Between m and M: Magick, Mysticism, and Powers Beyond Intent

Introduction

For the past year and a half, my focus as a magician has turned toward the practical. I have pursued magick as a lived method of attainment—a process of testing, refining, and crafting a life that is, to borrow Jason Miller’s term, “enchantable.”¹ This is a life structured in such a way that magick can work. While this phase has certainly brought its share of practical success—improbable outcomes, synchronicities beyond statistical odds, and events that can only be described as miraculous—my earlier work was largely theurgical. In retrospect, I see my practice unfolding in alternating seasons, with periods when practical magick held sway and others when mystical growth took precedence.

Between m and M: When Magick Becomes Mysticism

Let me be clear: I am not presenting this sequence as a universal rule. Magick, like mysticism, resists dogma. That said, I believe magick—whether aimed at external change or inner ascent—functions as spiritual technology. It comprises techniques tested, refined, and transmitted through generations to produce transformation. These changes can sometimes be tracked and replicated: candles burn, spirits appear, outcomes shift. In this way, magick can be systematized and observed.

Sometimes I like to think of magick with a lowercase m and Mysticism with an uppercase M. Our daily rituals are acts of magick (m), but when their power carries us beyond our intent, we glimpse Mysticism (M). In this shorthand, magick (m) refers to the methods—the spells, rites, and operations we perform—while Mysticism (M) denotes the lived experience of union and revelation that arises when those methods become vehicles for transformation. I want to emphasize, however, that not everyone who practices Mysticism (M) engages in magick (m), and vice versa. That’s okay. The ethics and comprehensive goal differentiations of magick lie outside the purview of this essay; that will be for another time.

Powers Beyond Our Intent

I’m going to be honest here. Theurgic changes (M) are, to me, much scarier than a demon ever could be (m). To see a spirit, the sign of a spirit, or the feeling of something otherworldly can be riveting, overwhelming, and terrifying, but nothing compares to facing the self. I remember the story from a monk in the Eastern Church describing the transformative experience of the divine. He shares that it’s like thinking you are beautiful without ever having looked into a mirror, but once the mirror is put before you—you see the truth—all the sores, rough lines, and defects—the boils and the pus. The beauty that you thought to be there was a mask of your own choosing. I would add to this story that it is a noble idea to say that I held up the mirror and I made these changes. Most people like to think that this happens, but I would say that this relates more to a false solar ego—a planetary mask that must be stripped away. During this time the ruach, to speak in kabbalistic terms, has not come under the presidency of the Neshamah. Early in our work we are a being of mixed wills, of contradictions. There is something in us that desires to ascend—that divine spark within all of us calls to move higher—but another part of us likes to be where we are; it likes the comfortable, it craves the idea of being good. The truth is, in my experience, the divine brings the mirror before us. A part of us wants to look away, while another part wants to ask questions of healing, union, and equilibrium. There are times we are brought before the mirror kicking and screaming. I guess theoretically this experience depends on the cooperation of wills, but I’m no holy man—and my experience was exceedingly rough.

Remember, magick is a technology: the ritual will accomplish its purpose—I feel like this discussion is present within practical magick, but lost within more theurgical practices. When you start out on the theurgical path, be sure you are ready to face what you are putting into motion. Energy is not created nor destroyed—it is transferred, moved, and recalibrated. Theurgy is essentially soul surgery employing procedures of the grand physician. It is powers beyond our intent—the ruach and nephesh have not been brought under the presidency of the neshamah. This is precisely why it requires a technology: it is not volitionally possible without the pull of the divine—this is the true grace of God.

Theurgic Practice: Banishing Rituals as Inner Alchemy

To ground the theurgic work I’ve described, I adopted two cornerstone rituals from the Golden Dawn corpus: the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Pentagram (LBRP) and the Lesser Banishing Ritual of the Hexagram (LBRH) (There are, of course, other mechanisms of theurgic technology, but this was the practice that I fell in love with and adopted; it has also given me a spiritual language and symbol system that I am too well immersed in to change now! Also, yes, I did practice them in their banishing and invoking forms--invoking in the morning, banishing at night). Far from being mere preparatory cleansings, these rites function as precise technologies for equalizing the elemental makeup of our being and revealing the planetary masks—the false selves—we habitually adopt.

The LBRP, as Israel Regardie explains, “is the foundation of all magical work, for it purifies the four elements within the aspirant and establishes a firm boundary against unwanted forces.”² By tracing the five-pointed star in the air and vibrating the divine names at each point, the magician systematically balances Earth, Air, Fire, and Water within the astral body. This elemental equilibrium not only clears psychic debris but also serves as a diagnostic mirror: as the elements come into harmony, the distortions in our character—manifesting as emotional volatility or mental rigidity—become unmistakably clear.

Building on this foundation, the LBRH addresses the seven planetary influences that color our consciousness. In Dion Fortune’s words, the hexagram ritual “procures control over the currents of the heavens, drawing down their power in a manner consonant with the divine will.”³ By working the lesser ritual of the hexagram, we uncover the “planetary masks” we wear—the parts of the false ego fashioned under Saturn’s rigidity, Jupiter’s pride, or Sol’s false son-self. That solar ego which boasts of its own light yet obscures the true spark of neshamah. The magician learns to recognize these masks in daily life—whether in prideful words, crippling doubt, or reactive emotions.  As each planetary current is balanced, those masks fall away, exposing the mixed wills of ruach and nephesh beneath. 

As I stated earlier, this theurgic road is not without pain, it is not a peaceful experience.  The best thing you can do, as a practitioner, is get rid of every enlightenment fantasy that you have within your head. Listen intently to the divine voice that utters to us all—and above all else—make sure you are ready.  Because if you start performing rituals—and set powers into motion—the magick will act, the technology will work, and it will change your life.  It will take things that hold you back, that reinforce your false selves—no matter your attachment to it.  It’s going to show you some ugliness about yourself, but be diligent, get comfortable with being uncomfortable.  Face your shadow.  As I have stated m will lead to change, but in my experience, the power of M via the technology of m will yield much greater fruits.  Afterall, a balanced self, without volitional confliction and self-transparency will be a much greater vehicle to accomplish your goals.  How can the opposite do the work that needs to be done?  How will confusion and distortion aid you? These are questions for reflection.

Concluding Thoughts on the Lesser Pentagram and Hexagram Rituals and the HGA

This talk of theurgy, golden dawn rituals, and divine ascent bring us naturally to the discussion of the HGA experience.  In particular, the relationship of the pentagram and hexagram rituals to that experience, and the lasting change that happens as a result within the magician.  First of all, I’m not going to tell you if I’ve had an HGA experience—I don’t think this is something that I would ever share—at least I haven’t come to a place that I feel it is necessary.

However, I want to emphasize, in the system I am utilizing, the lesser pentagram and hexagram rituals serve as essential preparation for the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel.  This was outlined by S. L. MacGregor Mathers and elaborated by Aleister Crowley.⁴ By systematically equilibrating the elemental and planetary energies within us, these rites create a stable vessel for the Angelic Presence. Without this inner equilibrium, the powerful currents invoked during the HGA working can become overwhelming, misdirected, or even destructive.

The pentagram ritual’s clearing of the four elements ensures that the magician is not tossed by, for example, emotional turbulence (Water) or mental chaos (Air) when the Angelic force arises. Meanwhile, the hexagram ritual’s harmonization of the seven planetary currents—especially the balancing of Sol’s authentic light against the false sun-self—prepares one to receive higher degrees of illumination without arrogance or collapse.

Crowley writes that “the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel is the single most important task a magician can undertake,”⁵ yet he also warns that “this work is not possible without a firm foundation of self-mastery.”⁶ It is precisely the intimate self-knowledge gleaned from the these rituals—the diagnostic revelations of shadow and sun—that establish that foundation.

Through daily practice of the pentagram and hexagram rituals, the magician learns to recognize the Angel’s subtle promptings amidst the clamor of egoic voices. Each ritual becomes a rehearsal for the HGA working to awaken the inner senses to the Angel’s language. In time, these rituals give way to invocation of the Angel, and the magician moves again from disciplined exercise and technology (m) to living communion (M).

The lasting change is profound: having navigated the elemental mirror and unmasked the planetary personas, the magician stands in a new relationship to self and cosmos. The Holy Guardian Angel, once a distant ideal, becomes the guiding presence shaping one’s work and life. This transformation—borne of ritual precision and divine grace—demonstrates how theurgy (M), rooted in magickal technology (m), truly lays the path to radiant union.


Frater Henosis

Footnotes

  1. Jason Miller, The Enchantable Life (New York: Arcana Press, 2023), 45.

  2. Israel Regardie, The Golden Dawn (York Beach: Samuel Weiser, 1988), 81.

  3. Dion Fortune, Psychic Self-Defense (Woodbury, MN: Llewellyn Worldwide, 1966), 129.

  4. S. L. MacGregor Mathers, “Liber LXV: Of the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel,” in The Equinox, vol. 2 (London: Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Co., 1909), 45–50.

  5. Aleister Crowley, Magick, Liber ABA (New York: Dover, 1973), 1:77.

  6. Ibid., 1:85.

Bibliography

Crowley, Aleister. Magick, Liber ABA. New York: Dover, 1973.

Fortune, Dion. Psychic Self-Defense. Woodbury, MN: Llewellyn Worldwide, 1966.

MacGregor Mathers, S. L. “Liber LXV: Of the Knowledge and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel.” In The Equinox, vol. 2, 45–50. London: Simpkin, Marshall, Hamilton, Kent & Co., 1909.

Miller, Jason. The Enchantable Life. New York: Arcana Press, 2023.

Regardie, Israel. The Golden Dawn. York Beach: Samuel Weiser, 1988.

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