The Outsiders

“An ancient Chinese curse runs, “May you live in interesting times.” Since the fall of the Roman Empire, there has rarely been more interesting times than these. Whenever history becomes unstable and destinies hang in the balance, then magicians and messiahs appear everywhere. Our own civilisation has moved into an epoch of permanent crisis and upheaval, and we are beset with a plague of wizards. They serve an historic purpose, for whenever a society undergoes radical change, alternative spiritualities proliferate, and from among these a culture will select a new world view.” – Peter J Carroll

Gerald Gardner was, it seems to me, a man who never quite fit in. Though English born and bred, most of his childhood was spent in India. The climate was thought to be beneficial to those who suffered from Asthma. It was there that he would first encounter magick. For a time after that he lived in London where he was acquainted with Crowley and frequented Atlantis. While living in the New Forest he discovered the coven of witches into which he was inducted. He found some peace in his latter days as resident expert to the Witchcraft Museum, then located on the Isle of Man. Still he could not bring himself to settle down. Gardner’s natural charm comes across in the interviews he gave yet by all accounts he made few friends. So it was that in the twilight of his life, he boarded a ship bound for India. His life had been that of a restless wanderer. It seems he sought to end his journey back where it had begun.

My place of birth is Exeter, or so my birth certificate tells me. Two years of my childhood were spent in Scotland and a further two were spent in Germany. Most of my life has been spent in Portsmouth. Even this period has been spread across half a dozen different homes; from the posh suburb of Farlington to bohemian Southsea. At the time of writing circumstances have left me with no place to call my home. September will see me travel to the northern metropolis of Leeds, there to study philosophy. Who knows where my life will take me after that? Glasgow? New York? London? New Deli? Each one has its charms. More than likely it will be none of there but rather a place which has not yet even occurred to me. Many of you will know that my patron god is Mercury; a god of crossroads amongst other things. Mine is the soul of a gypsy. The greatest mistake of many made in my life was trying to settle down.

To be an Occulist is to be an outsider. It may be said that there are times and places where the practice of magick is accepted by society. England in 2015 is as tolerant a place as you could expect to find in the world. Even here the Occultist remains of the fringes of society. Crowley, even at his peak, was treated as little more than an eccentric clown good for filling column inches in the newspapers. The question may be asked: Does occultism make you an outsider or are outsiders attracted to the occult? For me it is the latter. We may be able to settle or we may wander like Gardner but in the end we never quite belong. Is that too cynical of me to say? So be it. That is my observation.

We are the lost and the damned. That is the beauty of occultism. We are a community united by our differences. We disagree about pretty much everything yet it has never been my misfortune to meet with a sectarian Occultist. If there is one in the world then they have sorely misunderstood the fundamental nature of what they do. Most faith movement are typified by conformity but occultism celebrates its free thinkers. As a man with no homeland, occultism is the first thing in my life to make me feel part of something. That is, perhaps, what is at the root of the moment of revelation which set me on this path. A friend of mine is from Malvern. She may travel far and wide in her life. Still, she will always be ‘from Malvern’. To someone like me that is enviable. Occultism is the foundation of my identity, just as Malvern is hers. Occultism gives the outsider a foundation. That was its appeal to Gardner, Crowley, Dee and countless others. We should not be surprised that occultism is thriving in this strange and terrible new aeon.

It is the great paradox of our age that we conform to the idea that we must be unique. This is especially true of occultism. My philosophy tutor, having discussed occultism with me on many occasions, likened our community to the scene in Life of Brian where the crowd chants in unison “We are all individuals.” There is nothing actually wrong with a paradox, provided it serves a purpose. Witches are unable to agree upon a definition of Witchcraft, such is our diversity, yet we proudly associate with each other. Even the divide between Gardnarian and Alexandrian Wiccans proved short lived. Both paths still exist but only as dark mirrors of each other. Despite the fact that we may not even agree to all call what we do Occultism (or Esotericsm or Neopaganism), we all belong together in one community. We are outsiders who belong together. Aleister Crowley belonged with Austin Osman Spare. John Dee belonged with Edward Kelley. Jarred Triskelion belongs, for better or for worse, with you who are reading this now.