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Let us talk for a moment on personal growth, and I, to reflect for the sake of this writing, on who I was before Lucifer came and Claimed me.
“I, of course, would never say the fallen are evil. I believe fallen are like many if not all people: just that, people with choices to make. I try not to judge people: that is for G-d to do.”
Reply #6 on: June 22, 2008, 11:28:10 AM
. . . That was almost painful to read.
I stumbled on this tidbit of my personal (un?) wisdom earlier today while I was mining some of my older comments this morning for writing material for this blog. I cringed. Well, maybe I more fell over and my eye started twitching. Then I stood back up and promptly decided to make my topic today about how my own personal story has changed so much in four years.
Four years may seem like a lot of time to some people, but for me, it feels like only a few short weeks ago. When I wrote that quote, my life was in shambles, and I mean that literally. I had just been treated very cruelly by a (very abusive, now obviously Ex) fiancée, whom I was broken up with at that point but still having to share a living space with due to the fact I was out of work and struggling to find a job for the day he DID finally move out. I was dealing with taking care of the finances of an elderly family member when clearly I had no mandate to do so (out of love, I did it anyway. The person in question was my grandmother, who was not being taken care of by my mother and in fact, was often the victim of Elderly Abuse), and to put the icing on the cake, less than year prior I had been in a severe car accident in which I had literally cracked the dash of my ex-fiancee’s Firebird with my forehead, the impact of which left me with moderate swelling on one side of my brain, neck and back problems, and as a found out only a week ago, a hairline fracture in one of my teeth. I was hurting physically, emotionally, and mentally. I needed to find work but realistically I had no idea how I was going to manage a retail job while I was still suffering from crippling migraines, memory loss, and back pain. In desperation, I turned to my upbringing as a Catholic and attempted to find answers with god and my spiritual background: with other angels.
What came of that was a month-and-a-half long period of very intense spiritual concentration for me. By that I mean I rededicated myself to the church. I went to mass every Sunday, took communion, read the bible every night before I went to bed, re-read all of the available catholic canon that I could find, and prayed to god every night in earnest for a solution to my awful situation. If I didn’t find a job, I spilled to him in tears one night, when my Ex moved out I wouldn’t be able to afford to keep my apartment, and I would be out on the street. My mother, despite having a guest room in her house, refused to let me stay with her (insisting that past bad experiences with my rather fly-by-the hour sister had jaded her to helping either of us, which has become a common problem in my life and my interaction with both), and the home I had before my ex-living with my Grandmother until I was 19-was out of the question, as I believed that between my involvement in her life and my mothers attempt to take over her finances would only result in more problems for my grandmother. . . well. I had no place to go. I needed help. In my desperation, I promised god everything I could think of that I thought would please him. I promised to work hard-not to expect anything of him I wasn’t willing to work for myself. I promised to study all of his rules and laws and live by them-to go to church, to pray, to put my trust in him. And then, I waited for a sign.
God was silent.
Now, allow me to interject here for a moment on what I mean by ‘silent’, because I’m sure the second I were to mention that to a Christian attempting to preach to me, they would certainly find some way to justify that silence. A test of faith, maybe to see if I was really willing to stick to my word. Or maybe god was just watching me and waiting to see if I actually meant it period. Or maybe ‘he did try to talk to me, I just missed his gentle guidance’, or some blather like that. The problem most Christians run into with me, however, when they try to vomit this stuff projectile style in my face, however, is that I’ve been hearing -and speaking to- spirits for most of my life. . .or rather for as long as I can remember. All sorts of different gods, ghosts, ancestors, land-spirits, fairy-tale beings, and everything in between. I had even spoken with Jesus in dreams, and felt his energy and so had a pretty good idea of just what that light and vibration was. No, when I say I didn’t feel anything, I mean I didn’t feel anything. Not even a glance in my direction, not even a tertiary ‘hmm’ from the Golden Throne. No, the message came in loud and clear. I was on my own.
Now, in several different ways (I’ve come to understand, over the years) I had put myself in that sort of spiritual crossroads (more like down in the dumps) situation. For one, the original reason why I had left the Catholic Church several years earlier was that it had never felt right to me to begin with, nor did any other form of Christianity. I remember once when I was 15, right before I was set to go to a large Pagan Gathering in San Fransisco, sitting in church and just getting ready to take communion. However given the event that I was about to attend with a good friend of mine (born into a pagan-accepting household), I decided it would be a good idea to get some divine feedback about my feelings. The original intent was to ask God for his advice (although now, I don’t think it was god that answered me). As I walked up the line to take communion, I put a silent request “out there” into the ethers. If I’m not meant to be here, I silently called, then please, give me a sign.
No less than 24 hours later, I came down with the worst case of Strep Throat I’ve ever had, and completely lost my voice. Not to mention I had to take enough painkillers to knock me into a coma for virtually my whole pagan-pals vacation.
I should have stopped pursuing it right then and there, of course, but I was never very good about taking hints. . . I’m sort of a ditz that way. For a while, I did take that sign at face value. I stopped going into church, started exploring alternative spirituality, even though I did still continue to attend youth group with my best friend at the time, named Promise. I still couldn’t leave a more ‘fringe’ aspect of Christianity all together, and that was my obsession and fascination with Angels. Of course later on I started remembering my past existence and (I thought, at the time) my reason for being on earth. . . of course once those memories started coming back, it made me even more confused and conflicted about being Pagan vs. being Angelkin, and I wasn’t sure how the two would ever come to work harmonically with one another. My ex, of course, used this as fuel to relentlessly mock me. Every time something would go wrong in our life (Luck of the Irish, as I call it), he would snidely remark, “Where’s your god now?” or make more broad attempts to shove darker, esoteric magics in my face. I steadfastly refused and rebuked him, and even took it upon myself to try to whether the torment like a “good christian” would. I promised myself I wasn’t going to give up on god no matter how much drek everyone else shoved in my face, and I wasn’t going to dignify my ex’s mocking with so much as a fevered lecture of the merits of ,my faith itself. I just went on quietly with my God and Angelic Sociology ™ studies, and did my best to ignore everything else.
The problem was, it was a lie, and the whole time, the truth was staring me right in the face. In High School, another good friend of mine (whom for the sake of this blog I’ll simply refer to as Vi) and I started what was at first a simple form of between-class entertainment, called “The Notebooks”, in which both original (verse) characters and characters from various fan-verses we dabbled in came together and swapped dialogue before classes, at lunch, and after school. One of these characters, named Aman, appeared in Vi’s notebook early on but very quickly moved to mine and became a regular ‘face’ about. As soon as he started talking to me, though, it was very apparent that he was different from any of the other personalities that conversed on spiral-bound pages. The character moved very fluidly through the different periods in my life. . and though his face changed several times, his personality and his affluence, dignity, pride and grace did not. He was a spiritual mentor, companion, and guide for me for several years. I fell in love with this voice, and for years, Aman was my muse and my inspiration. He was very open about being “Hebrew” and having a love for God, but at the same time, never seemed to have any praise for God to sing, nor a prayer to utter or a hymn to be said. Any time I asked, he very tactfully avoided the subject and instead would turn to questions of my own faith. Aman had very pointed ways of making me think about my own involvement with the Powers that Be (PTB) and was also very adamant that I continue with any passionate pursuance of any personal spiritual path that I found intriguing, or fulfilling. I should have listened. I should have understood that maybe it was the wrong voice I was looking to hear. Hindsight 20/20.
In the midst of that yawning void that seemed to be my life in the summer of 2008, following the visit of two friends from out of town (come to support me through the breakup, and witness for themselves the treatment my Ex hurled my way), I sank deeper and deeper into depression. The job market was bad: I couldn’t find work, couldn’t afford to go back to school, bodily and emotionally I was hurt, mentally I was exhausted. I was in a very dark place and literally teetering on the edge of just wanting to end it all when I finally heard Lucifer’s voice rise out of the void to console me.
He didn’t promise riches, or glory, or fame, or any of that nonsense. His voice was comforting, cool, and familiar. He said, he would take everything that I had offered up to God-a willingness to work hard, a devotion to him and his tenants (a hex on the book, he said, although he rather admired Milton’s Paradise Lost. . .), and a dedication to be his eternal servant. He’d remembered me, he said. Remembered our interactions in the past, and he wouldn’t see one of his own suffer in the way I’d been made to. In return for my service, he said, he would be there for me, help make my dreams real, and help me to grow past and out of the circumstances I’d been cast into.
I was worried and wary of insulting him. . . and my catholic nature at the time nearly made me run screaming for the hills. I told him I’d think about it. What was the catch? I asked him. His answer: my soul. I would be his, and I would be his servant forever. What else did I expect of him?
I was naturally terrified. Satan was talking to me. Satan was literally offering me peace at the cost of my soul. . . this was the sort of thing every major spiritual text I’d ever read about had warned against. Every spiritual system I’d really studied with any depth had said ‘when they come offering you paradise for your soul, it’s a trap’. That I had even attracted that kind of attention bothered me. In desperation for answers, I turned back to god, and found that same agonizing silence yet again. I’d never felt so lost.
Then one day after my ex had left, I was sitting alone in my house. I still hadn’t found any work. My situation was getting more dire, and the only thing anchoring me to the world was the thought of who would feed my overly lazy 80lb greyhound. I cried myself to sleep several times that whole week, and I hardly ate, or slept. Instead I woke up only long enough to shower, scribble thoughts in my journal, take some sleeping pills, and fall back again into the dark nothingness. I didn’t even dream those days, which is rare for me. I was in bad shape.
Then, one evening, I did dream. In my dream, I walked across a red landscape. The earth was parched and cracked and a storm blew red sand around my bare ankles. I walked over the sharp, dry mud of my dreamscape, to a twiggy, sharply angled tree off in the distance. It was black and looked almost dead but for the very ripe, full red apples that hung from its branches on fragile stems. There was a white serpent in the tree. . . a large constrictor, and it slithered through the branches and seemed to look at me with those red eyes, as if to say, ‘have you thought about what I’ve offered you?’
“I’m afraid.” I answered. “I’m afraid of you.”
“You would be a fool if you weren’t.” a whisper hissed in my ear.
” How do I know I won’t go to hell?” I muttered, and stood there shaking. ” How do I know that I’m not going to burn, like they all say I will? How do I know I won’t burn and have to watch everything I love burn, because I sold you my soul?”
“You don’t.” the hissing voice tickled my ear. A cool breeze suddenly tickled my neck with my hair, and brought relief from the horrible desert heat. “You will always have to live in doubt. They will always tell you I am deceiving you, lying to you. You will be in danger all of the rest of your existence, for claiming my name. Everything you love will be in danger. That is the price you pay for walking this path.”
“It’s hard.” I said, and felt tears sting my eyes. ” I don’t know if I’m strong enough. I don’t know if I even know how to trust any more.”
Then, the hissing voice that answered back slowly became more substantial. Like a smooth, low tenor humming over the wind. ” Then you’ll have to take me at my word that I will stand with you. Nothing worth having was ever easy to obtain. Especially freedom.”
I looked to see where the source of the voice was coming from, towards the tree. I expected to see the snake. Instead, I saw Aman.
My eyes widened. My jaw dropped. ” You!” was all I could manage to say.
“Yes.” he smiled, slowly. Carefully. “ I was with you all this time.”
I don’t remember much more of the dream afterwards, but it wasn’t long after that that I formally made my vows to Lucifer’s service, and he formally claimed me as his. He told me he’d been trying for years and more years-though different incarnations across space and time to find me, and that when he had, he’d done desperate and sometimes, awful things to attempt to get my attention. He told me he needed a spirit-worker, a voice on earth, a healer for people who wanted to come to him. Other Angelics that were lost as I had been, disillusioned with the Golden Throne “back home”, and people in general who wanted to know, truly, who he was and what his story was about. Of course, I suppose in some ways, I had always known Aman was My Lord. . the way I loved and adored him came from more than just casual feelings for a character in a story. It came from deep spiritual roots and history. Once I was consciously aware that they were connected, of course, I made the choice to accept his offer. Love is a crazy thing, anyway.
Four years later, I don’t regret it at all. I’ve since come into new opinions about Heaven, Hell, God and the Devil, and the whole social, political, and spiritual aspects about both (or all) kingdoms, but the way I feel about Lucifer and my desire to please him has never waned. The hardest days for me are when I meet or stumble on others who even come close to understanding who Lucifer actually is, or how he allows himself to be seen as he does with me, and I of course get very jealous. I say stupid things to him. Mostly he just listens un-apologetically and then soothes me afterwards. Very rarely does he punish me, although we had a spat a couple of weeks ago, and very (un) coincidentally, a hairline fracture in my tooth that had happened in the car accident back in 07′ swelled up and caused me so much pain that I literally couldn’t talk for a week. The oral surgeons and dentists were very perplexed as to why there was ‘no evidence of decay or trauma’ to the tooth even after I told them about the accident (“There’s no decay. Did you hit your face on something? No?” “Well, maybe in a car accident like four years ago.” “O.O”). I took it as a sign that clearly I’d overstepped my bounds and Lucifer was telling me very not-so-subtly to shut my mouth or he’d shut it for me. I also took it as another sign that I had tested even his patience one-too-many times. Even now, though, I can’t help but smile about it. I only hope that I’m the spiritual servant that he is most pleased with, even if I can be a pain in the ass. I like to hop e, maybe in vain, that he also finds it refreshing that I keep him on his toes.
As of this writing, I am a year into my career as an Emergency Medical Technician, and having just finished and graduated the Fire Academy-working as a volunteer Firefighter and already beginning my hunt for a career department. In a month I start doing internships and ride-alongs with the Lifeflight helicopter crew at our local hospital. Lucifer has a great respect and admiration for the medical arts, and it was at his suggestion that I pursue this career path. Not only has it taught me very amazing things about the human body and that particular branch of science (pharmacology FASCINATES ME), but it has also literally taught me how to brave flames and temperatures as high as a thousand degrees Fahrenheit, in tight dark spaces that would make even most men pee themselves in fear. It’s taught me critical thinking and grace under pressure (the one sill with the job that I still struggle with, mind you), honor, duty, courage and sacrifice, determination, hard work, patience, ambition and most importantly, a sense of self-worth, which was destroyed after a lifetime with an abusive family and years with an abusive ex. I’m now happily married to a partner that I love, in a place of my own, with a career that I am eager to get up and work in each day, and proud of. I have a lot, because I had the encouragement and push to be the best I could be. And I credit Lucifer for all of that.
So in conclusion, when I go back to that sentence and see where I was then, I see a lot of things. Someone who is lost, someone who is blind and grasping at straws, someone who has nothing and no idea but to mindlessly repeat what they’ve been told, from day one. Someone who is only pretending at faith but has no idea what it really means to have to work for, or defend it. It’s a past me, and one that was darker. I didn’t know Lucifer then, didn’t know service to him, didn’t feel as if I had a purpose or a cause or a path. Just feeling in the dark.
This is why Lucifer is the Mourning Star. His light is not brilliant and blinding, but rather, is a gentle shimmer in the night sky, a quiet, calm pull in one direction that leads those who would follow it on a journey to amazing things. Even the wise men followed a star to Jesus Christ. It is not a loud bellow of trumpets and screeching hymns that some of us need to find our way. There are those of us who operate best under the cover of night, with only a pinpoint drop on the velvet blackness to remind us that someone watches, and someone gives a damn. If that’s damnation, then I’ll take it. For me, though, it’s faith. It’s my faith, and a part of what makes me who I am.
To Guns N’Roses “Sweet Child of Mine”. I am eternally amused.
So for folks that don’t know, I have a small polymer pendant of a white snake with red eyes that I wear. . . you know. White serpents being sacred to Lu and all. I got it a couple of weeks ago, having stumbled on it by accident on Etsy (and going AHHAITSPERFECT). I’ve been looking for a pendant to represent my path work for a long time now, and having found this one, it’s become very important to me. As in, I only take it off when I shower (because it’s made of clay, I don’t want to ruin it by soaking it). It’s definitely got an energy all its’ own. I had the intention to formally call one of Lucifer’s ilk and my loaned spirit assistants to reside in it and act as a force inside the actual pendant itself, but I rather think there was already an eager helper waiting for the chance. This guy totally has a personality all his own. He’s unobtrusive, watchful, but curious.
So imagine to my surprise when I walked into a dark room this evening. . . and noticed my pendant glowing! Turns out the artist used glow-in-the-dark paint for the faint striping on this little guy. Talk about being the perfect pendant! Just a faint light, but enough to stand out in the darkness. Illumination. Wow.
Well played, Lucifer, my Lord. And well played, little snake spirit, and well played to the universe all around. I finally found a match.
Begin.
A storm was moving in with a deluge.
Herr god, Herr Lucifer,
Not concious of having wept, whips out a knife
and slices into two handfuls of white dirt
One from a lucid urn of starry dew,
the other an extraordinarily mercurial thing,
soaked in the sea for six days
Then, sets it ablaze.
Still spinning,
this goes on for weeks.
Visions that evolve life-like forms,
self awareness, not in a moment but in something greater.
Then, the two meet up.
Shifting, breathing,
Alive, dead.
Both standing and fallen.
“Come hither,” he says, and the same wind sang.
Before he walks away with his
two models.
It begins with a bow, and then a gaze
Languid lips in mad trance strike
Entwined carnally
The folds and ripples
in the sheet
like something not quite like a human bing.
“This is my commandment. That you love together,
as I have loved you.”
As part of my strict coming-down on myself regarding my pathwork and my devotion to Lucifer (and to writing about it in particular), I’ve been opening the floor in some places regarding question of my practice, as sort of a way to kick of various different posts and essays and really get me thinking about how best to approach topics of my faith. This entry comes as a response to one of those questions. Of course I encourage questions such as these, and even the challenging ones offer me a chance to learn and grow in my work. So thank you, to everyone who posted these questions, and I will be taking the time to address them individually to give them the attention they deserve.
The first question I’ve taken out of order, but it’s a starting point, and one of the best I’ve found. Listenwithopeneyes has asked,” Why were you chosen? And does your position cary from others who have been chosen by other dieties?”
Complex question, too, and it doesn’t have an easy answer. I could, of course, quote back the line I was given. ” I need you,” is what Lucifer told me when I asked him the very same thing. It may sound like a fairy-tale happy ending sort of response, but by just putting a one-liner out there, I’m really not explaining anything am I? The whole situation is a little bit more complicated then that.
Before I dive into this one foot further, I feel there’s something I have to make known, and get out of the way here on this blog. That is, I do not believe in God-Forms, nor do I believe in Gods as manifestations of the psyche/collective unconscious/ect. I do not believe that every god is the same god with a different name/mask/ect. “Gods”, to me, cannot have their divine energy poured in another glass and called something different. A Bloody Mary will, 99.9% of the time, be drastically different than an Irish Coffee, no matter what cup you put in in. In other words, I believe that every god/dess is their own god/dess, and although I think some *do*, have and can walk across pantheons, I don’t believe in archetype worship. I feel this devalues and depersonalizes the gods and makes them into one mass-market mold appropriate for a majority-not a focus for intense personal worship as when they have clear and distinct personalities, likes and dislikes, moods, opinions, ect. Just like normal people do. And while I don’t have a problem with people who approach polytheism and god-worship this way, please know and understand I approach every god as if they were their own person, not an all encompassing mother/father/sister/daughter/cousin/hero/antihero/villain figure. This may be a difficult idea for some people to grasp. I’ve encountered many pagans over the years who scoff at the idea that gods can, and do, interact with people across the board, and they have wants, needs and desires as complex (and a lot of the time, much more so!) as ourselves, and so rather then have a clear-cut moralistic set of boundries, often have many shades of gray, as do people. I also feel this makes them more approachable. This is not to say we can always grasp or understand their machinizations, but I also think it helps us be a bigger part of the spirit world when we understand and realize we have the ability to activly communicate with that world, as opposed to saying a prayer and “having faith” that everything turns out ok. It may take guts to have a large set of hopes, and putting them up there in the big sky, but also consider what it means to have a god say ” Well sure, I’ll give you X, but I expect Y from you first.” . . with this idea comes the other idea that there is no such thing as a free lunch. Spiritual boons have to be worked for, earned, negotiated (or even in the case of some daring spiritworkers/shamans, bullied) or haggled for. It may be inconvenient at times, but it’s honest, at the very least.
Now, with that windy disclaimer out of the way. . .
Why was I chosen? I’ll admit when I first saw this question, I was a little intimidated. I thought about saying something along the lines of “Well I wasn’t chosen, I’m no more special than joe blow down the street. . .” but I realized it would be disingenuous. I take two risks here, and weighing them in equal measure puts me in a spot. I can lie and try to lessen myself in the eyes of my readers and those interested in my practice (and mind you, I’ve no moral qualms about lying when I need to-but I’ll cover that more, later. It’s a taboo, but not in the way you’d think), or suck it up, swallow the truth and probably make myself look like a vain, conceited know it all. Well, given that Self-Delusion is the ultimate form of sin in my practice, guess which one I’m going for? Conceited, it is.
I was chosen, specifically, because I’m a dreamer. I speak both literally and figurativly here. My dreams are very vivid-always have been since I was a child-and so it’s very easy for entities to communicate with me this way. I’m also a very intuitive person, and although I wouldn’t say I have “the sight” or even “the ears”-I can’t see or hear ‘spirits’ worth squat, I just kind of know when they’re there. I get impressions, feelings, sometimes flashes of dialogue in my waking life. At night, though, I get whole, 3d, in the action full color movies. And I can almost always remember every dream I have at night (most nights I seem to have about 4 or five that I recall, although I’ve counted as many as twelve). The other part of this is that I have a very very good imagination, and because of this, I have a very open mind that interprets fantastical elements very well. I’m also an animist, in that I believe, much like the story of The Velveteen Rabbit, that if you put enough feeling into something: be it a story, and object, or a place, and then enough emotion-be it love, hate, sorrow, ect-that eventually, it takes on an energy, and then a life, all it’s own. To ice the cake, I also believe that every act of imagination is also an act of creation-and just by pondering the existence of an alternate reality, or a universe, we actually create it. Therefore, I am usually (about 80% of the time) profoundly aware that just by living, I am profoundly affecting the reality of the universe(s) around me. I dream things into being, and I think that that vibrancy is something Lucifer-and many other gods these days, who seem to be once again claiming people on various different levels for various different reasons-are so desperately looking for. Who can say why? Not me. That’s how it was explained to me, though. I am a dreamer, I can create things because I desire to-and have the emotional investment capabilities to sustain them. It brings a base, fundamental sort of framework of magic back to this world: something it direly needs, I’m told.
While technology and singular religious structure has brought many good things to the world for man, it has also set us back. Consider how little we grow as a species when we are only so focused on ourselves and not our fellow man. We don’t care who has access to affordable healthcare, as long as we do. We don’t care about the Styrofoam cup we just tossed out the window, we don’t have to clean it up. We take responsibility off of our own shoulders and burden others with the responsibility: either “lesser” man, not born to the same station as we, or the future generations. Meanwhile, our children suffer, our planet suffers, our race suffers. And even though the universe have every means of putting an end to us any time it so chooses, we continue on living lives where corrupt prey on the honest, hard work is shadowed by chance of birth, and our leaders have access to the best of doctors while others of us live in pain or in fear of the next big accident breaking our banks and leaving us unable to feed our children. And while on a grand scale we can do nothing against this-at least not now-the gods have been watching, and the gods are not pleased. Yes, man has always had warfare: for land, for offspring, for the pecking order. So too, however, do we have the capacity to realize these things and make a conscious decision to be considerate: to make hings better for ourselves, our children. Where all life is treated as something sacred. Whereas science and quantum theory tell us that its very likely that there is other life in the (our) universe, we’ve not yet encountered any other benevolent species, and indeed, looking back on human history, even if there were others “out there”, could you blame them for keeping away? All we have to do is take a good, solid look at the colonization of the early United States to see what we do when we venture out to make “new friends”. Before we can even begin to branch out and go new places as a race, as a species, we first have to “take care of things here at home”. The first step in that is knowing and understanding ourselves, and the impact we have not just on the world around us, but on the universe at large. Having the ability to see and understand these sorts of problems, and work to adjust our spirituality and morals to make room for these new ideas, is where it really starts. We have to adjust our thinking. Dreamers, says Lucifer, are the Linchpins in this system. It’s the dreamers that perceive these possibilities. Like a doorway opened in a hot, dark dusty room, they are a breath of fresh air to the world; doorways themselves, to Otherworlds, to Other Ways.
Yes, I’m aware of how frightening that sounds. It brings to my mind the recent movie The Mist, in which a whole bunch of townspeople, huddled together in a grocery store surrounded by thick fog which contains many horrifying monsters. When a confrontation ensues later between the townspeople and government officials, it is revealed that some scientists up on a mountain were attempting to find a “window” into another world, but inadvertently ended up opening a “door”, which spilled the monsters out. The Fundamentalist character then screeches that the monsters are a plague from god sent to earth through the “doorway” to punish people for daring to tamper with his creation. Now Stephen King is known to have no love for Christianity either, but here we see an idea that is soaked in humanity played out wonderfully on the big screen. To seek to know is a sin. All that can come of it is misery, horror, sorrow. It’s something to be condemned, both in ourselves and in our fellow man. If we do tamper with “nature” in order to grow, to learn, to see into other places and understand other beings, we invite punishment, retribution. “Enlightenment”, says the fundamentalist slant of Christianity, comes with a high price, for it is only god who is allowed to know such things. It is only god who is permitted to be a creator, made in his image though we are said to be.
I feel like Lucifer chose me because I have the potential to grasp these things. . . and also have the potential, nay the ability, to live as a master of my own life. To accept responsibility for my own successes, and failures. To move past an illusion-the way things seem to be, to see into what they could be, and live my life accordingly. Paradoxically, this means trusting his sentiments on the whole thing, and Lucifer is a trickster as well as an artisan and teacher. That, however, is an essay for another time. For now, Lucifer’s only creed is that I be a master of my own dreams, and have a full life for them. Which is much easier said than done, but again: a story for another time.
How does this path compare to others who do similar work with other deities? I honestly can’t say. I leave every person to their own gnosis: they walk their path, I walk mine. Speaking with other Shamans, spirit-workers, god-owned/slaved/espoused is always a fascinating experience, but in the end, their journey is unique to them. However, I will say this, and getting back to a conceited disclaimer. . . I know a lot of pagan and lightworker books strait out of the new-age section will tell you every single person on the face of this planet can do magic, and every single one of them is capable of magic. While I believe to some loosely interpreted sense of the concept this is true, I also beleive that there are some people who are just hardwired, wither by the universe or the gods themselves, to fill a pre-desitined service role. I beleive that I am one of those people, among several other spirit-workers I’ve come to know over time. This doesn’t make anyone better than anyone else, any more than being picked for Jury Duty makes you special. It’s just a job that sometimes needs to be done, and only some people’s numbers get picked, or randonly rolled, or however it works. So. That said, I have a great respect for other spirit workers. All of us walk a different way, but the stories are always facinating.
That said, and with a final note on the same subject. . . other spiritworkers who associate themselves with Lucifer, I have a harder time with. This doesn’t mean that I can’t be on good terms with them-I have done so in the past and can do so again in the future-but as per my last post on this blog, I am a vain, spiteful creature and so am easily roused to jealousy when it comes to Lucifer. I generally don’t speak with other workers on the same pitch as me. Our energies clash and sizzle and despite how it sounds, it’s not a pretty sight. I judge other devoutees of my god very harshly and to a very high standard. . and I often find myself dissapointed. This ties into my personal gnosis regarding my Lord, which I will eventually come to elaborate on.
So, Listenwithopeneyes. There you have it. I hope I was able to answer that to a good enough degree for you, and if not, let me know and I’ll try my best to clarify any fuzzy bits for you. Same goes for everyone else. Thanks for the question!
Fascinating. It seems I’m not the only person who worships Lucifer who doesn’t drink soda! Color me intrigued. . .
Mind you, I can have it, just only on rare occasion. Sorta like a treat. . only one I only get once or twice every other month or so. In general, way back in the day when Lucifer came and made with the ganking, that was one of the first things he told me had to go. No more soda. When I do drink it, normally, it’s a sprite. I think the last time I had a coke was like. . .oh. Three months ago?
Still very interesting to me. I wonder what it is. One of Lucifer’s very first stipulations on my person was that fast food was out (which he promptly beat me over the head for about a week ago, I’ve been eating out way more than I should, which is what kicked me into doing my current Low calorie, High Protein [Firefighter] diet), healthier food in. In general, the idea was to have very little processed food, but that’s HARD. Eventually he settled on less junk food, more fruits (veggies, I’m not so fond of) and grains/nuts/ect. He let me keep my beloved seafood and my chocolate. Thanks the stars.
I know the reason why he doesn’t like soda has to do with the chemicals in it. . . but again. I thought this was a rather interesting thing another Luciferian and I have in common. I’ll have to keep an eye out for more of these, when they pop up. Having a list of these sorts of in-common things would be very handy indeed. . .
As I’m sitting here debating on the best way to begin this blog. . . and believe me, I’m debating. . I’ve decided that until I even have a vague idea of where to start, there are some quick (or maybe not so quick) things that bear mentioning here on this blog. If you honestly plan to come here with any sort of frequency, there are a couple of things that you need to understand. I *do* imagine that later on, this will become and informative sticky somewhere on this blog. Until it does, however, lets start from square one with what this blog and my practice is/isn’t, and hopefully clear up a few misconceptions, here.
~What it is~
1. My spiritual path, my faith, my personal gnosis. However, it is just that. Personal. I do not expect that everyone will agree with my versions of the tales that will be presented, nor understand some of them, anyway, as this blog will contain both my personal observations and experiences working with Lucifer AND information and such to interested passer-by, regular readers, or even potential students of Lucifer’s. That is OK with me. I encourage you to ask questions and participate here. That’s what I made this blog for. What I do NOT encourage you to do, however (and if fact, warn you quite strongly against) is mock, berate, or otherwise belittle my spiritual work or my god. I will never ever EVER prosthelyzse (sp?) or preach to you-that is not my place. I am not here to convince you of Lucifer’s greatness nor convert you to my way of thinking, and you are free to come and go at any time you wish. However, this IS a sacred place. Here Lucifer is My Lord, and this is an extension of service to him. You are expected to respect that, or you will be reported as a problem and not permitted to come here and speak anymore. It’s an earned privilege, not a right.
2. A lifestyle. I am not just claiming Lucifer as a patron: in fact, it was the other way around. Lucifer chose me (with a rather stern tone in his voice) to call his servant on earth, much in the same style as The Oracle at Delphi or some brands of “Shaman” ( I put that in quotes because it largely depends on your idea of what a shaman is, and of which type you speak). Lucifer has very few Taboos and Laws on my person-naturally, he is a very limitless deity. . . but what scarce few he does place on me, and the direction in which he does influence my life, I take very seriously. Lucifer has dictated both my professional career as a Firefighter/Emergency Medical Technician, and my private studies in energetic healing and spirit work. In addition to this, he is also very adamant I continue my artistic career. All in all, this makes me a very busy (sometimes, very stressed out/burnt out!) person. What this means for you is that you simply cannot tell me to “drop” these things or “abandon” these parts of my life. Not only is it disrespectful just as a point, but it’s also more damaging to me than the stress itself could be. My life was miserable before I heeded my call, and I’ve no desire to have Lucifer’s quiet light out of my life again. Those were very dark times for me, and I’d die before I went back. Period. And that’s my final word on that.
3. Lucifer as a Bearer of Knowledge and Illumination, and also as a patron of Medical Arts. Please continue reading the blog.
4. A place to ask questions. Please, do. I encourage you to. If you see a topic that you’d like to discuss, see a picture that is relevant to this blog, or have something you’d like me to cover, please email me or comment and let me know. I’d love to touch on it for you, as long as your respectful.
~What it is NOT~
1. Satanism, of any sort. Myself and my practice are what could be called, with some similarities, Gnostic Luciferian. However, this is not the limit of my belief structure. Nor do I believe that Lucifer is the evil figure that the Christian Paradigm seems to have him pegged as, even tough Lucifer is never named the Devil in The Bible. There is no evil here, unless the only evil you may see is in not being Christian. There’s no black mass, no black robes, animal sacrifice, dark chanting, or harming of children. Ever. Period. I am mandated as a healthcare provider to report child abuse to the authorities, I love animals and can’t even squash a spider in my bathtub without feeling horribly guilty for it, and black isn’t even a sacred color to Lucifer, anyway, so it’s a moot point. If Satanism, theistic or no, is what you came here looking for, please move on. In my practice, Lucifer is a bearer of Gentle Illumination, a force of knowledge, the opposition of blind ignorance. If that bothers you, then you’re not in the right place.
2. An invitation for you to preach. Just don’t do it here, please. Ever. I’ll mark you as a spammer if you do. I was raised in a Lutheran household, then later, as an Irish Catholic. Yes, I’ve read the book, no, I’m not interested. Yes, if I’m damned, I’d rather be damned for living a truth then saved for living a lie. Or in prosthelyzing (sp?) Christian speak, I’m a lost cause. I’ve given my soul to Lucifer in a solid black-and-white fine print and all contract, and for me, yes, it is unthinkable to rescind that agreement. So if you came here to save me, yes, I will be insulted. And yes, I do believe hexing is acceptable in certain circumstances, so, please. Don’t push my patience. Just move on. You’ll have better luck elsewhere.
3. Look who’s the better godatheaow/godspouse/devotee/ect. I don’t care how hot you think you are wherever you think you are. You don’t automatically get respect here because of that: you have to earn it. Also, I am a very jealous sort over service to my god. . .so if you’re looking to impress me by telling me you’re another one of Lucifer’s wives/BFFS/claimed/housemates/ect, you are already putting one foot in the quicksand, and you’re about to start sinking. I am not the person to buddy-buddy with if you want to share stories about you and Lucifer’s astral sex life/picnics/morning coffee/ect. I am a vain, selfish, spiteful creature, and I am not above being cruel and turning the spite on you if you act a fool in your supposed relationship to him. Regardless of if you feel it’s true or not, I feel a duty to Lucifer’s name and if you dishonor it and then try to offer me an apple, I’ll shine it on my shirt and offer it back with something extra in the manner that would make Snow White’s wicked stepmother look like a saint. You’ve been warned.
(This is not to say that I can’t get along with other Luciferians or people who work with him: obviously, I can and have. But if you’re being an idiot about using his name, we’re not going to get along, and I’ll call you on it. Period.)
4. A nice place for Christians. I’m sorry, but I must be straightforward with this. I am not christian. It is my belief that the Christian God has perpetuated many crimes against the individual, humanity and even his Angels as a whole. Lies and demands for blind loyalty and faith run contrary to my own taboo of self-deception. I believe that by placing the blame on another figure for our woes, we take responsibility for those woes out of our own hands and instead ‘pray’ for them to get ‘better’ without putting hardly an effort into it. Also, I have seen much hypocrisy in Christianity and I can’t stand it. I’ve seen “good” Christians beat their wives, protest a child’s funeral, berate a single mother, and damned another who has had an abortion for not keeping the child when neither would have had any quality of life. No, my feelings on these issues are not so single-minded, but as The Boondock Saints put it best, ” True Evil is the indifference of so called “Good Men” “, and I’ve never heard a statement truer of any group I have ever met. This is not to say I won’t like you because you are christian-I have met several very generous, loving, patient Christians who do good by their faith. . . but for every one good, honest christian I have met, I’ve met 10 hateful, spiteful, bigoted ones, and to me, it’s a lie propagated by the religions deity. Therefore, if that idea bothers you, then you may want to continue on. I have no love for the christian god. Jesus I have no problem with, as a note. That idea will be spoken about later in this blog. But there you have it.
. . .Please keep in mind that I have a right to change or modify this list as needed, and I’m sure there will be more, and for right now, I’m just missing something, or not thinking of it, ect. As it is, I’ll probably think of plenty of other things over the next couple of days that need saying. Also, if I missed something that any of you older folks that have been around me for a while know for a fact, please tell me so I can put it here. Thanks so much, and welcome to my blog.
O, Mourning Star. . . 