The complete Ghost Flower Ritual is available for you.
Simply start by clicking the "Start the Ritual" button below. If you want to learn more about the background and my experiences with the ritual click the "More" button.
If you want to see before and after pictures of me -- and an explanation of some of the benefits of the ritual click "Before and After."
You don't need to know the background information to do the ritual, but if you take the time to prowl the Ghost Flower blog and all its links, you'll find a lot of magick.
What the ritual can do for you:
* Help with healing and trauma.
* Shower you with artistic and creative inspiration.
* Teach you magick.
* Help you overcome obstacles.
* Reveal latent knowledge and talents.
And lots more....
A Facebook friend of mine just had his life upset in some very serious ways. He made a post asking if it might be possible that he was under a magical curse of some kind. I'm sure we've all felt like this from time to time.
The good news is: it's easy to get rid of any curse or malevolent, "clinging" parasites or magickal energies that might be vibrating your way.
Here's what you do.
1) Get a small (white) candle, like a birthday candle or a chime candle.
2) Get a small bowl.
Go to a private place and take off all of your clothes. Rub the candle on your body, starting with your head and rolling toward your extremities. So, start at your head and roll the candle down toward your fingertips on one side, then the other.
For below the shoulders roll toward your feet.
Get every nook and cranny. Always roll away from your body toward an extremity. Once you've finished with your entire body, put on some fresh clothes.
Take the candle and slightly melt the butt end so it will stand up inside your small bowl. Once it's standing, put water in the bowl.
Burn the candle until it goes out. Watch the flame and the water to see signs of who (if anyone) is trying to harm you magically.
Now put the water in a small container and go somewhere away from your home. Dump the water out over your left shoulder.
Walk away and don't look back.
That's it. You're now free of any curses. Works best during a waning moon.
Me before the Ghost Flower Ritual.
Me after completing the Ghost Flower Ritual.
Prior to the ritual I hadn't written or published a poem since 2008. Since completing the ritual, I've published over a dozen poems in journals like California Quarterly, The Cape Rock, The Santa Clara Review, Plainsongs, and The MacGuffin, and I've written over 250 yet-to-be -published poems.
I've also launched a YouTube music channel with original music, finished (and posted) a number of essays on philosophy, perceptual psychology, and poetry.
I have two, possibly three, books scheduled to be published this year in 2022. All that while still carrying on a full-time freelance writing career and keeping about a dozen crazy hobbies afloat.
Of course, dramatic results take time. In my case, years, and they're still unfolding.
But even if all you do is experience the ritual itself, I believe you'll experience a sense of exaltation and peace that's all too rare in our world these days. And if you choose to follow the spirits and angels you meet along the way further, there's literally no limit on what you can experience and achieve.
The next morning I could remember nothing, not even a letter, of the flower's name.
Later that afternoon, I went into my study, retrieved the wilted violet, and dumped it, unburned, into the garden. I half-hoped this would rid me of the shadow's presence.
A week or so passed before I found myself with a few moments to spare. I resumed my research into Yeats and came across a remarkable scholarly work entitled "W.B. Yeats and the Vegetable Phoenix." This fascinating study reviewed Yeats' Ghost Flower ritual from the point of view of palingenesis, an archaic, alchemical notion regarding the resurrection of a plant's spirit through arcane processes of distillation.
I soon came across the following lines: "Vallemont indeed warns that, ‘We must not expect a solid Body in this Apparition: ’tis only a Shadow; and if any one should rashly go about to touch this resuscitated Rose, it would fare with him as with the sacrilegious Ixion, who thinking to embrace Juno, found only a flitting Cloud, without any Consistency’." 1
This set my heart racing. Mann's dissertation on palingenesis reignited my determination to perform the full Ghost Flower ritual.
I'd seen the shadow that Vallemont spoke of. I'd forgotten it's name, but not its message. Something inside me still reeled with anger and shame at the shadow's warning against pornographic thoughts. I felt dirty, small, and in many ways pathetic.
That said, my heart soared with the beauty of synchronicity and the mystery of having seen such a wonderful thing.
I would burn another flower. This time I would take proper steps to do it right.
1. Mann, Neil. "W.B. Yeats and the Vegetable Phoenix." Yeats Annual 17, ed. W. Gould (Palgrave Macmillan, 2007), pp. 3–35.
But if this was true how were we to live? The answer was that nothing truly died! It just transferred from one vibratory state in the aether to another. This did not make it OK to eat animals or kill people; quite the contrary, it placed an utmost emphasis on intent. Responsibility came from intent and not action.
This is why an act like sex could be both hateful and loving; the same went for giving a gift or for sharing knowledge. Intent mattered more than action. An inversion of the usual way of thinking. One that, for me, quickly began to gain in appeal.
After this initial experience which lasted about three to five seconds, I had another lightning-bolt realization. Of course the ghost of the flower had appeared as a shadow! It was a violet and it lived in shade. It was communicating its essence.
The eerie shadow dissipated, but a strange blackness seemed to hang in the corner of the room and I was scared. Not only of the experience and the lingering darkness, but suddenly, I was afraid to fall asleep at all.
Falling asleep felt far too close to the kind of surrendering of ego-consciousness that took place at death. Fear built to the point where it seemed like an embryonic phobia. I had the terrifying thought that I might never want to sleep again.
I don't remember what happened next, precisely, but I fell into the most restful sleep I'd in years, and when I woke, the sun was shining all through my room.