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In order to avoid rotting the "what drew you to magic?" thread, I thought I'd splinter this conversation off.
Neon Snake said:
I've done very little outside of divination, sigilization, and some stuff with making charms from runes. I've not ventured into any of the stuff some of you guys do with gods and the like; that scares me a bit too much, and also I'm not sure I'm ready to believe in that yet.
I said:
"Going off topic slightly, but I'm interested in the "I don't believe in Gods/Spirits/whatever" thing when it comes from people who otherwise are interested or involved in other things that get classed as "magic". I often think its almost a semantic difficulty, because for me the reality of the Powers I work with is self-evident in nature and there's not really much suspension of disbelief involved or required. I think there's often a misunderstanding that the Gods exist as these sort of Marvel comics-type beings in another dimension, which I could understand someone having a hard time believing in the literal existence of. Whilst the Gods and Spirits I work with do have definite personalities, these personalities are generally illustrative of the force of nature they represent and how it is expressed in human terms in an "as above, so below", microcosmic/macrocosmic sort of way.
So for instance, Shango, associated with fire, thunder and lightning, has a fiery and passionate personality. His devotees will tend to have similar natures, and there is a complex of emotions, ideas and experiences that are said to be of the nature of Shango - all of which come back to an observation of fire, thunder and lightning in nature. He is power, virility, masculinity, passion, dancing, excitement, drumming. From these ideas, his personality emerges, and his service is a way of recognising and honouring our own fiery natures, our own passion. How we can be like a tempestuous thunder storm, how we can be like a flash of lightning, how we can be like a blazing fire. Shango IS all of these things, in nature and in us, and when you interact with him as an Orisha, you are not really being asked to "believe in" something so much as giving a name to a certain aspect of nature that is reflected in human experience and honouring it under the name of Shango. We need to anthropomorphise abstract principles in order to better feel an emotional connection to them, and the business of interacting with Gods and Spirits through devotional practice is like a language for opening a more direct dialogue with very real facets of our existence and principles of nature that we actually deal with all the time.
I've just come back from the river. I went down to the banks of the Thames in my lunchbreak and made offerings for Oshun. She is the Orisha of love, joy, pleasure, sex, luxury and all of the good things that make life worth living. She is the Queen of the River, and owner of the "sweet waters" that we can drink. You can easily see how her other attributes are directly derived from an observation of the river, the beauty of the river, its replenishing, life giving properties, its winding course, its hidden currents. By studying the nature of the river, you learn something of the nature of Oshun and her mysteries. One of her titles is "owner of the fan", and standing up on waterloo bridge on a beautiful summer's day and feeling refreshed and cooled by the gentle breeze coming off the river, is the heart of this mystery.
I think what I'm trying to say is that the Gods are perhaps better thought of not as these abstract fictional characters that we must invest belief in the literal existence of, but as very real facets of our experience both within nature and within our own being (which is a part of nature) that the language of deity assists us in describing, understanding and honouring in our lives. This doesn't make them "less real", and it's not really a clinical reductionism that demotes Deity to subroutines of our subconscious mind either. It's more a way of recognising the inherent magic and mysteries of nature, and how these mysteries are directly reflected in our own nature and the experiences available to us as human animals. Does that make sense?"
Neon Snake said:
You seem to be saying that, given that I have expressed an interest and am involved in magic, why is such a stretch to believe in gods? Do I have that right?
That's not quite what I was trying to put across. I totally understand why it is often a stretch to take the step of investing belief in Gods, as I've been there myself. But having taken the leap to experiment with this stuff, and lived on the other side of that for almost a decade, I don't really see spirit work as irrational or that hard to swallow anymore. I actually see it as a really down-to-earth pragmatic language for interacting with nature and our own being. A tool kit for processing a certain rather fundamental aspect of our human experience, which we as a species - certainly in the west - have largely forgotten how to use. It's a process for opening a dialogue with very real facets of our experience, but generally gets misunderstood as this far-fetched and fanciful D&D-type thing that is difficult for anyone with a healthy scepticism to go anywhere near.
Ramsey Dukes/Lionel Snell has some really interesting material on how the human brain just finds it easier to comprehend things in anthropomorphic terms, which can be illustrated by the way people give names to their cars or to the office photocopier, etc. So I think that the language of describing these various swathes of our human experience as Gods, can have a quite rational reading as just that: a language or medium for interacting with something that is otherwise a bit elusive and difficult to fully apprehend. The business of making offerings and devotions, and the whole paraphernalia of altars, candles, incense, offerings of food and drink, prayer, drumming, symbolism, etc... Could be thought of as the medium through which this sort of dialogue takes place - like an artists materials, these attributes are the paint and canvas that you use to communicate your message and elicit a response from whichever area of self or nature you are reaching towards.
I think its perfectly possible to construct a fairly rational reading of these practices, but you actually get the best results if you keep this sort of intellectualising around the subject out of it - at least while you're in the heat of the magic. There can be time for that afterwards, but if you are working with this sort of material it is better to approach it in fairly literal terms. I really think that it's the instinctive animal part of the brain that is the magician, not the conscious rationalising brain, and the former seems to respond best when these things are framed and approached quite literally - rather than with a sort of knowing post-modern distance. I find that its most constructive to not really get into this whole deconstruction of what the Gods and Spirits may or may not be. I refer to these elements of my experience as "The Mysteries" as they are exactly that. We can never really know *for sure* what these Gods and Spirits actually are, but to paraphrase Crowley: if you perform certain actions, certain results will follow. I think it's important to maintain a healthy scepticism towards one's practice, whereby you exist in that liminal space where you are quite happy to entertain either the purely rational lens on your practice or the full-blown witchdoctor shaking a bone rattle in the cemetery at midnight animist shaman hat - depending on the utility of the belief in a given set of circumstances.
I hope some of this is making sense. It's really difficult to express the qualitative core of the experiences that spirit work tends to produce, but I guess that's my daily struggle as a writer!
I'm not ruling anything out; however, I have a 'magic' rule in my head that I have to experience something myself (or be presented with reasonable proof) before I buy into it.
I think maintaining that perspective throughout your experiments with magic is totally invaluable. I'd even push it further and say that it's important to keep your options open - even in the face of seemingly mad break-the-laws-of-physics evidence for magic - that you might in some way be unconsciously complicit in a magical interpretation of events that could also be framed through a more rational lens. You have to keep that inner sceptic somewhere in the background, or else you leave yourself wide-open to uncritically taking on board all manner of unhealthy delusions and problematic beliefs. Ultimately, the real test of any aspect of one's magical practice is: regardless of what may or may not be happening "behind the scenes" and regardless of the narrative you may have constructed to describe your empirical experience, is this stuff benefiting you in some way? Is it healthy? Is it, in some sense, improving the quality of your life or your understanding of what it means to be a human being breathing air on the planet? Is it making you happy? Is it promoting positive transformative change? And if for some reason it isn't, what can then be done to tweak your working models and preferred narratives so that they function more healthily. |
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