A few weeks ago I was speaking with a friend and teacher about recent experiences that I had had. They pointed me to a particular vision of Crowley’s known as the Star Sponge. I have posted it below.
THE “STAR-SPONGE” VISION There is a vision of a peculiar character which has been of cardinal importance in my interior life, and to which constant reference is made in my magical diaries. So far as I know, there is no extant description of this vision anywhere, and I was surprised on looking through my records to find that I had given no clear account of it myself. The vision developed gradually. It was repeated on so many occasions that I am unable to say at what period it may be called complete. I was on a retirement in a cottage overlooking Lake Pasquaney in New Hampshire. I lost consciousness of everything but a universal space in which were innumerable bright points, and I realized this as a physical representation of the universe, in what I may call its essential structure. I exclaimed, “Nothingness with twinkles!” I concentrated upon this vision, with the result that the void space which had been the principal element of it diminished in importance; space appeared to be ablaze, yet the radiant points were not confused, and I thereupon completed my sentence with the exclamation, “but what twinkles!” The next stage of this vision led to an identification of the blazing points with the stars of the firmament, with ideas, souls, etc. I perceived also that each star was connected by a ray of light with each other star. In the world of ideas each thought possessed a necessary relation with each other thought; each such relation is of course a thought in itself; each such ray is itself a star. It is here that the logical difficulty first presents itself. The seer has a direct perception of infinite series. Logically, therefore, it would appear as if the entire space must be filled up with a homogeneous blaze of light. This however is not the case. The space is completely full and yet the monads which fill it are perfectly distinct. The ordinary reader might well exclaim that such statements exhibit symptoms of mental confusion.
I found this vision bearing a striking resemblance to my own experience.
Over the recent Aethyr visions, I have been comparing mine to Duncan Barford’s and Crowley’s, separated from my own by about 10 and 100 years respectively. Though none have been exact matches, I have found incredible similarities between all three of our experiences.
My own visions have been heavily influenced by my personal life and things going on within it. Sometimes even the sounds around me in the room become part of the vision. Other times something interrupts my attempts and I’m left to give up and try another time. Even just today, my scrying attempt was thwarted by almost immediately falling into a dreamless sleep, despite not realizing I was tired beforehand. And yet, they still seem to match up in ways that I find meaningful, even though I knew nothing of the content of Duncan’s or Crowley’s beforehand.
But there are others still whose experiences do not match up. Or perhaps I might see meaningful parallels, and they might not. You yourself may read my visions and the comparisons which I draw and not find them related in the slightest.
What I make of this is that there are many, perhaps infinite, paths to the Divine. I was drawn to a particular current and had the choice to resist or to allow the flow to take me where it may. It was part of a specific tradition, with specific features, and despite not knowing what any of them were I dove in head first. Others may sail these waters of magick, or they may find their own route, but I KNOW that this was the correct one for me to follow. It carries me past the exact right appearances at the exact right time to deliver exactly what each experience should be.
And it has not always been easy. It ebbs and flows like the tide. Sometimes the magick seems overwhelming and like anything I do effortlessly manifests. Other times it is a rough path which threatens to dash unwary travelers against the rocks as it pulls them along its rapids, and every movement feels like a struggle to stay afloat. This past month has been the latter, as I’ve been dragged through shadow after shadow and forced to confront them. If you want to be with the Goddess in the Underworld, you must accept that it is a journey through Hell to arrive there.
But the magick, the wonder, the mystery, is always there. It has become an undeniable feature of life, as present in every moment as my own awareness. And looking back at the path which brought me here, it was always a feature, I just did not always know how to see it. It was never really a choice, because I was saying “yes” to this for the whole of my existence. Turning away from it was never an option, because that was never a decision I would make, even completely unconsciously.
So as the skies clear from this recent storm, I look forward to the change in the weather with infinite optimism because, as difficult as this path can get, I know where it leads:
Home.
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