Metamorphosis and Belief by Coral Carte

I came to magic in my late teens through a deep and wordless affinity with the spirit of the land. I felt the presence of place in a way that seemed both natural and mysterious, as if I was able to hear the subtle voice of the earth itself. At the same time, I was living in what I would describe as a world of dreaming. I was a precognitive dreamer. The night’s dreams would reveal their meaning in the days that followed, as events quietly aligned with what I had already seen while sleeping.

At that age I did not have a framework for understanding these two experiences. On the one hand there was the tangible world of forests, stones, and water that seemed alive with spirit. On the other hand there was the inner landscape of dreams that anticipated the future. They felt like two separate realms. Later I discovered that Shamanism held space for both. It recognised the dreamer and the land as parts of the same continuum of awareness.

Books about Shamanism began to appear in my life almost by chance, and through them I was able to understand the Path of the Dreamer, about individuals who learned through visions and journeys into altered states. Around the same time a mentor appeared with a Tarot deck and a guidebook. Rather than simply teaching me the cards, I was given the unusual task of redrawing every single card by hand and copying out the explanations in my own writing into my own personal notebook.

This slow process changed the way I learned. Drawing the images forced me to study every symbol, every gesture and colour. Writing the meanings by hand embedded them in my memory in a way that reading never could. The Tarot became less like a book of instructions and more like a living language. Combined with the messages that came through dreams, it gradually reshaped my worldview. I began to understand that reality was layered, that intuition and symbolism offered another way of navigating life.

Many years later, during a period when I was searching for a new truth, I encountered the Chaos Magic paradigm. Chaos Magic brought me a radical idea: belief itself could be treated as a tool. One of the fundamental practices for a magician is metamorphosis.

Learning to change ourselves is central to magical practice. The exercise is deceptively simple: choose an aspect of your behaviour and change it deliberately. Observe the process and document it. In doing so you demonstrate to yourself—and to the universe—that transformation is possible. Then you can begin to change your beliefs. 

What appears to be a small shift can open the door to profound change. In my own case the process began with something almost trivial. I changed my habit of drinking tea and began drinking coffee instead. It sounds insignificant, but the act carried symbolic weight. It reminded me that patterns are not fixed. From there the experiment expanded.

As I allowed myself to question one habit, I began questioning many others. I started conversations with new gods, explored unfamiliar rituals, and examined the structures of my life with fresh eyes. The most difficult realisation was that I was living within a relationship that no longer gave me the space to grow. The new aspects of myself—the tender shoots of an emerging identity—had nowhere to take root.

Restructuring my life was not easy. Some of the challenges required enormous amounts of energy and courage. Yet the practice of metamorphosis had already taught me a crucial lesson: do not cling too tightly to any belief system. When beliefs are flexible, possibilities multiply. Different outcomes can be imagined, different paths explored.

In Chaos Magic this ‘unfixedness’ also means that assistance can come from many directions. Different entities, archetypes, and magical techniques become available as allies. Instead of defending a single worldview, the magician learns to navigate between perspectives.

This practice has had another unexpected consequence. It allows me to perceive the many layers of reality. I am no longer confined to believing only what the media tells me or what politicians argue about. I recognise that what we call reality may be only one level among many. Once you have learned the art of metamorphosis, you begin to understand that both the self and the world are far more fluid than we are taught to believe.

Beyond the Book

Beyond the Book and Me by Soror Respira

There are moments in magical work when something quietly, steadily, and irrevocably takes on a life of its own. Chaos Streams 2.0 has been one of those moments for me.

From the very beginning, this book was not simply written — it was grown. It emerged through offerings: images, words, fragments of experience, and acts of trust shared within a committed group. I started by contributing writing, but then I chose some images to share. Images have always been central to my magical practice, as they bypass the conscious mind; they slip past the guards and speak directly to the deeper strata where magic actually operates. I have long wanted to share some of this work more openly, and this project gave me a safe, strong container to do so.

Writing within a group has been a profoundly encouraging experience. The collective process sustained the creative spirit while offering structure, stimulation, and challenge. For the first time, I felt able to speak publicly — and responsibly — about deeds as well as ideas, about lived magical practice rather than abstract theory.

After the initial phase of creation, something equally rare happened: we became collective editors. Months were spent reading, rereading, refining, negotiating meaning, and strengthening each other’s work. This was slow magic — the kind that asks for patience, humility, and care. Eventually, our words were handed over to be shaped into form, and one day PDFs arrived. Suddenly, all those hours of invisible labour became a book, glowing on our screens like a conjuration made visible.

Now comes the final threshold. We will all be travelling to London to meet up and to present Chaos Streams 2.0 in physical form, to place this magical child — grown, accountable, and alive — into the hands of the wider community. This event is not just a book launch. It is a rite of release, a celebration of magic, music, embodiment, and shared lineage.

Streams of Love and Might By Frater Ryda

 People often say that you know that you love somebody when their success gives you pleasure and when their try gives you courage. Combine that with the act of rebellious Magic and you have all the strength you need. After all, in these days where the only thing that counts is money and power, love seems fit to be considered a rebellion. I have seen the madness of those people who try to accomplish something that they believe in. It is the same madness that takes over those mad scientists trying to change the world, and I know that those magicians, who gave up all the free time they had in order to create this project share that very same vision, to change the world to a better place through their ideas and actions. Small pathways of knowledge and experience, all combined together to create a new ground for exploration and awareness.

When I first heard the name ‘’CHAOS STREAMS’’ I somehow had that exact image in my mind, not of currents of ideas leading into one big core but a bunch of equally expanding dynamics that alter reality around them, like the roots of a really big tree creating a stable ground for the surrounding nature to evolve safely, or a big lake that throughout its streams fertilizes the land around it. Of course it didn’t take me long before I understood that the roots work both ways so in other worlds, a tree is offering according to what it has been offered as much as a lake nourishes a land based on how clean the water is. But I also know from the work of those people, whether the Chaos Streams are a big stable tree or a crystal clean lake that it was created with love, rebellion against steel and concrete, or against the devouring paradigm of our age through an eight pointed pathway of understanding and change.

Beyond the book by  Diana Holmstrom

For me, this event is a major and deeply personal milestone. For a long time, my practice existed primarily in the Russian language even if I live in Finland. However, my magical family speaks to me in English, and I have been waiting for the right moment to share my work in this language. Of course, my siblings know who I am and what I hold within the Pact but to speak at an open event while still being held by the circle of those who have supported me over the past years is invaluable. This feels like the right point of entry into my public magical work in English — a step beyond the Pact, while still standing firmly within the support of my magical family.

The ritual I will be leading is also deeply symbolic for me. I have been working with Northern magic for many years, but it was my meeting with Frater Runkorp that allowed me to enter this current on a much deeper level. We are doing this work together: he helps me uncover its meanings and creates art that allows immersion into these energies. Building on this shared work, I feel that my pathworking now reaches layers that were previously inaccessible to me.

If everything mentioned above is the context of my path, then ALU is the action itself. In this pathworking, we will enter the sacred space of ALU, continuing the themes of the threshold, initiation, and liminality. For me personally, this marks the beginning of a much larger journey. ALU speaks of divine ecstasy, inner illumination, and the possibility of going further than one ever thought possible.

Working with ALU has already carried me further along my magical path, guided by the mead of poetry — the force that inspires and transforms. Frater Runkorp describes this work best:

“The bindrune holds three currents. Ansuz is the breath that doesn’t quite belong to you, the voice that speaks through rather than from. In myth this is the mead of poetry, stolen, spilled, misused. It’s inspiration that ignores your plans. Laguz is the seething water beneath the ice, the seið-field where identities soften and roles dissolve. And Uruz is the animal fact alive at all: muscle, pulse, the aurochs that charges.”

Dreamworking 

By Coral Carte

Recording and understanding one’s dreams is one of the foundational practices for a chaos magician, and is part of the novitiate curriculum for the Illuminates of Thanateros. I have been keeping a dream diary since I was 18, after encountering the writings of Carlos Castaneda, whose explorations of dreaming as a shamanic art opened a doorway for me into a deeper dimension of magic. Over the years, I’ve come to recognize that there are many kinds of dreams. Some offer clarity on everyday life, elaborating on the subtle emotional layers of mundane events. Others are unmistakably magical — revelations from the deep psyche that offer guidance, warnings, or invitations to refine one’s practice. And then there are those dreams that cross into the underworld, where it becomes possible to commune with the dead and other beings.

Dreaming is central to my path as both a chaos magician and a human being. Some dreams have left an indelible mark upon my soul. Once, not long after my mother’s death, I dreamt that I was with her in the land of the dead when I encountered a close friend who had appeared unexpectedly. He seemed shocked and confused, so I stopped him, calmed him, and stood by as he continued his journey. Only later did I learn that he had been shot and I most probably had been on the other side to meet him as he crossed over. Encounters like this remind me how fluid the boundaries of consciousness can be, and how the dreamspace allows us to serve as witnesses and companions in the mysteries of death and rebirth.

I keep both a magical diary and a dream diary. The act of recording dreams is a dialogue with the subconscious — and the subconscious, once it knows it’s being heard, begins to speak more clearly. I found that preparation is important: setting an intention before sleep, leaving a glass of water nearby, and keeping a notebook ready for immediate recording upon waking.

Once the dream recall is working and your dreams are clear enough to be recorded, then it’s time to work on the significance between the deeper layers. Give each dream a title, note the date, and list the symbols. Some, like water or stairs, are universal; others are deeply personal — square white tiles personally bring a recollection of my grandmother’s kitchen and therefore represent my safe space. Over time, as you weave these meanings together, the dreams begin to reveal the architecture of your own magical practice.

Learning the art of dream working not only deepens one’s magic, but also refines the subtle senses, opening channels of perception through the aethers. With patience and devotion, the dreamer becomes a bridge between worlds — able to receive guidance, commune with unseen intelligences, and move with greater awareness through the vast tapestry of consciousness itself.

Ariadne’s Thread

By Frater Ryda 

Undoubtedly one of the most common parts of Greek mythology is that of Theseus, a young hero sent to kill the Mynotaur in the labyrinth set inside the kingdom of Minos, and Ariadne, King Minos daughter that secretly handed Theseus a ball of thread that would eventually help him find his way out of the labyrinth after killing the beast. A story of love and tragedy as always. But what troubled me are two things. What does the labyrinth symbolise and also what does the thread mean? Can we use the labyrinth as a symbol of the unconscious mind? And if so, is the thread a tool for finding our way into it? And lastly how do you find that tools?
        A few years ago in an RPG game that I was playing, I read that it had a spell called Ariadne’s thread and it was used for guidance into the spirit realm. At that time I already had started my quest in magic and the occult and since I was already curious on creating my own paradigm and belief against all the “must and should” most of the nowadays magical orders provide, I decided to take this “spell” and make it real.

I was not really sure on how to, but it had to be done somehow. In the beginning I started meditating as I was walking trying to think of the place I needed to go but that didn’t work. I needed to connect the place with me, like I had already been there to tie a knot with my thread. So I figured this was the way. I had to feel like I was already there, and by the time I acted as such I felt that small pull. A small force leading you to walk on a street that you weren’t planning to go to. But that wasn’t enough. I had to find the thread. I sat down and thought for a while and remembered the Chakras for some reason. Which one would I use if I had to combine them? I thought about Anahata, and then remembered an expression we use: that the sailors may have the wind in their favor for safe traveling. Theseus went to the island of Crete by ship and came back to Athens the same way. The wind played a big role in his journey. And so, I stood up and did the craziest thing: I started following the wind. The wind was already where I wanted to go and this would be my connection. I changed my path plenty of times until I saw the place I was looking for. I sat  down for a moment realizing how real the thing that happened was and then I went on with my plans. 

Apoptosis – A time to die – by Sator Wry

As the glorious summer days fade and the harvest is in, the wheel of the year turns bringing autumn days. Mornings become chilly and the nights draw in, blankets come out of storage ready to be snuggled under and my thoughts turn, as they always do at this time of year, to death.

Outside the leaves on the trees turn from greens to golden browns and deep russet reds before they fall. Falling away is the etymology of the word Apoptosis – “apo” (from) and “toisis” (falling). The word pops into my head, sparking a new ritual idea for me to take to CYN. One in my ongoing series of rites rooted in the stories science tells us.

Apoptosis is the planned normal and controlled death of cells which occur as part of every organism’s growth and development. It is controlled by the Caspaces.

During this process Caspace-9 is initiated by intrinsic factors such as DNA damage, oxidative stress or other stressors. Alternatively Caspace-8 is released in response to external stimuli such as TNF (tumour necrosis factor) binding to the outside of the cell. Both trigger a proteolytic cascade that cause morphological changes like cell shrinkage, chromatin condensation (pyknosis), and membrane blebbing which in turn lead to the formation of membrane-bound apoptotic bodies which can be easily engulfed by phagocytes, ensuring the orderly removal of cellular debris without causing inflammation or damage to the organism.

As below, so above. So it is to the spirit of the Caspaces that I will call during my ritual. The idea is to allow people to let go of those things that no longer serve them. A bit of magical pruning to allow space for new growth. To ensure that no damage occurs the participants will represent the phagocytes that clear away the debris. Phagocytosis “phagein” (to eat) and “kytos” (cell), plus the suffix “-osis” The mantra is obviously “Om nom nom”

In preparation I collect, wash and dry some autumn leaves. Participants sigilise the things they wish to release and draw the sigils onto the leaves.

We repeat the statement of intent: A gentle death for all that does not serve me.

I evoke the Caspaces while the other participants repeat the mantra “Om nom nom”

Evocation:

Now in the silence before the fall,

In the stillness of the cell’s last breath,

We call, Caspase, Harbinger of the Final Threshold, Death

You who stand at the signals gate, opener of the sacred path,

Sentinel who decides in balance without wrath

What may abide and what must pass.

Awaken now from zymogen slumber,

Sharpen blades wrought from cysteine’s edge,

Caspase-9, flame-keeper of the cell’s core shrine

Come Caspase 8, called Death’s receptor,

Send forth the signals, summon up your kin,

Let the dance that we call death now begin.

Come executioners Caspase-3 and 6 and 7

Unbind the ties that hold the cell together

Bonds break and DNA unwinds

The cell collapses in upon itself

With endless care old fragments are swept away

Into the Apoptosome, the wheel that turns the end.

Deliberate death, methodical and clean

Free from the fires of inflammation and from strife

In peace into the Phagocyte’s embrace

A sacred passage making way for life

Thus ends the song the cell must sing alone,

That others may arise, and life go on

Closing:

Thank the spirits for their help and end with an IAO banishing.

The leaves are taken outside and released on the wind.

Shamanism, Dark Magic and Samhain

by Coral Carte

Samhain marks the entry into winter, with its darkening days and rich autumn colours; its gift is rendering the threshold between worlds accessible. This is the time when the liminal space widens, and the living and the dead can sense one another more easily. In the old ways of Western magic, this was never a time of fear, but one of reverence. The darkness is not evil; it is fertile, gestational, full of potential. The ancestors dwell there, whispering their stories through the soil and through our blood.

In shamanic practice, the descent into darkness is part of the initiatory cycle. To enter the underworld — whether in trance, dream, or through the long nights of autumn — is to meet what has been forgotten or denied. Darkness is the womb of renewal, not its opposite. True “dark magic” is not malice or harm, but the wisdom of transformation: composting what is dead or stagnant into a cradle for planting the seeds that can sustain life.

Now I am preparing to turn toward my beloved dead. I will light candles for them for 21 days. At Samhain, I place their photographs on the altar and leave offerings. This year, there will be two new ones. The first is my beloved mother-in-law, who was part of my life for 30 years. She filled both the space of grandmother and mother in my life. My own grandmother was lost to me when I was very young, and my mother died in another country when my son, now 24, was 2. 

The second death is her son, the father of my son, who died mercifully and tragically. Death has that paradox where it is a painful loss, but sometimes a gentle release. 

I am grateful for the lives they lived, for the choices and chances that led to mine. They are not distant; sometimes they manage to talk to me through dreams. My grandmother, despite her early has always been present in my life. The dead are companions in the unseen, shaping the currents that run through my life. In honouring my ancestors, I remember my place in a lineage — standing in the river of human time with gratitude.

This year, my Samhain work deepens through study. I will be taking training in Trans Generational Counselling, exploring the relationship between family history and personal destiny, tracing the patterns that repeat through generations. We will use the genogram, systemic constellations, and dramatisation to uncover the hidden stories that live in our bloodlines. It is a way of giving form and voice to what our ancestors could not say.

Ancestor work can help transform what has been heavy into something that can support us — to meet the shadow of our ancestry not with judgment, but with understanding. In many shamanic traditions, healing the ancestral field is essential to restoring harmony in the present. The dead are not only mourned; they are healed, acknowledged, and sometimes released. Through this, their blessings can flow freely once more.

For me, this work bridges worlds — psychological and magical, personal and collective. It brings the abstract idea of “the ancestors” into lived experience. When we look with clear eyes at our family line — the migrations, losses, silences, and survivals — we begin to see how the patterns of the past shape our choices today. To know this is to reclaim power.

At Samhain, the darkness invites us inward, back to the roots. From there, we can turn again toward the future, carrying the strength of those who came before. As the old Irish blessing says, may the road rise up to meet you — and may your ancestors walk beside you in the long, luminous night.

The Priest of Chaos by Soror Brigantia

The role of the Priest of Chaos within the illuminates of Thanateros is known as a “side degree”. This is because it sits outside the other degrees and offices of the PACT as a standalone office that can be conferred on anyone who has attained the 3*. It is sometimes assumed that it is connected to the 2* adept role, but it is not so and exists as a degree unto itself with a very specialized function. Not all 2* are Priests and not all Priests are 2*, the role of Priest being outside what is normally expected of the average IOT member. However, when needed, any 2* is expected to be able to perform the functions of a Priest.

It is not a degree that one works for as such, there is no course or curriculum or programme that one follows to attain this degree. One Priest of Chaos once told me that it is less something that you work for and more like something that happens to you. I found that very much the case as I had the honour of the role being conferred on me in 2020.

The role came to me because I was already doing it; you always know when someone is ready for a grade or office when others assume that you are of that grade/office and forget that you are not. So, it was with myself.

What is this thing that I was doing that led to my becoming a Priest of Chaos? Well, the role is to be the outward face of the IOT. Many people for many reasons do not want their identities as PACT members to become general knowledge, or if they don’t mind that, they may not want to be getting way extracurricular about speaking and communicating about the IOT to non-members. It’s the role of the Priest of Chaos to do just that, to be the public face of the PACT.

The traditional way of doing this is giving public talks/seminars/workshops etc. However, over the years as the digital age has progressed the role has adapted to include social media and online activities as well. It’s largely the online activities that led to my being accepted into the Priesthood. While I have completed in person events and workshops, I believe that it was setting up a blog, a YouTube channel and being as prolific as a big bag of prolific things on social media, with gritty determination that got me recognised as a Priest.

The gritty determination is needed because the thing is, I’m not an IT or social media expert and the amount of blue that came out of my mouth while setting up the blog was extensive. I had really no clue as to how to do it. I was just making it up as I went along and asking other people who had blogs how they did it. Being a Priest of chaos is not all fancy robes; it’s a hard slog of making things happen. Within this hard slog however is a degree of joy, of mastering a skill and engaging with a wide range of people from across the world. It’s not uncommon for people to contact me out of the blue because they want to talk about chaos magick. Some people who are not members of the IOT have sent me their rituals to look over- and so far, everything that’s been sent to me is awesome. There is quite a lot of talent out there in the magical community and by engaging with the community outside the IOT you get to see it.

Primarily the role is to enable communication between the IOT and the wider community, to have designated people to do those interactions. This is a very important function as it prevents the IOT from becoming too insular, enabling the PACT to have its place within the larger magical community. As well as representing the PACT to non-PACT members the Priest of Chaos also feeds back the magical community to the PACT. In this way the Priest of Chaos enables a two way interaction to ensure that the IOT sits within the wider occult community.

My Experience as a Priestess of Chaos –By Coral Carte

I heard Daniel Foor once use the term “ritualist” to describe himself, and I knew that it was the description that fitted me best. I believe humans need rituals to mark the various passages in their lives, but in the Western world, we lack access to these practices except through the church, and we suffer the consequences. Before approaching chaos magic, I wrote and officiated ceremonies for myself and others, including rite of passage alternative ritual to the first communion, for an 11-year-old, the rituals for my own wedding, and a secular baptism rite for my son.

During the 2020 lockdown, when we took to the internet for connection, I was involved in several groups focused on consciousness. We held IOT meetings to support our community as often as possible. I also developed deep bonds with a Dream working group. Dreaming is a practice I discovered when I was still a teenager. Our approach was a deeply ceremonial practice of dream sharing and interpretation. I believe that my dreamwork, which I brought across to my IOT siblings along with my community ritual work, was what marked me as a Priest of Chaos. I continue my magical work during my dreams, and dreaming gives me access to alternative fonts of information. I have been keeping dream diaries for at least 20 years, and I am able to guide magicians into a coherent analysis of their own dream symbolism and interpretation.

I learned bodywork so that I could create healing, and when I added my shamanic practice, I was able to transform this discipline into a more magical ritual healing practice. I believe that the subconscious has access to higher levels of consciousness through the body. Through ritual bodywork, one can access a deeper state of gnosis quicker. I found that people were open and that through this transformative ritual bodywork, I could spread and share the practice of magic. Despite being afraid to acknowledge that I was working within a magical paradigm for much of my life, I was able to move through communities with my practice and instill a sense of belonging to a magical world in all of them.

I have led rituals at the three Occulture Festivals and through these have been able to show magicians from a cross-section of magical practices how to use magic by feeling it with their bodies rather than at an intellectual level. I’ve also presented a talk about Magic, Manifesting, and Remote Viewing to the scientific Remote Viewing community, where I “came out” as a practicing magician, only to discover that many viewers are actually involved in different branches of magic themselves. I believe Remote Viewing is based on a magical practice, and even Dean Radin, one of the leading scientists in the world of Remote Viewing, wrote a book about this called “Real Magic”. I regularly take ritual practices to communities outside of the IOT creating a sense of community helping people to transform and evolve into the best versions of themselves.

When I was invited to take on the role of Chaos Priest, it felt like stepping into the unknown, but I soon realized it was something I had been doing all along. Sometimes it takes an outside perspective to help you recognize what you’re already doing. I took my title in a ceremony the first time we met in person since the lockdowns, which together with the experience of finally being face-to-face and embracing was strongly impactful. My journey as a Priest of Chaos has been a natural extension of the practices and passions that have shaped my life. From crafting meaningful rituals and guiding dreamwork to fostering healing through bodywork and engaging with diverse communities, I have embraced the role of a bridge between the magical and the mundane. This has allowed me to serve both the IOT and the broader community, fostering connection, transformation, and deeper understanding. For me, being a Priest of Chaos is about living authentically, sharing wisdom, and holding space for others to explore their own magical journeys, and I continue to grow, learn, and contribute.

The Origins of the Role of Priest of Chaos – by Dave Lee

The idea of the Priest/ess of Chaos has been in the IOT for decades, probably originating with Pete Carroll’s Psychonaut, particularly ‘Occult Priestcraft’ and ‘Ordination’.

‘A magical priest as distinct from an adept is someone capable of administering the sacraments and rites of initiation, exorcism, Extreme Unction and Mass, and of discoursing wisely upon mysticism and magic to whomsoever may require these things of him.’

He adds: ‘Most adepts will be able to function as priests unless they are following a particularly solitary path. Initiates will find that acquiring the powers of a magical priest does much to further their progress towards adepthood.

‘An occult priest should be capable of dealing with all of these issues:

  • ‘To provide techniques of Emotional Engineering.
  • To give life a sense of Meaning.
  • To provide some means of Intercession or Intervention.
  • To supply an explanation of Death.
  • To formulate a Social Structure or Cult.’

As you can see, these functions could be expressed within the IOT but it’s clear that they’re meant as skills to acquire for service to non-members.

The  BI Section’s first admin document, the MT’s handbook (from around 1994) mentions in the section ‘Work towards 3*’ that ‘You may also consider beginning the work of the Priest or Priestess of Chaos, including promoting Chaos Magick to a new audience.’

So the functions of the P of C have been understood as:

  • priestcraft for service to non-members, such as baptisms, marriages and funerals. ‘Hatching, Matching and Dispatching’
  •  Someone who can ‘discourse wisely’, i.e. bring chaos magic to a new audience.

The latter function overlaps with one of the ‘Obligations’ of the Adept, as spoken in the Adept Ritual (Liber Kaos):

              ‘I offer myself as a vessel through which the pact may pour out teachings of magic.’

This identifies the PoC as one of the functions of the 2* Adept.

Obviously not every Adept is suited to doing public presentations, but I think every Adept should be able to articulate their magical life to the extent they can communicate something of its essence to non-IOT people.

Initiation of Self by Soror Brigantia

No one can initiate me.

People can perform a ceremony for me to increase the likelihood that initiation will occur or to empower me in some way, but the only person responsible for my initiations in this multiverse is myself. The word initiation means to start, to transform, where one thing ends and another begins, like a rite of passage. However, an individual is never going to experience that rite of passage unless something has already begun to change within them. There is a degree of personal initiative in initiations; one has to be ready and willing, and able to make the change.

I can stay the same if it pleases me and remain rigid in my sense of self and cling steadfastly to my own ideas about how I am. Or I can embrace the variety of life, the unknown, the adventure and take on new ideas, new selves and different ways of being in the world. In my opinion embracing and initiating self-change is the more interesting way to live as opposed to staying in the same stream throughout this entire incarnation. It is, however, fraught with dangers, as one steps into the unknown, not knowing if your decision to leave the comfort of your self was the right one. This one change can bring about a whole host of consequences, some good some bad, and at the end of it, one is not the same person they were at the start.

A chaos magician is likely to want to embrace the change as the orderly life of staying the same is a prison of security for the adventurous soul. However, even a chaos magician can struggle with change on occasion. Sometimes change is something that happens to us, and it’s not always good, sometimes it is tragic and not welcome. This is where we need to allow ourselves to feel the grief, the loss and the despair without self-judgment. It is OK not to feel OK and you do not have to pretend otherwise. Eventually one will have worked through the grief, and the chaos magician, the embracer of change, will allow their old self to flutter away and build a new life on new foundations.

Having spent time working with self-change and self-initiation, the processes of recovery become smoother, as one does not cling to the old. A chaos magician is accustomed to personal metamorphosis, which I have found to be of great help in dealing with grief. The concept of, something has changed and it will never be the same again, does not hold the same fear when creating change is part of one’s personal magical practice.

It’s my opinion that all magical practices, whether it be chaos magick, Thelema, Witchcraft etc. bring the most benefits when your chosen path aids you in dealing with everyday life by increasing your choices and range of responses to life situations.