commented before, I learned a lot about how engraving seals of spirits gets them into your sphere. What I didn't realize at the time was that when you are dealing with Goetic spirits, you don't leave them around with nothing to do. Because they will be themselves. It's important to remember that "idle hands are the devil's work shop." Or however the cliche goes.
So I made these 9 seals for someone. The seals turned out beautifully, and I wrote all about how wonderful it is to get to know the spirits by drawing their seals. Beautiful, useful, intelligent stuff, if I do say so myself. I wrote in detail about how when you draw the seal, you have begun to conjure the spirit. The spirit is there.
But I didn't think about what it means to have a Goetic King hanging around with nothing to do. They were themselves. The one that can bring a man all the love he desires until he's had enough, Beleth, also happens to be adept at starting fights between lovers when she's not busy. (Or he. I'm pretty sure it's a she. I get this vision of a harpy, smirking to Herself, like a Sugmad bird.)
So one day it hits me, there's some serious shit going on in my life. I never have shit. Well, I actually have a lot of shit to deal with. Rather frequently; the unpleasant side effects of living in a physical body that happens to be run by a paranoid psychotic who lives only for the pleasure of the moment. I'm talking about the Nephesh, not "me" the Ruach. I'm pretty much perfect, it's that crazy bastard under the hood that freaks me out.
But there was more shit on the road than usual, and the nut driving wasn't dealing with things very well. The Nephesh is lost in a fit of road rage that's left him blind from the froth spattering his face as he swears incoherently at other drivers, it's pouring down rain, and there are potholes the size of minivans in the road. While I've been sitting there in the back seat, carefully polishing these nifty talismans, finding a nice cigar box to ship them in, writing long emails of advice and warning to the buyer, I'm literally driving on the fucking railing, and did I mention there's a thousand foot sheer drop just past the railing? All of a sudden, I wake up and smell the shit burning.
So yeah, you betcha, I called my HGA. It hit me during of deep meditation. I was in one of my frequent moments of pure Zen, when I realized that I REALLY needed to talk to HGA. You know, deep in trance. My consciousness was in perfect equilibrium, not knowing, not thinking, just being. Finding Dhayana, achieving complete harmony with the celestial spheres...
Ok, so I was playing Guitar Hero. It might at least have been Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas, but I don't really remember. Anyway, I sat up straight(er) and hit pause. (Didn't want to ruin my 100% streak.) Closed my eyes to slits until just a touch of light filtered through. Took my consciousness through the back door escape hatch and entered the Astral Temple.
"HGA?" sez I, conjuring him by Name.
"Yo?" he answered in all his transcendental wisdom and resplendent Glory.
"WTF!?" sez I.
"Demons, fool!" He graciously aswered.
Ok seriously, I conjured my HGA, and he showed me what was going on, showed me that I knew better, pointed out the damned blog post that I had said what was happening to me would happen to the careless magician and everything. He also showed me some pictures, and this is where it gets meaty.
So I had these Nine Spirits hanging out. (Nazgul much? No thanks, I'm trying to quit.) They were bored, they reverted to their natural inclination. Driving people nuts with distractions from the world. HGA shows me how they're these... blobs of undirected forces in my life. They were mushing me, prodding my sphere by their presence near me.
And he sez, "Put them to Work."
Ok, sez I, I can do that. And I get this vision. I'm at the center. There's this greenish background, like the color of a mini-golf green. Only it's like it's behind a sheet of smoked glass, or like some graphic artist had inserted a layer of barely opaque black over the top of it, and I was standing in the middle. Around me facing outwards were the Nine Kings of the Goetia. If you've see The Dark Crystal, it was like that. Me and HGA were in the center, and they were radiating outward.
It was sort of like the picture above, looking down. It was more like the picture below, from a side view.
Ok, sez I, I'm not about to do a full conjuration of nine Goetic Kings, no friggin' way. And certainly not all at once, that's just plain stupid. I've got enough shit to deal with just from drawing their seals. Also, I'm right in the middle of this song, and my Ring of Solomon's all the way in the other room with the silver pentagonal figure...
Clear and to the point, HGA doesn't let me off the hook. "Ok," I think at him, "but no way I'm doing this alone."
"Never; never have, never will."
So we conjured all nine Kings, gave each specific instructions, and lined them all up. It took a while. There was no stink, the Kings were amiable enough. They seemed to settle into the ... right ... places. Weird to explain. And everything has worked out perfectly since then, with no massive adaptation to having this kind of force around me all the time. Of Course.
Now, for fun, superimpose a Tree of Life over that side-view image up there, with Tiphareth at the top of the column. The base of the column rests in Malkuth. The Nine Kings are nestled right at Yesod. Neat huh? That wasn't even on purpose.