The Virtues of the Stars Building a Monastic Code

Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law.

There was a time when I began examining several fairly intense principles in search of an ascetic approach to Thelema. That ultimately softened and turned toward a more cenobitic-inclined study in the pursuit of a ‘what if’ scenario for a Thelemic Abbey without all the nonsense of Cefalù in Sicily or the fantasy of Rabelais.

I’ve offered you my ideas on the moral qualities of a King. I don’t think these contradict my earlier thoughts, but work alongside them (though these were conceived earlier, so Kingship is the tagalong if we’re going to be honest here).

An Abbey must have a Rule for those who are predisposed to live within its confines. I’ve said as much in the past, Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law is a fine summary of the Law, but it is incomplete as an understanding of the fullness of the Law.¹So there is no misunderstanding with what I’m saying: without a doubt I would argue along with many others that “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law” is a central tenet of the Law of Thelema. I am not convinced that it is a foundational premise or basic axiom of Thelema. I believe it to be a corollary (or, more properly, a summary) of the principles concisely laid out in the Book of the Law. It would be like saying, “Whatever you want men to do to you, do also to them is the whole of the Jewish Law.” It is certainly truthful; but it is an oversimplification while remaining an excellent mnemonic device for those that don’t want or need to spend a great deal of time wading through the rest of the muck of theory and philosophy. Liber Oz is puerile at best and a manifesto for extremists at worst. However, I wanted to determine something that encapsulates the Law as a Rule of Living, an ethos, both as an individual and as a community of individuals, without being a set of moral doctrines.

The quest was to design a program of ethical virtues that uplifted and enhanced individual lives and the environment around them, without creating a list of rules and moral values that imposed a rigid plan of right and wrong. That was the challenge. In fact, I spent the longest time trying to figure out how to move two of my virtues out of a proscriptive mode (basically: “don’t steal” and “don’t fuck up your body/mind”). It finally took me five years (from my last revision) to rephrase those to my satisfaction. The Pillars and Precepts of the Virtues each have a purpose and an intent, and each offers an idea but does not provide guidance on how to express that idea, instead suggesting that one should strive to convey that idea to the best of one’s ability and through one’s own personal expression.

However, over time, even after I had my original list of eleven virtues completed, that quest mutated yet again.

As I strayed away from group studies and returned to my individual studies, I found that the Virtues still called to me. I continued to formulate my idealized concept of the Knight-Monk of Thelema,²And even then through the expression of the Deacon role in the EGC and further into my idealized understanding of the K.E.W. degree of O.T.O. via Liber 194. I wondered if they might serve me well in that regard. It was at that point that everything fell into place properly for me, and the final revisions came to me without hesitation.

With the Virtues, I wanted to design something that moved outside of my comfort zone and that could not be used against me in the sense of having pandered to my prejudices. I have succeeded in the former; only time and experience will tell if I have done so in the latter. What I can tell you is that the Virtues is a bitch. While it is harmonious with the Law of Thelema—though it would require a whole new level of study and meditation to “scripturally justify” it through the Law itself—it is not a laissez-faire approach to life. The moment you claim the Virtues, it will eat your lunch. But what worth would Virtues be if it was a mere trinket of a child and not the Pillars and Precepts of a Knight-Monk of Thelema?

For me, the virtues of the Knight-Monk require something more than merely parroting Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. The Rule of a cenobitic life demands a higher principle than those who meagerly scamper around on the Earth in search of their next satisfaction. And, yet, the calling of the Knight-Monk is very much the relief and salvation of the world in a single word—Thelema!—in word and in deed.

It is to this higher standard that the Virtues of the Stars was designed. For the first time in fifteen years, I have finally worked through fleshing out a short explanation of each of the virtues. Someday, I may even write this all up in a book of its own.

This is also a personal statement of my Thelemic values, combining the nobility of a Knight and the discipline of a Monk.

The Five Pillars of Nobility of Action

First Pillar: To foster generous living (Generosity)

• Purpose and Intent
  • to promote benevolence, humanity, and gracious living, and
  • to engender a compassionate change in one’s environment.

To live generously is not merely to give, but to become a wellspring of gracious presence in the world. This Pillar calls us not to hollow displays of charity but to a deeper orientation toward benevolence as a mode of being. Generosity, as I conceive it, is not the same as altruism—it is the natural overflow of a life aligned with its Will. It is the refusal to hoard, to gatekeep, or to retreat into spiritual selfishness. It is the practice of holding space for others, not because one is obligated, but because the star that knows itself burns brighter by illuminating what surrounds it. A generous life views others as participants in a shared cosmic inheritance, acting as a conduit of compassion and dignity. This is not done for applause or virtue signaling, but as the quiet work of the Will shaping its world with open hands and a full heart. In this way, generosity becomes not only a discipline of action but a gravitational field—something that bends the world toward kindness by the sheer fact of your presence within it.

Second Pillar: To foster responsible living (Propriety)

• Purpose and Intent
  • to determine appropriate behavior in each circumstance, and
  • to take ownership of one’s behavior and nature.

Propriety, in this context, is not about etiquette or appeasement, but about the fierce dignity of owning one’s conduct in a world that would rather you displace blame. It is the cultivated art of responding to life, not reacting to it, but grounded in discernment, context, and self-possession. To live responsibly is to know when to speak and when to be silent, when to act and when to hold still, not because someone told you the “rules,” but because you have made yourself accountable to something greater than mere impulse. It is the expression of Will matured through integration, not whim disguised as authenticity. This Pillar insists that one’s behavior must be befitting of one’s nature and role, that actions have weight, and that one does not hide behind excuses or shrug off the cost of being fully human. Propriety is about the ownership of one’s actions and behavior in any given situation. It is the ownership and recognition of one’s own nature and acting in accordance with it. Propriety is sovereignty in practice. It is the bearing of a star that knows itself and honors the orbit of others with clarity, gravity, and grace.

Third Pillar: To foster intentional living (Reciprocity)

• Purpose and Intent
  • to examine and explore the active life, and
  • to be mindful of one’s actions in relation to every other point of experience.

Reciprocity is not the ledger of fairness; it is the sacred geometry of living deliberately within a web of consequence and relation. To live intentionally is to recognize that every action reverberates, that nothing truly stands alone, and that our every movement creates ripples across the constellation of being. This Pillar is the call to live with eyes open—not only to our own desires, but to how those desires intersect with others, challenge them, nourish them, or harm them. Reciprocity demands that we do not float through life as accidents of flesh and longing, but that we become active participants in the ecology of spirit and matter. It is the continual practice of presence: to pause, to weigh, to respond. Not in fear of doing wrong, but in reverence for the interconnectedness of all. It is how we acknowledge the gravity of our orbit and live in such a way that others are not pulled into chaos, but are instead invited toward coherence.

Fourth Pillar: To foster noble living (Decorum)

• Purpose and Intent
  • to act in a manner that is unified in character and dignity, and
  • to provide a scaffolding of consistency of a personal nature.

Decorum is the outward shape of inward coherence—a kind of visible integrity that aligns speech, gesture, and presence with the inner standard of one’s Star. It is not about politeness or pretense, but about the deliberate cultivation of a unified character: the consistency of one who knows who they are, what they serve, and how they will carry themselves across the battlefield of daily life. This Pillar is not defensive, but declarative. It says, “I have chosen how to be, and I will not betray it when the winds turn.” Decorum offers scaffolding where chaos might otherwise reign, and in doing so, it affirms that dignity is not situational—it is elemental. It is how the individual becomes legible to themselves and to others, not through conformity, but through the unmistakable cadence of a life lived with form, poise, and courage.

Fifth Pillar: To foster beautiful living (Epicuriosity)

• Purpose and Intent
  • to promote the greatest good for the individual, and
  • to provide harmony between the individual and their community.

Epicuriosity is the virtue of delight pursued with depth—a synthesis of epicurean insight and existential curiosity. It is not hedonism, nor sterile asceticism, but the refined art of savoring existence while seeking its deeper harmonies. To live beautifully is to ask what is good, not merely what is pleasurable, and true, and not simply what is expedient. It is to answer not just for oneself, but in relationship with the world around you. This Pillar invites the individual to become a connoisseur of meaning, finding joy that uplifts rather than isolates, and seeking refinement of taste, temperament, and time. Beauty here is not decoration—it is nourishment, it is tangible depth. It is the signature of a life in rhythm with its True Will, expressive without being indulgent, self-fulfilling without becoming self-enclosed. A beautiful life radiates. It elevates. And it subtly instructs others not by command but by inspiration. It is evidence that Thelema is not only true, but luminous.

The Six Precepts of Discipline

First Precept: To honor and respect life

• Purpose and Intent
  • to promote harmony in interpersonal relationships, and
  • to engage the ideals of honor in individual and social dealings.

To honor life is to live in such a way that one’s presence affirms the inherent dignity of being—not merely human being, but being in all its forms. This Precept is about more than etiquette or manners; it is the soul-deep commitment to approach others with reverence, not out of obligation, but from the recognition that every Star shines with its own light. Honor is not antiquated—it is the noble gravity that holds relationships together with integrity and meaning. To respect life is to recognize its fragility, its mystery, and its worth—not only in grand gestures, but in everyday dealings. This is where Thelemic chivalry is forged: in kindness without weakness, boundaries without cruelty, and dealings marked by clarity, justice, and forthrightness.

Second Precept: To advocate mindful consumption

• Purpose and Intent
  • to render awareness of purposeful existence, and
  • to raise the act of living to an art.

Mindful consumption is the refusal to treat life like a buffet of compulsions. It is the sacred act of choosing what we take in—food, media, relationships, and ideas—with intention and artistry. This Precept is a direct affront to the mechanical hunger of the modern age, reminding us that to live well is to live on purpose, to live in a meaningful, intentional, and mindful way. It is not about guilt or denial, but refinement: the cultivation of taste, discernment, and the realization that every act of consumption is an act of self-creation. Whether we are feeding the body, the mind, or the spirit, we are shaping ourselves—and therefore our world. We consume not to fill a void, but to nourish a vision.

Third Precept: To promote sovereignty of self and personal property

• Purpose and Intent
  • to delineate a sense of personal boundaries, and
  • to provide the opportunity for social responsibility.

Sovereignty is not selfishness—it is sacred space and place. This Precept enshrines the right to one’s body, one’s mind, one’s time, and one’s possessions, not as objects of greed but as expressions of Will. Thelema is not communal erosion of the self; it is the firm boundary that makes meaningful relationship possible. To know what is yours—and to defend it with clarity and restraint—is what allows you to then enter into community with integrity. Property, like personhood, is not a cage, but a stage: a place where the drama of your existence unfolds. This Precept teaches that from clearly defined boundaries arises the possibility of responsible exchange, stewardship, and mutual flourishing.

Fourth Precept: To support a healthy approach to personal sexuality

• Purpose and Intent
  • to encourage self-respect, and
  • to build resistance against fear, guilt, and shame.

Sexuality, in the Thelemic current, is not a dirty little secret to be managed. It is a sacred force to be honored. This Precept affirms that one’s erotic nature is neither shameful nor incidental, but intrinsic to one’s wholeness. The point is not permission, but precision: to understand, embrace, and refine one’s sexual expression with self-respect and power. It is the refusal to live under inherited scripts of guilt or fear. To cultivate a healthy sexuality is to look desire in the eye, not with indulgence or repression, but with reverence. In this way, sexuality becomes not a battlefield, but a temple where joy, responsibility, and authenticity are no longer in contradiction.

Fifth Precept: To nurture self-aware and transparent behavior

• Purpose and Intent
  • to support personal accountability, and
  • to promote personal and communal security.

There is a quiet kind of strength in being able to name your own patterns, to claim your own motives, to show your hand even when it trembles. This Precept demands that we live as if we are constantly under our own watchful eye, not in paranoia, but in integrity. Transparency is not vulnerability for vulnerability’s sake; it is the habit of not hiding from yourself. When the inner and outer self begin to align, we become coherent, trustworthy, and whole. This discipline fosters environments where security can take root, not because everyone is perfect, but because everyone is seen and known. We do not manipulate shadow to gain power; we shine a light and own what we find there.

Sixth Precept: To cultivate healthy cognitive and somatic functions

• Purpose and Intent
  • to ensure clarity of thought and action, and
  • to provide a foundation for healthy mental and physical growth.

The Will is not carried by spirit alone. It must be housed in a vessel that can sustain it. This Precept is about maintaining the instrument of your incarnation with the reverence it deserves. Clarity of thought, vitality of body, and the dynamic between them form the ground from which all action springs. This is not about perfectionism or aesthetic fitness—it is about stewardship. The mind that is overfed with nonsense, or the body that is neglected or abused, becomes a poor emissary for the Star within. To cultivate wellness is to honor the life-force as something that deserves your care. The body is your sword. The mind, your compass. Treat them accordingly.

The Virtues of the Stars is not a moral system. It is a crucible. It does not tell you what to do—it dares you to become. These Pillars and Precepts were not written to coddle the seeker, but to confront them with the weight of their own potential. This is not for those who wish to decorate themselves with borrowed language and call it liberation. It is for those who would forge a Rule of Life from the raw iron of Thelema and bear its heat willingly. A Virtue, in this Rule, is not a commandment but a mirror. It shows you who you are, and asks whether that is who you truly Will to be. And if it is not—then you begin again, with dignity, and discipline, and fire.

What I have offered here is not a gospel, not a catechism, not a new holy book. It is a challenge, and a confession. It is the shape of the work as I have understood it—a scaffolding of star-born discipline for those few who feel called to something more than indulgence, more than identity, more than an aesthetic of liberation. If the Knight-Monk is to exist at all, it must be because someone somewhere refuses to abandon the high road, even when it’s unmarked and overgrown. If any of this speaks to you, then carry it—not as dogma, but as a standard. Raise it high. And let it demand from you the kind of life that would make even other Thelemites take notice.

Love is the law, love under will.