File Name: the kabbalah and magic of angels .zip
Using the powerful insights of the Kabbalah, we can bridge the unfathomable distances between our material world and the divine realms where angels dwell. Providing a complete introduction to Kabbalistic concepts, Migene shows how to apply them to our relationships with numerous angels. Included are ways to contact angels and work with them, from simple spells and magical rituals to full Kabbalistic evocations.
Kabbalah Magic Book. Kabbalah by Gershom Scholem — Beyond a doubt, the greatest book about Kabbalah you can find.
Various teachings assign Raziel to diverse roles, including that of a cherub ,  a member of the Ophanim ,  and chief of the Erelim. Raziel, under the alternate name Galizur "Revealer of The Rock" is described as the "-ruling prince of the 2nd Heaven. The famous Sefer Raziel HaMalakh "Book of Raziel the Angel" attributed to this figure is said to contain all secret knowledge, and is considered to be a book of magic.
One path is mundane and well worn, and the other is the way of magic. Magic is the art of transformation, of altering consciousness and experiencing the life changes that result. It is a science of empowerment, of using word, image, and gesture to reach into the darkness and set free the imprisoned faculties of the soul. For this reason, its power is forbidden.
A person may sit quietly sometimes and marvel at the irony of his life. He participates in a booming materialistic culture that stifles his spiritual needs for the sake of its progress. Despite the grandeur of technology, the modern progressive world restrains the individual from exploring the depth and breadth of his own soul. His parents and teachers have cautioned him to stay safely in the norm-to be successful, become rich, and start a family. It is disreputable for him to strive for anything outside of those lines.
But it can't be helped that there is the occasional quiet moment-between phone calls, perhaps, or after a movie-when he feels a different possibility. Sometimes it takes the form of a soothing calm, sometimes a radical curiosity. And sometimes it becomes a nagging doubt. A silent voice asks, "Is this all I was made for? Why is the life I am expected to live not enough? The purpose that Western society has created for the individual is a sham.
Mesmerized by a mirage of "happiness" that hovers around material 1 2 Chapter One possessions, we reach for creature comforts that inevitably comfort us less and less.
We are addicted to the pursuit of prosperity, craving more and trying harder, even though our lifestyle of ravenous consumption does damage to the earth and leads us away from the very contentedness that we pursue. By conventional thinking, the material circumstances of Western life have been getting better by leaps and bounds. Adjusting for inflation, the average American income in the year had doubled since Today it is Sound familiar? Today, supermarkets overflow with an abundance of food so affordable that even the poor suffer an epidemic of obesity.
Waitresses take holidays together on luxurious pleasure cruises. Children of dockworkers receive college educations. We live in conditions far superior to those of the aristocrats of the nineteenth century. But despite this golden age of conveniences, surveys measuring the average human's happiness have shown no improvement. In fact, depression is on the rise, and the number of those people who would describe themselves as "very happy" has been decreasing steadily since But this is not a book about returning to the magic of the Middle Ages for adventure.
Not exactly. Consider instead the following assessment: even as human progress is taking away the difficulties of staying alive, we are thereby gaining more freedom to pursue the even greater challenges of a different landscape in a different realm of our existence-one that has always been there.
Our lives as animals are presenting fewer and fewer obstacles to overcome. A new kind of evolution is surfacing: the life of the individual stepping into the frontier of his own soul and exploring the confines of his interior psychological and spiritual vehicles.
The discipline of magic has never been easier than it is today. And who could blame the average person for failing to see this possibility? When the incarnated human wakes up wounded and human on the beach of life, he finds that he has been given a gift for which he has misplaced the instructions. Survival is an urgent business, after all. What could possibly come before that?
The culture into which the individual is born helpless and vulnerable rescues him from certain death by teaching him a patchwork, haphazard survival manual, fabricated from mankind's traumatic evolutionary past. And so the individual grows up infused with beliefs that keep him alive but that nonetheless have no basis in his true identity. He learns to fit into his culture and to dutifully ignore his desire to find himself.
And why not, after all? Disregarding the lessons of his elders may endanger his very life. But what if the silence between commercials begins to whisper? What if he came to realize that his bosses, parents, and teachers, despite their prestige, know nothing?
What if he discovers that his culture's entrepreneurs, politicians, scientists, and leaders are actors and not very good ones who are just as lost? What if they are on the same beach, having assimilated their culture just as he did, beguiling themselves into the notion that it reflects their real purpose? We are each of us wounded by mortality, and our role models have come to our rescue by putting a bandage on a hurt that will never heal.
The average human, underneath a veneer of confidence, is still a terrified castaway severed from his true nature, clinging to the first paradigm that comes along to give him a modicum of security. The proud father hands over the traditions of his prosperous forefathers as though he were passing along the Holy Grail, and yet he knows nothing. He receives his instructions from his forefathers, who know nothing.
They receive their traditions from the same nothing. And so it goes, on and on, until the mind is left staring into an abyss of nothing, the foundation on which it has built its sense of self. The chain of ignorance seems to go back into prehistory, to a primordial beach and that clueless castaway. At some point in evolution, through some divine accident, the human race bumped its head and lost its inherent purpose.
And since that fall from grace, it has been faking it, using strategies for living that do little more than help it maintain its numbers in successful but nonetheless unfulfilling ways. A person can spend all his life learning the ropes of making a living, fending off danger, fitting in, and climbing the social ladder, all the while neglecting the task at hand-the task that sits right before the nose of every human on the planet.
There is nothing of this world that can satisfy the new kind of hunger that rises in someone who, like a seed in the earth, is ready to grow beyond his material conditioning.
The job promotion, the blockbuster movie, the dream vacation, the perfect spouse-all of these fall short of satiating the longing that drives the soul to worm its way upward through the trappings of life into the open air of awakening. For such a soul, who realizes that there is nowhere to hide, no security blanket that will soothe him for long, it is inevitable that the comfort of the norm becomes a prison house of agony. He has remembered that he is still that castaway on the beach. He is pressured from within to transcend this world and regain his lost knowledge.
Though his fellow castaways may pass him by, proceeding on into the lives of money and glamour, he himself stays behind to explore the gaping silence that is forever embedded in the here and now. That dreaded silence. Most people of the Western mindset live in fear of it. They stay busy to escape its emptiness. Cut off from their own animal nature by processed food and air-conditioned offices, they occupy themselves with television and homeimprovement projects to keep at bay the uncharted darkness within.
The very mention of the silent deep comes as a threat to the person who is not ready to explore it. To him it is as death. If he could learn to suspend his senses but for a moment, it is as though the awful silence would well up and annihilate him. He settles instead for curling up around his acceptable beliefs and drifting off to sleep. But as we all eventually realize, happiness isn't bought so cheaply. He might as well try to sleep with a thorn in his side. On some level, he knows that he is deceiving himself, and he even knows that there is a price he must pay if he ever decides to rise and go after the real thing.
It is the price that all liars fear. The more he distances himself from his true nature by chasing the distractions of the mundane path, the more he is prone to closing himself against the source of his own happiness, dismissing its mystery with nervous laughter as though it were an uncomfortable lull at a party. For there is a light hidden in the unexplored darkness, if only he knew how to reach for it.
It is usually not until he gets very old or threatened by death that he begins to yearn for the other path at the crossroads. When at last he is ill and the hour is late, he regrets not having danced a little closer to the edge of the abyss, not having lived more adventurously.
The silence inside you is the realm of magic. It is behind the doors of matter, within the gates of your mother's womb. It is the invisible land of your origin. Your sensory impressions of the room in which you sit reading, the very landscape in which you take your daily walk, cover it up like a membrane on some vast cosmic drum. The true nature of the human condition is kept from you, hiding itself maddeningly behind its own reverberating sounds, sights, and textures.
And the substance of that fluctuating membrane, the very medium of the deafening hum of the world, is the same as that of the sinew, skin, and bone of your body. Our throbbing biological processes are part of the vast web of life that encases a mystery.
The activities of that web overshadow the invisible depths of the inner world, like algae on the surface of still waters. And beneath the visible, an infinite mind broods like an abyss.
A cultural anthropologist, she lectures frequently at universities and other educational institutions. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from Llewellyn Publications, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. Llewellyn Worldwide Ltd. All mail addressed to the author is forwarded, but the publisher cannot, unless specifically instructed by the author, give out an address or phone number.
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