I talked about manifestation, now let’s tackle karma. This is one of those things that grind my gears about the spiritual community, largely because it unveils how derivative, unoriginal and moralistic it often is.
To understand this we need to remind ourselves of one of Nietzsche’s criticisms of his philosophical predecessors, who, according to him, were trying to safeguard religious morality even after doing away (overtly or covertly) with the concept of God.
This exact same thing happened to the spiritual community, which often reacts allergically to Christianity, yet seeks to safeguard the moralistic notion of hell (“if you do X you will be metaphysically punished”) by transfering its role to a vaguely defined “universe” whose task is, somehow, to uphold the believer’s social, political and spiritual views and punishing those who contravene them by causing bad things to happen to them.
Let us grant that this is somewhat of a misunderstanding of the original concept of karma found in some Eastern philosophies, even though it is not THAT much of a misunderstanding. The fact remains that, as used by most Western “alternative” thinkers (who somehow always end up believing the exact same crap), karma is just a lazy excuse for maintaining the holier-than-thou attitude they accuse traditional religion of: hey, enough with the badly understood Christian superstition! Time for the badly understood Oriental superstition!
Except that at least traditional religion has something grandiose and awe-inspiring about it (some passages from the Bible could be turned into a cool metal opera). The alternative spirituality of many girlypops has a way of pettifying everything: wow you left your girlfriend via message? That’s bad karma! What? You acted like a douche your whole life and suffered no consequences for it? That’s for another life then! If this is not the epitome of bitchy passive aggression I don’t know what is.
As many silly beliefs, this, too, has its glimmer of truth hidden in it. The Platonic myth of the soul, according to which our soul chooses what to incarnate as, offers much food for thought and meditation on the nature of our choices and how we must then live with the traces that those choices invite into our soul. There is no need to add metaphysical burdens on top of it.
I had a quick but interesting exchange of emails with a reader of this blog, and they asked me my perspective on the ethical side of prediction. One of the questions was if I share the belief that we shouldn’t answer questions that don’t directly relate to the querent and their actions, especially if they involve reading other people’s mind (e.g., “Is he thinking about his ex?”)
The Three Types of Diviners
First off we must recognize that, nowadays, there are many diviners who do not even think that prediction is possible. Then there’s those who think it’s possible but not desirable. And then there’s those who think it’s both possible and perfectly legitimate. If you know me, you can guess which camp I belong to.
The one thing almost all diviners of almost all strands can agree on is that divination should leave the querent with more information than before the reading took place. It is the nature of the information that is controversial. Many (most, perhaps) contemporary diviners believe the information should be of a mystical/ethical nature and should guide the querent’s action rather than foretelling future events or things the querent has no control over, such as other people’s thoughts beliefs, which is seen as prying. The idea is that to do otherwise is to disempower the querent by putting the center of power outside of them.
To which I say: We are not discrete atoms living each in its own self-made, self-referential reality, no matter what the manifesting girly-pops on Tiktok say. The center of power is not within us, at least not in the sense that most people think.1We exist enmeshed in an infinitely complex chain of actions and reactions, and our degree of control over them is objectively limited.
We seek to steer our life through the chaos of existence by levereging the information we have, including our knowledge of what (we think) other people’s beliefs and motivations are. In so far as divination gives us information and knowledge, it helps us increase the degree of control we have on our life (though this control can never be absolute). As such, it is perfectly legitimate to want to know what other people think.
The idea that we can only tell the querent what to do as a discrete, atomized individual is faulty for a variety of reasons. As said, the first reason is that we are not atoms. Only first world people with first world problems can seriously believe such postmodern crap (try to go to a starving child in a war zone and tell him he just needs to manifest harder). In reality, how other people think and act has very much to do with how the querent will or can behave, and so the querent’s expectation of being told such information is understandable.
The Two Should’s
The second important reason is that the idea itself that there is an objective cosmic measure of how we should act which the diviner must relay to the querent is silly. How people should act is between them and their god, and diviners are well advised to stay out of it instead of trying to play the role of ruler-wielding metaphysical pep-talkers (whenever you find someone who acts like this, run! Those who can live their life, do. Those who can’t, become life coaches.)
The word “should” has two different meanings: technical (“you should take the bus now if you want to get there on time”) and moral (“you should think about those less fortunate than you”). In the first sense, divination has some use, but only in the sense that the diviner, after assessing the situation as it emerges from the cards or chart, and taking what the querent hopes to achieve into consideration, gives them advice (I’ve talked about this here). In this sense, knowing what someone else thinks can be valuable (“he is not thinking about you and he won’t for the foreseeable future. Maybe you should start thinking about putting yourself back on the market”).
From a moral standpoint, divination’s use is very limited and it can become a dangerous tool of delusion or deceit. Example: “Should I have an abortion?” there is absolutely no way of answering that question. Some quick research online will show that there are all kinds of stances on abortion, ranging from believing it should never be had even if it means the woman will lose her life to believing it’s a moral duty of every woman to have one to stick it to the system, with a variety of more moderate solutions in between.
Since there is no consensus, such question essentially translates to “what is your stance on abortion?” Why you should regulate your life based on the personal moral beliefs of someone shuffling pretty cards on the internet is a question the answer to which is probably found somewhere in California.
“But isn’t divination a form of communion with the divine? Shouldn’t the divine know what’s right?”
Divination is most definitely a form of communion with the divine, but the idea that God has any kind of moral preference is, as far as I am concerned, questionable. People tend to patch their idea of God together from their moral and political prejudices. Somehow the God of the reactionary is always a hillbilly and the God of the revolutionary is always a hippy.
Divination lets us partake of a small share knowledge that one would usually get only if he were God, but this knowledge is very practical and is a tight condensation of that which happens, has happened or will happen in real life: Dante, in describing God, imagines it almost as a compressed version of all that happens in the created world, apprehended in the single blink of an eye.
The above doesn’t mean that it is always wise to answer any question the querent puts to us. “Is he thinking about someone else?” can be two very different questions depending on whether it is being asked by a person looking for closure or by a crazed monomaniac bombarding the diviner with the same query over and over. That divination tends to attract a less conservative clientele is not an earth-shattering revelation, so we do need to exert caution in choosing the questions we are comfortable answering.
Caring For Others
My one guiding principle is that divination implies care for another human being. But what does ‘care’ mean here? Does it mean caring for their ‘evolution’?
Well, no. First off, I think it is very questionable that the concept of evolution should be applied to spirituality. It is generally brought up to make pseudospiritual gibberish sound scientific–it’s a trend that dates back to the XIX century–yet those who use it end up employing a concept of evolution that is more Lamarckian (the giraffe stretches its neck to reach the leaf, thus evolving) than Darwinian (the giraffe born with the shorter neck simply starves, thus ridding the gene pool of its inadequacy, and can do nothing about it), and therefore completely unscientific.
Secondly, again, who am I to tell the querent what the next step in their evolution is supposed to be, especially since there is no consensus on objective standards? Divination can point out shortcomings in the querent’s behavior, but not in a moralistic sense. The cards, for instance, can say, “he left you because you tend to spread your legs more than a ballet dancer” but that’s a mere explanation of the causality behind an objective situation: Y derives from X. The cards are no bead-clutching confessor and I don’t aspire to be one either.
For me caring for another human being means seeing them in their struggle to reach their goals and offering them a bit of additional information that they are at liberty of using or leaving. The main question I ask myself when asked to do a spread is: am I offering information? In the example above of “Is he thinking about someone else?” the person looking for closure is asking for information, while the monomaniac isn’t. It is that simple.
I will certainly talk more about the issue in the future, but I think so far the main point is that divination is a tool for intelligence-gathering. As long as it offers intelligence it is a form of communion with the divine. If it doesn’t, it reinforces destructive trends and is best avoided, but this depends less on the question and more on the querent’s attitude.
MQS
From a philosophical standpoint I can accept the idea that the ultimate reality resides wholly within me, but if we accept this, then it is present just as much inside everything else, including in the people and situations that make my life miserable. ↩︎
Danielle Johnson‘s posts on social media were like those of most popular astrology influencers: cheap mystical drivel devoid of any serious study and insight, constantly hyping up the next big astrological nothing-burger. I’ve known enough people like her in my life to know that this kind of fraudster is the worst exactly because they tend to buy the crap they peddle. Like many cult leaders, they become pleasantly accustomed to the smell of their own farts.
I am not going to examine her tragedy as a whole. You can look it up yourself if you want. Suffice to say that she ended her boyfriend’s and child’s lives, as well as her own. All because of an eclipse she thought was “the epitome of spiritual warfare” where people needed “to pick a side” in the upcoming apocalypse.
For sure there is enough going wrong in the world at present that new millenarian movements pop up from all religious and political directions. Furthermore, it is not unlikely that Johnson suffered from some kind of mental condition.
But there is more to this type of behavior. No one who seriously studies history can believe there was ever a golden age where nothing went wrong, nor there ever will be. These are the dangers of utopianism as opposed to pragmatism: in the name of something that was or will be, the utopian believer feels justified in trampling over others, either rationally (like the left-wing and right-wing dictators of yore) or psychotically.
But, again, there is more. There is a widespread malaise in the “spiritual” milieu at present, in spite of its ever growing popularity on social media. This malaise is the culmination of a historical process of decoupling of reason and spirituality. I have already touched upon this issue elsewhere.
Since official science embraced meterialism in the late XVIII century, those who believe there is more to life have found themselves without an intellectual foundation for their beliefs, and have therefore become prone to accepting any delusion as fact. This is relatively unprecedented in the history of humanity. Not that knowledge and spirituality have otherwise always enjoyed a frictionless relationship, but there had never been so stark and unanimous a rejection of the spiritual in the scientific community.
How the spiritual community tried to cope with this abandonment is paradigmatic. If you read many XVIII and early XIX century occultists, you will often find desperate attempts at fitting their ideas into the tight dress of the new scientific language. Spiritualism and vitalism, which is how occultism survived until around the 1960s are, in many ways, the evil twins of scientific materialism: they are groundless irrationalism masquerading as legitimate scientific concepts (electromagnetism, mesmerism, ‘energy’, etc.)
Yet, for all their attempts at sounding scientific, these authors have never managed to convince anyone who wasn’t already convinced. Furthermore, their attempts at proving, for instance, that this or that scientific discovery is foreshadowed in this or that spiritual doctrine made them look like asses when said discoveries were later disproved and replaced with better scientific theories–because, and this is something many occultists failed to understand, science in the modern sense ceased dealing with the eternally true in favor of ever-improving approximations of what’s likely to be the case. This is what makes modern science effective, but also what ‘spiritual seekers’ desperate for answers don’t want to hear.
Then along rolled the New Age, and the already washed-out spiritual movement started supplementing its diet with saccarine platitudes and politically correct, ill-digested mish-mashes of doctrines coming from all over the world washed down with copious drafts of unproved psychology. Any attempt at using reason became futile, or even frowned upon as a non-enlightened stance. And this is where we are now.
The medieval and Renaissance magus was as much an occultist and diviner as he was a doctor, a scientist, a philosopher, a political strategist, a war counsellor and many, many more things. In Ancient Greece, many great magi were also great philosophers and scientists (Empedocles and Pythagoras come to mind). Apparently, the contemporary spiritual guru just needs a couple of self-help concepts with a spirituar flair and he is qualitifed to tell people they need to “pick a side in the upcoming apocalypse”.
So, what is the solution? I do not know. I do not believe I have one, especially not at the collective level. All I know is that irrationalism is not the blood that sustains spirituality. it is merely the electric shock that makes its corpse convulse and appear to be alive. I also know that the future of occultism, magic and spirituality lies with few individuals who are capable of using their head rather than with desperate masses of unhinged spiritual seekers (“unhinged” because their life hinges on nothing) who let any “astrology influencer” peddle cheap illusions to them.
The founder of BOTA, Paul Foster Case, proudly started his short book “Oracle of the Tarot” with the assertion that Tarot divination is not fortune-telling. The reason, he explains, is that fortune-telling is grounded in the belief in luck, chance or fate, while divination understands that everything is about our personality. The same statement is found at the beginning of the advanced BOTA course on tarot divination (Oracle of Tarot, without the ‘the’). Ann Davies clearly had a hand in rewriting it, considering how verbose the course is, but the substance was similar.
Paul Case was tapping into the spirit of the times when he made that statement. Since Tarot had the (mis)fortune of attracting the attention of XVIII and XIX century occultists, it hasn’t enjoyed a moment of peace: everyone wants to believe it to be not an obvious masterpiece of Renaissance art and Medieval philosophy, but an occult device made to transmit mystical knowledge unknown to most people (even though most people prior to the Enlightenment and the French revolution would have been able to tell you what the Tarot was about).
The same has happened to Astrology. Once a practical art for foretelling the ups and downs of actual life, it became the victim of the occult intelligentsia of the last couple of centuries and was turned into a hodgepodge of pseudomysticism, ill-digested psychoanalytic concepts and “it’s true if you believe it” New Thought crap.1
But this is not the whole story. If one takes the time to study, say, the Golden Dawn system, one quickly finds out that their traditional way of reading the Tarot is grounded in fortune-telling (just read MacGregor Mathers’ example of the Opening of the Key spread). Even the BOTA system, which derives from it, preserves very concrete meanings to be strung together into sentences, despite Ann Davies’ attempt to turn divination into a form of Kabbalistic meditation.
In other words, the occultist attempt at reappropriating the Tarotand Astrology (which in part continues to this day with some bogus theories about the so-called Tarot of Marseille, but more on this in another post) is only partly responsible for the divination/fortune-telling dichotomy. Much of contemporary occultism is grounded in the psychoanalyzation of magic and spirituality, which, in turn, is a defense mechanism against the death of the classical spiritual worldview. Yet, for all its shortcomings, it at least preserves some core tenets of the magical worldview.
But the problem with this is that while it does preseve in some ways the roots of the worldview in which divination can flourish, it has lost the intellectual basis for defending it. Intellectually speaking, even today occultism is largely stuck in the pre-WWII era, with its myths of scientific positivism, of constant historical progress and of magic as misunderstood technology (while I would argue the opposite, namely that technology is misunderstood magic).
Essentially, what has gone lost is the philosophical framework that allows us to keep together divination as spiritual practice and divination as uttering of concrete, verifiable truths.2 That’s largely because spirituality, in the post-XVIII-century Western world, was only allowed to survive as private indulgence in irrational behavior, a weakness to be tolerated.
Thus the split was born: 1) on one hand divination: a ‘serious’, and therefore unverifiable endeavor, a tool for vague self-reflection, cheap catharsis and shallow instagrammable aha moments. In other words, something that the small judgmental scientist constantly perched on most people’s shoulder could smile upon as at least benign, if not really true; 2) on the other hand fortune-telling: a crass or quaint superstition that is just a scam when it gets things wrong and just a coincidence when it gets them right. The little scientist can be free to frown on it. In other words, the distinction was born out of the guilty conscience of “spiritual” people, i.e., out of their subconscious scientism, as a way of telling themselves and society “I indulge in this silliness, but I am just quirky, not stupid.”
The occultists of yore were at least intelligent men and women who actually had something to say. They may have worked in an intellectually hostile environment, but they at least gave it their best shot, and for this they deserve leniency. What happened next is worse: that the already battered art of divination fell into the hands of stoned hippies and people with degrees in the most useless branches of socially acceptable knowledge. Then along came the Liz Greene’s and the Rachel Pollack’s (to make just two examples) who destroyed Astrology and Tarot even further. From then on it could only go in one direction: past life readings, divine feminine, empty motivationalism and strategizing, healing of generational traumas and all the attendant nonsense.3
Interestingly, the more contemporary divination’s fake husk rots, the more one needs to be intellectually dead to practice it, the more it becomes reintegrated in the higher spheres of society. I believe I already talked about a friend of mine who works for Google and has to endure meaningless meetings with tarot readers and astrologers because her boss is the manifestation-obsessed boss babe type. Nor are tarot readers a rarity in corporate America. This probably says something about how brain-damaged this kind of environments is. The nicest thing we can say about this part of society and this strand of divination is that they deserve each other.
MQS
This is not to say that Astrology or divination were unanimously accepted, but the debate was much more complex. ↩︎
This, by the way, is not a call to “go back” to some long lost good old times. I am no reactionary. Nor am I a progressive. I am a realist. ↩︎
By which, of course, I do not mean that there is not a feminine side of the divine, nor that trauma cannot be a real thing. I only mean that these words correspond to nothing but the most vapid pseudointellectual nonsense when coming out of most people’s mouths nowadays. ↩︎
