So, this post was prompted by a number of thoughts, experiences and conversations I’ve been having lately. It is not intended to come off as me being on a high-horse. I’m just trying to give some practical advice, which I need to take to heart as well.

So: magic can do a lot for you, but it can’t do everything. There are things which are in the realm of the mundane that ought to be approached by mundane means.

To give a rather extreme example: the other night I met a man who had… rather questionable hygiene, very little social graces, and a number of toxic and immature attitudes. He’s a magician. He confessed to having used magic to try to force a woman to become attracted to him. (She was a witch and she resisted.) He acknowledged that this had been “a bad idea” but otherwise didn’t seem to have learned much from the experience.

And I was just sitting there thinking, why is this guy prepared to go straight to dark ceremonial magick to obtain a partner instead of, ya know, taking a shower, getting a haircut, and working on himself a little bit?

I was judging him, for sure– but it also made me think about myself. Specifically, it reminded me of conversation I had with my magical mentor recently about my Qliphothic workings. My mentor cautioned me against going up the tree too fast.

“Well, Crowley did it with the Sephiroth,” I whined, “and he clearly got a lot out of it.”

“Yeah,” my mentor, who is a Thelemite, agreed, “He did, in many ways. And we have benefited from that work he did, and the knowledge he gained. But you know what else?” They paused for a second and then let loose with the last thing I expected to hear, yet the first thing I should have expected them to say:

“HE WAS A DICK.” 

My mentor went on to opine that, for a person who hasn’t done some basic self-work, going up either tree in a hurry may only crystallize bad tendencies. Sometimes spiritual practice is just doing your dishes and sweeping the floor. First thing’s first. Before you can be a badass magician, you need to be a decent human being.

This reminded me, strongly, of things that my 12 step sponsors have said. I am lucky to have a recovery program that taught me, a fuck-up with no idea how to live, to be an adult human being. (It also, hilariously, introduced me to Luciferianism, as a consequence of my needing to find a “higher power.”)

I think I have been taking my recovery for granted, and neglecting that basic self-work. People are really starting to respect me as a magus, and I’m torn between imposter syndrome and getting a big head about it. I’ve neglected physical self-care, and as a consequence, my recent workings have taken a toll on my physical and mental health.

It’s time to get back to basics, to ground in the mundane for a minute, to remember that before I am a big scary magus, I need to be a grown-up who makes my bed, pays my bills, and is generally nice to people.

This whole topic also reminds me of LaVey’s most original and brilliant concept–that of “greater” and “lesser” magic. For those who aren’t familiar, “greater magic” is all the shit most of us think of as magic– ya know, what goes down in the temple, in front of the altar, with the bells and incense and ceremonial daggers and incantations. “Lesser magic” is using the mundane to your advantage. It’s your posture, how you dress, the way you use eye-contact, the way you speak and present yourself. It’s how you come across in social interactions. It’s whether, when guests come over, you have a sink full of dirty dishes. And the “magic” of lesser magic is how people respond to you based on all those things, the huge difference that standing up straight can make in getting what you want.

An exhausted, hollow-eyed magus may have a certain whiff of occult power about him, but he might also have a hard time acing a job interview.

A magus who doesn’t shower, on the other hand, certainly has a whiff of SOMETHING, and I’m not sure it’s power of any kind. My fragrant friend did prompt me to joke that maybe all that ceremonial bathing required in old grimoires was just to make sure that magicians, the nerds of their time, actually attended to hygiene. “We’ll only get them to bathe if they think it’s required for Goetic summoning…”

So this is a reminder, for anyone reading this but especially for me as I write it, to take care of business. Take care of yourself and your home. Go to therapy if you need it. Be good to your friends. Try to respond maturely to the situations which present themselves in your life. Because all your spiritual growth doesn’t mean shit if it doesn’t manifest in your mundane world and make you a stronger, better, more powerful and wiser human being.

Aleister Crowley, the greatest magus of his age, died addicted to drugs, and abused many of his sexual and romantic partners. Don’t be that guy. Keep your ego in check, your physical well-being on the front burner, and your human relationships dear to your heart.

And if you’re reaching for magic when a mundane solution is right in front of you, for fuck’s sake put down the grimoire and do it the easy way.