The five "clairs": Identifying and developing psychic senses

Remember learning about the five senses as a schoolkid?  Psychic ability is often considered to be a sixth sense, and that's one way to think of it.  But there is a more precise construction, which posits five psychic senses that correspond to the five physical senses.  These are sometimes called "the five 'clairs,'" after the French word stem that they all share.  Today, we're going to define all five, and discuss how they're used and different ways to develop them.

Clairvoyance ("clear sight").  Clairvoyance is the ability to see objects remotely, or to receive other true visual impressions through visions or dreams. Clairvoyance is probably what comes to mind first when people think of psychic abilities.  This makes sense, because for most of us, sight is the sense we rely on the most to navigate the world.  There are many sub-categories of clairvoyance.  Clairvoyant information most often comes spontaneously, through brief flashes of mental pictures.  The skill of a trained remote viewer is a very focused kind of clairvoyance.  Clairvoyant ability is what allows certain people to see auras and subtle energy, spirits, elementals, and other discarnate beings.  We can even classify mystics and religious visionaries as clairvoyants, if we're willing to venture that the realms they access have some external validity.

Some clairvoyants see things with their physical eyes open.  Some see them as mental images or behind closed eyes.  Some can receive images at any time; others get visions only in a trance or dream state.  (No way is better than another.)  Visions vary in intensity, too.  They can be as crisp and colorful as a movie, or lack detail, color, definition or motion.

Clairvoyance and other psychic gifts are almost certainly inborn, to some extent--but it is also possible to strengthen and develop your abilities through practice.  Clairvoyance is traditionally linked to the third eye chakra, so try searching for practices designed to stimulate and develop it.  (Too many to cover here.) Visualization exercises are a great way to improve the clarity of your visions (and enhance dreaming and artistic ability, besides).  And of course, if you're ready for it, scrying is one of the best ways to learn to awaken and control clairvoyant functioning at will.

Clairaudience ("clear hearing").  Clairaudience, or psychic hearing, is a gift that is similar to, but distinct from clairvoyance.  Clairaudients can hear sounds playing elsewhere, or receive spoken messages from beyond the range of normal hearing.  Have you ever sat down next to a friend, and "heard" a song playing, only to find out she had that song stuck in her head?  That's one example of clairaudience.  (All five of the "clairs" can involve telepathic contact, but "hearing" the thoughts of others in proximity to oneself is one of the most common forms of telepathy.)  Some, but not all mediums have clairaudient abilities that allow them to hear spirits' voices.  (Mediums who are clairvoyant, but not clairaudient, prefer to communicate through symbols and gestures.)

Clairaudients sometimes report hearing ancillary sounds, such as ringing or buzzing, that accompany the onset of psychic hearing.  Sometimes there is speech that isn't easily discernible--a murmur just outside of the range of hearing, or several voices speaking at once.  This is said to be most common when clairaudience is undeveloped or just awakening.

Needless to say, the process of developing or discovering clairaudience can be disorienting and frightening.  I suppose this is true of all psychic perceptions, but more so with clairaudience because the experience can be so similar to symptoms of mental and physical illnesses.  Of course, diagnosis of these ailments should be left to the professionals, and you should get help if you're concerned about your health.  However, if you find that strange audio perceptions occur when you're feeling spiritually open (e.g. during meditation or when you're around new people and places) and not the rest of the time, that may help rule out the more mundane causes.

People with clairaudient gifts can focus and improve their abilities through the process of sound scrying.  Similar to visual scrying, a device--a seashell or glass held to the ear, rushing water, or a white noise generator--helps creates a blank space of sound through which clairaudient impression can manifest.  Automatic writing is another way to learn to focus the flood of words into a usable stream.  Clairaudience is linked to the throat chakra, so again, you could try searching for practices to stimulate and strengthen that psychic center.

Clairsentience ("clear feeling").  Clairsentience has got to be the most common psychic phenomenon. Who hasn't had a bad feeling about a person or place, that later turned out to be completely correct? Clairsentience covers a broad range of bodily sensations that provide with information about people, places, and decisions.  This information comes through in the form of tickling or tingling sensations, changes in temperature, and pleasant or unpleasant "gut feelings."  The ability to experience intuitive leaps without any sensory information has another name, claircognizance--but mind and body are so closely linked that this distinction is mainly theoretical.  Both clairsentient and claircognizant folks describe the phenomenon of "just knowing" things, without being able to describe where this knowing comes from.

Some clairsentient people are sensitive to the energy of places or objects--they may have trouble remaining around places that have a buildup of negative energy, without necessarily being able to say why.  Clairsentients who pick up on the emotions of people and animals are also known as empaths.  Often, the pain or emotion an empath's body picks up from others can seem so real, it's hard to separate from their own experiences.  This isn't reserved for the extraordinary few.  Anyone who's ever had a close physical relationship--as a parent, as a lover--has experienced an intermingling of energies at least bordering on clairsentience.

Clairsentience is probably the most widespread of the psychic gifts--it would seem that nature has endowed all conscious beings with the ability to "feel" danger, and also to experience connection with others.  But because it's so subjective, it can be hard to learn to trust hunches and feelings.  One really "out there" clairvoyant experience is usually enough to convince someone of the reality of psychic abilities, but clairsentient experiences tend to be less evidentiary.  Clairsentient awareness builds over time, as you learn what different feelings mean to you, and as you gather that your impressions are usually correct.

Clairsentience is associated with the heart chakra (especially in the form of empathy) and with the solar plexus chakra (the source of the proverbial "gut feeling").  Dowsing (e.g., with a pendulum) can be an ideal divination method for those who have strong clairsentient impressions, but perhaps lack the visualization

Clairalience ("clear smelling").

The last two "clairs" are the least often discussed, but they can be very useful, especially as supplementary skills.  Biology tells us that smell and taste are our oldest senses, the ones connected with our animal past.  In human beings, they're somewhat atrophied.  Most other creatures routinely gather information about their environments through smell, but for us, this ability is so rare that it seems to border on the supernatural.

In folklore, clairalience is most often associated with spirit presence.  It's very common for the dead to announce their presence with a whiff of a familiar perfume or tobacco.  In the realm of ceremonial magic, scent also plays an important role.  Many spirits, gods, and astral places have fragrances that are associated with them, and the proper incense or perfume can be used either as a tool to draw them near, or as a signal of their presence.

If you want to develop your sense of psychic smell, try meditating to get back in touch with this vestigial sense.  When you smell something, you're actually taking molecules of it into your body through the air.  How weird is that?  (And yet, its an apt description of how we move through the mundane and psychic worlds alike, never isolated, always taking in and putting out stuff.)  Close your eyes and see how many smells you can discern in the room around you. You can also practice "visualizing" (or recalling) familiar smells, trying to recreate them in your mind as vividly as possible.

Clairgustance ("clear tasting").

Clairgustance is the least-discussed of the five "clairs"--I've never met anyone who claims to be a gifted third-generation clairgustant.  I once heard a phone psychic describing the experience of tasting the peanut butter sandwich one of her clients had been eating before the call--but that's the only example I can think of.  Taste and smell are very similar, biologically speaking, so I would imagine that anything said about clairalience would also apply to clairgustance.

In conclusion, I'd like to point out that this discussion of the five "clairs" is meant to be helpful for identifying and exploring a variety of psychic gifts.  Obviously, these categories are somewhat arbitrary and the boundaries are blurry--so there's no point in getting hung up on them.  For instance, if you ask a question and hear the spoken answer "yes," is that clairaudience or clairsentience?  In a vision, you smell an orange so clearly it makes your mouth water--are you developing your clairalience or clairgustance?  And so on.  Have fun!

Scrying past lives

So, we've all heard of scrying in order to peer into the future--but what about the past?  As in, past lives?  Let's look at one of the other well-known uses of magic mirrors--catching a glimpse of who you were in previous incarnations.  This exercise hinges on the "change-your-face" method of scrying, which, in turn is a variation of the Troxler effect.  (The optical phenomenon which causes objects in your field of vision to fade or change when gazed at.)  Some people believe it can act as a catalyst to help reveal the faces of previous incarnations to the scryer.

 Personally, I remain a bit skeptical of the whole concept of past-life regression.  Mainly, I think that if reincarnation happens--and it probably does, in some form--it's got to be more complicated than the linear progression of costume changes thought up by New Age authors.  (I mean, we already know that time and space operate in totally trippy ways, so why should the progress of souls be so neat and tidy?)  Also, I'm not sure how spiritually productive regression is, even if it works.  From what I've observed, discussion of past lives is too often used as a doorway to escapist fantasy, or a convenient way to rationalize bad behavior in this life.  And arguably, there's a good reason that we don't remember (much) about past life experiences once we're born into our current body.  It's an underrated gift to get a fresh start with a new lifetime, to be able to focus on the here and now.

But I don't mean to dismiss the practice of past-life exploration.  At the very least, it's pretty harmless way to pass the time and explore parts of your self that may be hidden.  And we can't ignore the fact that some people find (re)discovering their past lives to be genuinely instructive and inspiring.  I think that if you're going to go that route, scrying is the best method.  Plumbing your own past-life memories is way more reliable than other ways you could go about it, such as getting a past-life reading from a psychic or being regressed by a hypnotist. This way, you're not allowing someone else to directly influence your perceptions or memories via suggestion.  Even if you don't have memories of past lives, or don't believe that you've lived before, this exercise can have value.  You can use this technique to explore hidden sides of your personality, or simply as a way to feel connected to people with bodies and lives different from your own.

Okay.  To scry past lives:

Use a black mirror, if you have one, or a regular mirror in a dim room, ideally at night.  If you already have a reflective medium that you prefer, such as water or crystals, then by all means use that.  The idea is to have a surface that allows you to gaze at your facial features, but not so clearly that you start counting your pores or something.  Set up a dim light source, such as a single candle placed behind you, a lamp draped with a cloth, or moonlight, if you're so lucky.  (You may have to experiment to find the right lighting.)  Seat yourself comfortably upright, with the mirror propped up at an angle or held in your hands.

Once you're all situated, the next step is relaxation.  Take some deep breaths, and clear your mind of all worries, distractions, and expectations of what you're going to see.  (You might also want to review some of my scrying basics.)  Then gaze gently at your reflection.

At first, you'll see your face.  Your face is unique in the world, and your response to your own reflection is unique to this moment.  Take a minute to note your reaction to your own image.  Does it please you, startle you, make you feel critical?  Does it look familiar or unfamiliar? What is your facial expression?  Then, once you've had these thoughts about your face, let go of them.  Continue to focus on your reflection without thinking anything, concentrating on your breath if it helps.

At some point, the image will change, fade or disappear.  This may happen right away, or it may take a rather prolonged period of gazing at your refection.  The first sign of success is often dissociation:  You see your features, but they seem arbitrary, as if you were looking at a photo of a stranger.  Sometimes the face will fog over or black out, or the features may shift, morph, or swim.  Your reflection may appear to change gender or skin color.  This sight can be jarring, but if you can hang onto your focus, then the vision has begun.

If you're having trouble detaching yourself from the reflection, try this visualization:  As you look at your reflection in the mirror, imagine yourself getting younger and younger.  Any wrinkles or other signs of aging begin to disappear, as if you were slowly rewinding a time-lapse video of your life.  With each breath you take, the curves on your face soften, and your features grow larger in proportion to your face.  See yourself as a young adult, then as a child, an infant, and finally, just a field of darkness.  Know that the darkness is teeming with life, and that your face is about to re-emerge in a different form.  Then watch the emptiness and wait for what comes next.

You may find yourself gazing at one still face, or several in quick succession.  Like strangers on the bus, some will evoke no real response, while others will give you the feeling that you know them intimately.  If you see someone with whom you feel especially connected, try to go a little deeper into the vision.  See if you can transfer your awareness to that other person.  What does it feel like to inhabit his or her specific face and body?  Do you feel strong or weak, fat or thin?  Are there any sounds, smells, or physical sensations that stand out to you? What are you wearing, and what are you doing?  If your scrying vision is sufficiently developed, you may be able to look out at your surroundings, and even explore or interact with them.  If not, even just seeing another face looking back from a mirror can be a powerful moment.

When you've seen enough, it's time to return to your own body.  Step back from the vision the same way that you entered. With your physical eyes, see the face reflected in the mirror, and remember that it is yours.  Will your eyelids to open and shut, your nose to wiggle, etc., and see the face in the mirror dutifully respond. Take a few cleansing breaths, and put the mirror away in a safe place.  The final step is to write down what you've experienced.  If you're good at drawing (or even if you're not, who cares?) you could sketch a little portrait of the folks you've seen or been.

Happy trails, y'all,

M

Consulting the magic iPhone (Some thoughts on blank screen scrying)

Did you know that you can scry with an iPhone or other electronic device?  Yep--its partially reflective surface makes a perfectly suitable dark mirror.  You already know you can use these devices to view distant places and things, get answers to almost any question, and communicate with people all over the world.  But that's kid stuff.  No, this post is about using your phone, tablet, computer or television screen with the power off.

Like any other scrying tool, the digital black mirror has its advantages and its weaknesses.  Let's start with the disadvantages.

Cons: 

Aesthetic reasons.  I think electronics--all electronics--are ugly and a magical buzzkill.  I spend enough time staring at screens that I don't want them anywhere near me when I'm trying to relax and transcend.  The beauty and mystique of good scrying tools is totally absent from personal electronics.  Also, some people think that these devices emit vibrations that can interfere with psychic work.

The potential for distraction.  A crystal ball is good for about two things that I can think of--playing catch with yourself, and scrying.  With a phone, there's always the temptation to turn it on and start watching shark videos instead.

Fragility.  Phone screens pick up dust and scratches easily, and there goes your nice blank scrying surface. Flat black surfaces can be challenging for beginners anyway.  Add some distracting surface scratches and you're totally screwed.

Pros:

Convenience.  This scrying device is handy at all times--you probably have one in your pocket or on your desk right now.  You don't have to buy or tote anything extra to get your Nostradamus on.

Rebellion.  There's something kind of fun and subversive about using a media feeding device for an unintended purpose.  Yeah, scrying's passive, too--but at least it's a personal exploration instead of a reflexive consumption of mass media.

Discretion.  There are times--on the subway, in the breakroom--when busting out your scrying tools would make you look like a weirdo.  But a phone or iPod makes an excellent stealth mirror.  It's not at all strange to see people staring raptly into their handheld screens.  Nobody has to know yours isn't on.

Learning aids.  You can download various apps (like iScry) which generate relaxing patterns of smoke, water, or flame to help get you into the right frame of mind.  Try searching your app store for "scry" "hypnosis" if a blank screen doesn't quite work for you.  (Try that with obsidian.)

Good luck!

How long should a scrying session last?

Since we've been covering some of the basics of scrying, I'd like to hone in on one basic question that hasn't been discussed here:  How long should you do it?  The answer, obviously, is "It depends." But that makes for rather a boring blog post, so allow me to elaborate a little.

Most authors recommend ten to twenty minutes to begin with, and never more than an hour.  That's solid advice, though somewhat conservative.  The risk of scrying too long is mainly of burnout. There can also be some undesirable side effects from long sitting: stiff back and neck, eyestrain, headaches, and the dreaded "third eye fatigue"--the achy tension that comes from OD'ing on psychic work.  The best idea I've heard is to alternate scrying with a complementary practice, like a healing exercise or a moving meditation.  That way, you can take a day or two off from scrying if you're not feeling up to it, but stay in the habit of daily practice.

Also, although daily practice is advisable, some sources admonish against sitting more than once per day.  I've been known to break this rule at times--like when I'm lucky enough have a whole day set aside for spiritual practice--but I do see the wisdom in it.  It's easy to get sucked into an inner life that can harbor delusions and cut you off from the rest of the world.  Occult practice has to be part of a healthy balanced lifestyle--along with eating, bathing, going to work, and having conversations with people who are actually incarnate.  Yoga folks talk knowingly about "bliss junkies"--newbies who, having tasted a bit of mind/body integration, want to spend every waking hour on the mat chasing that high.  I'm sure it's equally possible to become a crystal crackhead or mirror fiend.  Self-imposed limits are good insurance against obsession, especially if you have an addictive personality.

Keep in mind that time distortion in either direction is a normal part of the scrying process.  Fifteen minutes can seem like an eternity--and not just when you're bored.  Sometimes the visions come so quickly and encompass so much, that it doesn't seem possible that only a few moments have elapsed.  If you've ever had an epic dream between hitting the snooze button and hearing the alarm, then you understand this perfectly.  Conversely, in certain states, an hour can feel like minutes.  Screwy.

Speaking of which, should you set a timer for your sessions?  Personally, I'm of two minds on this one.  I've sometimes found timers to be helpful, mainly because of the time distortion effect mentioned above.  Knowing that my alarm is set frees my mind from the distracting worry that the whole afternoon may be slipping away.  It also keeps my usual drowsiness from turning into a three-hour nap.  On the other hand, the minute I hit on something really good, that alarm is bound to go off and jar me out of my carefully cultivated trance.  A solution might be to try one of those progressive-tone "gentle" alarm clocks that they sell at home stores (or probably in app form these days).

One thing I've noticed is that many writers assume your sessions will get longer over time--e.g., starting with five or ten minute sessions and working up to a full hour.  True, it takes some discipline and focus to sit for more than a few minutes.  And it's true that as you have more vivid and immersive experiences, you'll want to spend more time with them--scrying will seem less like practice and more like play.  But I'd like to point out that as you gain more experience with accessing various altered states, your sessions may actually get shorter.  I guess you can compare it to learning to change the oil in your car, or cut up a chicken, or any other learned skill.  When you're first trying it, your going to be relatively slow and clumsy compared to when you've mastered it.  If it takes a full twenty minutes to relax your body and empty your mind for scrying, then a twenty minute session is not going to be long enough for you.  But if you become more facile and can access the same state in five minutes, then a twenty minute sitting might be plenty.

Finally, with all this talk about timing, it bears mentioning that scrying sessions can end themselves--quite naturally, as it often happens.  It's normal to go into a scrying state willfully and gradually, and back out with the same gentleness.  You can observe it and even, with practice, control it--like a scuba diver adjusting her depth.  Sometimes your conscious mind will intrude and tell you that it's time to stop.  Sometimes, I gather, an entity will do it for you. I had an early (and very memorable) experience of being suddenly kicked back into my body by some sort of astral bouncer.  It's like flying Southwest Air:  Sometimes you land like a feather, sometimes you go skittering down the runway and spill your peanuts.

We'll save the topic of intentions for a later post, but setting an intention can be a good alternative to deciding on a strict time table.  Think about what you want to accomplish from the session ("I'm going to visit the lunar sphere of Yesod."  Or,  "I'm going to have a vision of where I left my car keys."), and you'll likely find yourself drifting back to reality once you've accomplished your intention.

In conclusion:  Sit as long as you comfortably can--five or ten minutes is probably good for a raw beginner.  Don't burn out and don't hurt yourself.  You can work your way up from there, but don't assume that long sessions are the goal.  Timers are helpful...or maybe not.  Sometimes it's over when it's over.  About an hour is probably enough for anyone, unless you live in an ashram or hermit cave.  Have fun!

Artwork:  Edmund Dulac, "Father Time" (1906)

What's the matter with tap water? A no-nonsense approach to water-scrying

 Okay, so I'm generally pretty tolerant of other people's magical rules and guidelines.  After all, magic and divination are very subjective arts, and have long been taught through word of mouth and tradition.  This means that there's a wealth of folklore associated with them.  Unfortunately, this also means that there are some truisms that are speculative, dogmatic, or just plain stupid--and they will never die.  Instead, they get propagated in book after book or repeated online as gospel.  My current favorite:  Never, ever use tap water for water-scrying.

Obviously, water that comes out of the faucet at the turn of the handle is just too mundane and accessible to fill your scrying bowl.  Proper water must be gathered from a lake or stream, under a full moon, preferably from a sacred site after asking the blessings of the local fairies.  (Rainwater is reputedly acceptable, as well--which is great news unless you happen to be in Texas in the summer.  Ahem.)  Never have I heard or read a satisfactory explanation for "gathered" water is necessary to produce visions.  But I have a couple of theories that sound plausible:  Maybe pond scum contains little-known psychoactives that are good for scrying.  Or maybe the undines get filtered out at the water-treatment plant.  Maybe making your whole room smell like a lake is essential for getting in touch with the element of Water.  I wonder, if I just get a bowl and fill it with my tears of frustration, would that be okay for scrying?

Now, I'm making fun, and perhaps being a little bit harsh.  If doing a preparation ritual is valuable to you, if it seems essential to your scrying practice, then do it.  However, if you're like me and (I suspect) most people, it's hard enough to find half an hour to dim the lights and close the door.  Never mind finding the time harvest the right water.  Also, these days most pagans/occultists are urban folks.  Unless you happen to have a nice babbling brook within walking distance, gathering water means driving somewhere.  That uses our finite fuel resources and pollutes the air and water, and how do you think the undines feel about that?

And before we start talking about the transformative power of ritual, lets not forget that too often, all these rules and rituals become an excuse for avoiding practice:  "Ooh, I want to learn to scry, but first I need to save up for that pewter cauldron and moonstone necklace, then I need to wait till the next full moon so I can go harvest some moonwater."  No you fuckin' don't.  Just grab that glass that came with the Jim Beam, turn on the tap, and go to town.  It's better than nothing, and the pewter cauldron will still be there when you're ready for it.

Also--I'm not jaded about tap water.  Tap water is pretty damn cool.  There are billions of people in this world who would love to not have to walk to some creek to get water.  So try some gratitude, water snobs. Also, if you just take a minute to think about the miracle of the water cycle, you realize pretty quickly that water is water.  That "ordinary" stuff coming out of your faucet has been in clouds and waves and dinosaur veins and toilet bowls.  All water is magical, whether it comes out of the tap or the well of fuckin' Avalon.

Now, I like pretty tools as much as the next person  But there's a difference between appreciating the beauty of tools, and fetishizing them.  To externalize the process of magic too much is disempowering to the practitioner.  When you experience visions they are (depending on who you ask) in your head, in the ether, reflecting off your aura--but they're not literally in a bowl of water, tap or otherwise.  The only reason that tap water won't work for scrying is if you believe that it won't work for scrying.  And you shouldn't believe that, because it's just dumb.

To know, to will, to dare, to keep silent: The Four Powers and the seer's art

To know, to will, to dare, to keep silent:  These powers are related to the four classical elements and are the cornerstones of Hermetic magic.  (They're also used by some Wiccans.)  These guiding principles are known by various names: Four Powers of the Sphinx, Four Powers of the Magi, Motto of the Sphinx, the Four Pillars, the Powers of the Elements, the Witch's Pyramid, the Magic Pyramid, etc.  Taken together, they form a "simple but not easy" program of personal improvement and spiritual development.  Today, we'll consider the Four Powers and how they relate specifically to the practice of divination and seership.

To know (sciere).  This is a good one to start with, since you could argue that "to know" is the entire point of becoming a seer.  When we sit down to scry or ask for a prophetic dream, we're hoping to get a peek into worlds beyond our everyday reality.  (Or, more prosaically, to find out what's happening in the next room or next week.)  All of the seer's work is done in the service of knowledge.

So, how do we cultivate this power?  Well, the most obvious way is through learning.  We learn through words and images, from teachers who have gone before us.  While human beings have made great technological and social strides in a few thousand years, our basic mental and spiritual capacities don't appear to evolve so quickly--I'm sure there's nobody alive today who's smarter than Plato or more spiritually aware than the author of the Psalms.  And what has worked for the ancients will most likely work today.  So, part of "to know" is to recognize wisdom where its given and try not to reinvent the wheel.  What's the saying artists have--learn the rules before you break 'em?  For the seer this means studying and practicing the spiritual technologies that are available--the time-honored practices of meditation and prayer, for instance.  Then adapt them if necessary.

We also gain knowledge through our own experiences.  Moments of teaching occur throughout the day, and inspiration flashes through the synapses in milliseconds.  But most of the time we're just too busy and distracted to give our full focus to these transmissions  Seership is a way to set the process to slow motion.  We put ourselves in a relaxed state and tell the universe, "Say it one more time.  I'm listening."  So ask yourself a few questions:  Are you honoring the process of learning with your time and attention?  Are you keeping good enough records, so that the insights you catch hold of won't easily be forgotten?  Are you growing in self-awareness as you experience different visions and states?

Which brings us to what is certainly the hardest part of knowing: To know yourself.  The questions associated with self-knowledge are even more difficult:  Why do you want to be a seer?  What will you do with knowledge once its acquired?  They obviously don't have easy answers, but even if you can't answer them completely, it's helpful to keep them foremost in your mind.  The power of knowledge is associated with the classical element of Air.  When perfected, it gives you the ultimate perspective: a birds-eye view of yourself, your surroundings, and your place in the world.  This alone sounds like it could be the work of a lifetime.  But wait, there's more...

To will (velle).

A seer must be strong-willed.  As a member of homo sapiens, you have an extremely powerful and marvelous piece of frontal lobe, that nonetheless has a tendency to overestimate its own importance.  The conscious mind is so active that it would prefer to dominate every waking minute, leaving very little space for intuitive functioning.  It takes a strongly developed will to demand that your normal way of seeing get the hell outta the way, and let your less-developed sixth sense have a turn at the window.

From this, the power of Fire, we derive the inspiration to do some really hard work--the proverbial fire under your ass, if you will.  There is no "easy" method of divination--if there were, then everybody would be doing it.  No matter how talented you are, you still have to hone the skills of single-pointed concentration and visualization.  You have to overcome the tendency of the mind to wander to mundane things, and of all your conscious and unconscious desires to distract and deceive you.  You have to have the will to do your practice even when you don't really feel like it or when other obligations are clamoring for your time.

To dare (audere).

This power is associated with the element of Water, which has a long, long history of being emblematic of the psychic arts.  And with good reason:  Elemental Water is the source of creativity, intuition, and connection. Even in the mundane world, we talk about "streams" of consciousness and "going with the flow"--sometimes an inspiration "springs" forth or we "pool" our ideas with others.  Many traditional scrying devices (bowls, ponds, and wells) are tied to Water.  (Even crystals were thought by the Greeks to be made of water, permanently frozen.)  And the seer's practice of letting go--letting words and images float on by without attempting to direct them--is a watery skill.

But lest I make it sound like seership means drifting off into a gentle pool of soul-melting bliss, let's not forget that "daring" implies courage, not just happy abandon.  Are you really ready to confront all the beasties that lurk in the dark reaches of your unconscious?  Are you ready to start ringing the doorbells of the other denizens of the universe, which might just wanna pinch your l'il rosy cheeks...or not?  Taking up this calling means giving up your fixations on safety, predictability, and objectivity.  No one can promise you that you won't go crazy.   Nobody can prove to you that you're not actually wasting your time with all this stuff.  "To dare" means having the faith and the audacity to do a cannonball into the deep well of the mysterious.  Wooooooo!

To keep silent (tacere).

Ah, yes, the ancient art of shutting your piehole.  (Often said to be the most overlooked of the four.)  Just as some strains of Hermeticism hold that Earth isn't a real element, some people evidently feel that silence isn't a real magical skill, to their great detriment.  I'm sure you've seen the oversharer in action at your local psychic circle / coven / metaphysical group.  There's almost invariably someone who's so eager to share their successes or brag about their newfound talents that they just end up alienating everyone and looking like a fool.  Sometimes there's two or more of these folks and they spend the whole time one-upping each other (which at least spares other people the misery of conversing with them).  Meanwhile, on the periphery you find the more mature practitioners, who don't talk about their abilities unless someone asks--and sometimes not even then.

But the purpose of magical silence isn't just to look inscrutable and cool--although that's definitely a fringe benefit.  Resisting the temptation to chatter really can benefit your practice.  In the ancient world, boasting about personal success was thought to draw the malediction of the evil eye or jealous spirits.  Modern practitioners are more likely to say that blabbing too much will scatter the energy of your working or diminish your enthusiasm.  At the very least, you can be sure that touting your skills will attract the wrong kind of attention, at least as far as your own psychic development is concerned.  Some people will be outright dismissive, and this kind of skepticism isn't helpful in the early stages of learning the craft.  On the other hand, some people will be way too into what you're doing; their neediness will feed your vanity and distract you from the work at hand.  Allow a new practice to be nurtured in darkness, the way a seed is able to grow to viability in the darkness of the soil.

The power of Earth encompasses not only literal silence, but inner stillness and patience.  Patience is really a form of courage--the courage to wait and see, to not be anxious for results, but to trust that our efforts will bear fruit.  When we possess the strength of Earth, we're okay with allowing our abilities to develop slowly, in pace with our (hopefully) growing maturity and wisdom.   Earth is also about integration--bringing everything together in a harmonious whole, symbolized by the pantacle.  I like to think that Earth is represented last among the four powers, because part of learning the power of Earth is integrating it with everything the other elements have taught you.  For example, you use your discernment to know when and where to break a silence--which brings us back to the first power, "to know".

(In case you're wondering why I decided to break my own silence with this blog--well, I'm thinking it through as I go along.  I certainly hope it's been helpful to you.)

Love and blessings,

M

The internal monologue: Friend or foe?

All right, so...I want to talk a little about the internal monologue, as it relates to scrying.  The internal monologue is the voice of your conscious mind as it describes its environment, makes judgements, has insights and ideas, gives you a play-by-play of your physical and emotional condition.  Everybody has one of these mental commentary tracks.  A sample:  "It sure feels good to be sitting in this nice comfortable chair.  It's kind of hot upstairs, though.  Maybe I should get up and go downstairs.  Nah.  I hope we don't have another warm winter.  I really don't want to go to work tomorrow.  My boss is such a stupid bitch.  No, that's not a right thing to say--I don't even know her that well.  She should be nicer, though.  I wonder what's in the fridge."

When you begin meditation practice, one of the first things you learn is how to silence this internal voice, or at least diminish its impact on your concentration.  As I beginner, I tried to squash it by yelling, "SSShhhhsshhh! Quiet, you!" at my mind every time I had a stray thought.  (Hint: That doesn't work.)  Some more effective methods include repeating a mantra, focusing on your breath, hearing your thoughts fading into silence or visualizing them blowing away.  Eventually, with a little practice, you can experience a rare moment of stillness--a quiet interval where your brain's not talking to you and your body's not asking for anything.  Then your internal monologue starts in with the "Wow!  I did it! This is so new and exciting!" thoughts, and you're back to square one.

But scrying is not meditation--not exactly.  Scrying sessions often begin and end with short periods of meditation, but the middle interval is a separate state of consciousness.  I'd say it's like goats and cows: They have more similarities than difference, but they are different animals.  In meditation, one of the goals is to achieve freedom from stimuli, mental or otherwise.  Total stillness and blankness.  (Zen student: "Master, in meditation today I had a vision of the Heavenly Buddha seated on a golden lotus."  Zen master:  "Just focus on your breathing and it will go away.")  When you scry, however, you actually want those stray bits and pieces to intrude upon your consciousness--that's sort of the whole point.  They are the packets that contain psychic information, wisdom from the higher realms, gems from the unconscious, pretty pictures, or whatever it is your after.   I don't know if this is an East vs. West thing.  I also don't think the two modes are incompatible or truly divergent.  Clearly, some of skills and techniques you learn from a practice of meditation are very useful for getting yourself into the mental state necessary for scrying.  And the reverse is probably true as well.

So, normally when you scry, the internal monologue is still active.  It's pretty much always active, unless you use one of the techniques for turning it off.  Your conscious mind may be feeding you random thoughts to distract you, telling you encouraging or discouraging things about your practice, or describing or commenting on the things you see.  This last function is the most useful.  (Although you have to be careful about over-analyzing your visions--as some remote-viewing experiments have shown, often the vision is correct, but the interpretation is wrong.)  Some sources I've read even recommend using narrative voice to go along with the images in the speculum.  Using this method, you actually talk yourself through the session out loud.  "I see dark clouds.  They're lit from behind.  Sunlight?  Now they're moving, forming a funnel shape...oh, it's a tree.  There's someone sitting under the tree..." and so on.  This technique works similar to a mantra.  Describing the pictures in words keeps your verbal center busy, blocking out extraneous thoughts.  It's also a good way for a beginner to see what it feels like to have a continuous stream of visions, and to acknowledge that they really are seeing something--even if it's just various colors and shapes.  Some scryers also report that hearing their own voice has a self-hypnotic effect.  You start out just describing what you see, and as you proceed, the voice will sound stranger and farther away, and before you know it you're in a nice little dissociative state.

There are other good reasons not to banish your internal monologue while scrying.  Dictating your impressions out loud has one obvious benefit:  You can record them for later.  We've already covered how important note-taking is, and recording your sessions is a way to get detailed notes without the break in concentration of reaching for a pen and paper.  And of course, if you're scrying for someone else, or in a group session, you have to be able to be able to talk and see at the same time.  You have to use words to share, because they aren't seeing what you're seeing (probably).  Finally, there's the issue that scrying isn't just a visual phenomena--it can also trigger clairaudience in certain people.  Psychic impressions of words, phrases, even whole conversations can enter the mind spontaneously--and these don't sound all that different from ordinary verbal thoughts.  Of course you have to learn to tell them apart, but if you reflexively shush every word that pops into your head, you might miss out on some useful information.

Speaking from experience, I will say that the internal monologue does act as a tether to the conscious mind, keeping you from reaching down into the deepest trance states.  But that's not necessarily a bad thing.  The deepest trance states don't always yield the most content.  (Just like how the deepest sleep is often dreamless.)  Those deep, deep states are enjoyable, and can be profound in their own way.  But it's harder to bring nuggets back from them.  Keeping one part of your mind tied to the realm of words helps with retention--as you mentally verbalize your visions, you're actually storing them for later.  Think "canoe" to yourself, and you're more likely to remember that you scried a canoe. Again, it's similar to dream retention.  What practice do they always advise to help remember your dreams?  Keeping a dream journal, naturally!  Dreams evaporate quickly upon waking, but if you can scribble down just a few key words, you'll be able to recall the dream vividly for days afterward.  Same deal with scrying.

In conclusion, while the internal monologue is usually cast as the baddie in meditative and/or spiritual practice, it does have some useful functions for scrying.  The key is to be able to minimize irrelevant chatter, while staying open to clairaudient impressions and using your verbal faculties to retain and communicate what you see.  (Not easy, admittedly.  But nobody said it would be.)  Also, while scrying is not the same critter as meditation, doing a traditional meditation practice won't hurt, and will certainly help keep the unwanted noise to a minimum.

Good luck!

-M

Nineteen things that might help you scry, and one thing that definitely will

"Crystal-gazing shows how a substratum of fact may be so overlaid with mystic mummeries, incantations, fumigations, pentacles: and so overwhelmed in superstitious interpretations, introducing fairies and spirits, that the facts run the risk of being swept away in the litter and dust of nonsense." - Andrew Lang, Cock Lane and Common-Sense (1894)

Having read even a handful of books or articles on divination, I'm sure you'll immediately notice two things--authors tend to have strong opinions about what works, and their advice can be quite divergent and even contradictory.  For example, some people believe that it's difficult (or unlucky!) to read tarot cards for yourself, and other people maintain just the opposite point of view.  And since we're talking about the metaphysical here, there's no way to prove one right and the other wrong.  Here's a compilation of some of the "must do's" that I've seen or read over time:

• Leave your crystal, mirror or bowl out under the full moon to absorb its influence.
• Burn an incense that's suitable for your work. (Sandalwood, mace, and bay are some that are traditional for divination.)
• Invoke a god or spirit who can help you see what you desire.
• Inscribe your tool with prayers, words of power, sigils, or other formulas to enhance their efficacy.
• Gather scrying water from a sacred spring or other outdoor source.
• Place a light source behind you, so that it's indirectly reflected in the surface in front of you.
• Place a dark cloth or box around the speculum, so that no light is reflected in.
• Scry on a Monday.
• Scry during the full moon waxing moon, appropriate planetary hour, or astrologically favorable time.
• Scry at night, when your mind is closer to a hypnogogic state.
• Scry during the day, when you're less likely to fall asleep.
• Store your speculum wrapped your speculum in silk, to insulate it from outside influences.
• Rub mugwort on your speculum, smoke it, or drink it as a tea.  (Obviously, do your research before you ingest any herb.)
• Use chanting, drumming or singing to help you acheive trance.
• Make your own scrying mirror, so it will be uniquely imprinted with your essence and intention.
• Sleep with your tool under your pillow.
• Anoint your tool with a drop of your own blood to enhance the bond.
• Be a woman.  (Yes, it's a long-standing belief that women are more naturally seers, even though most of the famous ones throughout history have been men.)
• Recite a spell or rhyme before you sit down to scry.

And the one thing that will definitely help?

• Practice. (Duh.)

So far, I've avoided harping on the importance of regular, persistent practice in developing the ability to scry.  It's boring and obvious, and restating it over and over doesn't make it any easier to stick to.  But here it is, for the record:  The way to learn and grow in an occult discipline (or any discipline, really) is to do it--do it until you break through your resistances, do it until you find the methods that work for you, do it until your beginner's luck gives way to reliable proficiency.

As for the other ideas?  Some of them may work for you--the only way to know is to try them and see.  Just don't try them all at once.  Pick one or two at a time and keep a record of the results--that way you know what practices correlate with good results.  You can't really be scientific, but you can at least be systematic.

Ripples in a pond: Lecanomancy

Lecanomancy (from Greek lecane, "dish" or "pan") is the practice of divination by dropping objects into water.  The diviner observes the sound or shape of the water to gather omens about the future or distant present.  Stones or precious gems may be dropped in the water, and their ripples noted.  Or, the diviner may pour oil or dark colored liquid into clear water, and interpret the shapes formed as it pours.  Lecanomancy is closely related to water-scrying, and at times the two methods may overlap.  Unlike, say, tea-leaf reading, I haven't been able to find a source explaining what different types of ripples traditionally mean.  Which suggests that lecanomancy, like scrying, is mainly dependent on the seer's intuition and judgement, rather than on a prescribed set of rules.

Lecanomancy was recorded first in ancient Greece, where natural springs were considered to be sacred to the gods and good for scrying.  The popular practice of throwing coins into "wishing wells" may be descended from a European custom in which a maiden would drop a piece of gold into a well in order to catch a glimpse of her future husband.  Here's an example of a modern lecanomantic ritual, from the book Healing Crystals by Cassandra Eason:

For personal divination, ask a question and drop five moonstones into a crystal bowl of water lit by the moon or by silver candles. The ripples as each falls into the water will suggest an image in your mind’s eye and the five images will answer your question.

On her website, Eason also recommends scattering herbs across the surface of the scrying vessel, then reading the clusters of herbs, or the space in between.  Another tradition is to drop a shiny coin or pebble into the basin, then gaze at the submerged object instead of the water's surface.  Similarly, I've heard of painting a spot on the bottom of the vessel and fixing the eyes on the wavering point.  And recently I stumbled across this so-called Tibetan scrying bowl:  It has handles attached to the sides, which allow the scryer to gently agitate the surface of the water by gripping them with the hands.

Having read and experimented with water-scrying fairly widely, I've come to the conclusion that it is often useful to disrupt the surface of still water with one of the methods discussed.  A smooth plane of water can be too reflective--or just too blank.  Ripples, submerged objects, etc., can act as points of entry for the scryer to same way that rainbows, fractures, and inclusions in crystal are sometimes helpful.  Water has an advantage, though, in that you can disrupt it as much or as little as you need to in order to create the perfect canvas for your visions to emerge.

Scrying with obsidian

Obsidian is a natural volcanic glass.  It is an ancient scrying tool with unique properties and sacred associations that make it a popular choice even today.   The stone, found primarily in North America, is black with a naturally glossy texture.  Large deposits of obsidian were formed when silica-rich lava or magma cooled rapidly, creating an igneous rock.  Obsidian often gets lumped into the crystal category by New Agers, but the stone is technically not crystalline--it's vitreous (or amorphous).  The metaphysical properties attributed to obsidian include grounding, blocking negative energy, spiritual protection, and enhancing psychic vision.  (Isn't every single gemstone credited with clearing negativity and enhancing psychic vision?  Just once, I'd like to walk into a crystal store and have someone say, "Here, check out the energy of this crappite--it shuts down all your chakras at once and gives you warts, besides!") 

Anyway, the largest veins of obsidian are found in North America, where for thousands of years it was used to make tools and ceremonial items.  Obsidian is fairly easy to shape with stone tools, and can be honed to an extremely sharp edge.  The knowledge of metallurgy, so important in the course of European civilization, did not develop in pre-Colombian Mesoamerica, perhaps because of the wide availability of obsidian for knives, axes, and awls.  To the Aztecs, obsidian was a divine stone, thought to be a form of blood originating from deep in the earth.  It was sacred to the god Tezcatlipoca ("Smoking Mirror"), who presided over magic, divination, the night sky, and ancestral memory.  Obsidian also has mythic significance in the Navajo and Maya cultures.  (For more obsidian facts and history, go here.)

Obsidian in its usual form is solid black and polished to a high shine.  But there are variations.  "Gold sheen" or "silver sheen" obsidian has phantom streaks of light-catching inclusions, which are caused by tiny gas bubbles trapped during the cooling process.  "Rainbow" obsidian has a multicolor effect caused in a similar way by trapped water.  There's also "snowflake" obsidian (or "Apache tears") that is sprinkled with grey, ash-like flecks.  (I can't imagine that this kind would be very good for scrying.)  Most obsidian goods come from Mexico.  You can buy obsidian in the usual assortment of shapes, including spheres, cabochons, skulls, pyramids and palmstones, and also in natural chunks which reflect the flow of the lava that formed it.

Among the most prized of scrying tools are black obsidian mirrors.  These are usually unframed round or ovoid slabs about a centimeter thick.  Broad pieces of obsidian that can be crafted into mirrors are rare, and it takes a lot of skill to cut the brittle stone this way.  That translates into serious coin.  I've seen 6-inch obsidian mirrors selling for $300 or more online, while most occult shops offer 12-inch beveled black glass mirrors for between $60 and $100.  If it's important to you to have the natural volcanic glass, you'll almost certainly have to content yourself with a smaller surface.

Now, from reading various internet forums (why, oh why?) I've learned that some people are reluctant to use a black surface for scrying, the same way some people have a fearful reaction to black candles, robes, and other ritual tools.  Of course my esteemed readers already know that there isn't anything evil or sinister about the color black and indeed it has a rich symbolic link to sleep, the powers of the North, the generative darkness of the Goddess, etc.  I think the black mirror's PR problem comes not only from negative associations with the color, but its use in ceremonial magic as a means of evoking spirits, such as in the Solomonic revival led by Carroll "Poke" Runyon.  But just because dark mirrors are useful for evocation work, doesn't mean you can't safely use them for general divinatory purposes, also.  If you're drawn to obsidian, you should use it.  If you're so superstitious and timid that just looking at a black surface gives you the creeps, you should probably just take up needlepoint--it's safer.

 While I'm dishing out the unsolicited advice, I'd also like to say, don't worry if you can't see anything in obsidian, because it really is different from other media.  Just try something else.  (Conversely, you might want to try obsidian if other scrying tools don't do it for you.)  For years, I thought that I couldn't scry a dark surface.  Despite some fleeting success with hematite and blank computer screens, I got much better results with water and later, quartz.  I found I relied on the subtle movements of light inside my specula, and obisidian just looked flat to me.  I also disliked the tendency of black surfaces to suddenly reflect my face back to me when I was trying to get a fix on a vision.  (That's right--my face is just too, too distracting.)

Recently, though, I've branched out and started playing with a small obsidian sphere that I picked up for around $10.  I was at a new (to me) crystal store that had a large display of obsidian at very reasonable prices.  There was another shopper nearby me, a Mexican man, who was in the process of reverently handling each and every stone one by one, sometimes muttering under his breath and holding the stone closer to his head as if waiting for an answer.  I watched him for a little while, then figured well, either he's fuckin' nuts or he knows what he's doing.  What the heck, maybe I'll go find me an obsidian, too.

So I go over to the display (there was plenty of room, and anyway, he didn't notice me) and start picking up rocks.  I didn't talk to them, though.  Eventually there was one I felt particularly drawn to, a ball about an inch and a half in diameter.  I held it up to the light.  And...I saw something!  Some clouds, some mountains.  I was so excited--I'd never seen anything (besides my nose) in an obsidian sphere before.  There was motion and light, a silvery streak with just the slightest warm tinge.  (I couldn't tell if it was silver or gold, so I just called it "sold.")  I took it home and began to work with it right away.  Turns out this was a "sheen" obsidian, which I had never heard of before.  When I turn it back an forth, it has a hypnotic effect that's similar to what I get from the light play in quartz.  I still find that clear depth works best for me, but I enjoy the challenge of trying something different.  I also get out obsidian during the dark moon, when my (very lunar) primary crystal seems to be hibernating.

Well, that's about all I know about scrying with obsidian.  I recommend trying this beautiful stone, especially if you have an affinity for volcanoes, Aztec and Mesoamerican culture, the color black, or the elements of Earth and Fire.  If you have any ideas or experiences that relate to the magical use of obsidian, please share them in the comments section--I'd love to learn more.

Related links on my blog:

Read about some basic scrying techniques.
Don't like black? Shop for a crystal instead.
See pictures of the most notorious obsidian mirror ever.

In, at, or through? Where to look when scrying

From watching movies and television, it's easy to get the idea that crystal balls and whatnot work pretty much like the TV itself.  You just tune it to the right channel, and then watch the pictures progress across the screen--clear, continuous, and illuminated by an LCD haze.  While this may describe some people's experience of scrying, it's certainly not the most common experience.  And this expectation can be a real stumbling block, especially for beginners who feel like they're doing it wrong because they're not getting 50 channels in HD video.

It's pretty obvious, but it's probably worth mentioning anyway--when you see something "in" your scrying medium, the picture is actually in your mind.  If you were to photograph the image, it wouldn't show up.  If someone was looking over your shoulder, they wouldn't see the same vision.  (Unless you were telepathically linked, or under the influence of the same entity...but that's another discussion.)  Basically, the vision is an induced hallucination that you are choosing to locate in or around the speculum for your convenience.

I recently heard author Geoffrey James express this concept very aptly while a guest on the podcast Thelema Now!  The show's host, Frater Puck, asked James for advice for listeners who had trouble scrying, and he gave this response:

Well, the main thing about scrying is that you have to plug the crystal ball into a USB port, or it doesn't work.  (Laughter.)  The problem that is involved there, when people say that they can't scry, or they say that it doesn't work for them is that they're expecting it to look like a television show.  They're expecting it to look like the movie where someone looks into a crystal stone, and then inside you see, like, teeny people doing things.  That's all convention, in terms of being able to show something like that.  And by the way, that's not new.  At one point, during Dee's work, they decided to use one of his sons, Arthur Dee, as a scryer--he was maybe eight or nine at the time.  And he looked into the stone and all he described some things: "Oh, it looks like there's these little round things coming at me," and eventually Dee looked at it, and there was just some little bubbles in the crystal that he was seeing.  So he was making the same mistake.  But the truth is that the visions occur in your mind, in your imagination--they don't occur as a physical thing that you see inside of the stone.  They actually might, if you were a schizophrenic. You might actually see things, because schizophrenic people literally see things. It's probably an occasion for worry if you actually saw little creatures inside the stone, you know, it's probably time to go get some meds because you're probably not too healthy if that's what's going on.  You have to think of it as more akin to a very focused sort of meditation rather than something that's going to be like the magic out of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.  That's just not how it is.  It'd be cool if it were, but it just doesn't work that way.  

On the other hand, some people are gonna say, "Well, it's only in your head."  What do you mean, only?  (Laughter.)  Hey what do you mean by that?  "Only"?  Everything's only in your head. Everythng that you perceive about the world, everything--it's all coming through your eyes and ears and through your brain.   So, "only"?  That's all you've got anyway! 

(Geoffrey James on Thelema Now! September 15, 2009.)

 Instructional books and articles offer many tips on how to approach the scrying mirror, crystal, or bowl.  They attempt to explain the technique to eyes used to watching screens:  "Look into it, not at it," or "gaze through it, like a window," or (my personal favorite), "look at it without seeing it."  All those diverse prepositions serve to highlight two essential facts about seership: It's hard to describe with words, and it's likely a little different for everyone.

Here's a list of some of the phenomena the scryer may experience:

• Clouds, mists, or lights which have no definite form, but may evoke thoughts and emotions.
• Flat, screen-like images of varying clarity projected onto the surface of the speculum.
• Events and objects in miniature, enclosed within the boundaries of the medium. (Like a snow globe.)
• Images that appear at a slight distance, as through a window.
• Images inside the speculum, but with portions of the vision extending out towards the seer in three dimensions.
• Visions which appear outside the speculum and seem to be in the room with the seer.
• Images seen in the mind's eye, while the open eyes are fixed on a point.
• Images seen behind closed eyes. 
• Reflections of actual objects on the surface of the speculum, which shift to form other sights.
• Non-visual information: sounds, words, emotions, physical sensations.
• Intuitions which occur directly to the seer, without sensory input.
• Visions which transport the scryer's consciousness to another place, not centered on the speculum.

And any combination of the above may occur in a single session!

What this means is that there are countless valid ways to receive information while scrying.  One is not necessarily better than another, and you can focus your eyes anywhere you damn well please, as long as the method allows you to be comfortable and undistracted.  It doesn't matter if your tools don't work like Jafar's--they will work if you are patient enough to find a good technique and flexible enough to accept the different modes of vision that may come to you.

Good luck!

M

Divination methods: Intuitive vs. inductive

Open almost any occult reference work, and you're likely to find a list of divination methods ranging from the familiar to the chuckle-worthy:

acultomancy	divination using needles
aeromancy	divination by means of the weather
ailuromancy	divination by watching cats’ movements
alectormancy	divination by sacrificing a rooster
alectryomancy	divination by watching a rooster gather corn kernels
aleuromancy	divination using flour or meal
alomancy	divination using salt
alphitomancy	divination using loaves of barley
alveromancy	divination using sounds
ambulomancy	divination by taking a walk
amniomancy	divination by examining afterbirth

And so on. The word "divination" connotes communication with the divine, but it's rarely as simple as a two-way communication between the seeker and the Big Guy. Rather, the practice of divination infers that the divine communicates with us through obscure and densely coded signs--hence the proliferation of methods around the world, based on the tools that are available and traditional.

 I was interested to learn recently that anthropologists who study divination in past and present cultures divide the mantic arts into two broad categrories.  Intuitive divination involves the direct reception of information (from spirits, visions, or dreams).  Inductive divination is the process of observing signs (from objects, generally) and extrapolating meaning from them.  Divination methods may be placed on a sliding scale between these two points.  Shamanic trance work, for instance is strongly intuitive, and only incidentally inductive.  Observing the flight of birds or the arrangement of entrails, is mostly inductive with a minimal intuitive component.  The former method is thought to require some special skill or natural ability, while the latter can be done by anyone, once they learn the system and standard meanings.

This dichotomy describes two fundamentally different (though not mutually exclusive) assumptions about how divination works.  One centers on the ability of the human mind or spirit to go out into the ether and find the information it seeks; the other focuses on the tendency organize itself in an orderly fashion, in which reflections of events are noted by the observant diviner, and missed by everyone else.

Now, some may argue that we're describing two sides of the same coin, if we say the intuitive approach relies on the power of the individual to receive knowledge, and that the inductive approach relies on the universe (or gods) to communicate knowledge.  In any case, it's clear that the divination practices cannot neatly be divided into two discrete categories, which is why some posit a third category, which is really an intermediary to the two and which is called interpretive divination.

Some of the most popular forms of divination fall into this interpretive category.  A tarot reader, for instance, generally uses a combination of inductive and intuitive abilities to produce a reading.  He will shuffle the cards until he feels that it's time to stop (intuition).  He will then lay the cards out in a prearranged pattern, and accept the dealt cards as a message relevant to the matter at hand (induction).  A good reader will also be able to choose the most accurate among the many possible meanings for each card (intuition again) and relate the basic card meanings to the question in an expansive way (more induction).

Now for a little discussion on the relative strengths and weaknesses of each approach.

I've come to believe that inductive divination practices can be useful problem-solving tools even if the diviner's psychic senses are weak or non-existent.  This is because induction is a form of creative thinking that can trigger new and unexpected ideas.  I'll show you what I mean.  Let's suppose, for the sake, of argument, that you live in a universe where psychic abilities do not exist.  There are no supernatural or synchronistic forces at work, and complete randomness is the law.  Nevertheless, you're having a relationship problem, and you decide to do a divination by drawing a rune from a sack. The rune you draw is Berkana, "Birth."  It's totally random, remember, but you believe that it has significance--that it carries some encoded message about your relationship--so you turn it this way and that in your mind, you look up some different definitions and try to apply them.  Does it herald a new beginning for the relationship or does it mean someone's being a big baby?  Maybe it points to something that you need to bring forth or develop, but what could that be?  And so on.  And at the end of this exercise, you know more about the relationship than you did before--not because the divination gave you real information (it didn't), but because it coaxed you into focusing on your issue and thinking about it in a creative manner.  I've noticed this phenomenon with beginning tarot readers.  Often they haven't developed their intuitive faculties and the cards they draw seem (to me) to be pretty much a mishmash of random cards.  But in the process of scanning the scattered cards for meaning, believe that they contain profound and personal messages from the universe--surprise! They find some.  (I know this sounds cynical, but I mean it in the least cynical way possible.  It is truly marvelous what kind of practical information beginners can come up with when they give themselves permission to think magically.)

 Of course, there are times when the inductive approach falls apart--like when you need specific information that isn't easily expressed by the more mechanical systems of divination.  Another example:  Let's say you left your wallet out on the kitchen table, and while you were at work your adorable basset hound mistook it for a chew toy and dragged it off somewhere.  Well, you can throw the I-Ching until your brain is swimming in broken and unbroken lines, and still not get any usable information about the location of your wallet.  Is the answer there within all the noise?  Maybe--but that's a philosophical question.  It doesn't matter to you if you can't parse the signal, and there is no trigram for "under the chaise lounge."  It would be much easier if you could just lie down for a nap and have a psychic dream in which you see Buttercup depositing the wallet in its hiding place.  You need an intuitive method.

Different methods can also provide us with different information about the same situation.  For the sake of the example, we'll say the "target", the thing the is reading about, is the movie When Harry Met Sally.  We ask a talented scryer, and we might get something like this:

I see a woman...she's blonde, pretty.  She's smiling, but I feel that she's deeply lonely.  Smell of Aquanet hairspray.  There's a crowd of people walking, like an airport or bus terminal.  A yellow car...older.  Tables in a restaurant--why is everyone laughing?

In other words, we have images, impressions--but not the plot of the movie.  Now let's ask a talented tarot reader:

The reading concern a young man and a young woman--both have very busy lives.  They're friends, but there's a lot of sexual tension.  There's the potential for travel in the future?  The Wheel of Fortune here indicates the forces of karma and destiny, the Two of Cups, marriage.  It is very likely that after experiencing various ups and downs, these two will wind up together.

One more point of comparison.  There's a long tradition of using inductive methods for here-and-now information, and intuitive methods for spiritual development and exploration--and I think there's something to that.  Again, I'm not trying to draw a false dichotomy here--you can talk to your Holy Guardian Angel with casino dice and you can scry for lost socks if you want to.  But we bliss junkies and space cadets know that visionary practices can impress upon you the full magnificence, beauty, and terror of your situation in a way that regular ole fortune-telling does not.  For me, the most profound tarot reading is about as immersive as getting absorbed in a good book, while intuitive experiences can seem, for the moment, more real than anything else.

So, let's bring all this divination theory back around, shall we?  How does it help the practitioner?  If you're clairvoyant at will, then you can probably just dispense with this divination stuff altogether. But for the rest of us, learning to use our intuitive and inductive talents in tandem (with a good measure of savvy interpretation) is offers the surest chance at success.  You should know how to choose the method best suited to your question and to your particular talents--which, of course, will vary from day to day.  So, the next time you have a vision that you don't understand, why not throw a couple of bones to try and clarify it?  Or when you notice the Empress staring seductively from the center of your Celtic Cross, how about taking a journey to her realm to see what she has to tell you?

Hope your divinations are both transcendent and enlightening.  And I hope you find those socks,

M

More words for methods of divination.

Candle-gazing to enhance scrying: an intermediate technique

Scrying and candles go together like peanut butter and jelly.  Candles provide the low, incandescent light that most scryers prefer.  The slow, flickering beam of the flame casts animated shadows on the reflective surface of a mirror or crystal.  The heat it generates soothes and relaxes the body.  And aesthetically speaking, there is simply nothing better than a candle or lamp flame for evoking a spiritual, mystical atmosphere in a room where magical work is taking place.

But did you know that you can deliberately use your trusty altar candles as a trance induction device?  This technique has been known in the East for centuries, as part of the discipline known as tratakam, or yoga of the fixed gaze.  It is defined as sustained, single-pointed focus on an internal or external point.  The practice helps to improve concentration, access altered states, and achieve inner sight.  Candle-gazing in particular is thought to stimulate the pineal gland, the light-sensitive "third eye" which is linked with clairvoyance.

I first discovered this technique would work for scrying in the somewhat unlikely setting of a strip-mall yoga center.  The class was what I call the "hatha-plus" variety.  We did mostly asana (physical poses), but now and then the teacher would sneak in a bit of her more esoteric knowledge.  One day, after we had completed our asana sequence, the teacher passed out tea lights and informed us we would be trying a candle-gazing meditation before settling down for our final resting pose.  The students each sat in a seated position, palms resting on knees, with the candle resting on the floor a few inches in front of the feet.  With a straight back and neck, we cast our eyes downward to settle upon the wick of the candle.  The teacher dimmed the lights, then walked around the room and lit each candle.  Immediately a soothing orange glow filled my field of vision.  The teacher began to lead a rhythmic breathing exercise, and invited us to alternately open and close our eyes.  When my eyes were open and gazing at the candle, I felt blissfully absorbed by the flame.  With my eyes closed, I could still see the after-image of the candle and feel its light and heat, but there was also a welcome darkness, pregnant with images and meaning.  I opened my eyes for another breath, then slipped back into the darkness.  The room I was in disappeared and my sense of time dissolved.  I didn't snap out of it until I heard the instructor abandon her usual clouds-and-honey yoga teacher voice for a sterner tone:   "Okay, we're done working with the candles now.  We have ten minutes left in class.  Please move to your mats and prepare for shavasana."  Oops. 

The effects of the trance gradually wore off as I lay there on my mat, but spectacular visions continued to play out on the inside of my eyelids.  Of course, since yogic meditation discourages wandering thoughts, I spent the rest of class trying to banish these "distractions."  It wasn't until later that I realized that this simple candle meditation had allowed to me to reach a faster, deeper, more visual trance state than I had thus far been able to achieve by scrying alone, and that it might be helpful to hijack the technique for my scrying practice.  Incidentally, I no longer have a regular practice of Eastern yoga, mostly because I'm lazy and don't really like to break a sweat, but also because I don't always find it to be compatible with the Western esoteric systems I use.  Nevertheless, I'm grateful for the time I have spent studying yoga, because it's helped me to develop concentration, feel more comfortable in my physical body, and perceive and direct my subtle energy.

Want to try this method?  Here's some instructions.  (Keep in mind that I'm not a yoga teacher, nor is this method strictly yogic--it's just a personal practice that I'm sharing because it gets good results.)

So, you'll need a candle or lantern, a chair (or cushion for the floor), your favorite scrying medium (I generally use a crystal ball 'cause I'm old school like that) and a surface in front of you to rest it on.  Light the candle, and make sure you have something non-flammable to set it down on.  (Because nothing kills a psychic buzz like accidentally burning your house down.) While you can do this in exercise in pitch darkness, I find that the contrast creates too much eyestrain.  So I recommend lighting a few other candles around the room or having another dim light source going at the same time.

Next, sit up straight with your scrying medium directly in front of you.  Place the candle in the center of your line of sight, in front of the speculum.  (You can always move it away to the side when you're ready to scry).  Once you're all situated, do whatever you usually do to prepare for divination: ground and center, set your intention, cast your circle, invoke your guides, whatever.  Now begin taking some yogic breaths.  This is deliberate, deep, and rhythmic breathing. (Plenty of tutorials online if you need a refresher.)  Breathe as long as you need to feel your body relax and your mind to begin to clear.  As you continue to breathe steadily, fix your attention on the candle flame and blink naturally.  (If your ocular muscles start to strain or your eyes begin to water, then you're doing it wrong.  Relax.)  See the flame of the candle, feel its warmth spreading out, observe its tiny movements.  Visualize two beams of yellow light, one from each of your open eyes, traveling out to the candle to form a triangle.  Light from the candle, the apex of the triangle, is traveling back along these invisible paths to your eyes and into your brain.  A third beam appears, going from the candle to your third eye, bisecting the triangle.  When the light reaches the space between your eyes, it spreads out and massages the area with light.  This is a breath-linked practice, so if at any time you get distracted, go back a step and focus on the pattern of your breathing.

The next step is to coordinate the blinking of your eyes to your breath.  The next time you breathe in, intensify your gaze ever so slightly and draw in the light, as if you were hoarding it for later.  As you breathe out, close your eyes.  If you've been gazing at the flame for any length of time at all, you'll notice a "burn in" effect--the shape of the fire will still be visible between your closed eyelids.  Open your eyes as you draw another breath.  Then close them, continuing to gaze at the "phantom" flame.  Continue for a set number of repetitions, or, if you're not a counter, until you feel your consciousness begin to shift.  Now gaze at the candle for two breaths (in and out, then in and out again), and rest your eyes for a count of two.  Do this for a little while, then shift to three breaths.  As the space between open-eye periods gets longer, more complex images may begin to appear in the darkness.  (By the time I get up to three breaths, I'm usually spaced, but you could try a longer count if you like.)  When you feel ready, or when your inner vision begins to awaken, set the candle aside and take up your bowl, mirror, or crystal.  As you gaze at it, allow your faculty of sight to gently transfer to its surface.  If your preferred method is fire scrying or closed-eye scrying, then you're all set to go already, you lucky mofo.

Well, I hope this has been helpful.  If you've tried this candle-gazing technique or something similar, I'd be very interested to hear how it went in the comments.

Blessings,

M

Studying the Ganzfeld effect

No, she's not relaxing in a tanning booth--the woman in this photo is participating in a Ganzfeld telepathy experiment.  If you follow parapsychology news, you probably know that Ganzfeld (German, "whole field") tests have produced some of the strongest experimental evidence for psi over the past 35 years. ("Strong" is a relative term, but hey--we take what we can get.)

There are variations in the procedure, but generally the subject rests in a comfortable position in a semi-dark room.  Eye cups (classically made of halved ping pong balls) are placed over the eyes, and a red light shines, producing a blank, pink-tinted visual field.  Headphones play a constant hum of white noise.  In this state of mild sensory deprivation, the subject relaxes and tries to "receive" one of a randomly selected group of images (the "visual target").  So far, Ganzfeld studies have produced results statistically above chance, and also above other types of "random guess" psi experiments.  (The results are also stronger for individuals who have so called "psi-conducive" personal traits.)  The theory is that psi senses, if they exist, are so faint as to be buried in the barrage of ordinary sensory input--but they can be aided by shutting off the dominant senses of sight and hearing.

People who do scrying and certain forms of meditation will recognize the state that Ganzfeld conditions are designed to replicate--partial sensory deprivation that stimulates and amplifies inner vision.  Before there were ping-pong balls and white noise generators, the psychotropic properties of imageless space were already known to human beings.  Followers of the ancient Pythagorean sect went deep into caves to experience visions, and hallucinations have also been reported by trapped miners and snowbound polar explorers.  The human mind doesn't tolerate blankness for very long, and vision-seekers can exploit this tendency to their advantage.

Perhaps because Ganzfeld conditions are cheap and easy to produce at home, it's a popular experiment, even among people without any particular interest in the paranormal.  The "recreational" use of Ganzfeld technology can allow users to experience a temporary change in consciousness without taking drugs or doing extensive meditation practice.  (Instructables.com even has a step-by step tutorial for making your own Ganzfeld mask.)  For those who want to learn to scry but are having trouble getting into the right frame of mind, trying some of the Ganzfeld techniques may be a useful stepping stone into those necessary altered states.

What do you think?  Have you ever tried Ganzfeld for research, fun, or practice?  What was the result?

Some belated basics, or how to scry

All right, so...the time has come to cover some beginning scrying techniques. Even though my goal for this project is to offer a little more depth and breadth than you get from most "how-to"-type content, I'd be remiss if I skipped over the basics completely.  A couple more disclaimers: I don't really believe that visionary skills can be taught.  They come from innate talent and from hard work (and we can argue about the ratio all day), but the bottom line is that I can't teach this, and neither can any book, workshop, etc.  I offer this up as grist for your information mill only.  Second, any time I use spatial metaphors for states of consciousness (e.g., "higher" or "lower") they're just a clumsy last resort and shouldn't be taken too literally.  We're talking about the ineffable here, and it's effing hard to describe.  Finally, should you want some other opinions on how to scry, there are other good books and articles on this topic, so I'll add links at the bottom of this post when I get around to it.

So, the first thing you'll need is your chosen speculum.  Speculum (Latin, "thing for looking") is just the category name for all scrying tools.  (It also happens to be the name of the duck lips a gynecologist uses to look inside a woman's body.  You won't be needing one of those.)  Anyway, you'll take your crystal, bowl of water, mirror, and find a quiet place with a cushion or a chair to sit your ass down.  You can also lie down flat on your back, but if you have any trouble staying awake, then it's not recommended.  Plan on being undisturbed by phones, kids, spouses or pets for at least 20-30 minutes.

Next, prepare your body to enter a relaxed state.  If you already have a meditation practice, then you probably know what works for you.  If not, then experiment to find out.  You can do yoga or stretching to relax the body and settle the mind.  You can light candles or incense to create a special atmosphere.  At the very least, you'll want to sit with your back straight and breathe deeply.  Also place or hold the speculum in such a way that you can look at it for a while without straining any muscles or stifling your breathing.  If you're of a religious bent, you might also want to say a prayer of protection and blessing for your efforts.  You can ask a question, or leave it up to your unconscious mind to show you what you need to see.
And then just...gaze.

At first, you'll be just looking at the speculum. And perhaps, if you're new to this, feeling just a little but silly.  You keep looking.  After a while, any number of changes could occur, depending on the person and the session.  (I know this isn't very helpful, so I'll name a few.)  Your eyes unfocus, so it feels like you're looking through or beyond the reflective surface rather than at it.  You may dissociate from your body somewhat--looking at your hands, they no longer look like your hands.   Maybe you see your face or objects or lights from the room reflected in the speculum, and they begin to morph into other shapes.  Maybe you see clouds or mists swirling about.  (These optical phenomena aren't the same as spontaneous visions--although a resourceful scryer can certainly use them as a handy springboard into a visionary state.)  As you continue to gaze, you slide gently into a trance or self-hypnotic state.  You're still fully conscious, but you're also completely open--open to all the images that are bubbling up to your attention.  The visions you see are not in the crystal or the water or the mirror--they're in your mind--but the scrying tool allows you to relax and concentrate enough to receive them.

See anything?  Great.  Write it down.  You don't have to compose quatrains like Nostradamus--keeping even sketchy notes will prove invaluable as you learn and grow.  Some people swear by voice recorders, which let them quickly record experiences after (or even during) a scrying session.  No matter how vivid your visions are, they will begin to fade almost immediately, and most will vanish completely unless you do the follow-up.

This is just the bare bones of scrying technique, obviously stripped of any ritual embellishments.  In the thousands of years that humans have been up to this, we've concocted a whole mess of practices and preparations that are supposed to improve the scryer or the speculum--but we'll cover some of those in a later post.

Now for a little troubleshooting:

I can't sit still and/or focus.
This is where habitual meditators are at a real advantage.  Scrying (and arguably magick) requires entering a liminal state that's qualitatively different from ordinary waking consciousness.  If you can't quiet your thoughts and relax your body at will, then you aren't going to have much success until you learn to do so.  Fortunately, it gets easier with practice.  Try gazing for just five minutes at a time, then slowly working your way up to 20 minutes.  Or, alternately, commit yourself to sitting with your speculum for 20 minutes, even if you don't see anything, even if all you do is breathe.  Personally, I think scrying, where you allow yourself to observe and follow images as they arise, is a lot more forgiving for the beginner than Eastern-style "blank mind" meditation.  Patience and persistence will be rewarded.

I've tried to scry, but I don't see anything.
Read the above, then realize that human physiology and psychology are on your side.  Countless studies have shown how our brains love to make images where there are none.  Remember that everyone has dreams (two to three hours per night!) and that learning to scry is not all that different from learning to dream with your eyes open.

Doing visualization exercises is one way to improve the clarity and duration.  There are many such exercises.  Some examples are trying to visualize a familiar object as concretely as possible, or trying to recall a group of objects seen once and then hidden away (Kim's game).

If you've put in an honest effort to develop your powers of visualization and still come up blank, then you may just want to consider that some people are more visually oriented than others.  Are you so determined to achieve sight that you're ignoring other senses?  When you scry, notice if you perceive any sounds, voices, smells, or physical sensations that are out of the ordinary.  Maybe your psychic senses are stronger in one of these forms.  You want to be persistent and self-critical, but not so much that you're banging your head against the wall when there's a door to your left, you know?

I see images, but they don't make any sense, or they don't seem to relate to me.
I think the dream analogy is helpful here, as well.  For example, one night you have a dream that accurately foretells a future event.  The next night, you dream that you're riding elephants on the moon while being chased by zombies.  The point is, the subconscious burps up a lot of a stuff and not all of it is Grade A psychic information.  But some of it is.  If you have visions while scrying, then write them down.  You just might be amazed when that McDonald's apple pie wrapper you saw last night shows up on the sidewalk tomorrow.  (True story.)  Sure, we'd all like it if our psychic senses gave us profound revelations all the time, but sometimes they latch onto the ridiculously mundane.  One more point:  Some scryers see images that literally correspond to people, places and events--but many, perhaps most, do not.  Instead, they rely on symbols to convey the necessary information.  Again, keeping a careful record will help you develop an understanding of your mind's own symbolic language.

I see things, but they're frightening and/or disturbing.
On the one hand, there are ugly and terrifying things in all the worlds that we have access to, and the seer's job is to approach them fearlessly and without judgement.   On the other hand, magickal and visionary work is not for everyone.  People with uncontrolled psychic sensitivity--as well as people with severe past trauma, addiction, and mental illness-- ought to approach this practice carefully, if at all.  If the balance of your visions leans toward the grotesque rather than the beautiful, or if the disturbing content is spilling over into your regular life, then stop it.  Learn some ways to cope with your challenges, and take a break from occult work if its forcing you to confront crap that you know you're not ready to deal with.

I fall asleep while scrying, or immediately afterward.
Maybe someone has some good advice on this one?  Because this was my biggest hurdle as a beginner, and still is a problem from time to time.  It's just too easy to slide from a nice deep trance into a drooling, snoring puddle of bliss--a bliss puddle which likely won't remember anything when it wakes up.  I would recommend sitting upright (as mentioned earlier), getting plenty of sleep at night, and maybe incorporating a cup of coffee or tea into the relaxation ritual.  (Though some purists eschew all drugs in spiritual practice, caffeine has been shown to improve concentration in studies, and has even been rumored to help keep a person awake!)

Hope this helps you on your way,

-M