Magic. I never dared let myself believe in it, even though I always wanted to. But something’s changing.
I had an interesting childhood – isolated from worldly influences but surrounded by nature; devoid of school and friends but immersed in books and solitude. My family life was steeped in religion, control and poverty, yet also permeated with self-reliance, healthful choices and the natural world. One of the rules I grew up with was “no fiction allowed,” which meant I never read the classics that most people are familiar with, although I did learn about many real-life historical figures and how to do a lot of things. (I think my parents didn’t want us to confuse fantasy with reality, even though they believed in a magical being in the sky. But that’s a whole different discussion.)
At some point my parents bought a large Encyclopedia Britannica set, which I eagerly devoured from A to Z. Included as a bonus was a children’s set, illustrated with lots of brightly painted images. Unfortunately, the “F” book went missing soon after its arrival because, you see, F included a section on “Fairytales.” But before it disappeared, I got a glimpse of things like dragons and wizards and fairies. It was like a captivating whiff of a sweet forbidden fragrance. I can still see that purple book with the silly green dragon on the front…
We lived in a 100-year-old log cabin that overlooked a small mountain lake lined with lily pads, its shores home to several beaver families. Hidden in the edge of the forest next to the cabin was a ravine where a little brook babbled its way down to the lake. Only a couple minutes from the back door, it was one of my very favorite places to be. No matter what trouble was happening in the house, I could go sit by the creek and somehow everything felt better. Today I would call it a very magical place.
Back then, however, magical things like the fairies and sprites who played in that pristine wonderland were forbidden as tricks of the devil, so I hid them away in the recesses of my memory. Many times, I went to the creek and forgot about time, emerging hours later with very little awareness of what I’d been doing. You see, there was talk of the devil haunting another family in the area, and I didn’t want my precious secrets misunderstood and lumped together in the same frightful category, so they stayed deeply hidden. Still, I somehow always knew that there was more to the world than the people around me believed, and the unseen rarely frightened me.
Fast forward to the expansion of my world around the age of 17, soon followed by a young husband and child on the way, the shattering of some very big dreams and fulfillment of many others. Life always moves on. The very first movie I ever saw was Return of the Jedi in 1983. It made a huge impression on me because, for the first time ever, I heard someone speak – out loud and without fear – about the unseen world. When the characters talked about the Force, a metaphysical essence that connected all things, every cell in my body rang like a bell. I finally knew there were other people who felt things the way I did! Of course, over the years my ongoing search for “more” led down some interesting rabbit holes, and eventually to the Crimson Circle – the most amazing ‘rabbit hole’ of all.
Even though Tobias’ teachings were everything I’d been looking for, putting into beautiful words many things that I’d always felt, I still wondered, “Where is the magic?” Of course, it was (and still is) incredibly magical to reconnect with Shaumbra and finally share the journey with people who are strange like me. But still, what about real magic? What about the Force? Surely I wasn’t the only one who vaguely remembered … surely it wasn’t lost forever?
I’ve always believed that magic plays such a captivating and pervasive role in human literature and lore because it IS real. Books, movies, songs and stories that include magic are popular because we remember it in our DNA. We just know it’s there. And yet, it’s nowhere to be found in “real life” so we dismiss it as fantasy and wishful thinking. My personal theory is that magic – working with energy in ways not currently understood by physics – was indeed absolutely real. But it became distorted by power games and energy feeding, so we took it away from ourselves through things like the Church with its controls, superstition and persecution. I mean, advertise magic as the devil’s playground, and who wants to risk that kind of trouble? Because we also remember awful things like witch hunts and torture racks and burning stakes. Nevertheless, magic still exists. I’ve sensed it hidden away, dormant in the corners of the past, but now I feel it beginning to stir. Could it be ready to return, reawakened by magicians who’ve gone beyond the power games?
Which brings me to what I really wanted to write about. A few weeks ago, I was working on the latest message from Adamus – maybe it was a Shoud or ProGnost or Master’s Life, I don’t remember – and suddenly an image formed in my imagination. It wasn’t directly related to the words in front of me, but something had triggered it. I saw the difference between a Merlin, which I think of as a wizard, and a Sorcerer, which I associate with power and manipulation. I also saw the great importance of that difference for us as the new Merlins.
When I imagine a Sorcerer, I think of conflict and power. I see someone shooting lightning bolts from his hands, storm clouds gathering as he tries to overpower his enemies. The Sorcerer wants control, casting spells to dominate his realm and working hard to direct the energy toward his desired outcome. Of course, all those spells come back to him eventually (which might have something to do with why we shut down the magic), and the Sorcerer has to be on guard, always watching his back and making sure things unfold according to his will.
The wizard, however – in this internal vision – stands with open hands, drawing energy to himself and letting it flow freely. Merlin the wizard knows that the energy will serve everyone in the most appropriate way, and he is at peace. There is no struggle on his face, no effort in his posture. He’s not pushing the energy, but simply allowing it to flow, hands open wide in trust, receiving and allowing.
I saw Merlin standing in peace and dignity at the helm of his domain, and before him stretched a long line of gracious, smiling servers bringing platters laden with every possible opportunity. Everything was coming directly to Merlin. Each server stood before him and asked, “Would you like to play with this potential? Maybe this one? How about this one?” and he had only to say “Yes” or “Next.” Every potential held a blessing, an experience, an adventure, a bit of magic, and all Merlin need do was receive. Instead of rebuking the servants (or himself) for bringing potentials he didn’t want, he received them all and simply chose which ones to play with.
It’s time now for us to be the Merlin, with open hands that allow, receive and trust. We’ve been the Sorcerer for long enough, using closed hands that control, push, and try. Merlin plays with his own energy, letting it flow and watching it manifest with every new breath. The Sorcerer wants to figure it out, tell the energy what to do, and create a specific outcome. But it’s oh so exhausting, and never worked very well anyway.
In the last Shoud Adamus invited us to begin using a trigger, some word or gesture to remind ourselves to open to our own energy. With that openness, energy flows in rather than out. We receive instead of push. We allow rather than direct. And finally, the magic starts waking up!
One thing I’m sure of is that magic requires absolute trust. You don’t “hope” something will work out, you know it will work out. I’ve had days of absolute chaos, full of meetings, appointments and have-to-do’s. And when I let go of trying to manage the details, I am always left in awe of the exquisitely timed sequence of events! All I have to do is show up and participate. And truly, this synchronistic life is only the tip of the iceberg. We’re opening up to something that, with good reason, has been hidden away for so very long. Soon, all those memories will come flooding back and now, with our hard-earned wisdom and compassion, the magic will be new and free.
How does magic really work? What are we going to do with it? Can I even prove any of this? Well, one of my favorite things Tobias ever said is this: It is real if you allow it to be. With all Adamus’ focus on allowing, what more do we need? It’s time for the magic to emerge from the hidden corners of our memory and for us to finally, truly allow it to be real. A whole new world awaits…