There are six or eight words on my old Goddess list that I've been avoiding addressing here these last few years. And yet, today I feel led to "tackle" magic! And as ever, I'm presenting my personal slant on words and concepts that seem Goddess-related.
The definitions I see in dictionaries and online mostly involve either people calling on "supernatural forces" to create certain outside outcomes, or magicians who have the capacity of achieving remarkable feats, for entertainment sake: pulling doves out of hats, coins out of empty palms, etc. Certainly, growing up in the culture I did, I was occasionally warned not to engage in "magical thinking"; anything outside the norm of working hard in a left-brain, logical, step-by-step way to achieve success was considered suspect. And yet a lot of the "New Age" thinking in recent decades promoted the idea that you could focus your thoughts and become rich. I am probably not the only person who, not having achieved success the old fashioned way, turned to the new way of thinking. Yet that, in the end, didn't work for me either! I think in its own way, it was as duality-driven as the old model.
Here's where I "am" about magic right now. I think the world is covered by an intricate webbing of love. This love is omnipresent and has always existed, the only real creative or sustaining power that exists. However, fear-based models made inroads over the centuries, and most of us were trained to operate in that hard way.
My thought is that when a person is able to be in a sincere, loving place for even a few minutes, it gives the love web around them time to bring more bright, beautiful and loving things their way. The longer we remain in this "place" of love, the more we attract yet more positive things, perhaps even things that to old eyes seem "magical" or miraculous.
This is the story from my own life that I always think of when I think of magic or miracles. About twelve years ago, I managed to get to England, primarily for the goal of doing research about composer Herbert Howells for an eventual article. That I had made it there despite a really rickety life situation was miraculous enough. But an event happened in Howells's home town of Lydney, Gloucestershire that really was magical, because in true "me" form, I had not made any advance arrangements.
I had found Howells's home (at that time, a retail shop), and discovered the small church (only several houses down from there) that the family attended, and where Herbert first took up playing the organ. It was a chilly spring day, and I stood outside the white church with steep cement steps, dearly wanting to go in and see the place with my own eyes. I wondered whether I should try the front door, or whether it would be necessary to call the pastor.
Suddenly, a lovely, tremulous old lady's voice behind me said, "Can I help you dear?" I turned around, and here was a woman, likely in her 80's, dressed in a white raincoat. I explained that I was a fan of Herbert Howells, writing about him, and I was hoping to see the church. "Just follow me," she said. "We are having a Lenten luncheon, and I had to run down to the shops to get some more rolls! Join us for lunch!"
So I followed her to the side door, and we entered a spacious kitchen where a big table was set up and maybe a dozen people were eating a light meal of soup, rolls and cheese. The lady introduced me to all of them, and set some food in front of me, and what ensued was a lively discussion of life in Lydney at the turn of the twentieth century, what the church and town would have been like when Howells was a boy, and ways in which life there has changed. After lunch, they let me wander in the church itself (I think the correct usage in England would be "chapel", as this was not a Church of England congregation.) I saw where the organ was, not original of course, but at least in the spot young Herbert would have played. And in the end, one of the women offered to walk me over to the C of E church where Howells eventually attended and played the organ, and she introduced me to the current rector, who, himself, gave me a tour of that church!
Not once that morning did I call on "supernatural powers" to achieve this outcome. I didn't wave a wand, or cast a spell, or even do any creative visualization. But I was almost oozing with love and happiness as I stood on that English street, and was defined by about 50 years of adoring the music of Herbert Howells. The Universe knew almost better than I did what would be the most wonderful outcome of my short trip to Lydney, and figured out the timing and the right people, creating, literally, something magical.
Love is the way the Goddess works, and how She creates magic and miracles. Even in these perilous times (especially!), these brilliant outcomes will abound. But I think the key is trying to stay in the place of love, not attempting to manifest a certain outcome. "They" (spiritual authors) always say that, but it's hard to do, isn't it?!
