Read this first.
Well, that didn't go quite as expected.
First thing: Turns out (says the witch doctor) nutmeg infused rum is somewhat entheogenic, which might have been cool if not for the slight nausea and rapid heartbeat. Not on an empty stomach, next time. I do not recommend it; it was a (weak, but) harsh, jagged, paranoid high. OTOH, it wore off fast, and left nothing but a slight headache.
Ok, so, I had very little trouble falling into trance (probably because of the accidental high). Once down, all went relatively well. Raziel showed up (flame evocation), and I automatic wrote for a bit. He explained that he is not the keeper of this gate. He is the keeper of the gate of Venus of Mercury. So, naturally, I asked who the keeper of this gate is. He seemed surprised and offended by the question (which,now that I write it, doesn't seem that weird. I guess it was kind of rude of me. I'll make restitution.) but answered it. Answer is ... ...Raguel. I'd never worked with Raguel before, but here's what I went in knowing. He's an archangel. His name means "Friend of God". He's an angel of justice.
He asked for a blue candle to manifest in, wine, and honey. I provided those things. I wasn't sure if the wine was for him or me; I drank some and put some in a bowel. However, the connection was tenuous at best. Around this time is when the nutmeg really started to kick in; it was unpleasant. Other than a vague warning to beware **redacted for privacy/security, message me if you want to talk about it**, there wasn't much actionable info.
He told me my heart chakra was weak (true), and so we worked on that for a little while. At first, there was a coating of concrete about it, that we jack-hammered off. (Last sentence, very metaphoric). Under the hard shell was a very lush forest/jungle, which glowed pink/green. (It was pink and green at the same time, which didn't seem problematic at the time, but I can't really explain it now.) There was a lot of tension/pain, which was eased away with warmth. Raguel seemed kind of pissed to have to do this; I don't think healing is in his usual bailiwick. All in all, he and I didn't really hit it off.
Then, I got a lecture to stop filling my head up with crap, because it made it very hard to construct visions out of what's available. Case in point: this lecture was given by C.J, Craig (the messenger) from West Wing. (Several different spirits have explained to me that dreams/visions aren't inherently in any particular language/medium. They're "beamed" directly into your head as thought-forms, and your brain assembles a metaphoric way to understand them out of whatever is floating about in your subconscious at the time.) I got strict instructions to drastically cut back on non-inspirational TV. I was told that I could sate my fiction-tooth with mythology, Shakespeare, classics, and epic poetry. Arthurian legends were specifically recommended, so I downloaded some of those in audio-book for to listen to at bedtime.
After that, the connection broke. I thanked everyone, and closed the hexegrams.