I listed to a podcast interview in which a couple of the questions were so good that in the response more than the answer was heard.

There was a brief silence from the interviewee. Then a summoning of energy, with a faint sense of bluster, but expressed in a way that felt intended to create a misdirection. It was as if, rather than a considered response, which is what they seemed they wanted to convey, actually they were pushing back.

It was the unmistakable sound of desperation.

Maybe there is a special variety of desperation in occultism, arising when someone wants to espouse a principle or idea, but they lack the genuine experience required to actually see things that way. It is this metaphysical desperation – a wish for a truth that experience has failed to provide – which is my focus here. Of course, a material solution is often the best response to desperation of other kinds.

So much of therapy is being with the client’s need for things to be otherwise, and so much of magick is about accepting in ourselves this same wish for things to be other than what they are. Desperation is the mother of both therapy and magick. No one comes to either when satisfied with the conditions of existence. Yet neither therapy nor magick necessarily changes those conditions.

After all my years of magickal practice, this is how I describe the way things are:

  • God does not exist.
  • Spirits do not exist.
  • There is no continuation of consciousness after death.
  • Magick does not work.

Given the subject of this blog, this might sound surprising, but the secular materialist and I inhabit the very same world and she is perfectly intelligent, so I do not question her description. After all, she has plenty of evidence.

The magician deviates in the understanding of this shared reality. The difference is evoked perfectly by William Blake:

I assert for myself that I do not behold the outward creation, and that to me it is hindrance and not action. “What!” it will be questioned, “when the sun rises, do you not see a round disc of fire, somewhat like a guinea?” Oh! no! no! I see an innumerable company of the heavenly host, crying, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty!” I question not my corporeal eye, any more than I would question a window concerning a sight. I look through it, and not with it. (Gilchrist 1863: ii)

For Blake, material reality is a view through a window. Both the window and the vista have materiality, but not the perspective from which we look, which is defined by a point in space rather than by what occupies that space. It is understandable why the window and the perspective might be confused with one another, but a key difference between them lies in how the perspective includes the window. Because from it we can see the window, the perspective is not limited or defined by the window – “I look through it, and not with it”, as Blake says.

William Blake, “Newton” (c. 1805). A depiction of the arch-materialist, hunched over at the base of the abyss, gaze turned downwards and intention focused on the specifics of measurement.

God, spirits, the dead, and magick cannot be seen through the window because they truly are not there. They have no material reality, no existence whatsoever. But not only is the window a metaphor, so is the perspective: it is only analogous to a point from which a person looks; it is not literally that. As the window and the vista are to the physical senses and material reality, so the perspective through the window is to a non-sensory awareness that can take the physical senses as its object. We “look at” and “see” beyond our senses on this level of awareness, and by this means what has no material reality becomes apparent. We “see” it not with the physical senses but with our understanding.

Blake’s analogy
HIGHER Physical Senses Material Reality Non-Sensory Awareness
LOWER Window Vista Perspective

The text of the Nineteenth Enochian Key, revealed to John Dee and Edward Kelley in 1584 by the angel Nalvage, laments the divided, multiplicitous, and cruel nature of material reality. It is a hymn of total desperation, but it ends with an exhortation for delivery from confusion through understanding:

[T]he Earth let her be gouerned by her parts and let there be diuision in her, that the glory of hir may be allwayes drunken and vexed in it self […] One while let her be known and an other while a stranger: bycause she is the bed of a Harlot, and the dwelling place of Him that is Faln. […] Open the Mysteries of your Creation: and make vs partakers of Vndefyled Knowledg. (Maa-kheru 2020)

The knowledge is “undefiled” because it does not come through the senses and does not pertain to material reality. To know material reality is inevitably a struggle with confusion and division, entailing (not least) a brutal but methodologically necessary separation between the knower and the known. What Blake and Nalvage are pointing to is a non-sensory form of knowing that instead of coming by the laborious and problematic route of the senses presents itself directly to the understanding.

It offers an end to the desperation of wishing things were otherwise. Material reality is precisely as the materialists describe it: devoid of God and spirit; constrained by causality and the limitations of organic matter. It is idiocy both to assert that spirit could be perceptible or measurable in matter (because this is impossible) and to seek to prove that spirit is nowhere to be found (because this is obvious).

Do I experience desperation?

Yes. All of the time.

It functions as a precious signal when we are seeking a false solution.


Gilchrist, Alexander (1863). The Life of William Blake. Mineola, NY: Dover, 2012.

Maa-kheru, ed. (2020). The forty-eight calls or keys. ( Accessed October 2020.