I like to talk often about my weariness with causality and the need to explain everything and justify everything according to some presupposed linearity that moves us from A to B.
What is a fact is that we move, but hardly ever from A to B, and almost never do we move from A because B happened. The reason why I don’t like causality is because even if it really existed, it would still mean absolutely nothing in the face of things changing all the time. Any physicist worth his salt would concur here. Now the black hole is making the rounds, having us all ponder: ‘But what does it mean?’
Astrophysics has its shifting answers. And then there’s the general bottom-line that stays: Things change. The fact that things change changes the way we look at causality, namely, with less anxiety and less excitement.
I don’t go around thinking, ‘whoa, I got to do this or that because this or that will land me this or that job, or deal, or lover,’ and so on. That is called projecting into a future that doesn’t exist other than as pure fantasy in my head.
Conversely, I don’t go around saying to myself that I have to dig into the past, and waste time with this or that trauma that only my unconscious can remember. What I do is look at myself in the mirror, check with my breathing – I’m still breathing – and then check with my mind: ‘What new fiction are you concocting today?’ I ask it, and then I expect my face to produce a smile that then turns into hilarious laughter.
There’s something thoroughly liberating in knowing that I need no truth or authenticity to seek, for all is true already if my language of desire AND detachment makes it so. Pertaining to this, you may want to see my newsletter sent out today to the people following The Art of Reading offerings, where I advance the radical claim that all magical ritual are death rituals for the simple reason because they operate with truth. As they say, ‘only the dead speak the truth’.
The point is that when you detach, you detach from points of identification with that which you formulate a desire for. This is the backbone for successful magic.
When attachment leaves the building, what enters your life is intention AS freedom, not as something that keeps you tied to your daily obsessions with being rich and famous, loved and liked, connected and content, proud and powerful.
Oy veh, so much energy is wasted in identifications . . . Imagine being free of all that.
As the course Cards and Magic 3.0 is open for registration right now – a completely revamped course – I’ll share there an older coin ritual that I devised some time ago, just to give you an idea as to what we’ll be up to in the class, in addition to introducing students to deadly rituals that are inspired by what the Chaldeans were thinking, with references also to Egypt, China, Western esotericism, Nordic and Balkan magic. A lot, but dead on point.
Suppose you want money for Cards and Magic. Here’s a ritual based on the Visconti Sforza cards:
Page of Coins, Queen of Coins, 7 Coins
Get a red string of about 3 feet and 6 coins with a hole in the middle.
Tie each coin to the string and make a knot between each coin. Hang the string of coins on the wall perpendicularly.
Take a chair and place it with its back to the string. Sit on it with a 7th coin in your hand and hold it in front of your eyes.
Say these words:
The money I look at and wish for, I already have and hold in my lap. Let my transactions be as straight as the red string behind me.
Now turn around and tie the 7th coin to the top of the string, and spit on it. For good luck.
For the poetically inclined, I give you here an interesting statement by W.B. Yeats. It shows that, in magic, we’re all connected, coins, horses, and stars.
‘I have seen somewhere a series of illustrations showing first a coin with a horse, then later coins where the same horse breaks up into meaningless blobs until at last a designer turns the four blobs that were once legs into the spokes of a wheel. The passage I have quoted from Empedocles [On Nature, Burnett p. 226] had probably some relation to the diurnal movement of the heavens, or to planetary movements, but one cannot guess what the relation was, so little of his system has survived. Such a system is the horse upon the first coin, and the system I am about to describe the wheel that takes its place’. (Yeats MS, National Library of Ireland 36,272/6/1a, leaf 2)
You may also want to check the Patheos essay in two parts, 22 Trumps According to the Question, as it’s a seminal, method text that gives insight into how you can sharpen your voice when you read the cards. Part One here, and Part Two here.