To practice magic,
one must be scrupulously honest,
for magic works on the principle that
“It is so because I say it is so.”
-- Waverly Fitzgerald
That was a time when words were like magic.
The human mind had mysterious powers.
A word spoken by chance
Might have strange consequences.
It would suddenly come alive
And what people wanted to happen would happen —
All you had to do was say it.
To bring our will into harmony with the sacred law is to understand our life
purpose. Why am I here, what are my gifts? Human life is a great
opportunity. Each one has particular gifts, a unique role in the circle.
Conscious will becomes manifest as one dedicates one’s gifts for the benefit
of family, clan, nation, all beings.” -- Dhyani Ywahoo
In sea foam, in swirlings and imaginings I am fish, tadpole, crocodile. I am
an urge, an idea, a portent of impossible dreams. I lie between heaven and
earth, between goodness and evil, patience and explosion . . . I have always
been here, a child in the silence of things, ready to wake at any moment.
I am possibility.
What I hate is ignorance, smallness of imagination, the eye that sees no
farther than its own lashes. All things are possible. When we speak in
anger, anger will be our truth. When we speak in love and live by love,
truth in love will be our comfort. Who you are in limited only by who you
think you are.
There are words that exist only in the mind of heaven, a bright knowing, a
clear moment of being. When you know it, you know yourself well enough. You
will not speak. I am a child resting in love, in the pleasure of clouds. I
read the book of the river. I hold the magic of stones and trees. I find god
in my fingers and in the wings of birds. I am my delight, creator of my
destiny. It is not vanity.
There are those who live in the boundaries of guilt and fear, the limits of
imagination. They believe limitation is the world. You cannot change them.
There is work of your own to do. You will never reach the end of your own
becoming, the madness of creation, the joy of existence.
Dance in the moment. Reach down and pull up song. Spin and chant and forget
the sorrow that we are flesh on bone. I return to the rhythm of water, to
the dark song I was in my mother’s belly. We were gods then and we knew it.
We are gods now dancing in whirling darkness, spitting flame like stars in
the night . . .
-- Normandi Ellis
The only way to discover the limits of the possible is to go beyond them, to