I read your words over and over again. I need to for then they may be better ingrained into my mind.
I am not to play a game, for this is a quickening and all of a sudden even in this Isolated Tower with Views across the land to Western Reaches of The Isle of Apples; I feel the swiftness of arrows, the bolts or dorjes of communication which fly in the face of the mercurial god of Olympus - Such it is with Wild Magic for it appears as Chaos and that is a requirement to bend the laws and allow probabilities to only be stopped by such matters as logic.
To know the matter one would need to hear the story from start to finish yet the start remains still behind a veil and the finish is surely in the realms of the endless.
If in that you can throw me a gentle nudge I will suck upon it as previous avatars have had to suck upon the teat of Cerridwen, or when I had to suck upon my burning thumb al but silenced by the opening of memories past and future.
Was there not a moment when I sang with lute and paraded afore selfish King's to make brave their deeds. When all they had done was pay the hunter a bag of gold? When I was as always an child unwanted in truth by the womb that thrust me forth. To cast aside like a rag to sea, to family that did not care or want to understand why my reality would néer be theirs.
To swim in placenta within the great ocean of the unconscious and be nurtured by fey or wolves in the wild wood where only there I could find peace. Apparently alone yet never so for always she watches and waits a nursemaid that whispers what is safe to eat or what to eat to heal or recall, or make like as to stagger until a path was secured.
Previous ages, Previous Matrix from Babylon to this Now. It was the same. The controlling few and us call is what you will. For now Wizard and Witches shall suffice - Shaman either way. We journey, we seek to resolve a balance.
We see them and they see us. We surely know the games that are played. For to the power hungry that covet dominion over the many it has been a long game. And oft it has been required to stand on that edge between one time and the next where magick lays and futures are created.
The works of man have long created archetypes that the profane will bow to.
Do I bow? Not to some Things that corrupt humanity has vomited from their co-creation. To move forward the passages must be cleared. And perhaps yes more often in particular this incarnation my actions have been pure folly. Yet my intent was pure.
I still dally to keep them confused. That is key.
And if I was to say that more so in the past week since visiting upon the archetype of Merlins cave, (and not for the first time), I have questioned myself, my sanity, my purpose and my destiny. For I am perhaps often unreasonable in my appearance however I am full of reason.
Do I require help? Yes; I Do.
Do I want help? Yes; I Do.
Will I bow to man-thing? Never.
So while I can lark of being a stag of seven tines I am here and there I am then and now.
So many of us felt that way like we should not be here or now yet here we are.
Parents came together and through some chance a sperm entered an egg that sperm decided whether we were male or female this is a science fact as much as magick is science or art, with no mystery, yet is it not beautiful - and we developed one cell then another and so on.
That's wonderful. As we developed in mothers womb we ate what she ate floating in her amniotic fluids we were at one stage a snake another a wolf another a chimera and then a human form - is that no less a journey than that of the Shaman of old, or a bard our avatar Talesin? The generics of Merlin perhaps?
And then we were put out into this world and we survived and we have given life itself and nurtured your own children. Or given cafe to another's, even to look after the animals around us as best we can.
We have not done anything less than our ancestors perhaps though what we have done has been done in love, and there is no greater gift and no greater power.
Here I do not speak of Religion or whatever these things are facts, truths and they are beautiful. That is the gift we have given your ancestors.
Our DNA has survived, as has their line. Now that is Magick.
So now we need to have a clear path for humanities consciousness. To give a chance of seeing raises heads looking out towards a starry arch in wonder and the freedom to breath, without corruption charging for the privilege.
In this incarnation I was aware that reality was not as simple as it appeared. I did not let the educational system kill my imagination. The system which you know only to well and have survived sets restrains on our ability to perform the act by it's very insistence on labels and pigeon holes and that which They say does not conform or fit like square peg to round hole is hammered. We are aware, We are very much awake. Even giants need to stretch from a slumber before moving one foot.
In times in this life some have stretched forth to explore alternative realms; I know that most of what is to be found there is another's projection another veil of lies and beguilement to trick even those with sight into the concept of success or to lead them further afield, perhaps to insanity or perhaps to the very place they started from. The reset of the matrix.
"Thus, that which gives us the power to work magic, sets the limits of that power. A mage can control only what is near him, what he can name exactly and wholly. And this is well. If it were not so, the wickedness of the powerful, or the folly of the wise would long ago have sought to change what cannot be changed. . . [A Wizard of Earthsea 47-48"]
Rules and controls within certain realms are easily bent to discord. And why not to THEY not play the very same game, Or perhaps they do not and they have fallen into the trap of their own mundane control system.
"Ah, my friend, you forget. We have not yet mastered the First Ward -- not in generations of study. The best of the Loresraat have failed to unveil the central mysteries. We can do nothing with this new Ward now. Perhaps if we survive this Quest, we will learn from the Second in later years. [Donaldson 432]" Lord Fouls Bane
So they confuse us with rules, passwords, ranks, grades, and Symbols. Such trinkets are for the lower realms. Chaos and Wild Magick breaks beyond such tokens.
"But you must not change one thing, one pebble, one grain of sand, until you know what good and evil will follow on that act. The world is in balance, in Equilibrium. A wizard's power of Changing and of Summoning can shake the balance of the world. It is dangerous, that power. It is most perilous. It must follow knowledge, and serve need. To light a candle is to cast a shadow" . . . [A Wizard of Earthsea 43-44]
There is much wisdom to a fool in the above. Lo even those initiates of the Inner Orders are advised in much the same way. Assuredly we cannot uncreate something which we ourselves have not created. They are told in the reaches of the White Brotherhood this is that and that is this - this is ritual this is your will. And then in an after breath these shabby masters say, "You are not permitted under oath to act, and then some hermetic slop from the Kybalion around the universal law of opposites and polarities and for every action there is and equal counter reaction. And I say what of it?
To say that karma does not exist may well be a folly however I would rather act with impunity in defense of consciousness than sit back and let others of a darker nature play out their nefarious plans.
"Opposites require each other. Otherwise the difference is lost, and only chaos remains. No, there can be no Despite without Creation. Better to ask how the Creator could have forgotten that when he made the Earth. For if he did not forget, then Creation and Despite existed together in his one being, and he did not know it." [Lord Foul's Bane 293]
There are many mysteries that for now I care not to know if they get in the way of emancipation. One thing is Crystal Clear, and I know of my Crystals. I did not reach this point without the catalyst of the being who exists within one. The Demi-Urge that sits over is nothing but a tired ancient old being who would be best to stand well aside in the coming of days.
He raised his hand, and spoke slowly in a cold, clear voice. "Saruman, your staff is broken." There was a crack, and the staff split asunder in Saruman's hand, and the head of it fell down at Gandalf's feet. "Go!" said Gandalf. With a cry Saruman fell back and crawled away. [The Two Towers 569]
There are tools and there are tools and there are tools for fools. And I have all of them at my disposal.
"He only needs the One; for he made that Ring himself, it is his, and he let a great part of his own former power pass into it, so that he could rule all the others. If he recovers it, then he will command them all again, wherever they be, even the Three, and all that has been wrought with them will be laid bare, and he will be stronger than ever." [Fellowship 50]
Be wary of how our tools are powered for much of you is within them. Better to be able to stand clear, cleansed, and naked as a babe against the abyss than to rely upon totems of material goods.
"Do you want my ring?"
"Want?" Foamfollower croaked, looking as if he felt he should laugh but did not have the heart for it. "Want?" His voice quavered painfully, as if were confessing to some kind of aberration. "Do not use such a word, my friend. Wanting is natural, and may succeed or fail without wrong. Say covet, rather. To covet is to desire something which should not be given. Yes, I covet your un-Earth, wild magic, peace-ending white gold . . . I admit the desire. But do not tempt me. [Lord Foul's Bane 197]"
I have such a ring yet what appears as such in this reality you can take fingers and all. It would not stop my will from crossing the dimensions that THEY feast in yet have forgotten how they weave. Think not that the Gods of Olympus are much more divine.
"Then Schmendrick stepped into the open and said a few words. These were short words, undistinguished either by melody or harshness, and Schmendrick himself could not hear them for the Red Bull's dreadful bawling. But he knew what they meant, and he knew exactly how to say them, and he knew that he could say them again when he wanted to, in the same way or in a different way. Now he spoke them gently and with joy, and as he did so he felt his immortality fall from him like armor, or like a shroud. [The Last Unicorn 185]
Words, Vibrate as do letters numbers, colours and shapes the things of nature and that which is called the cosmos can be cast within words. This is an art in itself. Magick is the highest Art Form. It vibrates as does music to your favourite art piece or Opera. It is no less than the greatest stage of all. Except this is no Act. While it may appear a performance - There is only one footstep away from the door of the house. And in that journey new worlds can be born.
And to another tale to finish the words above.
She walks with me. I was once her lover a handfasted youth, a year and a day. I was a younger far less wise child.
She was a maiden.
When that part of the journey ended it damn near broke me. For I did not fully understand her mystery. I thought I was special the only one.
Yet I am but a long line of fools.
She became the mother and nursemaid. While I wallowed in confusion and by the time she became the crone I was furious.
Indeed large areas of the fields were lain waste in my anger and bitterness.
I was Chronos chained to a rock.
And then that revulsion subsided. That day I collapsed, shaking, naked, cold and weeping.
I accepted and understood the blessings she had bestowed upon me.
She had after all taken my on that quest.
And she is old, so very old, and wise in the ways of man, a maid, a lover, a mother, a nursemaid, a crone and harbinger.
She was there before I was born and will be with me until I die.
A reminder of mans folly and vanity.
And she makes us beautiful in her eyes.
Of her consort The God...
Well that is another mystery.
Beagle, Peter S. The Last Unicorn. New York: Roc/New American Library, 1991.
Donaldson, Stephen R. Lord Foul's Bane. Part I of The Chronicles of Thomas Coveant the Unbeliever. New York: Ballantine Books, 1977.
Tolkien, J.R.R. The Lord of the Rings. Houghton Mifflin, Boston: 1966.
Wolfe, Gene. The Shadow of the Torturer in Shadow & Claw. New York: Tom Doherty Associates, 1981.
I Tego Arcana Dei