
I was delighted to receive, via yesterday's mail, my hardback author's copies of
The Life Force Workbook, the last of the seven volumes in the Golden Section Fellowship sequence. This volume rounds out a project that I first sketched out in the mid-1990s, and originally tried to get started in 2001. t's been a long and rocky road since then, with plenty of delays and one bitter disappointment, which adds more than a little to the sense of satisfaction I feel now. Now that it's complete, I want to talk a little bit about what it is, why it's so important a project to me, and why it offers the decidedly quirky take on occultism that it does.

When I first began studying occultism in the 1970s, the field embraced a giddy exuberance of subjects and themes. Magic and divination, which have come to be treated as the be-all and end-all of occult studies in more recent years, rubbed shoulders with the whole panoply of alternative perspectives: lost continents, ley lines, yoga, breathing exercises, fad diets, natural healing methods, radionics, pyramid power, and the list just keeps on going. Some of this was straight-up quackery, but there was a lot that wasn't; some of it was seriously useful, and a lot more was at least entertaining.

The 1980s brought retrenchment in that as in so many fields. In place of the wild diversity of perspectives of the previous decade, a particular mode of pop-culture Neopaganism (the version promoted so efficiently by Margot Adler, Starhawk, et al.) seized the collective imagination, and became something of a mental monoculture in what was left of the alternative scene; very nearly the only alternative history that mattered any more, for example, was the one in which the Pope personally burned nine million witches at the stake in Salem. (I exaggerate for effect, but only a little.) Outside the Neopagan movement, ceremonial magic became a central interest; this had impressive upsides, notably the revival of the Golden Dawn tradition and the beginning of serious work on translating and republishing older occult texts, but it also involved a dramatic narrowing of options.

It was during this period, in the mid-1990s, that I first started brooding over the idea of a system of occult training and self-initiation that embraced at least a few of the themes of the broader field of the 1970s. I was already moving toward the fringes of the scene -- I'd put in most of two decades on Golden Dawn ceremonial magic by then, but I'd moved from there to studying the teachings of the Order of Bards Ovates and Druids, a Druid Revival order that embodied some of the older vision, which got me plenty of hate from the Celtic Reconstructionist faction of the Neopagans. I started collecting some of the books that had influenced me earlier in my studies; and I started to explore the possibility that occult training could be done using bodies of lore that weren't restricted to magic, divination, and dancing around in a circle stark naked while chanting "We All Come From The Goddess" and hoping to get laid. ;-)

At the time I was also in the middle of my first serious studies of sacred geometry, and all that coalesced into a series of spiritual experiences where I saw a sequence of geometrical forms as the basis for a divination oracle and the foundation of a way of occult training. That became the basis of
The Sacred Geometry Oracle, and it would have become the basis for a complete system along the lines of the current Golden Section Fellowship...except for one awkward little detail. The publisher I worked with in those days did editorial and marketing decisions via committee, and when
The Sacred Geometry Oracle came before the committee, one of the members had just watched the movie
The Matrix and came back burbling with enthusiasm, insisting that a deck that I'd intended to use as the basis for a sequence of books including earth mysteries and green spirituality ought to be done in an urban-noir style full of rusting metal, corroded concrete, and glow-in-the-dark neon.

I objected to this. I was told, in so many words, to shut up and get with the program, that the publisher knew what they were doing and my concerns didn't matter. So an ugly, mangled version of my deck came out, and of course it flopped. I shelved the broader project and hoped that it might be possible some day to get back to it. By then I'd been suddenly landed with the job of taking a Druid order that was six inches from death on a slippery slope and getting it up on its feet again, and other concerns had to wait. If you want to know why my books on Druidry from that period all appeared from a different publisher, though, now you know.

Time passed, the rights to
The Sacred Geometry Oracle finally reverted to me, and after a few false starts I was able to place it with my current primary occult publisher, Aeon Books. It duly came out in a new and attractive edition, and found an audience. So I pulled out my old papers on the broader sequence, blew the dust off them, and went to work -- and here we are.
It's not exactly the series I had in mind back in 1996, but that's because thirty years have passed since then and I've learned a few more things about occultism. The basic concept is unchanged. There's a divination deck,
The Sacred Geometry Oracle, which provides a core tool for the system and a set of symbols that can be used throughout; there are three manuals of training,
The Way of the Golden Section, The Way of the Four Elements, and
The Way of the Secret Temple, which are meant to be done in order, and which provide the student with a solid guide to a path of occult training based on meditation and divination rather than ceremonial magic; and there are three workbooks.
The Occult Philosophy Workbook, The Earth Mysteries Workbook, and
The Life Force Workbook, which can be done in any order, and can be taken out of their current context and used in any system of occult training that makes use of daily discursive meditation. If you do the whole thing systematically you'll have seven years of robust occult training under your belt by the time you're finished, not to mention a good solid grasp of meditation, divination, certain kinds of ritual, pathworking, internal alchemy, occult philosophy, the folklore and metaphysical dimensions of the area where you live, and the suppressed sciences and arts of the life force. Not a bad education, all things considered!
Oh, and the methods I use are fully compatible with all the teachings I received from John Gilbert, including the Fellowship of the Hermetic Rose and the Modern Order of Essenes; with my Gilbert-derived Druidry work, including
The Druid Magic Handbook; with
The Dolmen Arch; with the Cabalistic material I introduced in
Revisioning the Tree of Life (and two sequels currently in process); and with the practices covered in
The Secret of the Five Rites and
The Philosophy and Practice of Polarity Magic. I didn't actually set out to create the required reading list for bachelor's, master's, and doctoral degrees in occultism, but all things considered it's not that far from that.
One other thing. These are not the only things from the colorful old occultism of the 1970s that are worth recovering. They're simply the things that struck me as most interesting and most useful as part of a system of training. Nor is there anything especially magical about the 1970s -- there were even giddier things in the occult scene of the 1920s, and some of those deserve at least as much attention as the material I've assembled. If any of this leads you, dear reader, to go plunging into the garish paperbacks of an earlier day to revive some other forgotten bit of weirdness and apply it to your own occult studies, I will bow with joined palms in your honor.