The Cosmos According to Aleister Crowley: Love is Not Unconditional
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Recently I was asked to specifically name what I’ve often alluded to as the “half-dozen nuggets of pure metaphysical brilliance” in Aleister Crowley’s Book of the Law (the founding text for the religion of Thelema and a fundamental source for the Book of Thoth and the Thoth tarot), as opposed to the rest of the content, which I consider to be “euphoric faux-Egyptian window-dressing.” I gave the following answer (slightly edited):
In no particular order: “Every man and woman is a star;” “Love is the Law, Love under Will;” “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law;” “Thou hast no right but to do thy will. Do that and no other shall say nay;” (none of which grants a license to do whatever we please regardless of injury to others); “For True Will, unassuaged of purpose and delivered from the lust of result, is every way perfect;” capped with the affirmation “The Law is for all.”
The impression I get from this moral code is that properly cultivating the True Will is no mean feat, it’s a rare privilege with no promise of reward and an obligation not to be taken lightly. I strikes me as a blueprint for unswerving self-discipline that operates apart from the imposed constraints of social mores. See my previous essay on Crowley’s canon for a more thorough analysis:
https://parsifalswheeldivination.wordpress.com/2017/08/24/wilt-or-want-that-is-the-question/
Here I want to explore my understanding of the phrase “Love under Will.”
The conventional view of love fostered by religions far and wide (except for the “fire-and-brimstone’” clergyman who wrote the sermon advocating “Chastise them according to their desserts” as words to live by) is that it is a selfless act of altruism as well as an outgrowth of the “Golden Rule.” Crowley, on the other hand, viewed it as an implicit consequence of living up to one’s “True Will,” which has nothing to do with what we want to happen but rather what must happen if we are to fulfill our personal destiny and take our rightful place in the world regardless of those who would “say nay.” By doing so we get a nod of approval from the Universe. We can no more escape our True Will than a leopard can change its spots, but that doesn’t mean we can’t misconstrue its purpose or defeat it at every turn by acting out-of-step with its tenets. Nor is it exactly “self-love”that is conjured up by the vision of “Love under Will;” it strikes me more as “duty to self” since Crowley also observed that “every act is an act of Will.” The bit about “unassuaged of purpose and delivered from the lust of result” clearly takes it out of the realm of wanton self-gratification.
This True Will stuff is serious business. It is predicated on the observation that “Every man and woman is a star;” that is, we each have a personal trajectory that is unlike that of anyone else. (Crowley makes the point elsewhere that no two solid objects — or people — can occupy exactly the same spot on the planet at precisely the same instant in time.) Thus, if we are to adequately manifest our True Will, we can only act out of our own awareness of this unique state of individuality. We could see it as a metaphysical “calling” for which we are the only qualified candidate. The fact that someone else might benefit from our self-realization isn’t part of the script, it’s just an ad-libbed “aside.” We have confirmed “accommodations for one,” and can choose whether we want to bring anyone else along but they have no legitimate claim on our hospitality unless we so “will” it.
I’m not a true believer in unconditional love of the Christian kind; I think it must be earned and deserved, and that we should get only as good as we give in upholding its sanctity. By the same token, if we don’t need much stroking we shouldn’t feel compelled to offer it. I’m not going to make a show of something I don’t feel in a quest for social approbation. My goal is to be respected first (not feared, mind you, although there are some who say they would never want to start an argument with me) and loved second, but only to the extent that I show myself worthy of it. (In other words, I’m not a con-man.) Mostly I just want to be left alone since I’m comfortable in my own skin and don’t have anything to prove. I do like to help people in an arm’s length way and don’t expect reciprocation, but I don’t respond well to a perceived mandate to do so in every situation. Goodness of heart is one thing, but prescribed “do-gooding” is something else entirely; for me it falls into “gimme a break” territory.
Although I reject orthodox religion of any stripe as being too restrictive in its conformist mentality (Crowley also said “The name of Sin is Restriction,” most likely a jab at his strict religious upbringing), I’m much more attuned to the spirit of the “eight words” couplet of the Wiccan Rede attributed to Doreen Valiente in 1964 (“An it harm none, do what ye will”) or the Gardnerian “Charge of the Goddess” (“Keep pure your highest ideal, strive ever towards it; let naught stop you or turn you aside, for mine is the secret door which opens upon the door of youth”), a long-winded, decidedly mystical way of saying roughly the same thing as Valiente’s couplet and Crowley’s “True Will.” The Rede has a fascinating history that can be traced back reliably no further than 1901, although it seems to have roots in English philosopher John Stuart Mill’s 19th-Century “harm principle,” which he apparently believed was the only justifiable basis for a code of ethics enforced by law.
I’ll close with a thought from Ethan Indigo Smith’s Tao of Thoth: If you don’t “strive to be you” in the purest sense, you will become “whatever else it is you do,” implying the distraction of idle “busywork” to the detriment of the dedicated “inner work” of self-development. Now that’s a concept I can sink my teeth into!
Originally published at http://parsifalswheeldivination.wordpress.com on October 12, 2024.
