You could probably say this most days, but there’s a fantastic post over at the Secret Sun at the moment regarding re-enchanting every day life.
This hits me right where I live.
Over the last twelve months, some popular threads of magical discourse have become a bit too baroque for my tastes. No reason for it. These things, like all things, go in trends.
This has so far largely been a quiet year up in our blogz but one that has also been populated with some spectacular, genuinely “new” writing.
So sure, I read along in a state of genuine fascination but not with the intention of deploying it in any dedicated way. It just isn’t my bag.
And maybe that’s changing. It’s refreshing to see that over the last little while RO and Jason and others appear to be exploring a return to First Principles. Fingers crossed it catches on across the rest of our internets.
Because it means a conversation is starting that I think a lot of us can finally return to.
Maybe I’m a simpleton and the more baroque techniques are beyond my puny mental skills? Maybe I should just sit back down at the special table with my bright, broken crayons and let the big people talk? The gods know I have copped a lot of flack for my particular attitude or the contents of my little shop and certainly for my phraseology here but the world really fucking is awesome.
What need have I with Spheres and Levels and such when English apples are in season?
Re-enchantment, to me, is about layering bigger, better, brighter narratives into our daily existence. (Consider that literally “re-enchanting” is “re-singing”.)
From Chris’s post:
This kind of magical thinking– the more common definition of magical thinking is just plain old craziness in my view– is needed now more than ever. I think what is happening to the economy and the culture has to do with a collapse of confidence, brought on by all kinds of bad habits that I still don’t really understand the genesis of, never mind the appeal.
And a bit later:
That’s self-evident to most of you out but the point is that fixing this mess and beginning the re-enchantment process all starts with dialogue. It all starts with someone saying, “hey, we need to make magic happen again because this effing world is intolerable without it,” and hopefully that thought will eventually go viral.
For me, magic is a collection of moments where the universe is truly universal. It’s superfluous whether these moments are somehow linear or rationed out like dog treats once you pass a certain level of advancement. The mechanics of just how this might work have never been demonstrated to me in an agreeable way. Let’s instead say we re-enchant the world on a moment-by-moment basis.
And I collect these universal moments. I collect them like fireflies. This is why I like chaos magic. Because I can’t use a big torch. It just doesn’t fit in my crayon-stained hands. I need a jar of little lights to light my way.
Big Stories? Can’t use them. Grand Narratives? They dissolve in my head like baby teeth dissolving in Pepsi.
But little moments? Little, stolen moments of synchronicitous chaos? Little, pointless, bright moments like sitting next to someone on a plane who used to ignore your hero? Sign. Me. Up.
What do these moments mean? Is the universe now paying particular attention to little ol’ me? Have I crossed the Abyss? Am I Enlightened™ now?
Who the fuck cares?
There’s plenty more space in the jar. Magic, for me, is a way of being in a re-enchanted world. It’s not a race. It’s not a children’s beauty pageant. Beyond meditation and energy body work, I can -and do- go months without any practical spell work but surely that means my life is more magical rather than less? Otherwise why would it need correcting?
“But Gordon, what of this apocalypse you seem so oddly fond of?”
That’s just the starting point. That’s just the conditions on the road and you should always drive to the conditions. It doesn’t mean the fireflies aren’t out there to be chased.
We talk about the apocalypse because the rules are changing. You don’t want to be playing netball when everyone else is playing golf.
It’s your jar and no one else’s
I like my life. Sure, it’s filled with disappointing, painful crap like everyone else’s but it has some great parts.
It has a partner who loves me. It has wine. It has Paris. It has Ocado. It has the new series of Archer that has recently started.
These are the good bits but they aren’t the fireflies. The fireflies are those moments when you get a glimpse of something Greater. It’s like walking past the Creator’s kitchen and just catching a whiff of whatever’s cooking. You don’t recognise it but it smells amazing. And you’re comforted because it’s good to know that something is going on behind the scenes somewhere. Someone has a recipe and a seating plan.
Fireflies are both the oddly synchronicitous moments that make you realise something is up on planet Earth but they are also the incidental indicators of your success. If you enchant to find a job that takes you to a place you have never seen before and you catch a moment of perfect stillness over the Po River how is that not a magical moment? How is the baby you cooked up with the spouse you found through a love spell not magical?
This is how you re-enchant your world. By weaving magic into every day thinking, into every day moments, until the distinction between them is utterly erased and the only things left are the fireflies.
And they shall be your torch on the Dark Road.