I had a working trip around Scotland last month, which gave me the opportunity to visit two important sites in occult history, Boleskine House and the Findhorn Gardens. I will blog about the Findhorn Gardens using notes from my Book of Shadows (BoS) next time :)
For now, let me tell you about Boleskine House!
In case you've never heard of it, Boleskine House is on the South coast of Loch Ness. It is of particular significance to Thelemites because Aleicester Crowley lived there for a spell (ho ho) while he undertook the first six months of the Abramelin rite. (EDIT 02.02.16: More about Abramelin on the excellent Ultraculture blog.) He eventually got fed up and left before completing it, but reported that enough paranormal phenomena occurred as the result of his activities for him to feel that the project had nevertheless been a success.
Crowley had French windows installed in this room, where he did his indoor workings.
Today, Thelemites traditionally face in the direction of Boleskine House when performing rituals, rather like the magickal version of Mecca. It was exciting to see it in the flesh and imagine how many people around the world might be facing me and casting spells as I sneaked around! NB: It is private property and not open to the public at all.
The view from the patio where Crowley did the outdoor portion of his workings, just as he must have seen it, minus that wooden verandah, over which one can just catch a glimpse of Loch Ness.
Opposite Boleskine House is Boleskine Burial Ground, right on the shores of Loch Ness. According to legend, a secret haunted tunnel once ran between the Burial Ground and the House, but it has never been discovered.
I had been reading a little about Vodou and thought this would be the perfect place to collect a little grave dirt. I couldn't decide which would be the best grave to pick so I tried to find the oldest one. After wandering around in circles for what seemed like ages, I just sat down on the grass in the bright sunshine and relaxed in the breeze coming off the loch. Then I shifted my gaze back to the graves and just allowed my mind to gently let go of forcing the scene to focus, and instead let it do what it wanted. The graves seemed to be moving around one that was standing still. When I approached it, I found it was indeed the oldest in the graveyard, I just hadn't spotted it before as it was surrounded by much newer graves. The shadow of its Celtic cross design fell on the ground like a bullseye, so I took some dirt from the centre of that.
The Mort House.
To wrap up my Boleskine day, I climbed through the window of the Mort House in the burial ground, as the door had been bricked up. Clearly, I was not the first! The Mort House dates from the times of grave robbers, when some lucky person had to sit with the corpse in the Mort House and guard it day and night until it was too rotten to be of interest to thieves, after which, it would be buried. There is an upstairs with a fireplace for the guard and a downstairs absolutely crawling with enormous spiders for the coffin. Today, it is clearly a little pilgrimage site for amateur occultists and stoners alike.
"DO WHAT THOU WILT"
The fireplace.
Just some of the graffiti.
Disappointingly, I didn't feel anything spooky, threatening or generally tingly either at the house or in the burial ground. What moved me was the great sense of wild, untouched power rolling in off the beautiful Loch Ness. I stood on the edge of it and imagined how Crowley must have felt when he stood in the same spot over a hundred years ago and decided that this was the best place on Earth to carry out his Great Work.
