My next book, Rude Awakening: Perils, Pitfalls, and Hard Truths of the Spiritual Path, is finished and set to be released by John Hunt Publishing on May 25th, 2012. The book is essentially comprised of four sections, the first being a critique of spiritual/transformation work, the second being a description of seven stages of 'inner awakening', the third being a capsule overview of seven sages (Socrates, Jesus, Milarepa, Hakuin Ekaku, Ramana Maharshi, Nisargadatta Maharaj, and Yaeko Iwasaki), and the fourth being a series of short pointers. I enjoyed putting this book together, although I should add that it is not 'typical' writing on my part. The style of this book is closer to how I work as a therapist and a workshop facilitator. When I write I tend to operate more through what Gurdjieff called the 'intellectual center', and in my case, that more resembles an academic writing style. Rude Awakening has some of that, especially in presenting the histories of the seven sages, but much of the book is written in a more direct, 'in your face' style, which reflects more accurately my in-person work with my clients and students over the years.

Any author invariably appreciates intelligent reviews of their work, and in that regard, I'm certainly no different. My most recent book, The Three Dangerous Magi (published in December of 2010) has been selling relatively well, especially for a somewhat pricey 714 page book (in economically depressed times, to boot). Reviews of the book thus far, whether from Amazon.co.uk (the book has sold best in the U.K.), or from Amazon.com, have been mostly positive. As for bloggers, there have been some intelligent reviews, such as from author Walter Masson, from 'Dark Star adept' Andy Lloyd, and from a blogger who calls herself a 'bad witch' (great name, I must say). The book has also received positive mention from Michael Staley, (heir apparent of the brilliant Kenneth Grant, considered by some to be Crowley's natural heir) who operates Starfire Publishing. 

I am at present hard at work writing, as well as teaching my programs in transformational work. But my life is never far from the unexpected, perhaps the occupational hazard of one who commits their life to the exploration of the unknown, as it pertains to inner awakening. Recently I was privy to a rare Aleister Crowley watercolor painting, and am in the process of writing about this 'discovery'. The painting has been in the possession of one John Robert Colombo, who is probably one of Canada's best kept literary secrets. My article on this painting, and its fascinating provenance, will be posted within a few days on my website, under the section called 'Lore of the Magi'.

Esoterica

A couple of weeks back I had the good fortune to have dinner with Nevill Drury and his wife Lesley, who were passing through my town while on their way to New York. Drury is an accomplished author in the field of (mainly) the Western esoteric tradition. He has authored over sixty books in some forty years of writing. I've long thought that he is one of the more unheralded writers in his field. He is similar to Colin Wilson, but more rigorous. His most recent work, Stealing Fire from Heaven: The Rise of Modern Western Magic is an outstanding summary of the most significant facets of the Western esoteric schools, ranging from the Rosicrucians and Freemasons to Gnosticism and Kabbalah, and from John Dee to Aleister Crowley and Castaneda and shamanism. He also has an excellent chapter on the so-called Left Hand path, especially as it developed via the work of Dr. Michael Aquino and his Temple of Set. These areas are notoriously misunderstood, and in large part that is due to the entertainment industry. I am presently in the process of researching a new book, tentatively titled Hollywood and the Occult, in which I am endeavoring to shed some light on the powerful influence of the Silver Screen on the collective consciousness of mainstream society, especially as that relates to gross distortions of the Western esoteric tradition.

The idea of tackling the connections between the movie art-form and the path of inner transformation and esoterica has been done before, most notably by Dean Sluyter in his excellent Cinema Nirvana; more 'out there' attempts have included Bruce Rux's uneven Hollywood vs. the Aliens. What these two have in common is basing their work on the idea that Hollywood's expression of deeper perspectives is largely unconscious. The entire esoteric tradition involves working with the unconscious mind, via symbol, ritual, and direct inner exploration, in order to bring light into the dark recesses. This whole area was probably most brilliantly written about by James Webb, especially in his scholarly The Occult Establishment (1976). Webb's main idea is that the entire 'magical revival' of the late 19th century (which eventually morphed into the modern 'new age' movement) was based on a collective revolt against the scientific method, which in its stark decentralizing of the human element (via Copernicus' heliocentrism and Darwin's natural selection, etc.) seemed to deal a serious blow to the childishly assumed primacy of humanity. To compensate for this, Webb argued, the esoteric traditions gained many adherents, as it seemed to present the possibility of regaining our 'center of the universe' positioning. 

There is much more to the matter than that, of course, and Drury's book adds many of the pieces that Webb, with his Cambridge conservatism, likely missed. That said, Webb was probably the single most unrecognized scholar of the western esoteric field (his suicide at age 34 meant that his greatest work was never realized). His book on Gurdjieff, The Harmonious Circle, is a huge and fascinating read. The story of Webb's demise is itself highly interesting, and can be read about in this excellent piece by occult author and former Blondie musician Gary Lachman here.

London, England

I greatly enjoy traveling to other lands to speak and teach. Over the years I’ve had the good fortune to give talks and workshops in major urban centers like New York City, Berlin, Vienna, London, Tel Aviv, and Toronto (yes, Hogtown is the fifth largest city in North America, smaller only than NYC, LA, Chicago, and Houston, something we Canucks tend to overlook). I’ve also taught in smaller, out of the way places like on the Mediterranean island of Mallorca, Whidbey Island in Washington state, and Fort McMurray (the northern Alberta oil town). But I have to admit that my two favorite places to visit are Austria and England, perhaps no surprise, given that these two lands are my genetic roots (my father being Austrian, my mother English). 

In 1961, when I was but a two year old toddler, my parents temporarily separated, and I moved to England. After a few months they reconciled, and we returned to Canada. Yet I always retained blurry, vague memories of that time, my earliest memories of any sort. I did not get to return to England until the late 90s, while on my way to Egypt. I’ve been back since then to give some talks, and am returning again this month, from March 16-19.

I’ll be giving two talks/book signings (for my recently published The Three Dangerous Magi: Osho, Gurdjieff, Crowley) on Wednesday and Thursday March 16/17. I’ll also be giving a third talk, on Friday March 18, that will focus on a different area, that of ‘conscious relating’ and ‘conscious communication’, two key areas that when not handled well lie at the root of relationship breakdown in all forms. In particular, esoteric communities have often floundered in the area of conscious communication -- ironic, given that the point of esotericism (and inner transformational work of any sort) is growth of consciousness. 

My March schedule in London, England, is as follows:

Wednesday, March 16, 8pm: Talk, book signing. Location: The Moot With No Name, address is The Devereux Arms, Devereux Court, London WC2 3JJ. The event is hosted by The Atlantis Bookshop. According to their website, 'The Devereux Arms is in a Tudor building in Devereux Court which is a pedestrianised lane off Essex Street and Fleet Street at the Strand end. Nearest Tube: Temple.' See map at http://tinyurl.com/cp7u2.

Thursday, March 17, 6:30pm: Talk, book signing: Location: Watkins Books, 19-21 Cecil Court, London. The Watkins shop has put up a notice for my talk and signing on their website HERE.

Friday, March 18, 7pm-9pm: Talk. Topic is Conscious Relating/Conscious Communication. 

Saturday, March 19, 10am-6pm: Seminar/Workshop. On Conscious Relating and Conscious Communication. 

Both the Friday talk, and the Saturday seminar, will be held at The Quantum House, 66 Churchway, Euston, London, NW1 1LT. Directions to The Quantum House can be found HERE.

For more information on the Friday talk and/or to register for the Saturday seminar, contact Camille Baker at camille@swampgirl67.net

Music of the Spheres

Music has always been important to me, but as my life has played out I’ve not given it the attention it deserves and have often been somewhat oblivious to its contemporary development. I discovered Johann Sebastian Bach in my university years; I particularly fell in love with his Goldberg Variations as performed on harpsichord by Gustav Leonhardt. But apart from Bach, Beethoven’s powerhouse Ninth Symphony, and some of George Friderich Handel, my awareness of classical music has been somewhat limited. I was ten years old during the time of Woodstock (1969), and although I remember it well, I was a bit young to appreciate the flowering of musical creativity that occurred in the ‘60s. I did, however, begin to appreciate this same music during the equally creative decade of the 70s, and like most adolescents of that pot-infused time, found myself getting lost in the melodies of such classic rock bands as Genesis, Pink Floyd, Jethro Tull, and my own personal favourite, King Crimson (their original album, In The Court of the Crimson King, never having been equalled, in my somewhat limited musical opinion. Interestingly, they apparently named the band ‘King Crimson’ meaning it as a synonym for Beelzebub, which was of course, the name of not just the Semitic god but of the hero of Gurdjieff’s magnum opus).

The bands just mentioned all made instrumental music, to be sure, but when it came to vocals my favourite was Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, especially their Déjà Vu album. I always thought that Young’s voice in particular was unique, at least until recently, when I happened to listen to the recently produced CD of my old friend Brian Shiva Haley called Grokkin’ the River. Brian is a man of many accomplishments (he is a trained psychologist, and has traveled the world as a spiritual seeker), and his latest focus has benefited from this life experience. His music is melodious and comforting, but also energetic and appealing on many levels. His singing voice is a particular surprise; it’s always interesting to hear the contrast between a person’s speaking and singing voice.

I’d mentioned Neil Young, and if I could compare Brian to any vocalist, it would be Young. Like Young he balances the soulful and lyrical with harmonious quality, music that is easy to listen to while retaining depth and contemplative elements. The best compliment I can pay to a musician is to call their work unique, if only because it sometimes seems as if there are almost as many musicians as there are fish in the ocean. Brian’s work is unique and recommended. He may sound like Young, but he is himself. Hopefully his excellent CD will be followed by others.  

On that note, I should also mention the Jazz musician Jan Garborik, in particular his CD In Praise of Dreams, which oddly enough I discovered in a Starbucks. It’s the best Jazz music I’ve heard, a musical genre I’ve never particularly been enamoured of.

Gurdjieff approached music, via his compositions co-created with Tomas de Hartmann, as a vehicle to aid in inner awakening, and it indeed has the ability to do this, by opening the mind to avenues of awareness that have long been blocked or simply forgotten. Some esoteric systems have taught that all is Light and Sound, with Light being synonymous with consciousness, and Sound with energy. Both are ultimately seen to be two sides of the same coin—energy being the outer expression of consciousness, consciousness being the silent numinous and formless essence of energy.    

Cards of Wisdom

Tarot cards have long been an interest of mine -- in fact, in some ways, I can say that my interest in the path of Inner Work began in part with my study of Crowley's famous Thoth Tarot deck back in the mid-1970s. Many years later I explored the Osho Zen Tarot deck, which while not based on a traditional Tarot structure, is nevertheless an effective tool for generating insight into one's hidden patterns or potentialities. A very good more alternative version is the deck that was created by my friend Cheryl Harnish, Destiny Cards. 

I have fond memories of my 'Tarot university years', back around 1980, when I would, on occasion, take my Thoth Tarot deck and grab a booth in the corner of a popular pub on Peel Street in Montreal, and proceed to give spontaneous readings (there was never a lack of 'customers', although no, I did not charge them anything -- then, at least :) ). The power of symbols lies in their ability to bring to awareness elements of the psyche that we are not normally aware of -- at least, in any sustained fashion. As Carl Jung once wrote,

Unfortunately there can be no doubt that man is, on the whole, less good than he imagines himself or wants to be. Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.  

An essential part of the 'path of awakening' is to become aware of our more unsavory elements, and in particular, those parts of us that get in the way of our greater unfolding. To claim that we want 'truth' is not such a big deal. Far more significant is to encounter our particular psychological resistances to that truth. And these forms of resistance can indeed be fierce. So much so, that they have the ability to throw us off the path of awakening altogether; or worse, to convince us, in so many subtle ways, that we are, in fact, waking up, when more likely, we are merely dreaming that we are awake.

Symbols are a language, and essentially, the most 'primitive' of languages. But this is also what makes them the most direct, because they have the ability to 'touch' us in ways that bypass the conventional conscious filters. The whole problem with the human condition can, in a sense, be boiled down to un-naturalness. In this connection, I'm not suggesting that our self-realization lies in some of 'return' to our primordial roots. Ken Wilber (for one) accurately identified such approaches as a type of 'romanticism', in which we erroneously assume that our awakening is based on merely recapturing what we have imagined that we have lost. Christ may have exhorted us to 'become as a child again', but he can't have meant that literally, as the ignorance of the child is not the same as the wisdom of the sage, even if resembling it in some superficial regards. 

No, we are not going backwards to the so-called bliss of Eden. We are (ideally) going forward, into a realization that both transcends and includes (as Wilber puts it). We are going beyond. But we cannot truly go beyond the limitations of our toxic self-image without first being willing to face the unresolved issues in our (mostly subconscious) minds. The Tibetan Buddhist master Chogyam Trungpa once said it well: 'Better not start on the spiritual path. But if you start, you had better finish.'

I always doubted what he meant by that (though I've nevertheless quoted his words often, because they are powerful, something like a vivid Zen koan). What I never quite understood was the idea of 'finishing the spiritual path'. How does one actually finish that? Has anyone ever truly finished that? 

I'm not sure. But what I am sure of, is that we must face our 'darker angels' -- the parts of our nature that are sequestered away in the realms of our mind that are typically without light. We need to bring light to the hidden. As Jung (him again) put it:

Projections change the world into the replica of one's own unknown face. 

Meeting our 'unknown face' is not the end of the journey, of course. In some ways, it is the beginning. But our inner journey toward truth has no foundation if we have not yet undone our projections -- by seeing, square on, what is so difficult to recognize within us.  

2012?

Last summer, by a series of fortunate last-minute happenings, I attended a musical concert with a good friend of mine, who was organizing Andrew Harvey's talk and workshop in our town at that time. After this concert we met up with Andrew and Karuna Erickson. Both were running a workshop and promoting their recently co-authored work Heart Yoga: The Sacred Marriage of Yoga and Mysticism. Harvey is something of a rarity, once described as a combination of ‘Oxford aesthete and Eastern mystic’. He is a mystic who is also a rigorous thinker (and very fine writer).

The four of us chatted at length in a local lounge after the concert, and in the course of speaking with Andrew I mentioned to him my upcoming book (to be published later this year), Rude Awakening. Andrew was interested in the subject matter (even offering to write a Foreword for it) , and relayed how he’d recently attended a 2012 conference, in which while giving his talk at said conference, he became quite animated while expressing trenchant criticisms of certain of the ditzier elements of New Age thought, and especially how it pertains to 2012 matters.  

I have, admittedly, been loath to look at writings dealing with the so-called ‘2012’ phenomena, which draws its star-power from alleged Mayan ‘end-time’ prophecies -- and in particular, from the interpretation of these prophecies. Whenever I have glanced in that direction, I've seen little of interest, beyond a worried pre-occupation with the future (sort of the inversion of the academic historian's fixation on the past). That said, if I'm to choose between past or future as a topic of interest, I incline toward the past, because at least it is grounded in something (facts, or at worst, persuasive probabilities). Future is an unknown, and thus inevitably is approached by inference and speculation -- i.e., imagination. The prime reason I seldom read fiction anymore (well, for the past two decades or so) is because I'm not terribly interested in perceiving reality via someone else's imagination. If I'm to do that, I'd prefer the medium of film or theatre, where at least there are other angles of creativity present. (In to that mix I don't include classics, or just really good literary stuff -- which admittedly, is a matter of perception based on one's predilections). 

That said, I’m pleased to report that I recently discovered two pieces of writing on the 2012 matter that I found intelligent and engaging. The first is Richard Grossinger’s 2013: Raising the Earth to the Next Vibration (deceptively subtitled). The book is only marginally about 2012, prophecies, impending catastrophes, New Age simplistic dualism, and the like. (Which is why it is good!). It is more like an extended blog—and very extended, being some 600 pages—in which Grossinger wanders widely and freely along the byways of associative thinking ultimately connected to his take on the development of human consciousness, and especially how it is playing out now in these times of wildly exponential change. Grossinger can write, and with originality of thought; he is perhaps in some ways Robert Anton Wilson’s successor (with a touch of Kerouac and Harold Bloom-for-the-fringes. And he has been at this for some time; just the other day I stumbled upon a copy of his Waiting For the Martian Express, published in 1988, in a used book store, which, I daresay, contained writing equally original and incisive). The other work in this vein that I enjoyed was Daniel Pinchbeck’s 2012: The Return of Quetzalcoatl. Pinchbeck is a generation younger than Grossinger, and it shows in his writing, which while equally original, presents a vision that is perhaps a tad less seasoned. He is, however, a bit less of a poet than Grossinger, and so his writing is somewhat more straightforwardly journalistic, something than may be handled with greater ease by those less inclined to a writing style that is both multilayered and ‘electrically elegant’ (as Andrew Harvey aptly describes Grossinger’s prose).

The main problem with the whole 2012 thing, as I see it—and as generally presented by writers other than the two just mentioned—is that in some ways it functions as an elaborate type of disinformation. Prophecies (and related matters) are seductive in general because they relieve us of the strain of having to sustain attention in present time. There is nothing harder in life than consistently maintaining present-time awareness (and its troublesome sidekick, responsibility). Especially as we age, accumulating dust and detritus (debts, failed relationships, accumulated misgivings, health issues—the general entropic sweep of human life) as we go. There is a reason why people, in general, grow fatter or more prone to alcohol usage as they move into middle age and beyond. The stress of dealing with the sheer musty banality of life shoves most in the direction of seeking quick relief from said stress.

For New Agers, stress about present time reality can be a discomforting thing to confess to, because after all, the whole idea of being ‘spiritual’ is to live with a radical orientation toward both clarity of thought and the present moment. So New Agers generally resort to more sophisticated distractions from the more unbearable facets of their present-time life. A good one is prophecy; and especially, prophecy that is based on impending global changes, preferably catastrophic.

For a person whose life is ‘working’, running on all cylinders, the idea of a looming catastrophe is unappealing. But for one who lives in such a way that they perceive themselves as marginalized, or recognize (however dimly) themselves to be unwilling to be responsible for certain facets of their life, a great global change is not such a bad idea. Who cares if all hell breaks loose if your own life is already a train wreck?

I am not, I should emphasize, a cheerleader of a lifestyle that rejects any sort of participation in the world. The path of the monk—in the true sense—is not for most. Primarily because most people have key lessons to be learned in areas relating to responsibility—and by that, I’m not referring to a conventional conformity within the parameters of ‘Man-made reality’, but rather, with the simple coming to terms with the reality of being alive in a physical body sharing a realm along with many other physical bodies.

In all probability, 2012 (or 2013) will pass as every other year has, regardless of what we humans conjure up at that time (or regardless of what humanly manufactured dystopia or, perchance, natural disaster  comes our way). It is true that we live in a highly interesting time, featuring a population and technology spike unlike any other seen before. Where it is all going is anyone’s guess, though I suspect that John Michael Greer, in his The Long Descent, has as clear a view as any. But for one aspiring to be awake, the lesson remains the same: find the balance between mind and world. And remember our highest purpose for being alive.