The Mirage of Failure ; Thai Occult Reflections Pt. 2

One of the most surprising and profound aspects of stepping into the currents of the Thai occult lies not in the power of the magic or amulets themselves, but the slow realization that there is no separation between the practices aimed at achieving results and those aimed at improving the devotee’s character and cultivating their virtues. Even the act of praising a ghost with whom one works contains within an element of Bhakti-esque adoration and gratitude. It is not so impersonal a relationship as that of an employee to whom one assigns a task, nor are the exchanges exclusively transactional in nature. 

As Jenx discusses in his guest appearance on Nightbird Radio Podcast, the magic of amulets open opportunities to us which we are then beckoned to grow into. The doors opened by the magic of amulets do not take the effort out of living, but push us to put forth even more through the new possibilities which unfold before us. This and the central dynamics of Merit, as discussed in my previous post, create a system which encourages virtue and kindness as a means to bettering oneself and actually making the magic work better, which is consciously for the sake of primarily the self however the necessary actions and changes in thinking this brings to one’s life has far more profound and far reaching effects. For the self, yes, but more importantly these changes unavoidably have a positive impact on those in our lives and communities. 

This perfectly illustrates the illusory colonial categorizing which draws a defining line through our Western practices based on the intent of the practitioner rather than the objective effect. If one improves their life through the use of purely results based magic and this alleviates suffering, providing the practitioner has a sense of connectedness and gratitude, does their comfort and joy not then radiate to those in their vicinity? Does a removal of hardship combined with the co presence of awe not create a sort of grace?

And on the other hand, does the theurge and alchemist not improve their luck by toiling in their inner work, shedding layers of trauma, static, and illusion? Does anyone actually believe that this doesn’t have dramatic life improving effects for both the individual and their relationships as well as the success of their magic? By clearing out the static of overactive egos, excessive thoughts and self reflections, are not all the results desired in life closer to reach?

The categorical split between theurgy and thaumaturgy seems, upon examination, to be yet another useless, excessive categorization which only further confuses our dynamic with the living world. Thinking in these terms is subtly suggestive in that it preemptively limits potential. The attitude and archetype of “make things happen for me” is, if not embedded, at least connected by cultural context within the concept of pure thaumaturgy. Perhaps not inherently, but when woven together with a Western psyche so shaped by commerce, commercial, and marketing that many of our first words were from TV, the danger of missing out on valuable lessons for the assumption that they do not exist within the current chosen modality, like a shadow beneath the colossus of capitalist selfishness, is a very real and present malaise.

Lessons exist anywhere we are willing to find them. And even more so with spirit work. Failure can only be measured by one’s inability to learn from the unexpected. Failure is literally just the unexpected happening to a person and their inability to address the invaluable data which is presenting itself. If one is capable of learning from each of their experiences, the concept of failure itself is a fallacy, as one advances more through the insight gained through the unexpected than when things go as intended. 

This is always true.

One must consider that these unexpected experiences may be gifts and our framing of them may prevent our acceptance and comprehension thereof. Which in a living world seems sort of rude, if we’re being honest. 

In the Thai occult, many Ajarns were ordained and trained as monks before embarking upon their magical training for the simple and obvious reason that it makes their magic work better. Here we have a total lack of imaginary line drawn between these two modalities. This is not an example of future thaumaturges dabbling in theurgy as it may seem, as monks are masters of many practices us Westerners would not hesitate to refer to as magic. This is about future magicians learning virtues and wisdom, connecting to higher deities, and developing their skills through practices that are undeniably worthwhile. This does not improve their magic, but the entire self. 

To be more capable, less vulnerable, and possess equanimity, combined with practices which improve intensity and duration of focus poises a future Ajarn to train under many masters without the ego preventing their progress. They have the stability to learn from mistakes without the ego knocking them off course. Their emotional tranquility prevents them from making enemies unnecessarily and closing off potential opportunities to them. And their intimate understanding of the very real metaphysics of Merit and Karma maintain their helpful nature and prevent them from taking advantage of others through their power.

To attempt to draw a line here between two types of practice would not only be silly, but damaging. It seems important to consider how far into our minds and metaphysics our subtle cultural and economic norms and resting philosophies have woven their tendrils. For our sake, and that of our neighbors.

Making Merit ; Thai Occult Reflections Pt. 1

    Within the various interweaving strands of the Thai occult as illuminated through the bold and groundbreaking hands-on work of Peter Jenx there can be found a seemingly endless variety of spirits, ghosts, amulets, lineages, and knowledge. These widely reaching and sometimes drastically differing techniques and teachings can, however, be linked by a metaphysical common denominator which not only creates a medium for the individual parts to interact seamlessly as one unified system, but additionally causes this overarching umbrella to become, at least generally speaking, benefic.

    Buddhism is that common denominator in many ways, but a specifically metaphysical analysis proves more effective for the purpose of identifying and rehabilitating of our own magical blind spots, the wounds we cannot see until reflecting back from outside our own culture and mindset.

    In Western Magic, meant primarily as shorthand for the colonizing world’ and it’s European tributaries’ magical descendants, can be found a historically clinical or transactional view of spirit interactions and magic, one which is likely an unfortunate artifact of both reductionist logic and materialist machine-world philosophy. Animist views are not entirely absent in the West, and far less so with the passing of recent years, though it still seems to be a far less relational, vulnerable, and cooperative modality which gets represented in our literature, teachings, and thinking when compared to those of cultures whose animist roots have remained intact as a part of both their philosophy and identity, such as with Thailand and Burma as represented in Jenx’s work, as in Japan with Shinto, or some of the later intrusions by the Roman Catholic church upon indigenous lifeways in which cases little was removed from the indigenous practices when compared to earlier crusades.

    In the case of the Thai occult there is one element which is so simple, so obvious once it has been understood, and so liberating once it has been employed, that one almost feels as if waking from a long dark dream, a pessimist’s facsimile of life. This single metaphysical component to the Thai occult systems can have such profound impacts on the individual that if one were to hypothesize that all those amulets were just a trick to seed the idea of this single element into the minds of Westerners through a trojan horse of desire, I would say amen and hallelujah.

The concept of Merit is not entirely foreign to us Westerners. The Catholic Church teaches that a reward in heaven is promised for meritorious works, however they unsurprisingly complicate things by breaking this down into three distinct types, getting together with Lutherans and arguing about it until the whole thing was presumably more trouble than it was ever worth to them. But the idea of good deeds as spiritual currency remains, well, meritorious.

We can find this concept employed as magical technology within prayers to the dead, Anima Sola, and in the invocations following Christian prayer and evocation which invoke the “Merits of Jesus Christ,” of which there are presumed to be a great many, in order to persuade and command spirits. When a spirit is being cajoled by Merits rather than offerings or even the blood of the Savior, this alone should inform us of the power and potency of this non-substance in the realm of spirit, and perhaps a renegotiation of our definition of “heaven” could assist us in providing the above Roman Catholic sentiment on the subject with some much needed immediacy of application. 

Heaven, when seen as an analog for the spirit realm which exists in, with, and through the physical (here in the present rather than in an abstraction of the future) becomes suddenly and miraculously liberated from inaction and comes to rest comfortably within a sound, living, active, and most importantly immediate mystical logic.

In the Thai occult and it’s “funny sort of Buddhism” as Jenx lovingly refers to it, the concept and practice of making Merit is central. Within an animist culture, where belief in the unseen is common, the idea of a spiritual record of one’s deeds would seem more tangible, less ethereal. Adding to that the Buddhist understanding of Karma places the idea of Merit further into the real world than you or I can likely comprehend.

I can recall, as a child, being in touch with my true heart’s desires. Mostly I wanted to help and be included. I wanted to give, to do good. It was simple. But over time the disenchanted denizens of the world impressed their ways upon me, seeding fear into my soil. Fear that a good deed unnoticed truly counts for nothing, and that generosity will be met with selfishness in equal measure as a rule.

To put it simply, the fear of getting fucked wormed its way into my heart.

The underlying and under examined materialist philosophy which supported these patterns of thought and action acted as a setting agent in the concrete wall so carefully constructed around a once generous soul. Because if nobody up there was keeping score, the whole thing was a damn wash. The same bureaucratic bone grinder that runs the human world must be in charge of the whole thing.

The thing about all this is, it’s fucking wrong.

If you don’t believe me, go do something nice for someone, go home to your altar, think of the good deed in your mind while pulling in a spirit friend, and offer the good deed to them. Feed the moment of the act to your spirit ally with a generous heart. Hold that shape for a moment and you will feel a response. Try it. Try it with your ancestors. Try it with the land spirits. The inherent truth in merit as spiritual currency is self evident in practice.

We live in one world, with each explanation for how it all works being its own sort of true. But here we have a clear an obvious universal metaphysical technology, one which shows up in multiple places and times and functions cross culturally and beyond borders of tradition or lifeways. The implications of this are staggering and liberating.

No longer does that voice in the back of my head that nags about getting either rewarded or screwed over have an audience with me. The rug has been swept clean out from under that prick, and he absolutely had it coming. The rug is rolling up around him in layer after layer of surrender and lovingkindness.

I encourage everyone to try this.

Go out on a limb: be kind.

Even if just to prove me wrong.