In case it was not clear, never believe a word posted on this blog. Greet each page with equal skepticism, for it was created as a flawed thing. Do not believe in spirits; for it only encourages them. Do not believe in faeries, no matter what your old pal, Peter Pan, says. Never believe in magic, and never, ever, believe in wizards. That is what gives us our power.
Magic is easy enough to perform if one realizes that the universe is a joke, and humans are the punchline; the sheer improbability of our existence makes the idea of a rational universe seem farcical by comparison. In all of the vast, complicated, empty universe, seething as it is with meaninglessness, there is a speck upon a speck in a sea of nothing where something interesting happened. A type of ill-advisedly conscious, ape-descended bipedal life has taken it upon themselves to puzzle out the meaning of everything. They want to know why they are here, why there is one place in the universe so full of life when everything else is, apparently, bleak and barren. So obsessed with this quest are they, that their most celebrated members are those that make it their life’s work to complete the puzzle.
The funniest part, of course, is that it’s working. This little mutation, this fluke on the pattern of the cosmos that calls itself Humanity, has leashed the forces of fire and stone to conquer air and water, to claim every corner of this small world and demand that the open sky give answer to their endless curiosity. And it’s working. Granted, it’s a terribly cryptic answer. It takes generations of time and talent, and every time we think we’ve seen things at as small or large a scale as they get, we find another layer to peel away. But it’s an answer, and a fascinating journey on the way to reveal it.
Why do we do it? Because we care. There are endless patterns, and we like knowing them; endless paths, and we like going where they lead. There is an infinity of space and time out there, and we each get eighty or so years– the blink of an eye, really– to take in as much of it as possible. Cue the laugh track.
Nothing matters!, cries the universe.
Everything is worth it, replies humanity.
We silly things are in love with being alive. Whether that romance is abusive, codependent, neglectful, or whole and healthy, we are all lovers of the very act of living; and when life beats us, by and large we get up again, ready for more. Our curiosity demands it; our intrigue forces our hand. The man who stops wanting to know about the world around him is as good as dead.
The practice of magic is, fundamentally, the act of placing your life– the short, turbulent thing that it is– at the center of your oh-so-human curiosity; of learning where you fit in the cosmos, and doing so with grace and contentment. That said, this blog will provide no answers. It is more aptly styled a Book of Secrets, a Manual of Methods, a Tome of Tips and Tricks– a little foray into the strategies that you can use to be constantly moving towards a life that suits you, brings you what you need, and loves you back.
If you like what I do here, please consider supporting me, whether with belief or a small donation– two dollars on Ko-Fi is more than enough. I’m saving for a drawing tablet, something to start making more and cleaner sigil-work upon to share here! It would mean the world to me.
Leave a Reply