Name: Mark A. Frazzetto
Current Path:  Left Hand\Norse\Ordeal
Studied Under:

Jack Armstrong (1987 – 1990) General Hermetics
Douglas Buchanan (1999 – 2004) Runes
Aglaian Triad (1999 – 2004) – altered states of consciouness
Temple of Terra Incognia (2011 to Present) Sex Magick, Path of the Ordeal
GLEE (2011 to Present) – Energy Work

At those times when I did not have an actual teacher\temple\group, I worked as a solitary.

My initiation:

Some years ago I was at a place that has many names. The Lakota call it Paha Sapa and the Anglo-Saxons call it the Black Hills. One night, while I was staying there, the Storm Gods came rushing forth out of their Sky Home. Their feet thundered, their spears flashed. Their immensity cannot be easily described. In those ancient mountains, before they ascended into the high heavens to begin their journey across this world, they were so much closer. One could feel their fury and their joy, their savage joy. In my little cabin I sat terrified, my bones seemed like they were turning to jelly. I thought that Night would never end.
It did, though, and the next day I emerged from the cabin. It was a beautiful, warm, August day. However, the fear of the previous night was still with me, in addition to what at that time was my untreated major depressive disorder. I felt shrunken, and my head was always facing down. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and not move. Somehow, I managed to make the trip scheduled for that day, a visit to the Crazy Horse memorial.
The Crazy Horse memorial is a magnificent edifice, indeed it is awe inspiring. Quite literally, an entire mountain is being carved into a semblance of this warrior. Its size is immense, it dwarfs Mount Rushmore. When I arrived at the viewing site, my head still always facing down, it seemed to command me. No, it demanded that I look up, look up at the enormous face which seemed to hold eternity in its gaze. So I did. The sky was a brilliant, perfect blue. The sun blazed so bright that it seemed that I had somehow shifted into a different world. Two great vultures flew around the great stone face’s brow. And then it happened.

My very soul seemed to explode. It pushed out at an every faster rat., I felt that, like some great serpent, I needed to shed my flesh and join my true folk, the Storm Gods, to feast in their halls, to destroy, to create, on a scale undreamed of by me or you. I burned, and oh, the pain was so exquisite, so filled with ecstasy. And then I heard the voice. It was a deceptively small, weak voice; it came from inside of me. It asked, “Do you deserve this?” I shrunk a little. “Are you not a small, weak, thing?” Still smaller. “Dependent on this prison called reality, without it will you not fall far and ever so hard?” I shriveled. And I did fall, and into the Abyss. And I screamed a silent scream, for I had been given a gift and turned it down.

So I have been trying to climb back out of the Abyss ever since.

You must be logged in to leave a reply.