Intelligences of the Subtle Plane: Toward a Cosmological Reinterpretation of “Spirits” from John Dee, the Western Esoteric Tradition, and Their Reinterpretation within Seax-Wica
This study proposes a cosmological reinterpretation of the so-called “spirits” described in the Western esoteric tradition. Rather than assuming the categories of angels and demons as definitive theological ontologies, it argues that such names constitute cultural interface languages applied to real intelligences of the subtle plane. To support this hypothesis, three levels of analysis are integrated: first, an ontology of the expanded physical cosmos, in which the material plane and the subtle plane belong to the same universe; second, a historical-comparative reading of demonology, Enochian magic, Spiritism, and modern mediumship; and third, a formalization of the model within the cosmological framework of Seax-Wica, especially through the development of the discipline of Becoleap. It is argued that classical demonology may be reread as a symbolic technology of access; that the Enochian Aethyrs may be interpreted as structural regions of the subtle plane; and that the distinction between Qliphoth, astral larvae, egregores, and entities native to the other plane allows for a more coherent spiritual ecology than the simple opposition between angels and demons.
1. Introduction
The question of so-called “spirits” has, for centuries, been treated through theological, magical, philosophical, and folkloric languages that rarely enter into dialogue with one another. Within the Judeo-Christian framework, such entities were classified as angels or demons and absorbed into a moral ontology of good and evil. In Renaissance magic, by contrast, they were organized into catalogs, hierarchies, names, and seals. In nineteenth-century Spiritism and twentieth-century mediumistic literature, they reappeared as inhabitants of the invisible world, still linked to consciousness, death, and the continuity of being.
The central thesis of this study is that the so-called angels and demons are not, strictly speaking, supernatural theological entities, but rather cultural names given to real forms of intelligence belonging to a subtle plane of existence. Religious history is not annulled by this thesis; it is reread. Instead of treating religious categories as definitive ontologies, they are here understood as interface languages. Divine, angelic, or demonological names function less as essential descriptions than as contact keys, in much the same way that an address does not describe the nature of the one who answers, yet still makes communication possible.
This approach makes the case of John Dee and Edward Kelley especially important, since their spiritual actions constitute one of the most detailed records of visionary interaction with non-human intelligences in Western history. Before turning to that archive, however, it is necessary to establish the broader cosmological framework within which such a reinterpretation can be sustained.
2. Ontology of the Expanded Physical Cosmos
2.1. The Principle of a Single Physical Cosmos
The hypothesis advanced here begins from a strong principle: there are not two separate physical worlds, but a single cosmos that includes an observable material plane and a non-material or subtle plane. Both belong to the same universe, even if one is not directly perceptible to the human senses. On the physical level, this cosmos would be structured by the four fundamental interactions recognized by contemporary physics: gravity, electromagnetism, the strong nuclear interaction, and the weak nuclear interaction.
From this follows a decisive philosophical consequence: spiritual entities would not necessarily be “supernatural,” but forms of energetic or informational organization within the same expanded physical universe. This thesis does not claim to be deductively derived from physics, but it does employ some of its analogies in order to avoid a rigid split between nature and supernature.
2.2. Entropy, Negentropy, and Syntropy
Within this cosmos, processes of organization and disorganization are at work. Entropy represents the universal tendency toward dispersion, the degradation of structures, and thermal equilibrium. Negentropy, by contrast, represents processes of local organization, such as those characteristic of life, mind, and complex systems. Syntropy may here be understood as the convergent tendency toward forms of greater coherence and complexity, that is, toward structures capable of integrating order, meaning, and intelligence.
In this model, both living organisms and certain entities of the subtle plane would be negentropic systems: they resist dissolution by maintaining internal coherence. The vortex described later may be understood precisely as an entropic manifestation of the subtle plane, whereas the persistence of spirit and its possible evolution across planes would respond to negentropic and syntropic dynamics.
2.3. Archetypal Field, Egregore, and Cosmos
Above the expanded physical cosmos stands an archetypal field. In this scheme, archetypes do not belong to the physical cosmos; they constitute a metaphysical domain of pure forms of meaning. The egregore functions as an interface between that field and the cosmos: the collective mind structures an egregoric form that allows the archetype to be translated into symbolic matrices operative within the subtle plane.
The model may be summarized as follows:
THE ALL
↓
URCRÆFT
↓
DEMIURGES
↓
ARCHETYPAL FIELD
↓
EGREGORE
↓
PHYSICAL COSMOS
├─ material plane
└─ subtle plane
From this perspective, spirits would belong to the subtle physical cosmos; archetypes would not. Egregores would connect the two domains.
3. Spiritual Anthropology: Body, Soul, and Spirit
My spiritual anthropology is organized into three levels. The body belongs to the material plane and makes sensory and neurobiological experience possible. The soul contains memory, emotions, identity, and biographical personality. The spirit constitutes the deep vital force, the intellect of continuity, and the principle capable of reincarnation.
After death, the soul preserves memories and experiences, but the absence of the body limits the generation of new emotions. The spirit, by contrast, maintains the energetic and intellectual structure capable of sustaining continuity, ascent, or return. This distinction helps explain why post mortem survival should not be conceived as a mere psychological prolongation of the biographical self.
4. Limbo and the Ecology of the Subtle Plane
After death, the spirit enters an intermediate zone here called limbo. This is not the medieval theological limbo, but rather a transitional realm within the subtle plane, where human spirits, entities native to that plane, and parasitic forms converge. Limbo must be thought of as an ecosystem, not as a moral abstraction.
Within it operates the vortex, an entropic dynamic that absorbs the vital energy of spirits weakened or unable to sustain structural coherence. The vortex, however, does not affect beings born in that plane in the same manner, since they are adapted to its conditions. Moreover, it not only dissolves but also reorganizes spiritual energy and gives rise to new spirits eventually destined to incarnate wherever physical life emerges. Basic information does not disappear entirely, but may be retransmitted in elemental forms of instinct and intuition.
5. Qliphoth, Astral Larvae, and Egregores: Conceptual Distinctions
It is important to distinguish among several types of psychic or energetic structures that appear in different esoteric traditions and are often confused with one another. In Kabbalistic mysticism, the term Qliphoth—from the Hebrew qelippot, “shells” or “husks”—refers to the energetic residues that arose after the shattering of the vessels in the cosmogonic process described in Lurianic Kabbalah. These “shells” represent disorganized or distorted forms of spiritual energy separated from their original source. In later Western occultism, especially in the hermetic reinterpretations of the Golden Dawn, this concept came to be associated with the so-called astral shells, that is, empty energetic envelopes that may persist in the subtle plane as residual structures.
Astral larvae, by contrast, do not derive from cosmogonic processes but from human psychic activity. They are energetic condensations formed by intense and repeated emotions—such as fear, hatred, obsession, or trauma—that acquire a certain stability in the subtle plane. These forms lack a fully developed intelligence of their own and usually behave as energetic parasites. In ritual contexts, however, they may act as temporary shells capable of sustaining, for a brief period, the manifestation of other intelligences from the subtle plane.
Egregores, for their part, belong to a different category. Unlike astral larvae, they do not arise from disordered emotions but from the organized symbolic and ritual activity of a community. An egregore is a relatively stable collective psychic structure that arises when a group shares beliefs, symbols, narratives, and ritual practices over a prolonged period. This structure functions as an interface between human consciousness and certain archetypal patterns, providing symbolic coherence and spiritual continuity to religious or magical traditions.
From this perspective, while the Qliphoth represent structural residues of the cosmogonic process, astral larvae constitute emotional condensations generated by the human psyche, and egregores correspond to collective symbolic structures stabilized by ritual communities. This distinction makes it possible to understand more precisely the role of larval forms in practices such as Goetic magic, without confusing them either with religious egregores or with the cosmogonic residues described in the Kabbalistic tradition.
6. The Long Textual Formation of Demonology
Any reinterpretation of “demons” requires remembering that classical demonology did not arise all at once. The Ars Goetia, the opening section of the Lemegeton Clavicula Salomonis, is the result of a long process of textual sedimentation. Before the canon of the seventy-two demons was fixed in seventeenth-century England, several decisive antecedents existed: the Testament of Solomon between the first and third centuries; the Byzantine-Greek Hygromanteia between the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries; the Heptameron attributed to Pietro d’Abano in the fifteenth century; Johann Weyer’s Pseudomonarchia Daemonum in 1563; Reginald Scot’s English diffusion of these materials in 1584; and Guazzo’s Compendium Maleficarum in 1608.
Taken together, this development shows that the Goetia is not a pristine or purely ancient tradition, but a Christian-Renaissance elaboration that reorganizes Jewish, Greek, folkloric, and demonological materials. In many cases, ancient divinities or legitimate powers from other peoples were converted into demons once absorbed by the monotheistic imagination.
7. Demonology as a Symbolic Technology of Access
A demonological name, together with its seal and invocation, need not be understood as the very essence of an entity. It may instead be understood as a symbolic structure of resonance. In other words, the so-called “demon” of the grimoire may be less an ontologically fixed individual than a ritual form established by tradition in order to facilitate contact with intelligences of the subtle plane.
Within this framework, the name, sigil, and ritual conditions—such as the planetary day, symbolic correspondences, and the structure of evocation—act as a set of operative keys that make it possible to configure a ritual larval form. This form does not constitute an autonomous spirit in the full sense, but rather an energetic shell generated by the operator’s psychic activity, generally fed by the emotions, tensions, or “shadows” of the invoker.
In many modern practices of ceremonial magic—such as those developed in currents derived from the Golden Dawn or in contemporary traditions such as Dragon Rouge—the Goetic demon may be understood precisely as this kind of larval structure. The ritual organizes the symbolic conditions necessary for such a form to be temporarily stabilized within the subtle plane.
This interpretation finds an interesting parallel in the Kabbalistic tradition. In Jewish mysticism, the term Qliphoth designates the residues or energetic envelopes that arose from the shattering of the vessels in the process of creation. Originally, these “shells” did not represent individual demons, but empty or deformed structures containing remnants of spiritual energy separated from their source. In later Western occultism, especially in the hermetic reinterpretations developed by the Golden Dawn, this concept came to be associated with what were called astral shells, that is, empty energetic forms susceptible to temporary occupation by various intelligences of the subtle plane.
From this comparative perspective, the demons of the Goetia may be understood as ritual larval forms functioning analogously to these astral “shells.” The entity that eventually manifests need not be identical to the demonological figure described in the grimoire; rather, it may use the ritual form created by the operator as an interface of manifestation.
Thus, so long as the invoker maintains ritual concentration and the symbolic coherence of the process, the larval shell may sustain the presence of an intelligence from the subtle plane. When the ritual ends or the psychic structure dissolves, the manifestation loses stability and disappears.
From this perspective, demonology ceases to be a mere inventory of malignant entities and comes instead to be understood as a symbolic technology of access. The name functions as a resonance key, the sigil as a symbolic identifier, and the ritual as a mechanism for configuring the larval form that makes interaction with the subtle plane possible.
Consequently, the so-called Goetic demons need not necessarily be interpreted as preexisting and independent entities. Rather, the ritual system of the Goetia may be understood as a symbolic mechanism through which the operator configures larval interfaces capable of temporarily sustaining the manifestation of intelligences belonging to the subtle plane.
8. John Dee and the Cartography of the Subtle Plane
The spiritual archive of John Dee and Edward Kelley constitutes one of the most complex testimonies of ritual interaction with non-human intelligences in the Western tradition. Read strictly within a Christian key, this material could be understood as an extension of Renaissance angelology. Yet in light of the cosmological model proposed here, the records of A True and Faithful Relation may be reinterpreted as a phenomenological laboratory of contact with multiple intelligences of the subtle plane.
In these sessions, entities identified as Uriel, Raphael, Nalvage, and other angelological figures appear; nevertheless, their behavior is not homogeneous. Some instruct and correct; others transmit tables, keys, and structures; others mediate, limit, or channel information; and still others finally appear ambiguous, contradictory, or unstable. This diversity is better understood if it is interpreted not as a uniform angelological hierarchy, but as the manifestation of different types of intelligences within a stratified subtle space.
From this perspective, Dee’s archive admits a tripartite classification: instructive intelligences, intermediate or administrative entities, and problematic or parasitic entities. This typology is more flexible and more explanatory than the simple theological opposition between good angels and evil demons.
8.1. The Aethyrs as Regions of the Subtle Plane
The system of the thirty Aethyrs within the Enochian tradition may be interpreted as a hierarchical structure of regions of the subtle plane. Each Aethyr constitutes a region of perception, a symbolic field, and a domain of entities, accessible through states of consciousness and specific ritual keys. From the perspective proposed here, the Aethyrs may be understood as layers of the subtle plane organized according to different degrees of energetic coherence.
The levels closest to the human world would be more entropic and more mixed with embodied experience; the higher ones, by contrast, would be more negentropic and syntropic—that is, more organized and more coherent. In this context, the Enochian tables would function as symbolic maps, and the Calls as keys of access to those regions.
9. Kardec, Xavier, and Buckland as Comparative Witnesses
Kardec defined spirits as intelligent beings and maintained that mediumship is a faculty distributed among human beings. Xavier, in Nosso Lar, describes a spiritual colony with ministries, avenues, services, and hierarchies where the sick are cared for, requests are heard, and reincarnations are prepared. Buckland, for his part, contributes a decisive operative element: he defines the medium as someone “sensitive to the vibrations of level two; the spirit world” and maintains that, by adjusting one’s vibrations, “a bridge is established between the two worlds.”
He also presents spirit communication as a set of lessons and exercises aimed at developing mediumship as a latent human capacity. This idea reinforces the thesis that contact with the subtle plane depends on operative conditions of consciousness more than on theological adherence.
Thus, Dee contributes mathematical structure and keys of access; the Goetia contributes entities indexed by name and sigil; the Ars Notoria contributes cognitive access through figures and prayer; Kardec contributes a moral and phenomenological typology of spirits; Xavier contributes the social and institutional geography of the beyond; shamanism contributes transit between worlds; and Buckland contributes the psychic interface between human and spirit.
From all this, a remarkable structural convergence emerges. In all of these traditions, the spiritual plane appears as a stratified realm, with a diversity of entities, protocols of access, the active participation of human consciousness, and the operative use of symbolic geometry. For this reason, one may speak, cautiously yet firmly, of an ecology of intelligences within a vibrational informational domain. Within that domain, names would function as keys, sigils as identifiers, tables as maps, circles as boundaries of interaction, and human consciousness as the receiver, modulator, and translator of contact.
10. Seax-Wica and the Reinterpretation of the Subtle Plane
Within the cosmological development I have proposed for Seax-Wica, many of the entities described in different traditions may correspond to peoples or intelligences native to the subtle plane—that is, beings born and living in that level of reality who are not human spirits.
Within the Western religious tradition, many such intelligences were interpreted as angels or demons. Within the symbolic framework of Seax-Wica, by contrast, I prefer to use categories derived from the Norse tradition. Luminous or instructive intelligences are recognized as Ljósálfar, or Elves of Light. The denser or potentially problematic entities are interpreted as Dökkálfar, or Dark Elves. Between the two stand the Dvergar, who occupy an intermediate position and are linked to the earth, mountains, hills, and subterranean worlds.
These beings must not be confused with elementals in the classical sense of Renaissance magic. They are not mere manifestations of the natural elements, but spirits native to the subtle plane who form part of non-human civilizations.
11. Contemporary Phenomena and Experiences of Contact
This cosmology also makes it possible to approach certain contemporary phenomena with caution, such as testimonies of extraterrestrial abduction. Some accounts could alternatively be interpreted as experiences of interaction with intelligences of the subtle plane operating at a vibrational level different from that of the material world. The recurrent elements—sleep paralysis, lucid awareness combined with immobility, the presence of multiple entities, and the sensation of intervention upon body or mind—suggest, at the very least, a comparative analogy with liminal states of spiritual contact.
These are not conclusive affirmations, but rather interpretive hypotheses within an expanded cosmological framework.
.
12. Becoleap within the Cosmological Framework of Seax-Wica
In order to understand the place of Becoleap within Seax-Wica, it must be situated within the cosmological model developed in these essays. At the highest level stands The All; from it emanates Urcræft; from Urcræft arise the demiurgic principles; these structure the archetypal field; the egregore translates that field into operative symbolic matrices; and below them lies the expanded physical cosmos, composed of the material plane and the subtle plane.
Within this system, the Seax-Wiccan egregore—nourished by the cult of Woden and Frig—acts as an interface between the human plane and the archetypal forces it represents. Beneath this egregoric level lies the subtle plane, where human disincarnate spirits, entities native to that plane, and psychic forms generated by the human mind may all be distinguished.
In order to understand Becoleap properly within this framework, it is necessary to clarify a point that is often oversimplified in the literature on modern witchcraft. Raymond Buckland explicitly warned against the indiscriminate use of ceremonial magic aimed at conjuring entities, noting that many such practices involved unnecessary risks and that witchcraft did not need to resort to such methods in order to attain its religious or magical ends. In his explanation, he compares such procedures to plugging a small appliance into a thousand-volt power line when a simple battery would suffice. The warning therefore points to operative prudence and to the rejection of the coercive magic characteristic of certain medieval grimoires.
This caution, however, must not be confused with an absolute denial of the spiritual phenomenon or with a prohibition against studying the interaction between human consciousness and the subtle plane. Buckland himself devoted a significant portion of his work to the exploration of mediumship and spirit communication. In Buckland’s Book of Spirit Communications, he maintains that mediumship is not a miraculous gift reserved for a few individuals, but a human capacity that may be gradually developed through mental discipline, psychic sensitivity, and training. According to Buckland, the medium is simply a person capable of perceiving the vibrations of the “second level,” that is, of the spiritual plane, and when that sensitivity is properly adjusted, a bridge may be established between the physical world and that subtle level of existence.
This statement introduces a crucial distinction into the practice of modern witchcraft. On the one hand, Buckland discourages the use of coercive methods aimed at dominating entities. On the other hand, he recognizes that the perception of and communication with the spiritual plane form part of the latent capacities of the human being when developed with discipline, discernment, and psychological balance. In his approach, mediumship is not a form of magical domination, but a process of perceptual refinement requiring gradual training, self-control, and a clear capacity to distinguish between genuine psychic impressions, imagination, and autosuggestion.
From this perspective, the study of spiritual phenomena is not excluded from the practice of the Craft; it simply must be approached within an appropriate ethical, religious, and disciplinary framework.
It is precisely within that space that the development of Becoleap is situated within my own work in Seax-Wica. This development does not arise as a deviation from the tradition, but as a reflective extension of its principles in response to contemporary phenomena that the modern practitioner cannot entirely ignore. When I presented these ideas to Raymond Buckland in a correspondence exchange with him around 2015, Buckland responded positively to the proposal, describing the project as “a wonderful development” and “very worthwhile work.” This recognition suggests that a responsible exploration of these aspects may constitute a legitimate evolution within the open framework he himself envisioned for Seax-Wica.
This fact is significant for two reasons. First, it confirms that the Seax-Wica tradition was never conceived as a rigid or closed system, but rather as a religious practice open to the intellectual and spiritual development of its practitioners. Second, it suggests that the responsible study of phenomena of the subtle plane does not necessarily contradict the spirit of the Craft, provided that it remains within a framework of prudence, discernment, and religious coherence.
In this sense, Becoleap should not be understood as a reintroduction of classical ceremonial magic or as an attempt to reproduce medieval grimorial demonology. Its goal is not to conjure entities in order to obtain favors, nor to operate under the logic of magical coercion. Rather, it is an exploratory and protective discipline aimed at understanding the nature of certain spiritual or psychic phenomena that may arise within contemporary practice.
The starting point of Becoleap consists in recognizing that spiritual phenomena may manifest in diverse ways: from genuine mediumistic experiences to psychological projections, collective suggestion, or self-generated psychic forms, such as astral larvae or unstable symbolic configurations. In many cases, especially in modern contexts where symbolic practices circulate massively through social networks, improvised Ouija sessions, invocations without ritual context, or disordered psychic experimentation may generate intense psychological states and charged symbolic structures that open ambiguous channels toward the subtle plane.
In such situations, the principal problem is not the existence or non-existence of entities, but the absence of interpretive categories and adequate ritual tools for understanding what is taking place.
Becoleap is intended precisely to fill that void. Its function is not to encourage indiscriminate evocation, but to develop a discipline of discernment capable of differentiating among psychological phenomena, self-generated psychic forms, intense symbolic influences, and possible interactions with intelligences of the subtle plane. On the basis of that diagnosis, rites of purification, de-obsession, or restoration of psychic and spiritual balance may be articulated.
In this way, Becoleap may be understood as a liminal specialization within Seax-Wiccan practice, situated at the frontier between religion, mediumship, psychology, and esoteric cosmology. Its purpose is not to expand the field of magical power, but to strengthen the practitioner’s capacity to confront difficult situations without abandoning the religious framework of the Craft or falling into sensationalism or superstition.
Ultimately, this discipline responds to a pedagogical need. Preparing the practitioner does not mean inducing fear or obsession with darkness, but rather providing a conceptual and ritual language that enables one to recognize the limits of one’s practice and to act responsibly when those limits are challenged.
In this sense, Becoleap does not represent a rupture with Seax-Wica, but rather an internal development of its operative horizon, aimed at integrating the religious tradition of the Craft with a broader understanding of the dynamics between mind, symbol, and the subtle plane.
Conclusion
The so-called angels and demons of the Western tradition may be reinterpreted as real intelligences of the subtle plane, historically filtered through religious egregores and accessible through protocols of symbolic resonance. The experiences of John Dee constitute a privileged case for the study of this phenomenon. The phenomenology of Kardec, the spiritual sociology of Xavier, the ritual technology of the Goetia and the Ars Notoria, shamanic cartography, and Buckland’s practical approach do not describe identical doctrines, yet they do converge upon a remarkably coherent cosmological architecture.
Rather than isolated superstitions, they may be understood as historical fragments of a single human attempt to map and operate within a subtle domain—stratified and populated by multiple intelligences. The model proposed here does not constitute a scientific theory in the strong sense, but a philosophical-comparative synthesis. Its value lies not in offering experimental proof, but in coherently organizing dispersed historical and experiential materials. Even so, it retains interpretive fecundity because it explains better than classical demonology the coexistence of instructive, intermediate, and problematic intelligences, the need for ritual protocols, the influence of the operator’s moral and vibrational state, and the structural similarity among traditions that are historically distant from one another.
