WHEN IT'S TIME TO WALK AWAY

Leaving O.T.O. to Uphold the Spirit of Thelema

It’s never easy to watch a passionate Thelemite walk away from Ordo Templi Orientis. As someone who devoted years to O.T.O. only to leave in disillusionment, I’ve seen this pattern up close. Recently, a prominent member, Frater Entelecheia, publicly resigned after 11 years of service, having also served as Master of a major Lodge. His departure has hit me hard, not only because of our shared love for Thelema, but also because it echoes the same painful truths I confronted in my own exit seven years ago.

Why do so many deeply engaged members – often the very people working hardest to promulgate Thelema – end up leaving the Order?

Before diving in, I must acknowledge something: Frater Entelecheia and I have not always seen eye to eye, and that’s an understatement. We’ve clashed over his anti–“Consensus Thelema” stance and his unorthodox views on Liber XV. In the past, he even directed serious harassment and defamation my way, which at the time I attributed to the cult-like mentality of most members of Ordo Templi Orientis, but that it might have just boiled down to the fact we see the world from very different vantage points and we are never going to agree, on anything.

Despite these disagreements, reading his resignation posts on Facebook and Reddit felt like déjà vu. His words rang true, painfully true. Whatever our ideological, moral, and ethical rifts, we clearly witnessed the same undercurrents within O.T.O., and both of us reached a breaking point for strikingly similar reasons.

Ideals vs. Reality

In his public resignation statement, Frater Entelecheia outlines the trajectory from idealism to disappointment that many of us are familiar with.

“After eleven years of sincere membership and service—including my recent role as Master of Horizon Lodge—I have formally resigned from Ordo Templi Orientis,” he begins, setting a solemn tone. “This is not a decision I made lightly. I invested years of study, leadership, initiation work, and creative output into the Order because I believed in its stated ideals: freedom of will, spiritual integrity, and the transformative power of ritual and community.”

Here is a man who gave everything to O.T.O. – study, sweat, creative passion – because he truly believed in what the Order claimed to stand for. Freedom. Enlightenment. Spiritual community. I read his words and recall my younger self brimming with that same faith. We wanted O.T.O. to succeed in its holy mission. We truly did.

Yet, as Entelecheia sorrowfully notes, the shine of those ideals wore off with time. “Over time, however, I experienced patterns I could no longer ignore,” he writes. “In my view, dissent was quietly discouraged, rules seemed to be applied selectively, and loyalty to hierarchy often outweighed open communication.” What he describes is a slow descent from optimism into disillusionment, as day-to-day reality in the Order failed to live up to Thelema’s lofty principles. The picture he paints is uncannily familiar to me and countless others who have drifted away from O.T.O.:

• Dissent discouraged: Critical questions and new ideas are met with quiet pressure to stay in line, rather than open discussion.

• Selective rule enforcement: Rules and standards are applied unevenly – a convenient double standard where insiders’ transgressions are often overlooked, while outspoken critics are reprimanded.

• Hierarchy over truth: Members are expected to show unwavering loyalty to leaders and the party line, even at the cost of honesty and open communication.

Frater Entelecheia’s resignation letter methodically outlines these issues, and I find myself nodding at every line. The reality of modern O.T.O., as he suggests, is a far cry from its ideals. It’s painful to admit, but he’s right: an Order founded on the Law of Thelema became a place where speaking too freely is subtly (or not so subtly) discouraged; a fraternity preaching “integrity” often tolerates hypocrisy if it preserves authority; a community exalting the “transformative power” of ritual and Thelemic ideals somehow creates an environment where genuine transformation is stifled by politics and ego. In his farewell, Entelecheia manages to voice what so many of us felt but struggled to articulate while inside the Order.

What struck me as especially significant is how he voiced these truths. He did so calmly and comprehensively, emphasising at multiple points that he wasn’t acting out of some momentary anger or personal crisis. This was no “explosive” rant or impulsive outburst – and he made that clear.

Why? Because he knows, as I do now, the defensive tactic the Order reliably deploys whenever a member leaves on principle. Rather than engage with why someone might abandon a group they once loved, leaders often dismiss the person as just “another angry ex-member,” “broken” by their own issues, or prone to “explosive” behaviour. It’s a convenient way to deflect blame: paint the critic as a bitter malcontent so no one needs to consider the critique. Frater Entelecheia preemptively defused this by stressing his sobriety and sincerity. If I could go back in time, I would do exactly the same, as opposed to the kind of sturm und drang approach that characterised me last decade. Reading his post, you can almost hear him say between the lines: I’m not crazy or hysterical; I’m just telling you what I saw. And what he saw is what I saw – what so many of us have seen behind the temple doors.

A Pattern of Disillusionment and Alienation

The institutional behaviours that Entelecheia describes are not isolated incidents; they form a pattern that has caused wave after wave of devoted members to quietly slip out the door.

I recognised it in 2018 when I left, and his account confirms it’s still happening. The dissent-quashing, the uneven discipline, the hierarchy-first mentality – these create a perfect storm that erodes trust in the leadership and the spiritual worth of the Order itself. Eventually, even the most zealous Thelemite is left asking, “Is this really what I signed up for?”

I remember grappling with that question myself. In theory, O.T.O. was supposed to be a vehicle for the 93 Current, a catalyst for personal enlightenment and a new epoch of freedom. In practice, I found an organisation often paralysed by its own dogma and defensiveness. When I dared to challenge bigotry and harassment within the Order, I was met with resistance and retaliation rather than reflection. My conscience demanded I speak out – after all, “There is no law beyond Do what thou wilt,” and that includes shining light on corruption. But the response from on high was chilly. Like many others, I was implicitly expected to put loyalty above truth.

Frater Entelecheia’s experience was much the same. He notes how voicing dissent was frowned upon and how the “rules” bent around those in favor. This breeds a climate of fear and frustration. Members learn to stay silent about problems or face social (and sometimes formal) consequences. Over time, the sincere seeker starts to feel that their inner moral compass is at odds with the group’s demands. They become emotionally alienated – out of place in a temple that once felt like home.

Worse, when someone reaches their limit and decides to leave, the reaction from the Order often proves their point. In my “5 Things To Expect After Leaving O.T.O.” article, written shortly after I resigned, the first warning I gave was: “you can expect ostracism, ridicule, and general unpleasantness from those who called you Sister or Brother just a mere day before.” Indeed, the moment you step out, many who once embraced you vanish. In Frater Entelecheia’s case, some are already whispering that he “betrayed” the Order or “couldn’t handle it”, just look at the comments on his posts, which are the carbon copy replica of the ones I received all those years ago, often by the same people. It’s easier for them to believe that than to consider that his criticisms might be valid.

If you dare to voice why you left, expect an even harsher backlash. As I cautioned, if your departure is seen as a particularly heinous betrayal – say, because you spoke plainly about your experiences – “you can expect a number of your ex ‘Brethren’…that will go every possible length to downplay, silence, or destroy you and your words.” In other words, some insiders will treat you as an enemy to be neutralised. I’ve witnessed this “smear campaign” reflex time and again. The Order’s defenders – perhaps unable to refute the substance of your account – instead attack your character. Suddenly, the narrative becomes “she was always difficult,” or “he just wanted attention,” or the classic “they’re just angry and broken.” The owners of the Boleskine House Foundation called me “a qliphotic excrement”.

Thelemites who once prided themselves on critical thinking fall back on a caricature: the Angry Ex-Member. This caricature is conveniently used to invalidate anything that person says about the Order. It’s a deeply defensive maneuver, and it works far too often.

The result of this hostile response is a kind of self-censorship among members, both former and current. I know dozens O.T.O. initiates who quietly slipped away over the years without fanfare. Why? Because they knew if they spoke up or tried to hold leadership accountable, they’d be branded the “explosive” malcontent and dismissed. It’s easier to just fade into the shadows than endure that abuse. But the tragedy is that by leaving silently, the pattern remains hidden to those who stay. Leadership can continue claiming “all is well – see, no one vocally objected!” Meanwhile, a slow bleed of talent and heart is happening offstage. The most dedicated Thelemites – people who genuinely love Thelema’s principles – either get forced out or burn out. And those who remain often do so by compromising parts of themselves, or convincing themselves that any misgivings are just personal failings or “lack of understanding.” The cycle continues, largely unbroken.

“You’re Not Crazy, You’re Not Alone”: Breaking the Silence

This is why I believe it’s so important to speak up and share these stories, painful as they are. To any current or former member reading this who feels isolated, doubting, or gaslit by these experiences: you are not crazy, and you are not alone. I wish someone had said that to me when I first started sensing that things were very wrong in O.T.O. – when I would attend a Gnostic Mass or Initiation meeting and feel a pit in my stomach because of the hypocrisy or hostility I saw.

At the time, I wondered, “Is it just me? Am I overreacting?” I know now that I wasn’t. And neither are you.

Both Frater Entelecheia and I have taken the uncomfortable step of saying publicly what many whisper in private. It’s not done out of hate for O.T.O., but out of love for Thelema’s truth, a love that won’t permit us to stay silent as people get hurt and spiritual aims get twisted. Part of why I’m writing this is precisely to reach those who are suffering in silence. There’s a power in openly acknowledging “This happened, it’s real”. It validates the sanity of those who suspected something was off all along. When Entelecheia describes an Order culture of repression and favouritism, he’s basically telling every disillusioned member out there: “No, it’s not just in your head.” I did the same in 2018, and many privately thanked me for confirming what they had observed but felt too intimidated to say.

Let me repeat it clearly: You’re not crazy. You’re not overly sensitive. And you’re certainly not alone. There are more of us than the current O.T.O. leadership would like to admit – sane, sincere Thelemites who gave their all to the Order and left not because we “couldn’t hack it,” but because we wouldn’t accept the cognitive dissonance any longer. We realised that staying would mean betraying our own True Will or moral core. And leaving, for all the loss it entails, was an act of integrity and self-respect. To anyone in that position now, I extend my empathy. It’s like leaving a family or a church – you will question yourself, and others will question you. But trust that inner voice. Thelemic truth thrives in freedom, including the freedom to walk away from any group that demands your silence as the price of belonging.

I also encourage those who left quietly to consider sharing their experiences, even if anonymously or in a supportive forum. Every time one of us speaks up, it gets harder for the Order’s PR machine to paint all ex-members as “explosive angry failures.” We prove instead that we are thoughtful individuals who tried to make O.T.O. work, but ultimately refused to settle for an organisation that didn’t live up to its sacred tenets.

By sharing, we remind each other that our perceptions were valid. We form a community of survivors – not to wallow in negativity, but to uphold the real ideals of Thelema outside the confines of a faltering institution. Having gone through the fire, we have a bond of understanding and a duty to show compassion to those still finding their way out.

2025: The Fragmented State of Thelema

Back in 2018, when I first resigned, I still carried a spark of hope that maybe the broader Thelemic community could unite to reform O.T.O. or create a healthier movement. I believed that if enough of us raised our voices, we could will a better future for the legacy of Aleister Crowley’s teaching. Seven years later, that hope has dimmed considerably. The landscape of Thelema in 2025 is, frankly, fractured. Not only has O.T.O. itself become plagued by internal rifts – different national sections and cliques feuding, “reform” groups splintering off, old guard vs. new voices – but the wider Thelemic world is also splintered into camps that can hardly stand each other.

Consider the prominent voices we have now, with social media and blogs who lean either strongly left-wing (emphasising social justice, anti-fascism, etc.) or right-wing (emphasising traditionalism, libertarianism, or even flirtations with authoritarian ideas) – all waving the banner of Thelema. The disagreements aren’t trivial. They cut to the core of how Thelema should be lived and what role (if any) an organisation like O.T.O. should play. And the conflicts have often been public and ugly, as anyone who’s followed Thelemic discussions online can attest.

It’s become clear to me that a single unified Thelemic movement – one big happy fraternity – is not on the horizon. Perhaps it was never realistic, but in the aftermath of my O.T.O. exit, I thought we could rally disparate factions under a common purpose. Now I see that Thelema is manifesting in diverse, and often antagonistic, forms. The ideals of the Law of Thelema are interpreted in irreconcilable ways by different groups. Efforts to foster consensus (ironically, what Entelecheia derided as “Consensus Thelema”) have mostly led to more polarisation.

The truth is, Thelema as a spiritual current may not be suited to mass-movement cohesion. Crowley’s own words hint as much: “Let my servants be few & secret: they shall rule the many & the known.” AL I:10’s cryptic proclamation suggests that Thelema was always intended for a select few rather than the masses. In my more optimistic days, I interpreted “the Law is for all” to mean anyone could join the party; now I better appreciate the nuance that while anyone may, in theory, embrace Thelema, in practice only a few will truly dedicate themselves to the Great Work at the heart of the tradition.

I want to be clear: saying Thelema may remain “for the few and secret” is not an endorsement of elitism or gatekeeping. It’s an acknowledgement of reality. The Great Work – the full expression of one’s True Will – is a demanding, deeply personal quest. Most people, even those drawn to mystical paths, ultimately yearn more for community, belonging, and a clear identity than for the solitary path of spiritual self-transformation. O.T.O. tried to be a big tent where all these yearnings could coexist: the esoteric die-hards and the casual social joiners under one roof. It hasn’t worked, at least not in the long run. The social aspects tend to overtake the spiritual, and those who crave genuine initiatory depth eventually find the compromises unbearable (cue the exodus of serious practitioners). Meanwhile, those who primarily sought a social or spiritual community may remain in O.T.O., but even they are now split among competing visions of what that community should look like (politically, doctrinally, etc.). The net effect is a scatter: true aspirants forging ahead largely on their own or in small, trusted cliques, and larger groups fragmenting because their unifying principle – the Law of Thelema – has been interpreted so differently by each faction that they might as well be speaking different languages.

In 2025, I’ve made my peace with this fragmented reality. I no longer believe we will see a single Church of Thelema rising to prominence or a reunified O.T.O. leading a Thelemic revival. Instead, Thelema lives on in a plurality of expressions, many of them underground or on the margins. Perhaps this is how it must be. Crowley’s radical spiritual philosophy was never meant to be a comfortable pew for the masses; it was a clarion call to the individual – “Every man and every woman is a star.” Stars are singular; they don’t clump into a single nebula because each must carve its own path through the heavens. And so it is that the future of Thelema might belong to the few: the few who are willing to prioritise the quest for True Will over the desire for belonging, the few who can hold the light of Thelemic truth even without an Order to sanction them. These few will continue to find each other in small constellations, and maybe that is enough.

Carrying the Flame Forward

Watching Frater Entelecheia leave O.T.O. – and writing this while recalling my own departure – fills me with a sober mix of sadness and hope. Sadness, because an era of trust in the “Orders of old” is ending not with triumphant accomplishment but with disillusionment and dwindling ranks. Hope, because in every person who has the courage to leave a dysfunctional spiritual body, I see the spark of Thelema’s true promise alive and well. We refused to let that spark be extinguished by inertia or fear. We chose the uncertainty of the unknown over the falseness of a hollow shell. That is living Thelema, in my book.

To anyone reading this who may be struggling in similar ways: trust yourself. Our paths may diverge – some of us will continue as solitary practitioners, others will form new micro-communities, others might join different traditions entirely – but the Law of Thelema we carry in our hearts is something no organisation can take away.

Leaving O.T.O. or any outer order does not make you any less of a Thelemite if you choose to uphold the principles in your own life. In fact, it might be the very thing that saves your relationship with Thelema. I know it saved mine. Ironically, I feel far closer to the spirit of Thelema now, in freedom, than I did in my final disillusioned days within the Order.

The state of Thelema in 2025 may be fragmented, but fragmentation is not a death sentence. It is a transformation. The old structures are cracking, yes – but through those cracks, light is getting out. New conversations are happening, new realisations about what truly matters on this path. Maybe Thelema will never have the unified, church-like movement some once envisioned, beginning with Crowley himself. Maybe it will remain, as the Book of the Law foretold, a treasure for “the few & secret.” If so, that’s not because we wanted an exclusive club – it’s because only a few are willing to accept the full freedom and responsibility that Thelema demands. Most people will choose the comfort of a group or a leader over the radical accountability of True Will. And that’s okay. Those of us who choose differently will continue quietly doing the Work, and occasionally finding each other for support and inspiration.

In closing, I offer a final thought to my fellow seekers, past, present, and future: Thelema was never about obeying an outer authority. It has always been about the authority of the inner voice.

When that voice leads you away from a toxic situation, follow it. If it leads you into solitude, trust it. If it brings you to speak inconvenient truths, honour it. The ordeals can be harsh, but there is real joy and liberation on the other side. I no longer dream of a perfect Order or a mass movement of Thelemites holding hands – those were my illusions to lose. What I do believe in, more than ever, is the resilience of the individual soul dedicated to the Light. Institutions may rise and fall, lodges may open and close, but “Every man and every woman is a star” – and the stars will continue in their orbits, burning bright, each in their own magnificent way.

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