The Things I Learned From Chaos Magick.

Nothing is Real and Everything is Permitted. 

I am 14 years old, and kneeling at my altar. On it are effigies of Sekhmet and Anubis. At some point in time these spirits have presented themselves to me in dreams and visions - and for all I knew (or cared) the images they presented were wholly valid. I did not stop to run these spirits through the wringer and make them declare themselves to me. I did not test or argue with them. I accepted that the faces they gave to me were the faces they wanted me to see.

I went forward with the knowledge that at any point in time I could be proven wrong, and that the flexibility of my paradigm would allow for that without fundamental damage to it.  And for probably ten years the flexibility was never tested. And then one day I evoked "My Mother", and her face was hard, and her hair was not ringlets of black mane, but serpents. And a bolt went through my heart "This is a Gorgon, not a Kemetic goddess." And I looked to "My Father" - and I no longer saw a Jackal-headed man. I saw a man wearing a wolf-skin.

"Well, fuck" I said "Are y'all still okay with being called Sekhmet and Anubis... or... ?"

Being a pretty rigid polytheist, and a "spiritual impressionist" I don't personally get much traction or satisfaction from the idea that Sekhmet and the Gorgon are actually the same being, having divided itself thus. I don't much believe the being is -actually- a gorgon, either. But to explain that gets hairier by the minute.

What I get traction from is that when I began as a 'pagan' I was heavily into the Kemetic aesthetic, and that the spirits who wanted to contact me did so with those images to better establish contact (to later guide me to where they actually resided). Similarly, I do not get any traction from the idea that Sekhmet-who-is-Sekhmet sometimes appears as a Gorgon, but rather that maybe she is a busy being who sends her faithful spirits to intercede for her. Furthermore, I doubt very much that Not-Sekhmet is a gorgon. Currently I'm in a very Greco-Roman aesthetic, y'see. She is who and what she is, and unveils herself in the layers of a bloom - and I don't have any particular attachment, referring to her in epithets and actions rather than nailing her, or them, or it, down to a single image that is easily digestible.

It's also possible that Sekhmet was there, and then handed me off. A flexible worldview assists in there being no devastation. 

The Corollary

Everything is Real and Nothing is Permitted. 

If approaching Chaos as a "show me" mode, it is reprehensible to me to discard accumulated data in favor of an arbitrary paradigm shift. Or, rather "If a spirit proves itself to be real, it would be stupid of me to ignore it, mistreat it, or set it aside in the name of 'sticking to the program'... because this is Chaos magic, and there is no damnedable program."

It is from this ethos that springs my real, deep, dislike and anger toward people who treat The Art and The Craft as though it's Dungeons and Dragons 2nd edition. The struggle to grasp even a single thread in the tapestry of the spirit world is a serious one, and the effort devoted to it is very real. Discarding that, or pretending toward it strikes me as anathema (like burning books, painting an antique table with high-gloss latex house paint, or inviting yourself to a bite of my dinner).

To approach my niche in the world is like approaching a foreign kingdom. One travels through the villages of the smallfolk first - and one would do best to treat them as kings in their own land. And eventually, one meets the various regents and nobility. And perhaps, by that point, one has truly earned the right to be among them - to entreat or speak with them. And hopefully has learned to behave in a way that does not lead to beheading or imprisonment.

Because it's best to remember that even the most noble, altruistic, and righteous king has in his retinue some fellow or other that is hot tempered, slow to forgive, and carries a large, sharp, axe.