There are times when I am writing about spiritual work in public, like here, or in private, in my journals, that I am troubled by what value it has. It seems like there is so much work that goes into the discussion and some of it is so peculiar, that it cannot have any real purpose outside of occupying my thoughts. The speculations about the coil of life, or the giants, or the daemons, can all sound very abstract, especially after the fact. They do have a practical value, of course, in directing my thoughts and actions during spiritual work and in laying the groundwork for talking to others about it, but it seems like that practical value does not quite merit the effort of contemplation that goes into them.
But when I think on that more deeply, I realize it goes well beyond a concern with ritual practice and attempts to describe a cosmos through which I might be able to communicate with other practitioners. What I do when I contemplate the nature of the cosmos is form abstract cosmograms and those cosmograms have an efficacy in and of themselves as subtle magical symbols. The most abstract and arcane elements of occult practice have a talismanic significance, transforming your psyche into a kind of talisman. That psyche catalyzes the soul that encompasses it.
The work of contemplation operates at the level of air, providing a surface along which the material and spiritual pass back and forth into each other. The words passing to spirit loosen their ties to the world of affairs while those passing toward the material world become increasingly entangled with them. Truth on the one side, facts on the other, in constant comingling. Finding the proper balance, so that thought may turn easily from one to other, forms a great spiritual challenges for us in life.
With spiritual work, we make ourselves a talisman. What is so made does not pass entirely away, remaining for those that follow to take up and work. The arcane speculation becomes a kind of circuit and instruction set for working the talisman you become.