In Praise of Part-Made Gods

I think it’s fair to observe that I spend a lot of time thinking about God. This has been going on for some time (probably the last 35 years) and I don’t imagine it’s going to stop anytime soon.

A friend of mine who I play lots of music with asked me whether I “believed” in God, and while I’ve made some valiant attempts at doing so in the past, I felt unable to answer conclusively. Famously when asked this question, Carl Jung answered that he didn’t believe that there was a God rather he “knew” there was. Familiarity with his biography enables us to know that Jung was a fairly seasoned Gnostic explorer at the point he made that comment, and based on his reception of “The Seven Sermons to the Dead”; it is unlikely that his deity of choice was of an orthodox variety.

In contrast to either creedal formulations or some distant “unmoved mover”, for Jung the God that seemed to encapsulate the endeavour of the Gnostic explorer, was that strange bird Abraxas. Abraxas like Baphomet is one of those Gods whose queer visage keeps popping up in esoteric lore, while at the same time being very difficult to categorise. Research will provide some insights into the roles that he played/plays within a whole host of occult traditions-this strange cockerel (and sometimes lion) headed being with its serpentine “legs” is viewed as an Aeon by some and as an Archon or the Demiurge by others. Both his number (using Greek Gematria) being 365 and his association with the seven classical planets, connect him to both the round of the year and the physical cosmos.

For Jung, Abraxas represented a movement beyond dualism. No longer is the divine image split into a good Lord and an evil Devil; rather the mysteries of godhead are held within the complex iconography of Abraxas:

“Abraxas speaketh that hallowed and accursed word which is life and death at the same time. Abraxas begetteth truth and lying, good and evil, light and darkness in the same word and in the same act. Therefore is Abraxas terrible.”  The Seven Sermons to the Dead

Terrible Cock God

Terrible Cock God

When one meditates on the more common cockerel headed form of Abraxas, we cannot but be struck by the bizarre chimera-like quality of the image. The body of a man is topped by the head of a solar cockerel (possibly symbolizing foresight and vigilance), while from under “his” concealing skirts; strange chthonic serpents come wriggling forth. This cosmic hybrid seems to be holding together the transcendent and immanent, solar and night side. Viewed through my late-Modern lens I am both awed and unsettled by the sense of internal tension that this God seems to embody.

My own attraction to strange gods is hardly new territory-that monstrous hybrid Baphomet has long been jabbing at my consciousness as I’ve sought to make sense of life’s dissolving and coming back together. For me both Abraxas and Baphomet represent something of the core paradox that many of us experience in trying to make sense of the world.

Most attempts at constructing “big theories” (metanarratives if you like) are designed to make sense of the universe that we live within. The success or failure of any such world views seems to largely determined either by their ability to manage nuance and complexity or conversely the naivety of those willing to block out new information. For those of us however who are seeking to promote some form of cognitive liberty, it seems inevitable that at some point we are going to have to develop deeper strategies for managing complexity, paradox and the types of uncertainty that such realities often give birth to. (See also this.)

In previous posts we have considered the way in which the duality and tension that exists within many Gnostic myths potentially trigger the awakening of consciousness and in many ways these iconic images of Abraxas and Baphomet are little different. The juxtaposition of apparent opposites and the sense of movement that they contain speak to us of dynamism and process rather than fixed Platonic certainties. Whether via weird cosmologies or shape-shifting iconography, these gnostic riddles push us to the edges of comprehension and certainty. In seeking to engage with such material we often experience a profound unease and yet for the intrepid explorer such discomfort can trigger the types of “strange loops” that arguably enable the evolution of consciousness (for more on this check out this great article by my friend BK).

Cocky movements

Cocky movements

This circular, iterative use of myth and paradox leads us away from certainties that cannot bear the weight of new insight, rather we are asked to engage in an unfolding process of becoming of both ourselves and our perception of the numinous.

I will conclude with the brilliant aeonic litany contained within the Mass of Chaos B, which provides us with a vivid example of how such evolution continues to occur:

“In the first aeon, I was the Great Spirit.
In the second aeon, Men knew me as the Horned God, Pangenitor Panphage.
In the third aeon, I was the Dark One, the Devil.
In the fourth aeon, Men know me not, for I am the Hidden One.
In this new aeon, I appear before you as Baphomet.
The God before all gods who shall endure to the end of the Earth!”

SD

108 Breaths for Baphomet

The following technique is one I developed (or was taught by the spirits, or made up in me own head – you pays your money, as they say…) following some mindfulness meditation in my garden. (Which at this time of year is a riot of flowers and vines and burgeoning fruit.) The method uses an asana which is held for a few minutes. In this sense it is similar to the techniques I’ve encountered in Kundalini yoga (specifically in the Longevity Kriya). Kundalini yoga is a fascinating form of practice which I was introduced to by the awesome Kwali, and one that is well worth exploring.

As well as being a physical exercise this method, which I call the ‘108 Breaths for Baphomet’ (108 BB), provides an opportunity to connect deeply with our somatic experience, our bodies, the biosphere aspect of who we are. While it’s possible for attention to drift, the effect of being in what amounts to a stress position helps keep the mind concentrated on the body. This technique deeply connects the conscious, linguistic awareness to the physical self. In this way it provides an opportunity for the body to ‘speak’ to us. Often the body may only may appear to communicate to us when something is wrong, when we feel pain because of an injury or other problem. This simple method allows the body to establish a close relationship with the conscious mind (taking aside for the moment the perspective that the mind arises from the body itself) and in doing so it (the body) can alert the mind (the self that imagines the body as a vehicle) to needs that may not be being addressed. Flashes of insight can come in the moments after the technique ends about changes that the body would like to see in terms of diet, exercise, light levels, supplements required and so on. This technique can also be imagined as bhakti yoga with the practice being dedicated to Baphomet and/or offered to some particular intention.

108 BB works nicely when deployed after some free-form movement work, yoga, tai chi or other similar practice.

Begin by sitting in a cross-legged position. This can be done on a chair but sitting on a cushion or the floor is what I generally do.

Breathe deeply and relax.

With a deep, slow inhalation raise your hands. Now gently move into the classic Eliphas Levi Baphomet asana. Left hand down, showing the mudra with three fingers extended, right hand pointing up with two fingers extended.

Become a Living God!

Become a Living God!

Hold this position for 108 breaths.

Keep counting the numbers in your head. This is partly so you know when you’re done but mostly so that you give your conscious monkey mind something to do. If you like a spot of gematria you can also enjoy the various groovy numbers as they float by – 11, 13, 15, 23, 27, 31, 56, 72,  81, 93 etc etc.

Soften the face, keep a gentle smile on the lips. Relax the shoulders, don’t lock the arms. Relax and open the body as you hold the asana. As tension arises notice and focus on breathing into it, keep the limbs in place. Breath as slowly as is comfortable. Play with the practice and explore it for yourself.

As you reach 100 begin to visualise a chaosphere. Use the arrows of the sphere to help you count off the final eight breaths. Here you can switch from silently saying the numbers to simply following the eight arrows around (or in whatever pattern works for you) until the final breath is taken. (Personally I imagine a chaosphere with the arrows coloured in the directions given in the Chaos Craft model, starting my first of the final eight breaths with the point nearest to the season I’m in when doing the practice.)

Crafty chaos star

Crafty chaos star

As you breathe out the final 108th breath bring your hands down to your dan tien (or across your body in the ‘Osiris Risen’ position and then down to rest on your belly).

Keep still; deploy your motionless, no-mind technique. See if anything bubbles up into attention from the somatic level. Often this will appear as a linguistic flash (you might for example get a word suggesting what food or other attention your body would like).

Relax, stretch and go and do something else.

JV