For as long as I’ve considered myself a religious adept or metaphysical practitioner or healer or clairvoyant or whatever other term might apply to my spiritual studies and striving, I’ve secretly longed for my will to be obliterated.
I’ve longed for a spell or charm or prayer that would achieve its intended effect without any involvement from me.
Through a strange combination of both skepticism and deep credulity, I’ve wanted to see incontrovertible results that would override my need to believe in them. I approached each new technique or discipline with a wide-eyed hope that this would be the puzzle piece that had been missing from my belief system so far, that finally I’d found the thing that would not only work but would, in working, validate my deep desire to know that magic still exists in the world. And that I could access that magic if given the right tools.
Of course this is all bullshit—but not for the reasons you might think.
Yes, magic exists and can be made through a variety of different avenues.
The key, though, is that I have to work it. I have to expect it to work, and hold space for that expectation to come to fruition, and acknowledge my role in making it happen. It’s not that I’m forcing it to happen, or lone-wolfing it. The process is indeed co-creative, in the sense that the magic cannot flow without me. I’m the portal through which it enters my world.
Every time I’ve sat down to meditate or conjure, I’ve unintentionally handicapped myself by splintering off a part of my valuable attention by thinking, “ooh, OK, I wonder if this is really going to do anything?” And that subtraction of energy has killed, or at least seriously diminished, the effectiveness of nearly everything I’ve ever hoped to achieve through my self-directed energy work. Not because of the skepticism, necessarily—but because, in some sense, I force-quit the program before it had a chance to fully boot up. I withheld the resources from the endeavor and then sat back with a mixture of disappointment and resignation when nothing happened.
To use a lame and overextended metaphor: “I planted this seed in the ground, but gave it no water or sunshine. What the fuck, seed? I guess you weren’t ever going to work in the first place, were you?”
I’m not sure when or how or why I started to see the error of my ways more clearly, but it seems incredibly obvious to me now why I’ve been struggling for so long. And it’s not only obvious, but actually exciting, in that I realize now how much power this is giving back to me. Or, not even giving back, just properly illuminating.
If magic doesn’t work without my energy added to it, what does that say about the quality of my energy?!
So, my friends, from my magical little corner or the world to yours, I say to you: declare your independence from any system that robs you of your own inherent power or makes you doubt its effectiveness in any way. Celebrate your freedom to create a life as beautiful and magical and gorgeously improbable as you can imagine.