Sunday, June 19, 2011

Magic and Magick inspires certain images within our minds. It fires the imaginations of millions, and is the subject of multi-million dollar fortunes built on fantasy franchises and the like.  It is also the subject of so many preconceptions about what it is that we now have absolutely no idea what it is not.

     So where to begin when talking about it? You could literally start anywhere when talking about magic and have the subject in hand come out I'll begin with childhood. When I was a child, magic was Blue Fairy...a puppet without strings...a caterpillar crawling on a leaf...a monarch emerging from it's chrysalis. Magic was Narnia...Aslan...White Witch...dancing fauns...talking mice...magic swords...wardrobes leading to other worlds. Magic was a terrifying presence standing in my room in bright daylight. Magic was a magnifying glass in the backyard...growing things in the garden...losing one's self in blueberry hedge mazes. Magic was thunderstorms...dancing in the rain...splashing in puddles and hoping for a sudden plunge into another world like in "The Magician's Nephew"...settling for rescuing worms out on the pavement afterwards because I couldn't bear to see them dry out and die. Magic was the girl at school...blond hair like golden sunlight...first love...and first fist-fight with best friend turned rival. Magic is secret rooms and hidden passages...gaps in the fence at the biology pond. Magic is repairing a old sea kayak with caulk and taking it down to the local creek for 'one last adventure' only to end up stuck on the shelf of a small waterfall. Magic is hearing the Goddess speak to you when the magic had almost gone out in my eyes. Magic is sex, frenzy, obsession...the spiraling drawing down into the abyss. Magic is learning to be who you are...wherever you are. Magic is Doing, it is the experiences and the imagination that alternately draws and drives us, moves us, delights and/or terrifies us. What would we be if it were gone? Who would we be with out the sum progress of itself threading through our every experience?

      From Magic comes taps upon the sheer impulse of life, imagination and will. It is said to mean more but can be so much less. Magick is a delight. The knowledge of Magick an addictive drug. It's getting away with it when all the rules say you shouldn't. It's a mad victory dance fit for the maenads. A beast becomes a god, a god becomes a man and the magic subsides. Use too much of magick and life can become dull and barren, a life without experiential circumstance. Never use it at all, and life will never surpass the limits of your fate. The Mage effects a subtle balance at the core of who we are. It can effect what we are, how we are what we are. Mostly, it's a matter of sheer gall to use magick. It's telling the Fates or the Gods - I will defy you, even at the highest cost to myself, just for the chance to determine my own way. No other being acts in this way, and in so doing change the nature of Fate or the Gods themselves. The animal has risen above it's station and it's rebellion has become the stuff of legends. Where does this story end? Does it end as it began? With a torch stolen from the heavens, with the bite of forbidden fruit, with the blood of Tiamut's lover swelling in our veins?

My thoughts as a new week begins.

The Valeyard

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