The I Ching Astral Doorways II
After Hexagram 8, Pi / Union, the work fell apart. Basically, each of us needed to do a lot of work on our own emotional stuff. This will probably be familiar to anyone who has worked with an initiatic (as distinct from a purely pragmatic-sorcerous) approach to magic: you take yourself up into higher consciousness a lot, you will likely find there is a lot more grunt-work than you thought when you come down. So we decided to do the work individually at our own pace. My sequence got as far as 12, P’i, Standstill. Which was pretty apt; I never resumed the work, nor did my co-workers.
THURS 19TH NOV. 1981: CHING GATE 12: P’I, STANDSTILL
Through rapidly to meet a guide tall and kingly, in purple and wearing a sword. He has long red hair and beard and dark grey eyes. I am reminded of my Grey King experience of about a year ago, so I vibrate the Godname of Kether. White radiance washes through him; his eyes have turned green, and he smiles faintly.
“It is good that you are cautious. You have come to a place where night and day cleave together, and many strange currents cross.”
The garden is diamond-shaped, the long axis east-west, in small stone pieces in a tight mosaic of shades of green, spiralling about a rectangular pool with steps leading into dark water. In the east is a throne of purple-grey rock with armrests carved as lion’s heads inlaid with silver. Two standing stones delimit the short axis of the garden, which stands on a high rocky hilltop. It is just into dusk.
“P’i is the axis about which revolve the cycles of night and day, yin and yang. You have come to the yin garden of this axis.”
I notice that the guide wears about his neck a Maltese cross of double-headed axe blades on a cord of plaited straw.
“Standstill is alertness through the dangerous time of change. You may prepare by bathing in the pool.”
I do so; the water is hot, from a deep mineral spring, sulphurous, and draws out impurities through my skin. When I emerge the air smells of cinnamon. It is getting dark.
I look at the strange arrangement of standing stones; the guide says, “Under different conditions their position is changed, to the long axis or elsewhere. Much about the harmonization of earth-currents may be learned from this hexagram.”
It is dark now, in the dark too of the moon, and billions of stars seem to race overhead as we whirl through space. They seem to point to a distant mountain-top, where stands the garden of Chien, the Creative.
We constructed rituals using the eight trigrams, which had dragon-spirits that Mike had contacted. As with the ritual described in Temple in the Squat, our Summer Rite in 1981 also involved Qabalistic Archangels and Enochian names – the God-names and Kings of the quarter positions and other Enochian spirit names.
The work was very poorly grounded. The following year, 1982, I took the I Ching work with me on my European travels. This was not a good time. The following item is where I tried to use an astral gate for some useful advice, but instead had an extraordinary vision amidst personal disaster.
MARDI 17TH AOUT: Opened I Ching gate in the Cathedral here, in the Goddess chapel.
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A landscape, hills, green, shading to distant ochre-red round-toped hills by a lake. My guide is purple, cerise, an intellectual, a diplomat in demeanour conceals a warrior in spirit, tight-belted over his lush shirt, hands me a sword which I raise aloft, it becomes a curve of brilliant white light reaching over the lake: lake, sword are one in a circle of brilliance, a furnace of truth through which I step into the ‘interior of colour’, the heart of every jewel, I am tasting the beauty of atomic matrices, so peaceful yet so alive it is here, magenta green yellow, then the core itself, a black double-pyramidal diamond absorbing all light. I hold it, identify with it, become an infinite web of black and white cuboidal atomic webs through which speaks pure intelligence:
“You have outgrown many levels of symbolism and reached the heart, the shores of the life/death duality. I need tell you no more in this accustomed way. You will return to your world through the heart of this net; take this” – a nine-pointed snowflake star mandala with 3D sigils in its core. It reaches my throat chakra, and it burns and is heavy. No, I will not carry it, it is too heavy. “You have gone thro this illusion of power too, sacrificed the lesser for the greater.”
I returned, flashing almost instantaneously through the symbols.
I left my silver neck-chain here in sacrificial gnosis.
Dave Lee is the author of several books, including Chaotopia, Bright From the Well and Life Force: Sensed Energy in Breathwork, Psychedelia and Chaos Magick. Visit his website and sign up for his newsletter.
