You do not seek magick. Rather, you become it.

Magick cannot be found in the world until you learn to bring it. It is in you, it is your essence- it peeps at you from behind the veil with a secret, knowing smile. Magick is who you are. It lies in wait behind the walls you built. It is buried beneath the soil of conscious thought, resting in the dark- a silent seed longing to sprout and burst forth into your life. It hides itself deep in the cracks of your imagination. It is an elusive, silver fish, darting and dancing in the river of your emotions. It is your birth right, but it will not give itself easily to you.

It requires an offering. It requires that you bless yourself and lay naked on its altar, bathed in salt and oiled with lavender and sage, wrapped in vines, your mind focused to a sharp point with which you will sacrifice all that you were. Incense hangs in the air like a question you cannot bear to answer, and the scent of lilies, and you bow your head and you bring the blade to your neck with shaking hand for you know this moment is irreversible. Some gates lock once you have passed through them.

But if you will become magick, this is the only way.

Silently you bless the one you were, the one who brought you to this place, and you plunge the point of the blade deep into your neck, and you feel the warmth, the wetness as it spreads, and you expand to encompass everything you might be. Everything that Is. You watch your old self slip away, melt into the ether whence she came, and you turn to face the entirety of who you really are. Here is the gate, and as you step through it you are light, and as you step through it, that seed splits, the silver fish turns and speeds in your direction. The gate closes behind you, the veil lifts and you find yourself standing at the centre of the universe in all its terrifying beauty, and you fall to your knees at once in awestruck admiration, and you Are. You Are finally.

What you have become, you may now bring into this world, or any other you should so choose. What you become in this offering is something incomprehensible to those who stand before the gate.

You smile, a secret smile of knowing, and you begin your journey towards the next.

Leave a Reply

art of trauma
%d bloggers like this: