History Page created 30th September 2008.

In the first essay we outlined the theoretical roots of transformation, as distinct from mere learning, and elaborated on the concepts of knowledge and being. We identified the process of self-directed transformation to a more conscious being as the golden thread uniting virtually all esoteric and transformative traditions, from Yoga to psychotherapy. In the second essay we looked a little deeper at the need for self-work, and the diagnoses and cures prescribed by these various esoteric systems.

We finish this brief tour d'esoterique with a deeper look at Jung's first love, and my first esoteric fling: Gnosticism. Putting aside the intricacies of historical Gnosticism for another time, the tradition itself is based upon the doctrine of gnosis: special knowledge and insight attained through personal revelation, as opposed to common academic knowledge. In this sense the universal experience of gnosis represents the root from which all esoteric knowledge has sprouted, the consciousness-expansion experience which creates and binds the sprawling symbolism of esoteric spirituality.

Gnosis, by its very personal nature, also implies a high degree of individual responsibility, emphasising that each person's evolution is their own unique affair, and that true wisdom, which extends far beyond conceptual understanding, comes only through the seeking mind immersing itself in the awe of life, the dark and the light. With the built-in assertion of personal responsibilty, gnosis encapsulates both the "ethic" of esoteric spirituality, and the means. Gnosis demands that the individual know through experience, instead of believing through faith. External authority cannot help us down this path: the individual must taste the fruits. She must feel the juices dribbling down her chin; the sugars sweeping over her tongue; the sensation and feeling of digestion, becoming.

Towards the beginning of Stephan Hoeller's The Gnostic Jung, he concedes the difficulty of characterising the gnostic system, noting that many fall into the trap of mistaking the symbols for the fluxing reality that gnosis demands the individual experientally immerse herself within. Regardless, he goes on to state several basic axioms which "outline the basic propositions around which all other elements of the new Gnostic reality model may constellate themselves." We will use these statements to cover some areas previously overlooked, and to draw together the message of transformation and gnosis.

The first conclusion is that each person contains an inner spark of divinity, that "a pneumatic (spiritual, or more than personal) element is an organic part of the human psyche... The ancient Gnosis declared that the human being is not merely a creature of materiality (hyle) and of a personal mind-emotion complex (psyche), but that there is a third potency indwelling the soul, which is spirit (pneuma)." This is another way of saying:

Every Man and every Woman is a Star.

This doctrine of an inner God, a divine spark, is shared throughout all transformative traditions, and is the very impetus to begin work in the first place: to awaken this holy element, to re-align it with the macrocosm, to hack away at the complex trappings which limit its glorious radiance.

Hoeller's second conclusion is that this inner spark "carries on an active dialogue with the personal element of our selfhood through the use of symbols." This is to say that the spiritual core of a person does not stay dormant, but deals out pointers and messages in the form of symbols. If these symbols are understood and integrated, the spark burns brighter and the darkness recedes. But why symbols? Why not simple language? Speaking accurately of course, all our spoken words are symbols, but common language is misleading and anchored in an intellectual function that has trouble grasping at the non-logical realisations of diversity in unity.

Gurdjieff once explained to his students that "...the idea of the unity of everything exists... in intellectual thought but in its exact relation to diversity it can never be clearly expressed in words or logical forms... Realizing the imperfection and weakness of ordinary language the people who have possessed objective knowledge have tried to express the idea of unity in myths, symbols and verbal formulas." He goes on to outline the relevance of the key symbolic tools of Western occultism, in particular "theosophic addition" (more commonly known as Gematria), astrology, alchemy, geometry and so on: "Then there exists a symbology of magic, a symbology of alchemy, and a symbology of astrology as well as the system of the symbols of the Tarot which unites them into one whole." This recognition and attention to the power of symbols also unites many wide-ranging esoteric initiatives, usually, as mentioned, through the form of the Tarot. In Crowley's Book of Thoth (the guide to his own Tarot deck of the same name), he states that "The Tarot is a pictorial representation of the Forces of Nature as conceived by the Ancients according to a conventional symbolism. At first sight one would suppose this arrangement to be arbitrary, but it is not. It is necessitated by the structure of the universe, and in particular of the Solar System, as symbolised by the Holy Qabalah."

It was these kinds of symbols, expressed through synchronicities (meaningful coincidences), myths, visions, dreams and altered states of consciousness that Jung studied intensively, and it is these pneumatic messengers from the Unconscious that the individual can begin to recognise, as signposts from the spirit on its journey to wholeness.

Hoeller's next conclusion regarding the reality-model of Gnosticism is one we have already discussed in detail, and approached from many angles: "prior to an arising of Gnosis (or Individuation as Jung might call it) the human soul is dominated by many blind and foolish powers (projections and unconscious compulsions.)" Here we find once again a recognition of the mist that clouds our normal state of (sub)consciousness, analogous with what Buddhist's would call ignorance. Gnosticism, however, tends to formulate these facts into more poetic and mythic forms than other systems, speaking of archons and the demiurge (a disillusioned creator deity, distinguished from the higher God.) Hoeller comments on this and more in the next section which is worth quoting in full:

While it is occasionally asserted that Jung's Gnostic statements, such as the ones contained in the Seven Sermons to the Dead, do not speak of a Demiurge or archons and therefore Jung could not be a Gnostic, it appears likely that such observations are based on an inability of some to appreciate the subtle code in which Jung's Gnosticism is articulated...

The primary demiurge in the Jungian system is, so it would seem, none other than the alienated human ego. This conscious selfhood, having pulled itself away from the original wholeness of the unconscious, has become a blind and foolish being, unaware of its roots in the unconscious, yet desperately attempting to re-create a semblance of the over-world by effecting unconscious projections. The ego thus appears very much like an intermediary between the realm of extraverted action and the greater, unconscious matrix, within which Jung saw all external phenomena to be rooted. Like the Gnostic demiurge, the ego in alienated, blind arrogance boldy but falsely proclaims that "there is no other God before" it - that it alone is the true determinant of existence - and that the powers and potentialities of the unconscious are unreal or non-existant. The ego-demiurge creates its own kosmos, but it is a flawed and distorted one, inasmuch as in it the light of the deeper selfhood is obscured and polluted by unconscious projections and compulsions. It is thus that the ego becomes a true demiurge, the foolish architect of its own foolish world.

Since in their quaintly ironic manner the ancient Gnostics frequently identified the mythologem of the Semitic creator God with their own mythologem of the demiurge, and since this Semitic creator in turn became God-the-Father to the Christians and Allah to the Moslems, it is understandable that the concept of the demiurge should create severe resentment in those who have become attached to the god image of this deity. At the same time it must be remembered that a variety of demiurgic mythologems appear in numerous religions and spiritual disciplines, thus indicating that such an idea is not merely an eccentric aberration of the abominated Gnostics. The greatest Gnosis of the East, Buddhism, gives a very clear expression of this concept when it describes the figure of Mara, the deceiver who sought to keep Gautama from attaining to Buddhahood. It must be remembered also that Buddhism in the same breath affirms the psychological truth that the overcoming of the ego is the most important ingredient in the attainment of enlightenment. Other systems also give frequent mythological expression to the recognition that there is an adversary, or oppositional power, active in life, which seems bent on preventing or at least retarding the enlightenment of the soul, in order to hold it in some sort of captivity within a universe of darkness and illusion. The idea of the demiurge is not a mere weird and shocking invention of the Gnostics but an archetypal image universally present in the human psyche, and inevitably manifest in the various myths of enlightenment or liberation. The unwillingness of some religious structures to take evil seriously, and with it the image of the demiurge, has led to the psychic impoverishment of the followers of these religions.

This last statement leads us right on to Hoeller's next point, that "the alienation of consciousness, along with its attendant feelings of forlornness, dread and homesickness, must be fully experienced before it can be overcome." In other words, it is a call to gather up courage and face those things we usually run from, through fear or the anxiety of breaching some moral code. This is most often represented in other traditions through the emphasis on awareness, attention, and vitally, acceptance in self-study, because until we accept and face all aspects of what Jung called the Shadow, we are still living in some degree of illusion. As a poignant summary of this point, Hoeller recalls a dream experienced by one of Jung's patients:

She saw herself in a dream sinking into a dreadful mire. Overhead appeared the figure of Dr. Jung serenely floating in the aether and sternly addressing the distressed patient with the following words: "Not out, but through!"

This attitude of recognising and accepting evil, around us and within ourselves, is often characterised as "pessimistic" by others, but, as any psychologist or seeker knows, it is a vital process of reflection for anyone aiming to attain wholeness in being. Hoeller emphasises this when he writes that there are "empirical reasons related to the dynamics of spiritual liberation which make such attitudes imperative."

Moving on to the goals of gnosis, Hoeller says of the next conclusion that "the goal of spiritual growth is expressed by images of completion in a whole, which the Gnostics often called the Pleroma (fullness) and/or the Anthropos, or Primal Man and which Jung called the Self. This Self, the representative of the fullness of being within an individual context, is unique for each individual and is formed by the integration of the little self, or ego, and the unconscious." Imagery relating to this idea can be found everywhere. Two images should be sufficient to summarise. First, Crowley's Art Tarot trump:

Secondly, a series of images included in C.G. Jung and the Alchemical Renewal, which represents the alchemical union of the opposites:

Hoeller draws his conclusions in two final points, firstly that "the wholeness, or Self, which is the end result of the process of spiritual growth, is characterized by all the qualities such as power, value, holiness which religious systems have always attributed God." His second reads, "The growth of the soul has as its goal a state of integrated wholeness rather than a condition of moral perfection."

The character of this last statement is perhaps the most frequently attacked, as it aligns Gnostics with the anarchic individualistic spirit which we often find condemned within authoritarian religious traditions. Hoeller calls this "spiritual libertarianism," and in a similar vein, Robert Anton Wilson once identified himself as a spiritual anarchist. This attitude regards "the individual human pneuma as superior to and possessing a sovereignty over the primitive law of 'Thou shalt' and 'Thou shalt not' promulgated by the demiurge."

Like a true Gnostic, Carl Jung recognized that, even at best, goodness is no substitute for wholeness; he frequently said that in the long run what matters is not goodness or obedience to moral laws, but only and simply the fullness of being. Gnostic psychology has always recognized that the artificial division or splitting apart of the fullness of being into the two halves of good and evil was a plot of the tyrannical forces bent upon keeping humanity in chains. By dividing life into two separate halves and ordering the human being to cleave to one of these halves to the exclusion of the of the other, the demiurgic power has caused humanity to do violence against the shadow side of the soul and has caused human beings to condemn themselves to a state of incompleteness and guilt.

Crowley immortalised this D.I.Y. free-thinking spirit in his Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. Though enormously misunderstood and attacked by almost everyone who looks upon it, the statement boldly conveys this attitude to its fullest extent, emphasising that each individual must acknowledge and take responsibility for his or her own unique divine path (their True Will), whilst respecting the divinity of all the other Stars around them. Naturally, this sends dogma-pushers, self-harming slaves, and authority-worshippers everywhere running. Crowley recognised this, and wrote late in his life:

My job - the establishment of the Law of Thelema - is a most discouraging job. It is the rarest thing to find anyone who has any ideas at all on the subject of liberty. Because the Law of Thelema is the law of liberty, everybody's particular hair stands on end like the quills of the fretful porpentine; they scream like an uprooted mandrake, and flee in terror from the accursed spot. Because: the exercise of liberty means that you have to think for yourself, and the natural inertia of mankind wants religion and ethics ready-made. However ridiculous or shameful a theory or practice is, they would rather comply than examine it.

"I have to find out the answers?! I need Daddy-scripture!"

Do what thou wilt means that no one can live your life for you, and that your greatest responsibility is not to your boss, your parents, or your girlfriend, but to shining glory of your own divine self -- seek it! The Law of Thelema (lit. "Will") establishes the same aspect of personal responsibility inherent in gnosis, propelling the individual to explore her world for herself, to penetrate into her darkness, to see past her illusions, to ascend from her ignorance, to raise her middle finger to all the rules, to love as she pleases, to immerse herself within the never-ending joy of finding things out for herself, and to sample the Holy flavours directly.

Esoteric traditions are clearly much more than an individualistic "alternative" to conventional orthodoxy: they are practical, mature and based on results. Unlike a great deal of watered-down religion, esoteric spirituality stops gossiping, and actually dishes out the weapons of liberation, for anyone willing to bear them. An astounding majority of "religious" folk (and just as big a chunk of self-defined non-believers) are stuck in a cycle of naming and blaming the "sinners", whilst being too proud or arrogant to do any real work towards personal and global awakening. Hey, what does it matter?: Daddy-God will soon get on the job, fiery poker in hand, ready to unleash his Grand Sadomasochistic Plan.

As Huxley said so well in Island, Western religious teachings are often full of good intentions, but with very little in the way of implementations. Gurdjieff exposed the same critical issue: "Christianity says precisely this, to love all men... First one must be able, only then can one love. Unfortunately, with time, modern Christians have adopted the second half, to love, and lost view of the first, the religion which should have preceded it." Ted Nottingham, in his excellent Mysticism of Christian Teaching essay, hits the nail on the head:

Throughout Western history, Christianity has emphasized the goal of human life and neglected the means by which this goal may be reached. The result has been a certain recognizable personality and behaviour that is an imitation rather than the outcome of real inner transformation.

Esotericism offers the antidote, and conversely the original means of achieving transformation and gnosis. At heart its message is divinely common sense: we are at our core part of a divine interconnectedness, but there is illusion, ignorance and trouble all around us and within us. Thus, the esoteric conclusion is a big DUH: each willing person has a unique responsibility to work at putting an end to all the evil shit, to know thyself, and hence to breathe recognition into the embers of their inner light.

Religion is doing; a man does not merely think his religion or feel it, he ‘lives’ his religion as much as he is able, otherwise it is not religion but fantasy or philosophy.

The point of esoteric work is that religion, the knowledge and union of WoMan with the cosmos, should be direct, practical, individual and experiental; not "thoughts about religion," not blind submission, and certainly not grovelling! Telling people to love their neighbours, when that person is so dominated by unconscious negative psychological wiring that they can't help someone out without hating them for being weak, is obviously the wrong approach. Insisting that someone meditate on God when they can rarely conjure up a second of mental clarity in their daily life is similar folly. If everyone could immediately live all the great trips that prophets write about, then we'd all be doing it right now.

But we all have our own highly customised forms of avidya, incorrect comprehension, illusion, sleep-walking. I sometimes dislike something because it triggers some painful memory from my past. Sometimes I slip into bad emotional habits. Sometimes I drink 8 beers instead of the 2 I set out to consume. Sometimes I wallow, sometimes I misjudge, sometimes I miss a whopping great chunk of divinty that tried to reveal itself to me. Sometimes I talk with a girl just because I want to shag her, even though this is usually a bad idea from any perspective except the hormonal present. Accepting all this, I choose to practice mindfulness whenever I remember to remember. I choose to gradually clear away my childhood cobwebs, to help others when I can, to sharpen my default level of awareness, and in general to make myself more receptive to the spiritual vibrations underlying everyday life, for my own joyful evolution, and so that in time I can pass my refined gold on to others, on to everyone.

Esotericism is often considered radical precisely because it actually requires getting off your ass and doing something practical about yourself and the state of the world: working hard to achieve all those great things that mystics, gurus and prophets keep telling us about. Of course knowledge of oneself, and consequently of the divine, is no walk in the park. Esotericism is realistic in insisting that we accept the struggle of uncovering our divine nature and raising the collective consciousness of humanity.

Any religion that asserts various virtues without instructions for the practical attainment of those virtues is clearly missing something really important. All authentic religion must center around the results, the work, the doing; the experience and attainment of union, compassion and love. This is not to say that everyone should and must be working towards esoteric transformation, because this path isn't for everyone, and requires a strong and dedicated character. What it does say, however, is that people who do claim divine knowledge, but are just parroting verses from some incestuous quote book, without any real work or compassion, are probably talking out of their asses, providing little more than high-quality fecal food for the ever-ravenous archons that prevent us from realising our divine nature and spiritual potential.

Afterword: No-one in heaven is idle!

These 3 essays are only a quickly-put-together summary based on the esoteric traditions that I know a little about, and some of the experiences I've had through my own self-work. It goes without saying that the shared transformative aims discussed here also correspond to the "self-realisation" of many diverse arts, such as the "self-actualisation" of Abraham Maslow, and "other related approaches to differentiating the innate being from the unconscious complexes we have mistaken for identity." Transformation - feedback and integration of the ever-diversfying information flow of the Cosmos - is all around us. When one begins the grand transformation, the study and re-alignment of oneself, we discover a historical lineage of great minds who have left many clues and tools to use on our way. Esoteric literature from all continents stand in transformative alliance, from the Yoga Sutra to the Gospel of Truth, the Philokalia to the Tibetan Book of the Dead.

I want to really emphasise that in writing this series I am not trying to lump the beautiful diversity of all spiritual and esoteric paths into one homogenous transformative current. Each tradition has its own approach, symbols, tools, potential problems, and potential crazy members. Some paths are great for certain people, whereas other routes will be necessary to quench their neighbours thirst. My goal in these essays was merely to highlight and explore their shared dedication to transformation as a method of awakening the inner spark present in each and every one of us. The investigation inevitably reveals many other similarities in methods and tools, all aiming at individual illumination. But to say that these traditions are all absolutely "doing the same thing" is probably a big mistake. In reality, you have to explore for yourself all these traditions to construct a personal vision of the underlying wisdom.

Transformation is a never-ending process because the only stability lies in change. As Leary put it, you're only as young as the last time you changed your mind. Every second is a death and rebirth - we just have to recognise the constant potential for conscious re-emergence. It was my own recent prolonged rebirth that lead to me writing this essay and ditching my never-ending book. While this essay holds a great deal of "resonance" for me, I know that had I read it a year back, I wouldn't have understood very much of it. The concept of Understanding in relation to Knowledge and Being comes into play very strongly in understanding those three concepts in the first place! To truly understand the message of these essays, one must actually dip into the waters. That requires some effort, and here's the big secret: you only get back as much as you put in.

Hopefully I've provided an appetising esoteric menu, but you want the meal not the menu! No essay can even begin to do justice to the diverse and indescribable experiences we obtain through dedicating to spiritual evolution. It doesn't matter so much what angle we approach the tree from, whether it be the no-bullshit lectures of Gurdjieff, or the deep symbolism of alchemy; what matters is the revelations we experience; the gnosis we cultivate, the education we pass on, and compassion we spread. Of course, after the individual wins the first fruits, there is always the next thought; "well it's no damned fun being here alone! I want someone else to taste this!" And so we move on, helping others up the ladder, whilst remaining ever open, ever seeking, ever receptive to the fullness and spiritual potential that underlies a troubled and transforming world.

Recommended Books

Prometheus Rising, by Robert Anton Wilson.
My Life with the Spirits, by Lon Milo DuQuette.
Angel Tech, by Antero Alli.
The Inner West: An Introduction to the Hidden Wisdom of the West, edited by Jay Kinney.
In Search of the Miraculous, by P.D. Ouspensky.
The Gnostic Jung, by Stephan Hoeller.
The Heart of Yoga, by T.K.V. Desikachar.

Recommended Essays

The Great Work of Conscious Evolution, by Dwight Ott
C.G. Jung and the Alchemical Renewal, by Stephan Hoeller.
Gnosticism 101, by Jordan Stratford.
Book 4 Part 1, by Aleister Crowley.
Eight Lectures on Yoga, by Aleister Crowley.