Redacted: Nasty events, frustrated dealings with family members, etc.....
[As I write this, in Steamers, the local middle aged drunk sits across the table from me, head in hands, feeling the pains of too much booze, assuming a pose and persona I have lived once or twice]
On my evening walk, I was musing over Thelema and why it has attracted me since I first heard of it, over 20 years ago. No answer to that, but another line of thought emerged. I realized that I was tending to think of it as a "Religion". As such, any action regarding Thelema would be in the manner of other Religions where devotion is for the sake of the religion (treating it as an end unto itself, as a nearly incarnate entity), not for the sake of the worshiper. But with Thelema, taken as it should be, it is all about the worshiper. Call him a "practitioner" instead. Seen in that light, the only god IS man. And the whole point of each ritual, each devotion and each action is rightfully ME. Me, me, me, me, me. This may have to be meditated upon then expressed in more full and eloquent terms.
So if Thelema, and my whole reason for acting and being, is all ME centered, what is the profit to be found in helping others? If they have no connection to me, then none. But if connected to me, then some attention must be given. To keep them from becoming a drag on me. To cultivate them for what might be needed later. In rare instances because they are "Brothers"…as brothers fight ye. In still rarer instances, because there is a synergy where Wills are aligned and the disparate efforts and attentions combine to a result greater than the sum of parts.
On the topic of Liber Resh: It is not so much to praise the gods (at least not as external powers) but to guide the aspirant and enflame in the prayer of self. For example: "…even unto thee who art Ra in thy Strength…" What better way to begin the day than to praise and, by extension, invoke Strength. And at the middle of the day, when in the midst of the days labors? Triumphing and Beauty. Then to the evening, with the labors of the day completed: "even unto thee who art Tum on thy Joy". And finally, in the hours of repose...Silence and Hiding. Works for me.
Then there was the night I got drunk, found a "Magic Marker" and started re-labeling shit in the house. What is a Drunk sexually frustrated middle aged man supposed to do when confronted with a label that says "Extra Virgin Olive Oil"??????