è: come riconoscere se qualcuno è autentico o un venditore di fuffa mistica? La verità è che chi lavora seriamente di rado si svende o si mette in mostra in maniera sistematica e ossessiva. Qui non si alimentano illusioni di appartenenza per colmare vuoti interiori. Nessuna carezza all’ego, nessuna promessa di traguardi lampo. Il cammino offerto è duro, scomodo e pretende impegno e temerarietà. Un insegnante o sistema autentico ti lascia con più domande che risposte, chiede di “disimparare”, ti spoglia delle certezze, ti costringe a guardare dove non vuoi, non a esibirti dove ti applaudono, non ti promettono upgrade di ruolo, visibilità, riconoscimenti o medaglie per il lavoro fatto. Questo approccio è dolorosamente trasformativo, senza gli artifici da palcoscenico del “magico” di facciata. 

Chi promette potere istantaneo, vende il proprio lignaggio come un prodotto o ha bisogno costante di essere visto e lodato nei circoli sociali sta offrendo una performance, non un’iniziazione. La vera profondità è silenziosa, lenta e scomoda. Il vuoto è rumoroso, rapido e seducente. 

 Perciò, evita di cercare la magia tra le bancarelle del mercato. Diffida dei mondi scintillanti e superficiali, delle location di lusso, di alcuni “accademici” la cui principale abilità è sfoggiare un linguaggio pomposo privo di qualunque esperienza diretta, e delle “società esclusive” che propongono sistemi esotici come fossero l’ultima Birkin, con tanto di promessa di illuminazione. 

 Se l’offerta suona come sesso, droga, networking e un DJ set, non illuderti: non ti stanno invitando a scoprire i segreti dell’universo, ma a diventare l’ennesimo ingranaggio in un meccanismo di marketing. 

 La vera magia è più silenziosa, ardua, meno glamour. Non ha bisogno di hashtag o afterparty. 

 Che le celebrità occulte, gli organizzatori di eventi mistici e i maghi accademici che alimentano questo abisso luminoso si godano pure il loro impero di illusioni. Può vendere bene, ma non porta da nessuna parte. Soprattutto quando la nebbia psichedelica si dirada, il DJ smonta l’impianto e l’unica cosa che rimane sei tu e la tua merda da affrontare. 

The post Sesso, droga e musica scadente: il vuoto patinato dell’occultismo contemporaneo  appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

The modern occult scene is drowning in sparkle and stupidity, and nothing proves it more than the rise of the overpriced online course.

Click on one of these overdesigned horrors and you’re greeted with ambient synth drones, mystical fonts cribbed from a Lord of the Rings DVD menu, and the promise of ancient secrets revealed. Hand over a few grand and you’ve just paid for the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram (again).

We’re talking eye-watering prices for material so old it’s public domain in drag. No gnosis, just Regardie with a Canva upgrade.

There are exceptions. Doc Solomon’s Aaron Leitch puts out stuff that’s cheap, usable, and doesn’t try to convince you he was trained in Atlantis. His work is practical, down-to-earth and mercifully free of unicorn emojis. Servants of the Light do a good course, but only if you put in the work.  If you like to learn about Tarot in an esoteric system and adore the New Age approach and a cult of personality around dead leaders, there is always BOTA.  But they are an anomaly in a sea of “Awaken Your Divine Lightbody in Five Easy Payments” nonsense and don’t cost an arm and a leg.

A few years ago, MOAA ran a proper correspondence course. It was written to cover the entire Golden Dawn outer order. The initiations were converted into pathworkings, the exercises were stripped down and made practical, and it didn’t cost a bloody fortune. The whole thing took just a couple of months to write, less time than it would’ve taken to bang out a book. It ran for 20 months, and the plan was to let students move through it gradually while submitting meditation diaries to supervisors.

Did students do the work? Did they hell. The first course had half of them drop out. Second course, half of those left bailed too. Only two people got to lesson 20. It wasn’t even about the money. The course was free at first. Then it was priced at a whopping five bucks, just so people would treat it like it had some value. Still, the dropout rate made lemmings look committed.

In the end, we killed the course off. Not because it wasn’t good, it was, but because it took far too much time and energy to babysit people who couldn’t be arsed to do a daily meditation and write a few lines about it. The return on effort was zero.

Now here’s the really grim bit. None of these modern course “teachers” seem to have been trained by anyone. Their sole qualification is that they’ve slapped together a course and stuck a price tag on it. Some of these courses look suspiciously like they’ve been spat out by AI or lifted wholesale from someone else’s hard work. Aaron Leitch’s course was pirated by someone who then failed to provide even the most basic support or instruction.

One recent commercial course even tried to charge several thousand euro for a bland rehash of the Middle Pillar and LBRP. No context, no depth, not even a fresh thought. Just the same basic rituals you can find in second-hand bookshops or written in biro on the back of a pub napkin by someone who once read Crowley.

If you’re paying top dollar for PDFs, pre-recorded YouTube videos and a certificate designed in Microsoft Word with a fake Latin motto, you’re not being initiated into a mystery tradition. You’re funding someone’s new kitchen.  These can be as lucrative as online conferences which Paola wrote about here.

It is hard to tell if a course is worth the money. Some of the worst junk is dressed up like the second coming of Mathers. It is based on the premise that ‘real occult secrets’ must be delivered by Harpo Marx [pictured] dressed in black robes, pretending to be a magician while honking through scripts. These productions aren’t meant to teach anything; they’re built to match what punters think arcane mystery looks like.

Sometimes you can dig up the truth about these clowns with a quick internet search. There might be complaints, legal threats, warnings, or whispers on forums. Other times, you’ll find nothing but polished nonsense and marketing fluff. Hefty price tags are another clue. If it looks like it was priced by a cocaine nose jobs of Wall Street, it’s probably bollocks.

It’s not difficult to create a decent online course, especially if it focuses on a specific aspect of a tradition. They end up like the weekend workshops I went to in the 1990s. You’d go, get a brainful of insight from someone who knows what they are talking about, and be left to work out the rest on your own. That model worked because it wasn’t pretending to be a path to enlightenment wrapped in glitter.

The real irony is that this knowledge is readily available, either for free or in books. Real occult work lives in grimoires, academic texts and the reading matter that requires thought, not shopping carts and countdown timers.

Thanks to influencer culture, algorithmic sleaze and faux exclusivity, the grifters have levelled up. Their marketing tools are sharper but the scam is as old as a tarot deck.

Magical training still demands effort. It means reading, contemplating, trying stuff out and thinking critically. Most of these so-called courses bank on you doing none of the above.

So next time a glossy, magical mega-package tempts you, ask what you’re buying. If it’s just the LBRP and Middle Pillar served with fairy dust and fake gravitas, save your money. Buy a book and learn something.

The post Old Spells, new scams: occult courses fleece punters appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

The symbolic language of tarot is intensely powerful, and it lends itself readily to spellcraft. Here, Tarot for the Magically Inclined author Jack Chanek offers a step-by-step guide to using tarot symbolism in writing creative and original spells for any purpose.

Once occultism conjured images of dimly lit chambers, austere rituals, and initiates genuinely trying to pierce the veil of existence, wandering in their inner underworld, in a long quest to find their true selves and the secrets of the universe. Fast forward to today’s so-called “esoteric revival,” and you’re more likely to find yourself at an overpriced “Euro convention” that’s half TED Talk, garnished with a DJ, craft cocktails, and a handful of mushrooms or joints. 

The modern occult scene’s only true magic is the alchemy of transforming gullible “seekers” into repeat-paying customers. 

 The academic-occult industrial complex 

The whole thing is laughably transparent once you step inside. I recently spoke with a friend, an “academic” turned occult world insider, who casually confirmed what was already evident: these groups, societies, and “institutes of esoteric studies” are glorified party planners with a scholarship coating. 

It’s all about networking, branding, and selling experiences with an illusion of depth. 

Organisations with fancy names might give you the idea of structured teaching, instead, the “curriculum” is a rotating menu of whatever magical system sounds exotic enough to bait the spiritually naïve. One season it’s hoodoo, voodoo, witchcraft, next it’s Thai animism, then some ceremonial hybrid invented last week, or a bit of “secret alchemical technique” with no verifiable lineage. But authenticity is not a requirement, offering something “fresh” for the next batch of unaware attendees is paramount. 

Add a sprinkling of academic titles and a speaker list of “well-known names”, or anyone with a vaguely mystical reputation. They churn out lectures that sound profound enough to the untrained ear, and no one bothers to question the content because, well, they paid for it. 

 Conferences  

So, what’s the real experience of these deeply transformative events? A fancy historical hall rented for the day.  

Lectures that would sound credible even if they never experienced a true spiritual system. Social mingling dressed up as “networking with like-minded souls” or “sacred community.” 

Overpriced workshops on mystical-sounding topics. And then the inevitable afterparty, the true ritual of modern occultism. 

Out come the DJs, the joints (sometimes laced with more than “just weed”), the psychedelics, the casual hookups masquerading as “tantric exploration.” It’s all very polished and Instagrammable. For a moment, everyone feels like they’re part of an exclusive magical underground when really, it’s just another shallow scene of people drinking, getting high, and pretending it’s “spiritual practice.” 

This is the new occult renaissance, where capitalism and cosplay meet a faint whiff of incense.

Even the most unremarkable muggle can claim a “deep mystical experience” and they have “touched the beyond” after a well-laced joint, ayahuasca, a hit of LSD, a tab of mescaline, DMT, or a glass of peyote brew. They’ll swear they met a deity, merged with the cosmos, or unlocked some sacred gnosis until the next morning when the hangover of reality sets in. 

Try having a “divine experience” without the chemical crutch or sitting in silence, performing regular rituals and practices that force you beyond your limits, resistance, unconscious patterns, and see what happens. Most can’t. And that’s the point they’re not there for real work. They’re there for the cool titles, the sensation of magic, not the reality of it. 

 Why it works 

My question is: why do people fall for this glittering circus? 

One answer is that because most attendees aren’t real seekers. They’re spiritual tourists. They want a curated community that feels edgy, story to tell about how “enlightening” their weekend was, the thrill of dip into mystery without the inconvenience of inner work. 

The organisers know it. It sells. Sprinkle in a few well-known names, hint at secret initiations, add some dubious “lineage claims,” and you have a product. 

The Western esoteric scene has become a mystical marketplace. It may all sound authentic enough to the uninitiated. And because these people are paying for an illusion, no one dares break the spell by asking tough questions. 

My source said that when they speak at these events they are politely clapped and given glowing compliments even after “talking total bullshit.” 

 The Exotic Trap 

Perhaps the most cynical part is the fetishisation of exotic traditions. Western groups love to slap “authenticity” onto their shallow offerings by borrowing from cultures they barely understand diluted and packaged for Western consumption. Who cares if the lineage is bogus, teachings are made up, compatible, or even properly understood?
It’s about selling something “new” for the next workshop cycle. A spiritual buffet for those who think “diversity” equals enlightenment. 

 A clever technique is to have a slickly marketed group which acts as a front for other money-spinning activities. They usually try to rope in customers by claiming expertise in a chosen field. However, when looked at objectively, there are many holes in the practice. For example, there is one person “on the circuit” who claimed he had Whare Ra lineage.  Fortunately, we know all the people who have that, and he is not one of them.  Later this same person tried to join MOAA if we acknowledged him as a 7=4 and made him a chief. We told him to “go forth and multiply.”   In Italy, one trick is to claim lineage from Italian witches as if such a thing existed in a nicely packaged format complete with a certificate. (Italian witchcraft does exist and it is mostly Christian and family traditions rather than something you can train in). 

If these groups are so hollow and misleading, why does the universe allow them to exist?. Perhaps because they serve a hidden function. They are filters and distractions, catching those who are not yet ready for the real work.  The numbers of people who appear ready for training is legion, but after a couple of initiations and at the first sign of difficulty they leave in search of the next shiny object. Maybe the universe is saving real groups the time and effort of initiating those who want an “eyes wide shut” experience with drinks, drugs and sausages-on-sticks to follow. 

They offer the illusion of progress to those who still crave shortcuts, comfort, and spectacle. The false temples exist so that only the few who can see beyond the glitter will seek what is true. In that sense, they are necessary stepping stones or dead ends, depending on one’s capacity for discernment.

Some choose them unconsciously, to keep their ego safe. Joining a hollow system means never having to confront the real shadow work that strips away identity and comfort. It offers the appearance of depth without the discomfort of genuine transformation.
In such spaces, your beliefs are never challenged, illusions remain intact, and spiritual vanity is constantly fed. For those terrified of true change, the shiny fake world is a perfect refuge, it lets them play the role of “seeker” without ever risking their ego. 

 What about true seekers who want to do the work, adventure in an initiatory path that transforms rather than entertains? 

They come into this world hungry for meaning, and instead they’re fed psychedelic escapism, endless superficial socialising, and the false glamour of “exclusive” groups. Without discernment, the risk is to leave more confused, disenchanted and often financially and spiritually poorer. 

Meanwhile, the real, lonely, slow, unglamorous work of inner transformation, uncomfortable stripping away of illusions, instead of feeding the ego, remains ignored by the most. 

 Rock bottom has a DJ 

The modern magical scene has reached rock bottom and apparently decided to throw a party there. Instead of initiates, we have influencers. Instead of teachers, we have salesmen. 

These groups will keep thriving, not because they’re magically powerful, but because most people prefer the illusion of depth over the reality of transformation. 

This phenomenon in the occult world is not isolated, it reflects a much wider condition in contemporary society. We live in an age where everything is made easily accessible, stripped of challenge, and repackaged for instant consumption. Education is reduced to degrees earned with minimal effort, spiritual teachings are compressed into catchy memes, and the internet has made even the rarest knowledge available without the discipline and respect once required to earn it. But easy access dilutes value. The modern occult scene mirrors the larger cultural disease, and its attraction for a fashionable packaging, easy entry, no real trials, no true initiations, just an illusion sold to those who can’t tell the difference. 

I’m not claiming that all esoteric conventions are a complete waste of time, but they require careful discernment. When I was younger, I had my share of disappointing experiences, nothing unusual for someone starting out, but I quickly recognised the red flags and walked away. In my personal path within the Golden Dawn tradition, I consider myself extremely fortunate. I could have easily ended up in the wrong group, and that might have damaged my trust and willingness to continue the work in that direction. 

A fair question for anyone approaching the esoteric world is: how do I recognise if someone is genuine or just selling empty words wrapped in mystical language? The truth is that those who have done the real work rarely sell themselves easily. They don’t flatter your ego with promises of quick results. Their path feels demanding, not convenient, and they will likely ask you to unlearn more than you learn. A genuine teacher or system will leave you with more questions than answers, and their work will feel often painfully transformative rather than theatrically “magical.” While anyone who promises instant empowerment, markets their lineage like a product, or constantly needs to be seen and praised in social circles is giving you performance, not initiation. Real depth is quiet, slow, and uncomfortable; emptiness is loud, fast, and easy. 

So, don’t look for magic in the marketplace. Be careful when it comes to glittery shallow worlds and fancy locations, “scholars” whose main skill is delivering academic jargon with no direct experience into a magical system and the “exclusive societies” that feed you endless exotic systems like a new fashionable pair of shoes while promising enlightenment. 

If what you’re offered looks like sex, drugs, networking, and a DJ set, know that you’re not being invited into a discovery of the secrets of the universe but a marketing funnel. 

Real magic is quieter, harder, less glamorous. It doesn’t need hashtags or afterparties. 

May the occult celebrities, mystical event organisers and academic magicians propping up this radiant abyss enjoy their empire of illusions. It may sell well, but it leads nowhere, especially after the psychedelic haze clears, the DJ packs up and all that remains is you and your shit to sort out. 

 

The post Sex, drugs, and bad music: the glittering vacuum of the modern occult scene  appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

When people rattle off the big names of the occult world, it’s always the same predictable list. Crowley, who never met a press release he didn’t like. Mathers, who loved dressing up in more robes than an archbishop. Gerald Gardner, who liked being a witch almost as much as he enjoyed being whipped. Perhaps someone throws in ‘Dee’ to sound clever.

But lurking in the background is a man who was did doing valuable who has been missed: John Heyden, the 17th-century astrologer, alchemist, and author of Theomagica: Temple of Wisdom

A Rosicrucian Ambassador (Self-Appointed)

Heyden lived in post-Civil War England, where only a small percentage believed in magic. The rest thought astrology was devilry and the others were too drunk to care. But unlike the modern crowd who hint at Rosicrucian ties for a bit of mystique, Heyden went all in. He claimed to be an ambassador for the Rosicrucian movement and the face of their secret fraternity on English soil.

Considering the Rosicrucians were more of an idea than an organised body, probably not in the way he liked to imagine. But in fairness, it was the 17th century, and calling yourself a Rosicrucian anything was like sticking a “mystery influencer” badge on your chest. It got attention, and it worked.

In Theomagica,  Heyden pulled together astrology, ceremonial magic, and natural philosophy without making it look like a jumble sale. He didn’t treat magic as a museum exhibit for bored scholars. He treated it as a living system that could stand alongside science and theology.

Compare that to the 19th-century magicians who repackaged the same ideas with added theatrical flourishes and told everyone they’d invented something new. Heyden was the real deal, a bridge figure who kept the tradition alive .

Theomagica: More Than a Book

Theomagica is the blueprint for a lot of the waffle you hear in modern occult circles, but with actual depth and taken in context.

Heyden discusses the magician as a mediator between celestial forces and the material world. It’s the exact microcosm–macrocosm spiel that the Golden Dawn borrowed wholesale and incorporated into their rituals. Like Heyden, Crowley waltzed in later, sprinkled on some  poetry, and declared himself the prophet. But the cosmology he borrowed comes from the likes of Heyden.

His book is stuffed with Platonic philosophy, biblical mysticism, and the power of the stars, and unlike some later magicians, he didn’t need a thesaurus to make it look impressive.

Even Frederick Hockley, who was the Golden Dawn’s beta version, drew on Heyden when shaping his scrying techniques. And despite his endless bluster about smashing old systems, even Crowley ends up echoing Heyden’s ideas. Mathers and Westcott leaned on Heyden’s worldview, which included magical images and a hierarchy of spirits, while pretending it all came straight from the Secret Chiefs.

Inspiring the Leaders of Modern Occult Orders

Theomagica quietly made its way into esoteric circles like a stealthy initiator. It had the advantage that, being hard to find (there was a copy in the British Library and another in the United States), it could be mined without students knowing.

When the Golden Dawn was stitched together, the founders didn’t just pilfer Dee’s Enochian material and a bit of Kabbalah. They drew inspiration from writers like Heyden because they needed a philosophical foundation for their rituals.

Modern ceremonial magicians often discuss aligning with celestial forces or restoring harmony between the microcosm and the macrocosm. They’ll say it with a straight face while waving a wand they bought off Etsy. But nine times out of ten, they’re just regurgitating Heyden without even realising it.

Why He Still Matters

Heyden proves that magic isn’t just a Victorian cosplay hobby or a New Age hashtag. There’s no clean break between the Medieval magus, the Enlightenment mystic, and the Victorian ritualist. Theomagica is the missing link threads them all together.

Modern occult groups could learn a thing or two from him. For one, magic can be philosophical without being pretentious, and scientific without being soulless. Heyden didn’t need to invent a new religion or claim copyright to his name to make his work worthwhile.

There is a hidden element to Heyden that many modern or postmodern magicians never got to. For example, there is a lengthy preface that appears to be an Ancient Egyptian myth, except that all the names have been changed. In some cases, the names have been changed to Agrippa and Heyden’s spirits.  This suggests an imaginative magic system which has not been adequately developed. There is an inexplicable centre book which claims to advise “kings” and while it works reasonably well in this function, it could equally be advising advanced occultists. There are a few chapters on “dreams” which could be used to create a theurgic inner landscape for ascension.

And in an era where most magical groups can’t tell the difference between actual practice and LARPing in a black robe, returning to someone like Heyden might inject a bit of intellectual honesty back into the mix.

Going deeper

Theomagica has been out of print for centuries, and where it can be found, it is usually in a mangled, badly printed state and poorly edited in 17th-century English (with all the s’s being f’s).  I have edited a copy and posted it. It is a big book and it can be found here.

Read it with a notebook in hand and a functioning brain. Watch how he ties the heavens, the soul, and the divine into one coherent picture.

And remember: a lot of what Crowley shouted about, Mathers overcomplicated, and Westcott politely footnoted was already there, waiting in Heyden’s work.

The post John Heyden: The force behind modern occultism and rosicrucianism appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

The Geomancy of Christopher Cattan: A Medieval Divination Manual is the definitive English edition of one of Europe’s most powerful yet long-neglected magical texts.

Translated directly from the original 1550 French and carefully edited into modern English, this edition revives a masterpiece that shaped occult thought for generations. First published in France during the mid-sixteenth century and later released in English in 1591, Cattan’s treatise on the ancient art of geomancy vanished from circulation for centuries.

Yet its echoes can be found in the works of esoteric giants such as Robert Fludd, John Heydon, Francis Barrett, and Samuel Mathers of the Golden Dawn. The influence of this manual can be traced in the diaries and working notes of cunning folk across Britain, where it was once considered as indispensable as astrology.

In fact, during the Middle Ages, kings and generals were known to consult geomancers before going to war.

Christopher Cattan, a soldier of Italian descent serving in the French crown’s army, was a scholar of natural philosophy and divination whose practical knowledge of geomancy made this manual a standard reference throughout Europe. Drawing from both Arabic sources and Renaissance innovations, his work brings together method, meaning, and spiritual insight in a system once considered a cornerstone of magical practice.

This new edition restores the power and clarity of Cattan’s text, offering seasoned practitioners and curious readers a gateway into one of the most significant divinatory traditions of the Western World.

The paperback can be bought here

The hardback can be bought here

 

The post The Geomancy of Christopher Cattan: A Medieval Divination Manual out now appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

Lost Rosicrucian masterpiece Theomagica: A Temple of Wisdom returns to print after three centuries

John Hayden’s seminal 17th-century work was edited into modern English by Nick Farrell and the team at Lord Manticore Publishing House.

After more than three centuries of obscurity, Theomagica: A Temple of Wisdom by John Hayden is once again available to readers. First published in the 1600s and long out of print, this monumental text was a profound influence on the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and the Rosicrucian revivals of the 19th century.

Hayden, often regarded as the last true Rosicrucian of the English Enlightenment, synthesised strands of Hermetic philosophy, Christian mysticism, and Renaissance magic into a comprehensive vision of spiritual wisdom. His work offered a rare glimpse into the esoteric currents that shaped the intellectual landscape of the period.

The book’s influence echoed centuries later. The chiefs of the last Golden Dawn temple, Whare Ra in New Zealand, actively sought out surviving copies of Hayden’s work, aware of its significance to the Rosicrucian tradition. Until now, it has only been accessible to a few dedicated researchers in rare archives, including the copy preserved in the British Library.

Now, thanks to the meticulous efforts of author and historian Nick Farrell, Theomagica has been carefully edited and translated into clear, modern English. Farrell, known for his extensive work on Golden Dawn history and ritual, has preserved Hayden’s original meaning while making this dense and complex text approachable for today’s readers.

“This is more than just a historical curiosity,” says Farrell. “Hayden’s Theomagica reveals a living tradition of Hermetic and Rosicrucian thought that inspired some of the greatest magical orders of the modern era. Bringing it back into circulation is like uncovering a missing link in the chain of Western esotericism.”

Theomagica: A Temple of Wisdom is now available for the first time in a modern, accessible edition. Scholars of Western occultism, Golden Dawn practitioners, Rosicrucian students, and anyone interested in the intellectual history of the Enlightenment will find this an invaluable and illuminating work.

About John Hayden
John Hayden (1620–1690) was an English physician, astrologer, and mystic who bridged the worlds of science and Hermetic philosophy. His writings represent the last flowering of Rosicrucian magic before the rationalist turn of the Enlightenment pushed such studies to the margins.

About Nick Farrell
Nick Farrell is an occult historian and author known for his extensive research on the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn and Western esoteric traditions. He has published numerous books on the history, practice, and philosophy of magic.

Availability
Theomagica: A Temple of Wisdom is now available in paperback here https://www.lulu.com/shop/nick-farrell/theomagica-temple-of-wisdom/paperback/product-nv9j6pw.html?q=nick+farrell&page=1&pageSize=4

.

Later it will become available from Amazon and specialist esoteric bookshops.

 

The post Theomagica: A Temple of Wisdom  a lost Rosicrucian Classic is now available appeared first on Nick Farrell's Magical Blog.

The magical history of Britain and Ireland is an ancient and rich tapestry of influences and as old as the hills themselves. The practitioners of these traditions have gone by many names and are frequently referred as to Cunning Folk. Here, The Cunning Folk's Book of Cottage Witchcraft author Danu Forest presents an introduction to potent British Cunning Folk Magic.