The Abramelin Diaries. Ramsey Dukes

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      I plan to go to Ben's funeral tomorrow; hence my attempt to get Bloaters a little more legal.

      Thomas Vaughan's short tract on “light” gave me some light to compensate for dull sky. I always try to “transcend” symbolic interpretation of alchemy and return to a more literal meaning, as it was more difficult fixing the volatile than vice versa. When I visualised clipping a bird's wings so it fell back to the nest and had to brood, my thoughts became much quieter.

       Thursday 21 April

      Moist and warm morning. Earlier on I noticed that the oil in the lamp was frozen in the morning and liquid in the evening, but over the last two days it has remained liquid.

      Today is a day of distinction. 7.30 am and N is already up (his car is at the garage so he is bussing today). Must go to see the Social Whatsit people, and I think I will go to Ben's funeral and visit S on the way back. I hope that by concentrating all trips into one day I can avoid too much mental distraction.

      Sure enough, Abramelin was far from my mind for most of the day—so was everything else. I spent the day cheering M and, above all, long distance motorcycling as I also went to Stroud where they fixed the speedo cable. As they did so I had an interesting chat with Vernon Gadd.

      Got back to slightly late evenmed of poor quality.

       Friday 22 April

      This morning's lateness was worse—and less forgivable. I was wracked by lust in the night, and lightness of sleep seemed to be induced by high winds outside despite the room's good insulation from the elements. Not sure of source of lust and there were no obvious astrological transits. Was it a by-product of the whirl of travelling? Or was it implanted by S at suppertime?

      It made the morning's meditation “interesting”, but not very good.

      Attempted to be efficient and clear up some small items like putting up the shelf for the altar, fixing the door lintel, and washing and pressing my tunic. After a large lunch I was outrageously sleepy, but lying on my back for a short while and then sitting in an upright chair enabled me even to read the boring old Bible for two hours without dozing. Made effort not to be distracted by buffeting of wind outside.

      Fixed the lintel and put a shelf inside the altar for small goods. Did all this just before evenmed.

      As I was digging the ground where the greenhouse is to go I came across two large mandrakes—King and Queen. They were so large I could not dig them up whole. They did not scream, but the whole air twittered with sounds of wind. A strange flesh-like smell—veal?—came from the broken root and made me feel a bit hazy. I replanted the two pieces alongside even bigger ones beneath the elder. I am fascinated by those tuberous rooted climbers.

      At evenmed a single star-like white flower⁹ faced me on a branch close to the window; it was a perfect five-fold shape like an upright pentagram dead centre in the window. I wish it could stay there as it is a lovely object on which to meditate.

       Saturday 23 April

      “Celibacy” justifies itself by producing a vast improvement in one's sex dreams. After the alarm woke me I dozed and was tempted by a really lovely succubus. She looked just right and said all the most flattering things, and I even “got it in” before I insisted on waking up. Never has the real thing been that promising.

      Reading George Chevalier's memoir makes me feel a little small; after two weeks he had already been visited by malevolent entities. “Does ‘the enemy’ see so little opposition in me that he does not need to try?” I wondered. This succubus gives me hope; it suggests that the sunrise timing is important if two attempts have been made to confound it.

      Bearing in mind Lambspring's “two fish in our sea”, and remarks in Secret of the Golden Flower,¹⁰ I have attempted today not so much to seat consciousness in the belly as to sift it into two parts, “male” and “female”; one resting in the head and the other in the belly. That is progress. Although theoretically understanding the four worlds division, I'd not often clearly realised it.

      A day of physical labour preparing greenhouse site. My desire to prepare the site today was goaded on by the idea that not doing hard physical work would be a semi-observance of the sabbath. Read Pernety¹¹ and sunbathed after lunch. The sun was lovely.

      I wrote jokey, send-up letter to the local paper, but having to give my name and address made me anxious about possible repercussions. The I Ching message for the day was most appropriate, referring to the need to put a “headboard on the young bull”. O.K.

      Evening bungle: after cleaning my room, changing and perfuming everything, I was undecided about when to do the oratory. I could not after evenmed as I needed the light, but I was keen to do it as late as possible so that Sunday would dawn on an oratory that was fresh as possible. So I did it before evenmed, which I left a bit late. Waxed floor and east wall with beeswax and sanded altar, so I was puffing, sweaty, late and in a flap with an obstinate charcoal block. In trying to be economical, I used only a small piece, but the incense kept falling off it. Also, because the censer is still on order, I placed the block on a piece of flint, but was terrified that the flint would burst with the heat. A right old shambles! So was brief and fled.

      I must make a temporary censer that I can bury in the real one for continuity. Perhaps I will try a lamp-lid at the same time to keep the dust out.

       Sunday 24 April

      Simply overslept—who needs succubi? A lovely clear (cold) morning turned again to shrieking, cold wind with “bright intervals”—the sun warming the earth under my greenhouse.

      Went to morning service and felt rather “pagan” during it. My decision to “observe” Sunday to some extent has been uninspiring. Had intended to write letters, but too much time has fizzled. Long, bumbling and inaudible phone call from CF and a long and interesting call from SD helped to kill the time, alas. General feeling is nonsville. However I think I will continue this form of observance as an item of discipline.

       Monday 25 April

      Very bleary and late. Dreams of bother and confusion with telephones (R had rung after I'd gone to bed and rang again at 7.15 today). Dull, overcast day with less wind.

      Read for two hours after break in case CF arrives this afternoon. The Book of Samuel is better, spending less time in begetting and lawmaking and more action. Story of David was rather good, but I couldn't see point of Ruth.

      Got some tasks completed a.m. and feel drowsy after lunch. No word from CF.

      Have just read my first fortnight. Though not getting much done I am a little less shakeable and less inclined to be irritated by N's kitchen habits. Now in my meditation I am more often deliberately leaving in order to sacrifice my bliss rather than needing effort to maintain it.¹² The greenhouse is a big advance: now there is somewhere to put my seeds, which would otherwise be in danger of being blown over. The latest black cloud is the need to write letters. How about completing today's garden and “craft” jobs to leave tomorrow as letter-writing day?

      8 pm. No, there was an earlier black cloud: I had difficulty facing up to pricking out seedlings. Tried to analyse why. It was associated with earlier horrors of (a) jobs done half-heartedly and in a rush (b) without adequate seed boxes (c) causing a mess around the house, and (d) often with little outcome. I realised that these problems were largely СКАЧАТЬ