This is where the lost writings from the blog, Psychopomp Groupie, are reshaped and available. Long time readers and fans should appreciate the gesture, as there are many times we all go back to certain essays. Bits of wisdom flowed out as the bumbling through Hekatean magick and relationship formed. Raw, unapologetic and necessary, this was my online journal and place of reference for seekers and teachers alike. Enjoy. 
"Sown in the dusk, and gathered in the gloom
Under the waning moon,
At midnight hardly lightening the East;
And the black lamb from the black ewe's dead womb
I bring, and stir the slow infernal tune
Fit for thy chosen priest"
- from Aleister Crowley's "The Invocation of Hekate"
Chöd and Hekate
“That which is called ‘devil’ is not some actual great big black thing that scares and petrifies whomever sees it. A devil is anything that obstructs the achievement of freedom. . . . Most of all, there is no greater devil than this fixation to a self. So until this ego-fixation is cut off, all the devils wait with open mouths. For that reason, you need to exert yourself at a skillful method to sever the devil of ego-fixation”
I don’t recall exactly when it happened… after a night of 3 am fires in my little temple, creating green flames with absinthe in an offering cauldron. The clean smell of purely burnt offerings brought the familiar feeling of snakeskin against mine, the Fear creeping up my spine as Her darkness gathered about me. My nostrils filled with the subtle manure smell; organically processed grasses mixed with toxins dispelled. This is how I know it is Her and not another, my Titaness cannot be replicated by other mocking spirits. One word came through…a word I was not familiar with and one that would take me on an amazing journey over the next 5 years: Chöd.
In thoughts She speaks to my inner mind, the place which one can barely grasp once it is seen. From afar, Her message comes in one or two words sometimes, or reflective images as surface water. In the very first vision She showed me how to cover my head, although I never felt “right” doing it…so it became one of those negotiated requests Gods sometimes offer to us. Instead I always include a special ring. But this theme of “heads” is recurring in my life, and is very important to the rest of this story.
- My body has never suffered injury, except to only my head (rock thrown at me, concussion from car accident).
- When I took an undergraduate class in Ancient Philosophy, I decided the ideal state of being was for me to be a floating head…no body to drag around, but the intellectual and imaginative free to be. Maybe it was the report I wrote on Hedonism, or maybe it was from watching “The Adventures of Baron Von Muncheusen”, but I became convinced it is the seat of the Soul.
- I used to sculpt Goddesses, and nearly all of them had trouble with their heads staying on. I also had a tendency to rip the heads off my Barbies as a girl, which you should know makes it SUPER hard to put them back on.
- Once I went to a ritual to for Yeshe Tsogyal…the central statue was one which I also had bought on clearance at Target (of all places). A tall wooden dakini, this generic ‘world’ art became the seat for a Bodhisattva in my own home, who unfortunately became beheaded during a move by my husband. I mentioned this after the ritual, for which was told how in one story of Yeshe Tsogyal she is beheaded and walks around holding her own head.
As if these weren’t enough connections (I am hard headed), it was the recurring dreams that lead me to my teacher, and the topic of Chöd came up. After a year of attending Dark Moon devotionals to Hermes and Hekate, our Priest offered an afternoon workshop transmitting a Pagan Chöd with Hekate as the guide. My head nearly exploded. I realized after all this time, when I was trying to find a Buddhist group to learn from or a corpse garden to go sit and meditate in (yes, I was willing to go there), this was what She had meant.
The build up to the workshop was fervent. My gut was completely inflamed with the anxiety spent by my IBS. I placed my cushion as close to the bathroom as I could…in case I vomited or shat myself. He handed out the papers and we spent the next 30 minutes receiving instruction…but the ACTUAL practice only took 6 minutes or so. I was kinda disappointed. I went through so much, got myself worked up and excited for some big elaborate ritual that was going to catapult my spiritual life in overdrive…or something like this, in my mind. But we did the practice, I became Hekate and severed my head from my body, then chopped up my body to put in flipped over skull like a cauldron, then used my femur to stir the pot. I called to the demons, the spirits, the animals, to any and all sentient and wandering and suffering beings who were hungry to come and partake. And they came…in swarms, swiftly and without notice to each other. I maintained the visualization, trying not to be distracted by the other demons, my own, which pulled at my hair and toes, trying to keep me from feeding the hungry spirits. PHAT!
Afterwards, I became myself again, but then we performed it again, and a third time. Afterwards, I ate some food to remind my head and body they were united, feeling at peace and almost speechless for the first time in my life. It was subtle, this profoundness…I sat with it for a week when finally I saw the effects. Two people in our group had their partners leave them. I was sad for them, but glad for being spared whatever effects were rippling in the aftermath of the Chöd. A few weeks later, I decide to try performing the ritual myself, maybe even starting a daily practice. Shortly after, the two people whose partners left them had a huge falling out with enormous repercussions; this also included the majority of our budding Priesthood to abandon their oaths to the group. I was absolutely shocked and swore not to do the Chöd practice again, just in case.
Months passed when I decided my spirit was strong enough to really break through my fears and do the practice. On New Year’s Eve, I made the commitment to myself and my Queen, to begin a daily practice of the Chöd for 40 days. I got 4 days into the practice when my husband started fighting with me. I pushed through until day 8 when he lost his job. I stopped immediately…the Fear had won. My life, at that point, had been exactly what I always wanted: working in a library, husband working from home and doing his thing, living in the country and having enough money to live comfortably. After this, my husband had to move back to the city for work, our marriage took a huge strain and we’ve relocated back to the Bay Area.
What happened? Where is all the merit I accumulated from this practice? Well, I gave it away…emptied my Self of all karma. Do I continue the practice? My actual Fear was manifested before me… causing unhappiness for so many, including my Self. This is not a safe practice, and something I will return to again over time. These demons and spirits, even if viewed through the psychological lens of one’s own personal demons, manifested from our subconscious… they still have to be dealt with, regardless.
I obviously have some connection to it on a soul level, but as I researched this practice the relevancy became much more apparent. This practice is one of the only ones to develop in Tibet and migrate to India…usually Buddhist practice is the opposite. Also, Chöd was first taught by a woman of this world; Machig Lobdron was consort to a holy man, had children, and STILL pursued spiritual advancement successfully. She had been the tantrika Yeshe Tsongel in a former life, with guru Padmasambhava; both incarnated together. Many others who had shared lives with Yeshe Tsongel and Padmasambhava followed them into the next lifetime, where they were married and householders. Machig (pronounced, ironically, like ‘magic’) was an unusual woman who in her younger years had learned to read and worked as a liturgy or holy scripture reader for an otherwise illiterate sangha. Since she was paid for her service, Machig was well known for her very quick readings… fitting several into a day before going home to Her own chores and meditations. Families who heard the readings were blessed for being within earshot and also accumulated merit, or what we might call ‘good karma’, for sponsoring the recitation of the Prajnaparamita (Heart Sutra)… the more times it is read, the greater the benefit. Her multitasking confounds me, as can be demonstrated by the complete ritual; a double-sided drum in one hand, bell in the other whilst singing the chants and songs…at one point a bone flute is also played, to lure hungry ghosts to the spiritual feast. The traditional chod practitioners are akin to the aghori of India; wearing of cast off clothing, eating/drinking from skulls and living in graveyards.
For me, Machig is a reminder that some Buddhas and Bodhisattvas came from humble, ordinary places in life. Enlightened beings find their way back to each other, to continue the work they could not complete in one lifetime. Perhaps this is my time, now… to go and sit in a place of Fear, to call demons and to dance with them. Confront all four demons which arise from this practice: one which blocks the senses, another that distracts the mind, a third whom lures away from discipline with promises of pleasure, and the final demon of ego. I see how they have manifested in my life, and how I have had to battle them… and badly at that. But I am managing to hang on to my own head, even if it is hanging from my neck.
“Without hope, Chöd practitioners are freed from the limits of hope and fear; having cut the ropes of grasping, definitely enlightened, where does one go?”
Sarah Harding, Machik’s Complete Explanation: Clarifying the Meaning of Chöd. Snow Lion Publications. 2003.
Michelle Janet Sorensen. Making the Old New Again and Again: Legitimation and Innovation in the Tibetan Buddhist Chöd Tradition. Columbia University Academic Commons. 2013.
Hekate’s Keys
The keys clank against a chain, rattling on my hip as feet kick up dust from the desert floor. High pitched melodies ring from razor wire, accompanied by the gentle humming of electric fences. Scheming eyes of lost souls penetrate my every move as I cross the yard…the cold wind blowing debris in my path. Black wings flapping, shaking off the morning moisture, and my attention is drawn to the left. A raven swoops down, flying toward my right, with a large banana in it’s mouth. This is a strange omen as I begin my day.
My library stands between two yards, each in the direction of a different mountain range. I offer service according to the time and day of week; each ruled over by planetary spheres accordingly. I unlock the gate, or cage as it is sometimes referred to…swallows and pigeons make their nests above the concrete floor, their babies often fall out and crack open their delicate heads. I unlock the door, leaving it wide open to air out the early morning smell of burnt bread offerings. As I walk past the collection I look for signs of searching, seeing skewed and misplaced books…the violation from custody. Facing and straightening, I make my way to the other door and cage, to unseal the biblio temple and create a breezeway; the invited wind blows fluffy cottonwood seedlings like feathers dancing across the floor.
Pentagrams are thrown toward every direction, salt has been placed in each corner, with sigils of angels tucked into some crevices; purifying and protecting the only neutral place in the prison. For inmates it is a reprieve from gang politics, noisey dorms and short return to something normalized…even if they have never set foot in a library outside the tall brick walls. Research materials line walls of the Law collection, computers waiting for desperate fingers with preloaded databases of case law and empowering information are available within this sanctuary. Sympathy is never offered by the Priestess services, but empathy certainly is. As they pass through the doorway, the past of these patrons is forgotten…only their deeds and words in the sacred space are accountable.
I am a librarian, a Priestess of access. Training for Priesthood, it has been only in the last few years as I finished a long, grueling graduate program and searched for a job, did I land somewhere I never imagined. Between the chod practice, monthly offerings to the Dark Moon, workings at peak full lunar periods and bloody sex magicks did I see the true fruits of these labours. It is hard to describe, process and present the changes amongst it all, but the current Work is one of true mystery as I share this journey.
In the final stage of my Priest training, a journey I began 4 years ago, my life has completely changed. I know people always SAY that, but it’s because there is truth in it. When spiritual work is dedicated, executed properly and not compromised the Universe shifts things around to make the necessary adjustments for your Will to be carried out. It was my Will to become a Priest of Hekate, to serve Her and Her people. When I proved myself She plucked me from my mountain home, removed me from the bamboo groves and running streams and dropped me in a metropolis with my family. Jobless and raising a small child I followed a series of dreams that lead me to the man who would train and eventually, hopefully, ordain me. I took on the challenges and completed the requirements: grounding and centering, manipulation of bodily energies, mastery of the elements, daily invocation of planetary spheres, monthly dark moon devotionals and weekly deity veneration. There are also oaths I have kept concerning the realms for which Hekate rules. This kind of dedication is not taken lightly and prepares one for the eventual end result of unification with Deity.
While the last part of my training has been to have a daily practice (which I do), I am also supposed to be providing a monthly dark moon devotional for the community; serving Deity and the Laity. The thing is, I live in a very isolated place with not a single pagan or witch within a 60 mile radius…or at least not to my knowledge. An online service does not meet this requirement either. However…my job, the service I provide to the hundreds of incarcerated men who come through my library are ‘lead’ by the light of my knowledge. Many ask for legal research, religious information, college guidance, and some are seeking just a few minutes to feel human again. I
With my keys, I open doors to personal empowerment, safety, transformational and servant leadership to the clerks who work for me. The Dead who wander the prison grounds, either as empty human shells or the literal ghosts who haunt the buildings, find the light which Hekate surrounds me with. Her symbols surround me, empower me and provide for me a means of serving in Her name; giving me the economic independence and freedom to pursue goals and dreams long placed on hold. I take nothing for granted nor regret a single step.
Will the REAL Hekate please stand up?
I live between two rival gang areas, near a bridge that gets ‘tags’ quite frequently; the city is actually quite good with re-painting within a week of the spray painting. Usually they include roman numerals or words misspelled in some kind of Spanglish. I have been tempted to go over them with red pentagrams, put Satanic sigils or protective talismans over the top of their tags. Maybe then they will know who’s neighborhood they are in. This is similar to my journey with Hekate. I started out in one gang, then moved to another and then another until I have become my own gang. Things are about to get a little technical, so try to follow along.
Hekate is an ancient Titaness whom modern Neopagans try to compartmentalize so they can understand Her better. This really is nothing new… the Chaldeans made Her part of a Zoroastrian styled menage a trois as Queen of Heaven, with Hekate as the go-between of two masculine Gods. In recent UPG from various LHP ideologies, Hekate has become the diabolical witch Queen of the Underworld. Had-Hekate-Hadad….Belial-Hekate-Lucifer. She is the same… always sandwiched between two Gods. The modern Wiccan interpretation is Hekate as part of the Maiden-Mother-Crone archetype; the go-between as the kindly grandmother who is friend and guide to the Queen of the Underworld, Persephone, during the annual reunion with Demeter. Then there is the Hekate-Kali connection; Mother Destroyer who loves hard and fierce, the other side of the same coin. She has so many names and epithets which have been attributed to Her and many other Gods too, shared as titles over the last few thousand years.
So, who is the REAL Hekate? Is there ONE? Has She just morphed and evolved over the centuries until there is nothing left of Her true form, but the clothing and armor we dress Her in? How did a psychopomp, so closely associated with household cults and worship, become inflated to “Queen of Witches”, the “Cosmic World Soul” and the “Triple Goddess”?
Every year, at the full moon in May, devotees of Our Lady participate in a global event known as the Rite of Her Sacred Fires. It is difficult to pinpoint where this Rite’s origination actually came from, since it’s author, Sorita d’Este, claims it was given upon completion of an anthology by Hekate Herself. The publisher Avalonia, owned and operated by Ms. d’Este, released two other titles regarding Hekate prior to the anthology, fully named “Hekate Her Sacred Fires: A unique collection of essays, prose, and artwork from around the world exploring the mysteries and sharing visions of the torchbearing triple goddess of the crossroads” (boy, that’s a mouthful). Ever since the initial Rite in 2010, more folks are finding Hekate in their lives. She is everywhere and each Hekate is more experiential, personal and approachable than the last.
The Rite includes no formal casting of circles, calling of guardians, or special equipment; only a red candle. Specific gestures are used at the beginning, similar to the Rosicrucian or Kabbalistic cross, with hands ending in opposite directions, one palm up and the other down. There is an initial invocation to the “Queen of Heaven” and several other instructions which include not naming Hekate at all. It is not until the juicy part of the Rite, when the flame is lit, is Hekate actually called into presence. So I ask…who is being invoked at the beginning of this Rite then? The Mother of Hekate, Asteria, the celestial Titan…Her father Perses, a Titan of Destruction…All three realms are Her domain by right of Zeus’ proclamation, the Land, Sky and Sea accessible to none other except the psychopompus; Hermes and Hekate.
Accessible to all who seek out Her, the peak is when barbarous words are intoned…. “Askei Kataskei Eron Oreon Ior Mega Samnyer Baui”. This is what caught my attention all those years ago…I had already been working with Hekate quite intimately in 2010, after our Coven took oaths to Her. We were spending a year facing fears and who better to be the guide of our own personal Tartaros than Hekate. In the first two months I was in a car accident that completely totalled our family vehicle, after we just sold the spare. Although no one was hurt, and the car paid off, it was a lesson in futility as I faced the impact it made financially. I was desperately looking for a way of connecting and serving this most powerful Titan, but how? I found the Rite of Her Sacred Fires less than two months before it was scheduled to commence. I bought books by Sorita d’Este, Jade Sol Luna (including a few albums), read Orphic hymns and immersed my Self in Our Lady of the Crossroads. We moved to a house in front of a natural crossroads, having a stream in the front with the property flanked by bamboo groves on one side and pine on the other, Our Lady awaited in the shadows for me to speak to Her.
It was during this event, I performed the RoHSF for three days, each time at midnight. It changed me, just as it did everyone else. I caught that ‘fire’ and immediately wanted more, so applied immediately for Covenant of Hekate membership and was quickly approved (member #). I was exhilerated when I performed the Rite of the Red Cord. Having just been through the spiritual betrayal of a best friend, kicked out of my Druid Grove (and since has been REPEALED) and in a rocky marriage, I was ready for something strong and true. My spiritual teacher had left years ago, off to the south of France, so I had been in a spiritual limbo so long. It was only appropriate that Hekate answered that call. Because there is so little information on Her cult I sought out other Devotees, to share experiential and academic information with each other, creating a web of witchflame that would set the world on fire. This is when I realized…the CoH was not about Hekate. I watched as endless arguments from armchair historians online became pissing contests, plugs for non-Hekate related books from Avalonia appeared in the forums, and devotion to Hekate centered around the Neoplatonic Hekate as “Cosmic World Soul”. What exactly does this mean to me, as a polytheistic Pagan witch? If Hekate is the great Queen of Heaven (Hera) and Hell (Persephone), the embodied soul of the World (Gaia), and all of these other titles, could there still be room in my spiritual life for the other Gods, Goddesses, spirits, Dead and teachers who I already revere? This was beginning to seem like a Yahweh-type situation….and I wanted to run from that as fast as I could.
So much was beginning to stink so I left, after 3 months of membership, as my questions and exploring only seemed to anger members. And to be fair to Sorita, I stirred up some shit after posting a Scribd link… or any other publisher’s work was not very often shared. Even the symbol of the Covenant of Hekate includes a four-armed equal cross topped by a crescent. The THREEway crossroads are sacred to Our Mother…four belongs Hermes. The red cord was hanging on me, the knot in my belly. I made an Oath to the CoH and Hekate…how was I going to just LEAVE? The CoH does not provide an exit ritual for members when they leave, and none of the Torchbearers knew what to say or do. There was magick in that knot, typing me into the web created and resonating, fed once a year, Hekate devotion becoming more popular than ever before, She was becoming big money and the Rite a global phenomenon which I still participated in every year.
I liked having a day sacred to our Mother Hekate, and the idea of having a synchronized ritual is something even now I love. Until this year I performed and taught the RoHSF; the only thing which stayed with me from the CoH. However, in preparation this year, I took a different look at it. I even finally read the anthology for which the Rite is named. I saw the connection between what the Rite and the CoH were. Hekate had nothing to do with it…this was not Her and I suddenly became violently ill. I saw the web which weaved them all together, the agreement which bound them, and the karma feasted upon. There is reason why the path of mysticism is not for everyone, and it draws the wrong sorts of folks….looking for answers when there really are none to be had. Offering bad chocolate and wine to Hekate is not going to change your life. Dressing your altar in the finest silks or organizing large fetes does not interest Her. This other thing, this egregore, this servitor serves a purpose, and it does not serve Hekate or Her Devotees. Reading some books and praying alone might feel like advancement. Proclaiming oneself a Priest of Hekate does not make one so. The true Hekate comes through the minute a Devotee turns away from others’ paths, reflects only themselves and commits to the one thing: Service to Her.
People ask me, what happened after I left? Well, I surrendered to Hekate, handed over my life to Her Will which is my True Will. She guided me to perform the following ritual, The Burning of the Cord, and my life has changed ever since. Cutting the psychic connection, burning the remains and burying ashes are all ancient methods of severance… and represent Her tools of magick. In the darkness She and I have been, dancing with one another. Tit took the SAME prayer said for two years to our Lady of the Crossroads, honoring each Dark Moon and weekly offerings finally opened my ears and heart to Her messages. Time has moved on for me and my work with Her has intensified as She has taught to me: traveling to others’ dreams, accepting and passing on Oracles in Her name, trance journeys through the Underworld and Middle Realms, and so much more than I can even proclaim aloud virtually. The road of Hekate is rough but it is one that MUST be traveled alone. Many groups come and go with the best of intentions with Our Lady of Land, Sky and Sea…but it will never work because Her natural cult does not flourish this way.