The group mind of The Process was a special thing, and some of us feel its echoes still today. They are just echoes, though - the thing itself is so fragmented, or so forgotten, that it couldn't be reconstituted again, however much a few people have tried, or others are afraid it might be done.


Dion Fortune has an essay on the topic of the group mind, re-published in a collection called Applied Magic (Samuel Weiser Inc.) in 2000. She differentiates between the idea of a group soul, defined by her as "the raw material of mind-stuff out of which individual consciousness is differentiated by experience" and the group mind, which is "built up out of the contributions of many individualised consciousnesses concentrating upon the same idea." The Process encompassed both, since we identified with it deeply while also continually re-focusing our thoughts on its goals and teachings.


William Butler Yeats in his essay Ideas on Good and Evil wrote of ritual working with MacGregor and Moina Mathers, and of "..the power of many minds to become one, overpowering one another by spoken words and by unspoken thought till they have become one single, intense, unhesitating energy. One mind was doubtless the master, but all the minds gave a little." The Processean group mind was instigated and woven by Mary-Ann, ably assisted by Robert, and supported by a group of very bright and energetic people in their 20s who all gave a little - or a lot.


Those who endured the purgatorial experience of Xtul, on the north Yucatan coast, the first American experience in 1968 and the wanderings around western Europe in 1969 felt that sense of single, intense, unhesitating energy. I think those who, with me, joined during the big influx of 1970-71, had moments of something similar.


But we weren't magicians. A magician does his working and closes off, cleaning the astral slate, as it were, before resuming mundane activity. His everyday life goes on relatively unaffected by the collectivity.


The Process never let up. The accoutrements of ritual - use of our Processean names, special clothing, evocative language, the psychic intranet of the members, and reverence for the sacred sources of its energy - were always in place, even if ceremonial ritual per se was a very minor part of our lives. The only way to banish The Process from one's aura was to leave entirely, and take the fall into depression that such a loss of identity triggered. A number of people felt unable to make the definitive break, and returned after a period outside on their own.


"Each newcomer to the group," to quote Fortune on occult orders again, "enters into this potent atmosphere, and either accepts it, and is absorbed into the group, or rejects it, and is himself rejected. No member of a group with a strong atmosphere, group mind or Elemental (according to which term we prefer) is at liberty to think without bias upon the objects of group concentration and emotion. It is for this reason that reforms are so hard to bring about."


Notice the term "reforms". For most inner members, there was relatively little contravening of "the objects of group concentration and emotion" when the Process theology was junked and the less worked-out Jehovah-worship of The Foundation replaced it. The primary object of group concentration was Mary-Ann, and while she functioned as the queen of the hive with her chosen ones around her, the basics had not altered. Little or no "reform" occurred, nor ever would.


But this was what we chose. The group mind was supremely in-time, at least according to the rhythms it followed. Anyone who chose the 'Messenger line' and began working towards elevation to the core group found his or her attention gradually moving off the self, with less anguish over personal identity and security, and much greater attention being paid to the present. The sacrifice of independent identity yielded a sense of connection, and for some people it was - or still is - enough. For the rest of us, a conflict eventually arose, and something within us silently murmured "Lessons learned - time to go".


Those who did leave, during the 1974 Schism, or before that in my own case, felt the lack of inner nourishment the moment we walked out the door. A Processean who had been out for a few weeks or months was a pathetic creature, limping sadly along, hunting for something to fill the void. It took me nearly a year after leaving to feel I had the inner peace from which to draw support.


At the time, it seemed like a curse to be undergone, as it was. "Deem not too eagerly to catch the promises. Fear not to undergo the curses" says Liber AL (3:16). It took me many years, but one day I finally began to see my departure, as much as my joining, as an initiation. Initiation is a gateway to more, not less; but the 'more' may not be what we want until we finally grasp why we need it.