I hope the readers that stumbled upon my previous post about the 3 of coins and spring found it delightful and useful, here it is if you would like to read it. Right here and now, I want to share a few things that are developing.
I started this site as a way for me to open up about myself, a way to force an articulation of my inner thoughts, a dialectic between myself and whomever found any of my words relevant. Since that humble beginning, much has transpired. I have grown in my connection to the tarot, taken classes with the wonderfully precise Camelia Elias, moved to the far-away Pacific Northwest, learned to detach more effectively from constructs (both cultural and self-made). I have also deepened my magical journey, the journey of enchantment. I realize now I have come full circle the deeper I go, as mentioned a few weeks ago, while improving in constancy the work in the realms of the unseen. In other words, I have effectively gotten braver as I have stepped into unfathomable waters. I like where this folk catholic journey is taking me. I appreciate and feel a connection to the permutations of catholicism within the everyday magical approaches of the past. It gives me a sense of connection to my ancestors, while also allowing me to see the varying vectors of magic that evolved from the interaction of the everyday folk and the formal structure of the catholic framework.
I stumbled, through a variety of ways, first by way of “reading the cards like the devil,” and then via Runesoup, onto Jose Leitao’s grimoric The Book of Saint Cyprian: The Sorcerer’s Treasure. Added a link for those curious. I have been reading it slowly, taking my time, while also aware that once I am done I will start reading it again. The depths hidden within this book are profound. It unlocked the floodgates, and I find myself reading more consistently. Both in search for the strings of connected magic, the framework underneath all that is seen, and also as a way of formulating and composing my own myths and mythic structure. Mythopoeia. This, in and of itself, is an ongoing never-ending quest. Aside from Leitao’s powerhouse of a book, I want to add a few more books I have recently read or am reading, Gordon White’s Pieces of Eight and Starships, while Stephen Flower’s books on Runes and Runology are always on hand and close. Lastly, I am re-reading Samuel T. Coleridge’s poetry, with John Milton on the wait-list as the followup. So many roots and byways have opened with the beginning of this year, initiated by virtue of taking the journey and the creation serious, even when it is sometimes overwhelming because I want to devour it all. In the midst, I am reminded to constantly pace myself as I am also of flesh and bone.
As all this percolates within and without, I find myself considering the role of knowledge, the meaning of wisdom in my life. Even though I am always reading, I have become tacitly aware that true ancestral wisdom, that which stems from the deep tide of civilization spanning back unfathomable centuries, is inherent. It is something we carry unconsciously, that is unlocked when we take the time to truly consider reality, unreality, progression, destruction, the stars, birth, life, living, humanity. It is something we glean in our inner realms, like a small iridescent rock that is accidentally unearthed from the deep dark earth. I find myself thinking about this small iridescent rock, wanting to draw it nearer, to know it, and to see it clearer. Knowing that true magic, that which lies in the unconscious, is universal.
As I mark my one year anniversary, I am thankful for all the spirits and forces and gods and goddesses that have enriched my life, passed by, destroyed, helped, guided, taunted, looked on, and overall changed me and my surroundings in some way. And I am thankful to you, the reader, that for whatever reason, stops by this small space on the internet to read my words. Thank you.
While the road continues, I hope to create narratives that are pertinent, precise, and poetic, slinging the cards as always.
2 thoughts on “Winding down the road in the eternal quest”
I’m the sort of person who hates Paradise Lost more every time I read it, but I know it well enough to unpack its presuppositions (but then, I’m far more of the Devil’s party. I adored a rereading of Dante’s Inferno after having a grounding in classical literature. (I suspect Purgatorio and Paradiso would be fruitful for someone further up the celestial rabbit hole.) I might also point to Blake, though, after a reread of Milton, especially Blake’s later stuff–but most folks would appreciate a Blake Companion of some kind.
I might also point to a read of some selections of Sidney, Shelley, Coleridge, and others, but if you wish, I can point those out that I think are good for intersecting art and magic.
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Oh yes, Satan really does tug at the heart in paradise lost. I am thinking of skipping that as I read not too long ago and going for Milton’s essays and otger poetry. I love all the romantics. Shelley and Coleridge are one of my favorites although I do know Blake is valuable. Woodsworth is one of the few that don’t do it for me. Only a few of his poems touch me, the rest I feel are a bit too indulgent. Altgough it has been a while, maybe a rereading of wordsworth. I happily welcome reading suggestions magically inclined.