Please, ignore the rantings and ravings of the people in your life who tell you that you're too strange or weird or new-agey or freaky. Those without mystical sight tend to see the worst in people who have it. They always have and they always will.
Having mystical sight doesn't mean your eyes work differently; it means that your heart works differently. It means that incomprehensible portions of "you"- portions so strange as to first be encountered as seemingly separate from "you"- work differently. They are active, awake on some level, and they invade your dreams and your waking life. You didn't choose for them to be there; we don't really write these stories we call our lives.
Please, embrace the extraordinary powers, don't fight them. It's not courage to reject them; it's courage to accept them. We human beings are servants of holy powers, of different powers, of extraordinary powers, no matter how much we may have lost sight of this fact. It was always our destiny to be so. I don't mean "servant" in any negative, groveling sense. I mean a person who serves the needs of this sacred whole, and is in turn served by it. There is no "higher" or "lower" or "lesser" or "greater", truly- though I sometimes use those words with poetic intent. Those who are meant to understand will.
I have always had a mystical spin on my writings, and I have drawn the ire of many in the "pagan" world of the modern day- such that it is- on account of it. But my writings have, from the beginning, been job ads, spiritual classified ads, aimed at the few people I knew would read them and understand. Everything I write says "mystics needed"- and you are needed.
The great religions of our world were born in mysticism, even the ones whose births were also accompanied by corruption. The seeds of the "big faiths" are all deeply, intensely personal spiritual experiences that far exceeded the ordinary. Whether it was a cave full of angels or a god-man risen from the dead, or visions of sacred beings in the middle of the wilderness, something occurred that echoed down through the ages.
Whole cultures have been shaped by their power, and by the other powers of human selfishness and greed. And through it all, something vital about us has endured- in art, romance, love, invention, and poetry. We can't be trapped forever.
Our "new" religious movements need mystical seeds planted, if we want to survive into the future. Our gardens were poisoned, but their plants did not die utterly; they turned inward and grew within the unseen, still alive in people's hearts, passed down from generation to generation in some hidden power that silently accompanied people. Finally, when the conditions were right, they came back to bud above ground.
We are buds, seedlings, and sprouts. And now, the rain needs to come. We have some sunlight, we have some darkness, we have good soil, but we need rain, we need water. We need to go into the deep to find a well for the irrigation we need.
So, I need mystics who are willing to sink- to sink to the depths, to the super-essential darkness that unites all things and in which all things have their true roots, and bring back fresh mystical insight and power. We have to reach a place that language can't reach. The darkness is there; it stands still and quiet and potent behind all myths and powers and true religious experiences. The sound of its shuttle and loom creeks through the space between stars and from the bottoms of our dreamy nights.
We're right to feel that something is missing from our lives, that something is concealed, or has been forgotten- but the path to healing starts when we realize that the "missing" is just a perception (albeit a foul one) and what has been concealed or forgotten can be uncovered and remembered. That's where you have to start.
Rilke said "Yet no matter how deeply I go down into myself, my God is dark, and like a webbing made of a hundred roots, that drink in silence."
There's something to this- perhaps the most important thing; the true Underworld regression and initiation; the journey back to the source of things. We are not "new agers" who are bereft of authentic tradition and some supernatural authority to believe as we do; we are not malcontents and spiritually rebellious children; we are humans, and therefore automatically in touch with the most precious, powerful things which underpin all human religions. We have a place, but we have to water it, make it a "green and good land".
The springs of water are below. There is a darkness and silence we have to merge with and integrate before we can celebrate who and what we are in the light of day, and with words and images. If you start too early, you lose interest, because real power isn't there. It's shallow. But the waters of the source run deep. They run back to the body of Fate, whose story we are all a part of.
All of our religious practices and beliefs play a role in the unfolding of things- none of our time or effort is wasted. But we will waste the chance to power and authenticity we could have if we don't sink down to the depths to refresh ourselves and make the "second order change" we have to make to become worthy vessels of a new era of spirituality. What the Pagan religions and spiritualities were in the past is not what they are destined to be again- they can be something greater, through us. Nature is always renewing things, sending them forth to greater and more intense forms of expression. This is no different. We are no different.
This is a call to a real vocation. It's a job posting, an opening that needs to be filled. Please consider coming to the first interview.
Somewhere between savage and civilized... with as many friends among birds and four-legged creatures as the two-legged beings of his own type. Not well adjusted to noise, crowds, or garish lights; at home in front of a glowing hearth with a cup of mulled cider. Smiles at times deemed "inappropriate". Politically incorrect and sometimes painfully honest. In love with steep hills and the twilight sky. Gentle with family and loyal to friends. Pursuer of the White Stag. Believer in the Gods and the Ancestor-Spirits. At times, poet.
"Song of the Old Wanderer" is a blog devoted to expressing the moods, feelings, opinions, and religious experiences of myself- Cuan- a modern-day Pagan, and my friends and family. Together, we follow a contemporary religion or life-way (called only "The Ancestral Way") which is inspired by and shaped from the legends, history, and poetry of the ancient peoples of Ireland and Britain.
The Ancestral Way is a modern "way of being" which is based partly on what we can read and infer about the older cultures of the ancestors, and partly on what inspirations the spirit of these older "ways of being" can make flow in us today.
"The tides of Blossom have begun to flow. The land soon will be inundated. Already a far and wide forethrow of foam is flung along the blackthorn hedges. Listen . . . that chaffinch's blithe song comes from the flowering almond!"