Lee Morgan’s 7th moon in Standing and Not Falling: A Sorcerous Primer in Thirteen Moons , entitled “The Bodies of the Witch,” marks a transition in the book from the exploration of the formation of the individual to an ontological reconsideration of identity. Having posed the problem of standing as a witch from the viewpoint of forming the human being as a whole, Morgan proceeds to ask what happens when the practitioner no longer thinks of herself or himself as an individual whose body is her or his primary horizon. The witch, according to Morgan, thinks of themselves as existing in bodies – skins, animal bodies, ancestral bodies, imaginal bodies, daimonic bodies, and bodies in Otherworldly realms. These variations on the theme of the body do not remain at the level of metaphor. Indeed, within the animistic and sorcerous framework in which Morgan writes, they are all actual.

Read through the optic of LuxUmbrianism, Morgan’s “Bodies of the Witch” turns out to be a discourse about Becoming. The LuxUmbrian practitioner is not an individual who seeks to become something bigger than herself or himself, who aspires to gain some magical properties from somewhere, from the outside. Rather, she or he is a thresholdbeing who thinks of herself and himself as simultaneously one thing and many, one body and several bodies, one body and several bodies, one social role and many others.

This understanding of identity is closely related to Morgan’s thinking about revolution, to which we will return in a later section. In brief, the LuxUmbrian practitioner is unafraid of revolutionizing herself and herself because she thinks of herself as several things at once. Only those who think of themselves as one thing can be revolutionized in the sense of being made into something new by external factors.

Morgan begins his discussion of the bodies of the witch by reiterating the lesson of his characters Lux and Robin Goodfellow, who both identify as witches. Having noted the fundamental difference between themselves and everyone else in terms of their understanding of autonomy, they both proceed to describe themselves not as one body but as many. While an ordinary person such as Robin’s friend is a “man,” according to Robin, he is also a hob, a wolf, a flash of angelic fire, his ancestors, a child, an elder, mountains, and the Land itself. Robin is simultaneously poetry and war, an eagle and the flint, honey and the sun. Here, Morgan does not intend to describe a particularly vivid imagination. He is stating the theoretical difference between the witch and the ordinary person.

The ordinary person is one body with one history, one set of social roles, one personality, and one body to live in. The witch, however, begins her or his thinking from the body, which, for her or him, is the center of gravity. Yet she or he does not consider it to be the only body, nor does she or he consider this body to be the only history of the self, the only manifestation of her or his existence.

The witch has several bodies – her physical one, her animal body, her ancestral body, her blood-soul, her daimonic body, and her corporal manifestation in Otherworlds, if she has one. All of these are real, albeit in different ways, and all of them are aspects of her identity.

This understanding of the identity is entirely consonant with LuxUmbrianism, which holds that the focus of reflection on the self should be not on what one is but on what one becomes and the many things that one has been. Thus, when the LuxUmbrian practitioner asks “who am I,” she or he is likely to receive an answer that is different every time. This is not typical of modern Western thought, which has become accustomed to thinking of the self as something singular. This is why Westerners often recoil from Eastern philosophies that acknowledge reincarnation and other phenomena associated with the idea of numerous manifestations of one self. It seems utterly incredible to them that one and the same person can have different bodies in consecutive lives.

In fact, this is how Morgan himself thinks of identity. That is why he is so fascinated by the idea of the body as several things at once. For instance, in the second section of the moon devoted to the Feral Discipline, Morgan speaks of the ability to become many things at once as one of the basic magical abilities. We will discuss this concept in more detail shortly.

The first practical section devoted to the bodies of the witch deals with the theme of the fetch, or the double. Morgan’s point is that the body possesses valuable qualities that most modern people do not realize. Thus, certain physical sensations and movements should be considered messages sent by the body.

It is worth noting that the idea of the body as the source of intelligence in its own right is entirely consistent with LuxUmbrianism. The reason for this is that many ancient traditions consider the body to be a repository of knowledge, particularly when it comes to the body’s interactions with the natural world. The heart, for instance, has long been considered the seat of wisdom or a wise part of the brain. According to the same theory, the various parts of the body carry valuable information, which can serve as a guide to understanding one’s actions and motivations. This is precisely the approach that Morgan advocates when he invites the practitioner to become aware of the body’s messages.

As he rightly notes, the tendency of the modern Western occultist is to think of magic as an essentially cerebral activity. One reads and studies extensively, one theorizes, one speculates, one analyzes – in short, one works with one’s intellect – but one neglects one’s body, failing to notice the signals it sends. This is where Morgan’s teaching of the messages from the body serves as a corrective to the excesses of modern Western occultism, which has become excessively intellectualized.

It is particularly noteworthy that Morgan does not oppose the rational and the bodily. On the contrary, he believes that the two should complement each other. This view is entirely in line with LuxUmbrianism, which has consistently advocated a synthesis of approaches rather than an opposition of methodologies. In his discussion of the body, Morgan puts forward arguments that could have come from a LuxUmbrian practitioner. He cites several neurological structures responsible for bodily sensations and emotions, noting that they deserve study. At the same time, he does not hesitate to describe these sensations and emotions in sensory terms, referring to them as messages sent by the body.

A similar position should be adopted when considering the relationship between the LuxUmbrian practitioner and the physical world. It would be wrong to dismiss the achievements of modern neuroscience and the value of studying the brain. However, neuroscience alone cannot explain everything. This is why the LuxUmbrian practitioner needs to develop embodied intelligence alongside intellectual or rational intelligence. She or he should be able to perceive the physical world with all of her or his senses and interpret these perceptions in a magical context.

Morgan’s teaching about the fetch and the messages from the body helps to understand the concept of Feral Discipline, which is also central to his magic. As mentioned above, Feral Discipline is about recovering our relationship with the body.

Modern people have become alienated from their bodies because they think of them as something to be tamed and disciplined. We are constantly encouraged to suppress our instincts in favor of reason. We are taught to ignore our bodily sensations and desires so that we do not act on them impulsively and capriciously. Our desires, sexual feelings, and emotions are undesirable, inconvenient factors that must be regulated, controlled, and put in their place. In short, we must keep our bodies “in check.”

Morgan invites the practitioner to embark on a journey of bodily education and recovery. This journey begins with an examination of the messages delivered by the body. It is important to understand their meaning, to distinguish the signals the body sends when it wants us to do something from the signals it sends when it wants to get our attention.

This is where the Feral Discipline helps the practitioner recover her or his relationship with the body. She or he should not obey every impulse, of course, since this would be a kind of body worship. On the other hand, the practitioner should know how to hear the body and listen to what it says. This is the kind of discipline that helps the practitioner achieve true magical freedom.

The discussion of other bodies is also devoted to the fetch, as Morgan considers it to be the practitioner’s most accessible gateway to other bodies. In his recommendations for the full moon, Morgan asks the practitioner to move from the body via the animal body and the blood-soul to the “Soul of the Bones” and the Holy Daimon, which appear to be other bodies.

At first glance, this is an exercise designed to help the practitioner learn how to perceive the various layers of reality, moving from the most accessible (ordinary human experience) to more complex, multi-layered phenomena such as the Holy Daimon and Otherworlds. However, it is interesting to note that these phenomena, just like the body, have always been part of human life.

Thus, the practitioner can see the animal body as a step on the path to understanding how much she or he shares her or his existence with animals. It is entirely reasonable to consider humans and animals to be different forms of intelligence. This is the premise of Morgan’s teaching of the animal body. Having recognized the shared intelligence of humans and animals, the practitioner then moves to other bodies, to the double and the “Soul of the Bones,” and finally to the Holy Daimon.

It is interesting to speculate that according to LuxUmbrianism, it is the concept of the Morning Star that best of all explains the relationship between the practitioner and her or his bodies. The Morning Star is a concept akin to the Holy Daimon and the Soul of the Bones, which appears to be both within and beyond the self. Just as the Morning Star rises above the horizon at dawn, signaling the transition from night to day, so the practitioner discovers her or his bodies and other forms of existence.

Animals play a special role among the various bodies, and Morgan’s discussion of animal motifs in the chapter deserves special attention. The reason for this is simple: animals are one of the few phenomena that have survived the transition from one historical period to another relatively intact. Thus, animals are useful to the modern practitioner because she or he can learn a lot from observing them, just as people used to do in earlier times.

It is worth remembering, however, that animals are not our inferiors or pets. They are our equals, and their role is to help us remember that we are not gods or monsters but living creatures who have much in common with them. Observing animals can teach us a lot, but we should not try to deify them or consider them to be morally superior to us.

As mentioned above, animals can be excellent teachers. They help the practitioner develop what Morgan calls embodied intelligence. This type of intelligence differs from rational intelligence in that it is based on a person’s ability to perceive the world around her or him with all of her or his senses and interpret these perceptions correctly. The practitioner achieves embodied intelligence when she or he becomes familiar with the properties of various materials, the features that distinguish one type of wood from another, for instance. The ability to feel the differences is essential for developing embodied intelligence. It is no accident that Morgan asks the practitioner to pay attention to the animal body’s ability to discriminate when interacting with the natural world.

One of the most interesting ideas that emerges from Morgan’s discussion is the observation that the selfhood of the witch includes various stages of life. In his recommendations for the waning moon, Morgan asks the practitioner to perceive childhood and old age as manifestations of her or his current self, a view that makes sense within the framework of the Otherworldly theory of time.

This theory suggests that time flows differently in Otherworlds. Thus, the different phases of life that we usually perceive as sequential can overlap in Otherworlds and become intertwined. This idea is closely related to Morgan’s remarks about the different roles that people play and the multiple lives that one person can lead.

It is not surprising that LuxUmbrianism has no difficulty in accepting this version of the multiplicity of the self. It is entirely in line with the LuxUmbrian understanding of the self as a process. The self is not something fixed and unchanging but something that evolves throughout life. Thus, the child that we once were is not totally gone but lives on in us. Similarly, the old woman that we will become is already with us, waiting for the right time to reveal herself.

This is where the understanding of time as a continuum is useful to us. Since we rarely spend much time living in Otherworlds, it is difficult for us to perceive time linearly. This is why we feel as if our time on Earth is short and we should make the most of it. If one does not use the time available to them, one feels cheated. We associate time with the physical body because we experience time through it, and it seems to us that this is the only way that time exists.

When we realize that time is a continuum, we stop feeling rushed. We also become much more accepting of aging and the physical changes that come with it. Understanding time as a continuum also helps us come to terms with the idea that we are mortal.

One of the most interesting insights offered by the chapter is contained in Morgan’s closing remarks, in which he invites the practitioner to consider the possibility that she or he is not as singular as she or he may believe. As Morgan notes, once the practitioner realizes that she or he is many things at once, her or her body stops being the sum of all her or his manifestations. This is the point at which revolution begins. Age, appearance, beauty, disability, sex, and other physical characteristics cease to be definitive features of a person or determine her or his role in society.

From a LuxUmbrian perspective, we can say that Morgan speaks of body worship and the dangers of disembodiment, which is an entirely appropriate topic for discussion. Although LuxUmbrianism does not reject the body, it recognizes it as transient and thus only one aspect of a much broader concept.

It is important to recognize that bodies are sacred because we experience them as a continuum. They are where Light and Shadow meet; they are where we become flesh and bone. Our bodies are transitory, but this perishability is part of their sacredness. Thus, we should not seek to conquer and master the body, as the racists and misogynists of the XXth century wanted to do. On the other hand, we should not be embarrassed by our bodies or consider them to be something shameful. We are not body alone, and we should treat our bodies as something sacred.

We can summarize Morgan’s thoughts about the many bodies by saying that the practitioner possesses at least three kinds of bodies – the Daylight Body, the Feral Body or the Fetch, and the Daimonic Body. These are three major layers of the practitioner’s being. This is why LuxUmbrianism speaks of the Light, the Shadow, and the Twilight, the three realms that the practitioner traverses during her or his life. In fact, however, these are not three separate entities but three aspects of the practitioner’s being.

The Daylight Body is the practitioner’s physical body, the social and temporal body with which she or he identifies herself mainly in everyday life. The Feral or Fetch Body is the animal body, which houses the practitioner’s ancient wisdom. The Daimonic Body, in turn, is the practitioner’s Otherworldly body, which serves as the medium by which she or he communicates with her or his ancestors and her or his Higher Self or God. The practitioner is her or his Daylight, Feral, and Daimonic Bodies simultaneously, just as she or he is Light, Shadow, and Twilight.

We might say that these are three aspects of one whole, which is why the LuxUmbrian practitioner talks about herself and himself as a confluence of bodies, a many-bodied creature. Thus, the body contains the animal, the animal contains the Feral, the Feral contains the ancestral, the ancestral contains the land, the land contains the spirit, and the spirit contains the Daimon. The practitioner’s journey takes her or him through layers of reality, with each layer containing hints of the next and, perhaps, an opportunity for the practitioner to experience the next.

However, there is no final transcendence over the self for the LuxUmbrian practitioner. For all of her or his travels through the layers of reality, she or he does not cease to be her or his physical self. She or he may strive to become something greater, to become God or to dissolve into the Void, but she or he will always remain a body.

For the Order of St Cyprian, Morgan’s remarks about the many bodies are of particular interest because they highlight a concept that is central to all Cyprianic practitioners – the idea of mediation. The sorcerer occupies a privileged position between various pairs of dualistic concepts: matter and spirit, individual and humanity, the human and the Divine, etc. Morgan’s description of the practitioner who has achieved the ability to perceive herself or himself as many things at once shows that the first duality to be mediated by the sorcerer is the self, particularly her or his many bodies.

The sorcerer mediates between her or his own conscious and subconscious minds. She or he acts as an intermediary between her or his human and animal aspects, between her or his ancestral and present selves, between her or his earthly and heavenly bodies, and between her or his individuality and her or his membership in humanity. Thus, the sorcerer is like a crossroads, the point where humanity meets God. It is no wonder that the theme of thresholds plays such a significant role in the Cyprianic tradition; they reflect the sorcerer’s role as an intermediary.

This is where the Cyprianic and LuxUmbrian traditions intersect, as LuxUmbrianism also speaks of the threshold and the crossroads, the points where the self meets other selves. The LuxUmbrian practitioner, like the Cyprianic sorcerer, can move between various manifestations of herself or himself. The same person can occupy many social roles at once, possess several bodies, belong to several social groups, have several careers, and lead several lives at the same time. The most striking example of this is Morgan’s remark that the witch’s self-hood consists of multiple bodies, including the child, the ancestor, the animal, the mountain, and the Land, among others.

The Cyprianic sorcerer and the LuxUmbrian practitioner are similar in many other ways. The sorcerer shares with the LuxUmbrian practitioner her or his ability to exist simultaneously in several social roles, which is why both have always been so fascinated by the idea of social transmutation. The sorcerer, like the LuxUmbrian practitioner, has the ability to transcend her or his physical body, to dissolve into the Light or become one with God. However, she or he does not lose consciousness of her or his role as an intermediary, even on the threshold of death.

Speaking of the many bodies, particularly the Daylight and the Fetch Body, is helpful in order to understand the teaching of the Unbound Way. After all, the essence of the Unbound teaching is that the self is not limited by any one manifestation, be it social, physical, or otherwise. The Unbound practitioner is unbound by external limitations because she or he understands that she or he is many things at once.

It is important to understand that the Unbound Way does not free the practitioner from her or his social role in order to liberate her or him. On the contrary, the Unbound practitioner realizes that she or he can fulfill her or his social role while living fully all the other roles that she or he embodies at once. The Unbound practitioner can be a slave and at the same time a master, a devil and a god, a monster and an angel, a student and a teacher, a predator and a victim, a creator and a destroyer, a man and a woman, etc. All of these binary oppositions can be resolved in favor of the self if the practitioner chooses to do so.

When the Unbound practitioner realizes that she or he is many things at once, she or he is empowered to select those manifestations of the self that seem most fulfilling and discard those that drag her or him down. No social role should be considered inferior or superior to the other. The Unbound practitioner treats every element of her or his social and physical selves as equal, which frees her or him from self-condemnation and the search for atonement. Having transcended the false dichotomies, such as the one between the social and the physical, the Unbound practitioner becomes truly realizes that they are more than the sum of their parts. They are free,

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Brothers and sisters, let’s talk about Bill Hicks. Not as a comedian. Not as some footnote in counterculture history. But as a prophet—a mad, chain-smoking, truth-slinging, no-bullshit prophet who saw through the veil and tried, desperatel…

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more