and shall perform your prayers in the same manner as in the morning…
You shall set apart two hours each day after having dined, during the which you shall read with care the Holy Scripture and other Holy Books, because they will teach you to be good at praying, and how to fear the Lord; and thus day by day shall ye better know your Creator.
A fuller account of the final form of my oration is given on 13 August. I followed it with an extended meditation as described under “The meditations” in Chapter Four.
Easter Monday, 11 April 1977
Desperate rising, alarm went off 4.30, not 5.30. Felt a wreck. All seemed like a dream. Half hour or so, saw sun rising a few degrees. Breath rose in steam. Sweated after penitence. Used T's collect.1
Returned about 6.40 am to tea, washing up, tidying. Breakfast 8.30. Huge sweep out and cushion/carpet beating for dining room and kitchen to clear my sawdust, etc. 10 am I offered instant coffee to Mrs Smith—cocoa for me—and had welcome rest for half an hour plus. Then started on spare room [to be my “Chamber”]. Cleaning and leaving heaps of stuff elsewhere. Swept tons of dust and rubbish. Took out mattress into lovely sun (with cold North Wind). I had washed my pillow too. 12 pm I too reclined in sun and rested and read Hymn of Jesus before going to 1 pm lunch at Biker J's. Delicious vegetarian meal. Chatted. Clouds came. Back via SA to say I'd made altar myself.2 Home 3-ish. Dusting and washing room. Made bed, set incense to consecrate room. Tea 6-ish and writing this diary since Friday. Dilemma: should I change for evening ceremony? Decide to try not to, but will shake clothes to save me from laziness. Beans are cooking; I've started soya sprouts too. Must put on some alfalfa to grow.
Aware of noisy traffic in evening, roar of motorway. Scared of dark after.3 Lateish bed as I ate after evening session.
Tuesday 12 April
Much fresher. A warmer morning. Washed up and had toast for breakfast (no eggs or cheese in house). Read chapter on circulation of the light in Taoism and Creativity and dozed slightly. Actually the dreaded drop-off4—on my second day! Oh help! Just for a flash, but I did feel different for it. Shopping on the High Street 10–11.30, about. Took along lots of dry cleaning and bought tons of food. My case had come and gone at antique shop. Looked at books. Some loss of awareness but I remained alert right across Redbourn Common on way back (slipping, bulging shopping bags probably helped). Noon I had scrambled eggs and Swiss chard. Read Secret of the Golden Flower. Put lime on garden, moved cloche to the peas. Re-planted onions and helped Mrs Smith with her boiler and clock. Read magazine after tea and somehow day seems short of achievement though I have done some necessary clearing jobs and now have a table in my “chamber”. 9 pm, cloudy day, no sun.
MUST: make altar floor, lamp. Write up official diary.
Wednesday 13 April
Damp, dark morning. Dream of Dobro player visiting me and me having a go. Later, dream of telling N about dream of Dobro player. Dream of returning to Eton: I'd asked to go back and was told to apply in normal way for the job. Another dream of [my recent work boss] coming round for a drink—he seemed to come in a sort of pleading way. My dwelling was very grand and he was impressed and honoured. Another dream of C giving birth to a third child.
Morning operation: traffic loud, although morning. Better concentration, sat in meditation and withdrew through choice and not because of getting fidgety. Scratching on roof surprised me, but I was unshaken. 6.40 am.
Brek after washing up. 7.50. I read till N got up. 8.30 sat to write my Abramelin Diary. Wrote till 10.
Late lunch (1.45) as I spent morning making a lamp. Simple, but the result is surprisingly attractive. I hangs beside me in my chamber. Tonight I will fix a hook for it, but not take it in.
Large lunch: ersatz [soya mince] bolognese with nettles. Tasted grapefruity. Sun had appeared and after lunch it was sunny enough to lie out to read. Removed my jeans. It would have been good sunbathing except for cold when occasional clouds came. Cut wood for altar floor, planted out rest of potatoes. Made pea soup. Was washing up at 5.45 when N returned. Chatted over tea. Now 6.45 and writing up as sun sinks low. This room [my chamber] is good as a study. I like the view.
9.15 to bed after large welsh rarebit.
MUST: Wash some clothes, shorts. Take down floor. Get cream. Put in beans?
Start of dedicated Abramelin diary
Wednesday 13 April, 8.30 am
This morning I rose at 5.50, washed and put on my thermal underwear and judo suit and went to my oratory about a quarter of an hour before an invisible sunrise. It was a warmer morning than of late, but completely overcast and about to drizzle.
Kneeling before my altar I prayed as directed and also sat in silence, as in the Taoist meditation, to be receptive. I made use of the prayer that T had provided. All this will be the normal routine from now on. Half hour.
Today it was better, in that I stopped because I felt enough had been said, not because I felt ashamed of my deteriorating concentration. A sudden scratching on the roof surprised me, but did not shake me. Seeing the young green buds through my window, I made a special reference to nature and my country upbringing.
This is the first morning I have not been alone. N returned last night. The need to avoid clashing with him helped to structure my morning—I still need such props—so I have come up to write after a short reading about Taoist meditation after breakfast. Alas, two days have already gone without my writing up.
The idea of attempting this operation arose before Christmas. It might not have arisen at all but for K, who had contacted me out of the blue last autumn to ask my advice about doing the operation herself.
This left me with insufficient time for preparation, and I did not hurry even then! Lateness has been the hallmark so far: I did not read the book thoroughly until late, letting myself in for some shocks. The silver censer I ordered will not be ready till May or June. The order I'd placed with SA for an altar was too late to give him enough warning, so I had to bodge mine own at the last minute. The oratory is unfinished in detail. My wand is uncut. My lamp has yet to be made. No talismans are drawn and my robes are unfinished.
All this adequately mirrors my soul!
Why then am I doing it? Especially as Redbourn is anything but my ideal site, being suburban, rather noisy and overlooked.
My thought was this: I am old enough to look for a really satisfying career, and once set on that career it will not be easy to spare six months. So it should be soon.
At Christmas I decided to investigate the omens, and my heart. I struggled with the astrological I Ching.5 So wearisome was the process that I said to myself: “If it makes out that 1976 was a good year I'll read no further”. As it turned out, the previous years were adequately described.
1977 is “the well”. The yearly hexagram interpretation revealed that it was not time to teach until I had learnt myself, “the well needs relining”. This seemed very relevant to my present situation; SSOTBME has produced a few questions from interested readers. It was also a good year to “sink a well or dig a mine”; a reasonable metaphorical description.
By way of contrast, 1978 will be a year of dreams coming true—and of success. Should I not therefore wait until next year? No, because my present dreams are worldly and their coming true would hinder such an operation. The operation itself should refine my wishes.
In January, T came to supper and we discussed the operation. In subsequent letters, long and helpful, he showed considerable understanding and gave me much support. He raised doubts about the authenticity of the book, about its lack of connection with existing traditions. We discussed I Ching readings. But just before Easter he sent me a card, a picture of Tobias and the Angel. On the back was a collect for the Feast of the Guardian Angels (2 October).
Was this his own invention?