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The Alchemical Wedding of Hiram Abiff

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John Eberly

The Alchemical Wedding of Hiram Abiff


INTRODUCTION (2015)



“You have to be always drunk. That’s all there is to it—it’s the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk. But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.

And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again, drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: “It is time to be drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish.”


—Charles Baudelaire


Arthur Rimbaud insisted that a derangement of the senses is necessary to experience Reality in its infinite expression, “…long, intimidating, immense and rational derangement of all the senses. The sufferings are enormous, but one must be strong…” This derangement may uncover layers of truth otherwise invisible to blindly accepted consensual understanding. Perhaps depending on the catalyst, it’s not derangement at all that occurs, but rather it is a clearer arrangement that is revealed, “If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, Infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro' narrow chinks of his cavern.”—as William Blake noted. Rimbaud goes on…

“I say that one must be a seer, make oneself a seer. The poet makes himself a seer by a long, prodigious, and rational disordering of all the senses. Every form of love, of suffering, of madness; he searches himself, he consumes all the poisons in him, and keeps only their quintessence’s. This is an unspeakable torture during which he needs all his faith and superhuman strength, and during which he becomes the great patient, the great criminal, the great accursed–and the great learned one!–among men.–For he arrives at the unknown! Because he has cultivated his own soul–which was rich to begin with–more than any other man! He reaches the unknown; and even if, crazed, he ends up by losing the understanding of his visions, at least he has seen them! Let him die charging through those unutterable, un-nameable things: other horrible workers will come; they will begin from the horizons where he has succumbed!”


–(as quoted in Melissa Kwasny, Toward the Open Field: Poets on the Art of Poetry)


The “great patient” seeks to heal himself and also to heal his world, his worlds, and all of their inhabitants, for they all exist only in and through him, and seeking for them elsewhere will only lead him back to himself. The “seer” or visionary is utterly alone in a universe of his own making.


Like Nikoli Gogol, he finds himself unique and at home, finally, in suffering and ecstasy alike. His countenance is that of the condemned sentenced to endure Lingchi, a slow and agonizing transformation, a realization of the extreme, the limit, and beyond. He is no longer “human” because such a concept cannot apply to the expansion and dissolution of body and soul. His spirit is exiled elsewhere, barely connected by a silver thread to the earth that witnesses and testifies for him, shielding and comforting by spreading evergreen limbs to protect him on his journey, a journey that may return him to himself, but never the same way twice. He stays connected, because there has never been anything but connection.


What has happened in fifteen years since I wrote this account (yes, I am Salarcanus) about Hiram Abiff (yes, I am Hiram)? In the words of the poet James Osterberg, “more disaster, more divorce,” including a profound willingness, an acceptance, a welcoming of any and all of the self-sacrificial forces of nature that course through a body, a life, extending in every direction with the unlimited love that is ever-present, in abundance, and available if there but remains the courage to ask for it to be shared. Passing this transformative love, the quintessence of all the poisons of existence, on and on, no longer questioning where it comes from, or where it may go next, this is the fruit of the tree planted back then. No boundaries.


But why bother writing something like this memorial, other than to preserve moments in time that were essentially timeless, that indeed, presently exist as such outside of time? The seed of this approach came through a conversation with Todd Pratum, both of us agreeing that it was high time that pseudo scholar–practitioners of arcane arts -such as myself!- might begin to write outside the framework of a “research paper.” Reporting experiential knowledge was required. In fact, I had already started down just such a path with papers like On Salt And Stars, and We Can Build You (see: Abiegnus, and Caduceus journals respectively).


At first I considered attempting to publish my alchemical journals, which consist of step by step recitations of experiments conducted in the lab with commentary and correlation to various old and new texts. Then I began to have dreams…and several interesting paths simultaneously converged as you will see as you read the account. This was truly a shotgun hermetic undertaking!

Most of the other participants in Hiram’s Wedding are still living, and I will respect the pseudonyms used in the recounting, only identifying now one of two who have since passed over. Several years before the Wedding took place, mutual friends invited us to meet at lunch one day, and over some steaming vittles we looked into each other’s eyes and recognized ourselves from other distant times.


I clearly saw Merlin, while looking at me, through me, he claimed to see John Dee. Thus began a wonderful friendship that was all too brief, although it has obviously spanned many centuries and will continue to do so. Merlin was and remains in my heart a kind and gentle soul, brilliant to the point of fiery if and when the occasion arises. His various achievements deserve to be more well-known. You can find his wonderful writings and talks all over the internet. The rest have scattered here and there yet are closer than the jugular vein, circumambulating the medicine wheel, while I remain, as always, deranged everywhere and in every way, your grateful and faithful servant.


Note: The author would like to acknowlege editor Arthur Versluis who originally published the Wedding in the journal Elixir (R.I.P.), an experimental, experiential arm of Esoterica.


THE ALCHEMICAL WEDDING OF HIRAM ABIFF As Told To The Scribe Salarcanus


Who says words with my mouth? Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul? I cannot stop asking. If I could taste one sip of an answer, I could break out of this prison for drunks. I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way. Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.


–Jelaluddin Rumi


This Order claimed absolute sovereignty over all others, and the system adopted closely resembled that of the ancient Egyptian mysteries. An important variation is made in this Rite as to Hiram Abif–instead of being murdered, he is reported to have returned to his family, and spent the rest of his life in ease and comfort.

–Kenneth Mackenzie, “Account of the History from Cagliostro to John Yarker” (Greenfield, Allen H. The Compleat Rite of Memphis, Luxor Press, Marietta, 1998, p 53.) In late 2000, Hiram Abiff was contacted by Secret Chiefs representing the European (western) Mystery Schools tradition and also South American Rain Forest Shamen and Native American Medicine Chiefs about performing a ritual designed to re-sacralize Turtle Island and bring together the great family of humanity. This would be accomplished through personal sacrifice, male solar energy joining female lunar energy resulting in universal healing through Love.


The European current represented in ceremony by the One carrying Merlin for the present age, his soror mystica, two representing Native and Central America, two others carrying both traditions forward,—and others present in corporeal form and also those who are present but invisible—through Hiram—would take on the responsible healing of Mother Earth/as/gateway/to/healing the/universe in collaboration with the indigenous Spirit that has never, and will never leave this place (the Americas).

For several years Hiram attuned himself through initiation and various stages and stations in Persian Sufism and also with plants/planets/stars through the making and alchemical use of natural tinctures and elixirs. His focus in alchemy was pointed and exact. He learned the physical nature of the universe while revealing the spiritual potential in matter. The use of plant/planetary essences corresponds with the S. American tradition of purification through “Vegetalista” or specific vegetable diets. The idea is to create a link between Earth nature and star power in the medium of the human, until a universal identification with, or recognition of (oneself as) Love emerges.


Radha, a master astrologist, assisted by working up charts of both Hiram’s birth, the ceremony, then known as simply “The Healing,” and a combination of birth chart with superimposed event chart. Several things emerged, that would later play out on the actual night of the ritual. The main message was that the evening’s Work would be successful, and that Hiram, although it would not be an “easy” passage for him between the worlds, would be protected, along with the others involved in the ritual/space.


Nightly the angels worked on Hiram. He gained instruction and guidance from the chiefs and shamans. Plans would be made, and changed depending on the shifting circumstances surrounding the protection of the event. It would be held at a consecrated medicine wheel deep in the heart of central Kansas on a Tuesday (Mars) night four days past the point when Ursae Majoris (The Big Dipper) is on the meridian (9 p.m. April 20). Hiram’s old friend and brother Solomon would assist him and journey along in his own fashion. The others present have been previously mentioned, or will enter into Hiram’s following narrative at will…


We find Hiram sitting in his home near Pasapa, the highest point in the region identified in dreams and waking states with the Axis Mundi, the center of the world. Just outside behind the 100 year-old cedars lies a crossroad, where once upon a full moon time Hecate appeared. His head is in his hands, he sits deep in meditation upon the I AM….

“I am an artist, a painter, musician, and writer, a family man. I have given myself in service to the One Most Holy, and have endured many many initiations in that Name.”

He lives in contact and union with their powers and godheads and remoulds himself in their image. Each ascent is thus a new birth of the soul, and the Veda calls the worldsbirths” as well as seats and dwelling places.


Sri Aurobindo “The Doctrine of the Mystics


“I recall a time not so long ago when I was called upon to reinvent the wheel of the universe round all that it turns, rolling forever like fire on the water, stardust in the moving sunlight.”

The candidate was ordered to enter the pyramid during the night, when he had to descend on his hands and knees through a narrow passage without steps, until he reached a cave-like opening, through which he had to crawl to another subterranean cave, on the walls of which he found inserted the following words: “The mortal who shall travel over this road alone without hesitancy or looking behind, shall be punished by fire, by water and by air, and if he can surmount the fear of death he shall emerge from the bosom of the earth.”


–Calvin Burt, 96th degree Rite of Memphis


Toad sent the plants for Hiram’s use as per the instructions of the main shaman: Mimosa hostilis also known as Jurema and used by the Truka and Atikum people (among other S. American tribes) to allow Jurema, the god of the jungle to ride the horse of the faithful in divine intoxicated possession. Also included was Peganum harmala (Syrian Rue) most recently identified as the soma (Iranian: haoma) of the ancient Hindu Rig Veda, and the Persian Avesta.

Indeed all other intoxications are accompanied by violence of the Bloody Club, but the intoxication of Haoma is accompanied by bliss-bringing Rightness.


Avesta: Yasna 10,8


It is related from the Prophet that over each leaf and seed of the isfand (haoma) plant an angel is appointed so that through its bark and roots and branches grief and sorcery are set aside.


Muhammad Baqir Majlisi (a Shi’a theologian)


Haoma grants a golden vision of the pure eternity, reputed to instill bravery and courage in the hearts of those who ingest the god/plant.

Wiraz washed his hands and body, put on fresh clothes, perfumed himself with scent and spread out a new carpet. His consumption of the three golden cups was accompanied by the invocations of Good Thought, Good Speech, and Good Action, according to the tenets of the faith. (Lying on his “flying carpet”) He remained in trance for seven days and nights while the priests and the faithful kept watch. During this time Wiraz’s soul traveled to another world, returning to his body only on the seventh day. When he awoke he asked for a meal in order to restore his strength and afterwards related all that he had seen in his visions to a waiting scribe.


Book of Arda Wiraz (3rd cent.?)


The last plant to go into the mixture was certainly not by any means the least, Ayahuasca, also known as Banisteriopsis caapi, or Yage the “grandfather plant” of all of the jungle entheogenic plants, and reputed to be perhaps (in combination with other plants such as chacruna, although I was instructed by the shaman that Mimosa hostilis was “a much more powerful” admixture plant) the most powerful hallucinogenic plant on the planet. It is the “vision vine” par excellance, reputed to produce telepathy between the plant world and that of the (inc. human) animal.

Intoxication induced by Caapi reduced the street-hardened heroin-addicted writer William S. Burroughs to total submission and mortal terror, in the words of Tim Plowman, protégé of ethnobotonist/travel writer Wade Davis (The Serpent and the Rainbow, One River, etc.) and fellow student of Prof. Richard Evans Schultes (who met Burroughs in S. America on his search for Ayahuasca/Yage/B. Caapi) “Yage is many things, but pleasant isn’t one of them.”


Hiram continues: “At 9 A.M. on Monday, April 23rd, 2001 after purifying the house with sage smoke, the ayahuasquero Luis Panduro Vasquez sang icaros of protection, accompanied only by his fan of dried leaves (chacapa), as I arranged all implements and vessels, along with the plant materials, and blew tobacco smoke over everything as I had been instructed. (the tobacco-blowing would continue through the various processes described:) I beat ten grams of the snake-like Mimosa hostilis vine to a pulp, ground three grams of Syrian Rue seeds to powder, and cut up stem pieces of the Ayahuasca, placing all in a quart-size vessel. I then hand squeezed two lemons, added about a quart of distilled water and poured this mixture over the sacred plants and sealed the vessel. I shook it until the contents bubbled and frothed and set it inside the refrigerator for overnight cold-extraction process.

At 8:30 the next morning (after sage purification) the bright red mixture was boiled down to one-third of a cup of blood-purple/brown colored brew. Tobacco smoke was periodically blown into the boiling rumble of a thousand bubble-eyes. The resulting plant essence was strained and set aside to cool.”

The rituals described in the Rig Veda and the Avesta centered on the preparation, purification and consumption of the plant, which was originally pounded in a stone mortar, strained through a sieve of bull’s hair, mixed with water and other ingredients, then consecrated to the gods before being consumed.

–Rudgley, Richard. Essential Substances: A Cultural History of Intoxicants in Society, Kodansha, New York, 1994, p 48) I journeyed to the center of Kansas, to the heartland containing the medicine wheel of universal healing. I had been on a diet of mainly fish and rice for a week and had been fasting for 36 hours when I arrived. To Merlin I gave a small amount of “Druid’s medicine” I had been able to extract from oak mistletoe. After a period of hatha yoga, meditation and prayer, and the rest had arrived and gathered for a communal meal in my absence, Isis, the Black Madonna who supplied the black Rooster Cup (the Cock related to Fire and male power, the cup an obvious symbol of the female) that would hold the vision medicine, purified my person, and (her husband) Solomon’s with Sage smoke.

…the Grail is a vase (grasale) and a book (gradale or graduale)…the book then becomes an inscription made by Christ or by an angel on the cup itself…this “ liquor of immortality”…collected by Joseph of Arimathea…(put in) the cup…symbolic of the heart (which is) schematized in the form of the inverted triangle.


Rene Guenon, Fundamental Symbols, p 20


Sol and I descended to the medicine wheel at 7:45 P.M. We arranged approximately 50 sticks of Frankincense incense around the SW corner of the wheel, and both of us in turn made our way in/around/and through the wheel, giving thanks and prayers at the cardinal points and offerings at the center. I sat on a red blanket covered with my power objects, stones, and plants, in the south by Coyote’s horned Mercury totem.

I slowly sipped the ayahuasca/mimosa/rue medicine for half and hour, smoking my tobacco pipe. Again the ayahuasquero Luis Panduro Vasquez sang icaros of protection, as I too worked circles around the area (although I admit I left a hole open for whoever, whatever would come!). Watching the sky, with Sol at my left on his own blanket w/pipes and power objects, we observed a dark cloud gather above us and begin to softly rain (only the astrologer-seer Radha among the group back up the hill at the house at this time saw the magical cloud, the rest only saw clear blue evening sky).

I identified this cloud with the Navaho shaman who consecrated the medicine wheel some years before (some of whose ashes were scattered at the wheel at his passing over), raining his blessing upon our Work. Now I saw the evening star appear, then many more in the purple sun-setting haze.

A grid began to appear one strand at a time, connecting grass with sky/star-beam (this was also the work of the Navaho shaman), a protective grid of lines cross-hatching over each other, appearing and disappearing. Sounds became distorted, the wind sweeping across the universe came swooshing through.

At 9 P.M. Sol stood up on my right as he was bending down lighting incense and announced the arrival of our friends coming down from the house. He moved across walking in their direction in front of me and morphed into three or four figures at once in which I recognized LZ, along with the aforementioned Navaho shaman, and? I turned and looked and saw the small parade of flashlights bouncing down the hill. Then I lost consciousness for eons, for vast, windblown eternities.


The golden spider god climbed down from the opening in the sky (M101, a beautiful 8th magnitude spiral galaxy 3 degrees NE of the Big Dipper forming an equilateral triangle with two stars of the dipper’s handle) held open by Merlin. I was in it’s golden burrow, stuck in the web (like inside a ball of golden twine) a trembling bug-consciousness. It clambered/ scurried down on swollen snake-tail legs (potentized by sperm, this is what the male spider does in order to impregnate the female) with a smaller spider accompanying him from right (where the hole was) to the left until it was in front and a little bit above my field of vision.


His appearance was extraordinary and immediately frightening…he was dazzling with an upright gold triangle “face” with a blazing eyeball in the center, staring at me. He was Yahweh, Christ, Buddha, Allah, all of the patristic God-energy. He asked “Are you sure this is what you really want?” I was so far gone into it and understood that this was all a part of the All, and all was ONE, so no need to reply (yet I did, in the affirmative). He “came in” (took up residence like Jubelum’s setting maul in/on my forehead) after awhile I was able to “show” him to Sol and some of the others.


…in Masonry it (the triangle w/ All Seeing Eye) is expressly placed between the sun and moon (corresponding to the right and left eye(s) of the Universal man) insofar as he is identified with the Macrocosm..it represents the “eye of the heart…(and) also represents a seed contained in the heart…the “kernal” or “seed of immortality.”


Rene Guenon, Fundamental Symbols, pp 294-295.


Grotesque imagery followed, layer upon layer, world upon world, undulating, pushing/pulling, jockeying for position. Lots of grimacing, threatening “demons,” but also beautiful organic landscapes populated by beings of light. All of the visions were nature-based, harmonious and definitely of this place yet often out of context and in various unimagined combinations/mutations/arrangements. At a point later on I mentioned to Sol how the demons were manageable, they only came, after all, to play, and “they will show you absolutely anything that you want to see.”

I opened my eyes. I had been laying down for what seemed like hours. The group had built a small fire to my left in the fire pit (approximately 50 feet away) and sat around it in perfect silence. A cool breeze blew from the SE and I asked Sol to cover me with a sleeping blanket. I pulled it up over my face, just allowing a slit to look out from. The stars were dazzling, reassuring in their immobility (although there were lots of real–and imagined—falling stars/comets that night) their light sometimes streaking by in tracers, at other times seeming to expand into transparent spheres/worlds.

It was as if I could move out among them, as they were part of the universal grid, and I was as well. I asked Sol–who variously shape-shifted from very tall to equally short, hunch-backed, and sometimes on all fours—to check on the others and take care of their needs. I understood that I could function on many levels at once, carrying on a reasonable conversation and traversing several dimensions/planes and conversing with the fantastic all at the same time. Suddenly I felt like I had to vomit.

I crawled away in the dark on all fours and lost control of my bodily functions (but I didn’t vomit). With a certain amount of horror/disgust I had Sol take me behind the bushes to clean myself up as best I could. We stumbled back to the wheel and I lay down again and bundled up. I noticed that I could focus and pull in healing energy (from the stars? It was more of a universal energy than specifically that which was coming from “the stars.”) and direct “beams” of it upon various members of the group that had asked for healing. Other manners of healing energy came through, for the entire group, and at different times for specific individuals. This energy spread out to encompass the All, coming from it and returning to it all at once.

Merlin had asked a specific question about a stone left in his forehead. I saw it as his third eye, winking and blinking at me! Once I felt like a huge hole, or conduit through which pure Love flowed. I held that for awhile. It seemed that so many of these “gifts” were shown to establish an astral link with natural phenomena, bringing the two together (with the knowledge that they do not exist independently of one another). Merlin said later that he saw a UFO above Polaris. My focus at this time was right there. “That’s where I saw you.” He said.


The (Taurus) horned Mercury totem had tassles on it that rattled in the wind. I was aware by the rattling that when Sol left my side for awhile, Coyote (whose ashes are also at this medicine wheel) would watch over me. I was constantly aware of the others and concerned about their well-being. The fire was stoked, and I asked Sol to play the Arvo Part CD (“Fur Alina”). In awhile Thor began to play the drum…and he was masterful at it! Between the plaintive violin/piano of Part, and the heartbeat of Mother Earth coming through the drum, I stayed grounded with eyes on the stars for an hour or so.

The fire died down and one of the torches–the western one—was lit (there were two, one in the east and one in the west). My encounter with the patristic god-consciousness I will refer to from now on as Spiderman (although later I would realize that it was also Grandmother Spider of the Hopis carrying the male power. The golden Spiderman’s eye in the triangle when joined to the inverted triangle of the feminine unconscious power conjures up the image of the spider-sun in the center of his web/star of David) had left me dazzled, and flames/fire of any kind were nearly unbearable.

I had to pull up the sleeping bag over the left side of my face to block out the torch. When I would look and could concentrate on the people there, they were all quietly focused on the torch. The combination of the torch and the group’s attention upon it was overwhelming. I had another crawling/stumbling-near vomiting episode and wound up directly behind the bushes maybe twenty feet from my original spot lying head south, feet north on my blanket. Sol helped me, and I just lay down under mother cedar there, the ground under me comforted and welcomed my shape in a small depression big enough for my body (now lying head east, feet west).

Nature shall come to him as a willing and longing bride…


Sri Aurobindo “The Doctrine of the Mystics


“I think I’ll stay here awhile” Sol agreed it was a good spot and went after my sleeping bag to cover me with. This spot was especially (psychically) protected, and dark. Sol stayed with me awhile, and I had him lay down beside me and look at the stars. I told him about Spiderman, that he carried the Jehovah/Christ/Buddha/Allah current, and that he was now integrated in me. I put three fingers of my right hand on his forehead so that he could see him (which he did). After a bit I told him to go join the others and check on their needs. When Sol was absent, as he had before, Coyote (whose totems I have mentioned we were using at the cardinal points and center of the medicine wheel that night) would stay with me. (I had sensed his presence in the south totem earlier, see above.) He had a good sense of humor, and thought it very funny that I’d shit my pants!

I was feeling grateful and looked up at the star/grid and golden web of light and tree and started to say thanks but in this pure loving state realized who should I thank? Who exactly is thanking whom? It is all Itself. It seeks itself, finds itself in itself and in finding, there is the thanks. Felt the transience of mortal time, and the ages-old patience of the stars, and the Love behind it all, wrapping around it all from the inside out.


The stars were even more magnificent out in the dark! Once I noticed how the Dipper hooks up with a faint group of stars to make “horns.” With the bull-horned center post totem and the horned one in the south nearest me (to begin with) at the medicine wheel, male energy abounded, as Radha had predicted. (All of this happened of course under the sign/time of Taurus.) The tree was keeping a protective eye on me, and also the prairie grasses blowing in the wind by my face. With the cool earth below, and a cool breeze blowing over me, I was grounded and comfortable.

The visions kept coming if/ when I closed my eyes, and sometimes overlapped when I opened them: all manner of Central-American/Mexican iconography and traditional Mayan, Olmec, Toltec, Aztec, etc. artwork, carvings appeared. Lots of writhing snakes and undulating natural forms both mineral, plant life and animal. Alien beings, fairies, carnival revelries, masks, …way too many images to name, thousands of them crowding in. At one point I was taken into a small chamber and was shown “Death’s Door.” Instead of reacting with fear, I had been given a “key” by Merlin earlier, and simply said “I love you” (death) and with that I passed through the portal and beyond.


When keeping my eyes closed, the visions became overwhelming (didn’t often take long, and I was getting physically exhausted) I’d pop open my eyes and eventually stare again in wonder at the stars. Sometimes they would move with grand tracers following, at other times they were luminous spheres, like soap bubbles reflecting light. But they were always there, reassuringly “real” like the earth cradling me underneath.

The next time he checked on me, I told Sol that certain people might come back and see me if they wanted to. Mary, who has a close relationship with the angels, was first, and lay down beside me. I put my three fingers on her forehead and she saw Spiderman, Whooosh!! She was blasted into the starry night. (She kept reflecting on the beauty of the night/sky) She exclaimed once that the little cedar tree was protecting me! (This was clairvoyantly obvious to her.)

Mary left and next came Radha and I asked her to lay by me. She remarked that this reminded her of when she was a kid. She got it! I had mentioned to Sol earlier that I was remembering things from when I was around 8 years old. Then I said to Radha we’re just star babies. The stars are ancient parents/great great (to infinity) grandparents watching their babies below. They never take their eyes off of us. We’re starseeds.

Without our Star/Sun there wouldn’t be life on earth. I told Radha about Spiderman and when I mentioned the golden web she said “The Web of Life!” I put three fingers on her forehead, but unlike Sol and Mary, I sensed a lot of spirals there, inward/outward, (Merlin had mentioned seeing these same spirals if he concentrated his attention for a period of time upon certain wall spaces) and was not sure what she might “see” if anything…I couldn’t transfer Spiderman… My mouth was getting dry from talking a lot. I took a sip of water (this was always risky because it often brought on dry heaving—probably I should’ve simply rolled it around a bit and spit it out.)

After Radha left, Sol brought Thor. He lay down and we talked a bit. He asked if I’d seen anything “strange.” I replied that I wouldn’t know where to start! There are not enough books on the planet to hold all of the information I had received. While he was there I began feeling sick again. When I put three fingers on his forehead, I got pictures of stones and designs on stones.

Then it was as if I pulled something dark out of him. Waves of nausea overcame me. I sat up and made it to all fours to dry heave while he patted my back. I only had to spit a little (but was conscious that this was the “darkness”). Then I settled back down on the ground in my “spot.” Thor placed his right palm on my forehead and it grounded me. When Sol came for him I asked to rest awhile, which I did after a fashion. The visions continued and a fly buzzed first on my left side, then my right, coming and going. Something rustled in the bushes to my left, and I had the distinct impression that a snake might crawl in w/me! Then I settled in and dozed a bit. Sol checked on me and said just sleep. But I couldn’t anymore.

After awhile I told him in maybe 15 minutes I’d join the now small group at the fire (it was now near 1 AM). Isis was the only one left of the original group, but just before the others had left, Boaz, Sol and Isis’s eldest son and Chris arrived, and it felt as if fresh psychic reinforcements had come! Chris offered prayers and Boaz stoked the fire. When I did raise myself assisted by Sol and stumble out to the medicine wheel area,—after communing with Chris through our smiling eyes—I could sit and stare into the fire for maybe 5, 10 minutes, then I had to crawl away and lay flat again.

After the nausea passed, I called for Sol to take me up to the house. Isis gave me a heart/hug and I patted Boaz to give and receive and thank him for being there. We stopped at every cedar en route, pulling energy and protection from the wonderful trees. Boaz joined us walking up and helped get me in the house. I took a shower, put on clean clothes, and joined Sol in the living room. By now I was nearly all the way back to myself. Isis, Chris, and Boaz closed the medicine wheel for the night, carefully folding my blanket over my power objects, and straightening the area.


I sipped a coca cola and we all talked—at one point Chris had to leave, and we hugged as I thanked him for his essential presence in this ritual. He is high up in the agency hierarchy of Love and Compassion…as are Sol and Isis, and many others who could not be there in the body but were very much present, like Delsie out in Crestone, Rann in Kansas City, Skate in Santa Fe, and my wife and kids back home… I went into a sound sleep at 5 A.M., woke up refreshed at 9 A.M., did some yoga and meditated on the dust motes in the sunbeams falling in through the window, deepening my understanding of Merlin’s Butterfly research.

I felt great, empowered, and vigorous. Went back to the medicine wheel, gave thanks, offerings of rose water, my sage bundle and prairie grass bundle, cleaned up my mess and packed up my sacred objects and blanket, and headed back up to the house. By then Sol was up and going out for a walk. I gave him a hug and good morning and thank you. Oh my Lord, what would have happened without Sol’s constant attention and help and love? Our brotherhood deepened and our mirror-hearts and minds merged…we have enjoyed spiritual Sohbet (mystical union and conversation) for several years now, but now we delight in the Seal of the Friend…Gratitude is such a small word when what I felt was so extremely large…It is like the experience of Itself thanking Itself.

I went in and embraced Helga who was reading on the couch. We held each other awhile before gazing into glad-eyes. She had made me a pot of “original Irish porridge” to break my fast with. It was delicious, my first food in over 36 hours. Sol and Isis joined us, then later Merlin and Boaz. We all sat and discussed the previous evenings events. For days preceding the night ritual, Helga had been visiting the medicine wheel every morning. She saw an “Indian Chief” at Council Grove the week before that, at a point on the lake I know. He followed her back to the wheel!

The morning I arrived he was accompanied by two others, and she sensed that they were there for me. The morning after the night just described, she said they were not at the wheel any longer, however, she was told that by going through this ordeal I was now a “Universal Healer.” I had been describing how I was able to direct a star/light beam right on various members of the group that night who had either specifically asked for healing, or who were in need of it anyway (including Sol’s brother Joachim).

In my “state” I could focus will and intent on specific healing, however, as Helga had been “told” the point was really the healing of all creation, the entire universe and everything in it, pouring unconditional Love into every aspect of life. Now I don’t need to do anything unusual in order to perform this work, just do what I naturally do. Throw away all of your books! At another point she stated that the “ordeal” had had the effect of bringing the sacred Native American spirit back to the area, honoring it by our presence now, All Our Relations who are spiritually receptive and who will carry on this work here now.

Spider spreads out legs in eight directions and mirrors the Sun dazzling in it’s own silver web of light. Some cultures see Spider as the first One, extending a thread-like umbilical cord connecting Creator with creation…a Jacob’s Ladder where the angels go up and down and it’s impossible to tell the sky from the ground while Hiram rides the infinite Wheels of Golden Spider Fire around and around.


Of that beatitude Soma is the representative deity. The wine of his ecstasy is concealed in the growths of earth, in the waters of existence; even here in our physical being are his immortalizing juices and they have to be pressed out and offered to all the gods; for in that strength these shall increase and conquer.

Sri Aurobindo “The Doctrine of the Mystics” At last there must come a moment when his whole being is swallowed up in fatigue, overwhelmed by its own inertia. Let him sink…into the blackness of unconsciousness; and then on coming to himself, let him write down soberly and accurately a record of all that hath occurred.


Aleister Crowley


Postscript: The Circle Closes...


A week or so after the Wedding, Sol was contacted by a Seeker after Truth. Following an initial introductory exchange, she was sent to Hiram…After their first meeting, they both came away with no recollection of having even seen the other, as if they were gazing at a blinding light instead of the other's face. They both initially dismissed the encounter as meaningless. However, an intense period of lucid dreaming followed in which both parties joined to explore the many levels of a particular “church,” Hiram often pulling up the Seeker to a higher level, or removing obstacles in order to allow the other to enter and make herself feel at home in a new found space.


In response to a question, Hiram sent her the following reply:


When the heavenly dew (nitre) is joined with the eternal matrix and Spirit is made manifest in a body, the alchemist’s solve et coagula is complete, the sunburst of the “Glad Day” pierces and joins the Moon and the Philosopher’s child is born. Spirit, ephemeral, mercurial, invisible, suddenly dances the created light in a whiff of smoke spiraling upwards, and “All that endures is His face”–al-Qu’ran…Another mask of creation enters the play, an boy howdee!

Does Spirit ever like to play! Soon it finds there are so many many toys to play with…so little time, so many toys! And I want them all!! Mine! Mine!! And so it goes until the drive of spirit to play hard spends the vehicle and it must go awandering again in search of union with something “other.” Until Spirit knows itself to be “other” it will pass through many bodies before this realization occurs and something else indeed happens…the creative urge moves from continually obsessing with forms (or “other”) into service to Creation. 1. Possession 2. Obsession 3. Service. All chakra energy unites into Service to the One. Kundalini crucifix-eye-On At-One-Ment.

Universal orgasm achieved. (See “Why Mrs. Blake Cried” et al). Last night I whispered something to myself in a dream. Who was talking? Who listened? The juice is on the loose. Are you thirsty? Want some kool-aid, or do you wanna Go to the Living Water? (See XVII, “The Star” in the Tarot). “Why not help one another along the way, make it much easier, just a little bit easier” (—Bob Marley, “Positive Vibration” ye-ah). We all just need to try ta Keep a Light touch.


Something she had long forgotten was remembered after this, and a series of synchronistic events occurred. Hiram asked her birth date in order to work up a chart…April 24…He was astounded. She sent him the outline of a novel she had begun six years prior..(see Appendices) which described the basic premise for the Alchemical Wedding that had taken place in 2001 on her birthday. Hiram then shared with her the account of the Wedding, recognizing Spirit moving to complete the ritual Work through the recognition of the Soror Mystica.

At their second physical meeting, a dimensional shift occurred in space/time and each definitely Saw the other, for a few seconds recognizing the mirror of Spirit dissolving any distance which might have remained between them.

The aim of ecstacy is to purify the soul of guilt.

Plato At their third meeting (over the date commemorating the Assumption of Christ), they completed the Work via the Shri Yantra, entering into the bindu of Godhead and disappearing completely in each other. Hiram asked if she had ever allowed the Christ to live inside of her…As she fumbled for an impossible answer, Spirit caused his face to morph into that of Christ. She drew a quick breath, hand covering her mouth as she gasped, “the Face of the Beloved”.

Hiram assumed the godform of Shiva, and she became his Shakti, lost in eternal embrace, spinning endless worlds of light through vast expanses of space…male solar energy joining female lunar energy resulting in universal healing through Love, closing the circle of the Working, opening the door to unimaginable miracles.




Source

https://hermetic.com/eberly/the-alchemical-wedding-of-hiram-abiff