This isn’t quite Druidry
I feel there’s something missing. I’m not a druid, I don’t have an animistic (animist?) belief system where I believe that everything has a ‘spirit’ or is suitable to be talked-to (I’m not going to talk to my spoon as I stir-in the sugar in my coffee, nor am I going to thank the ‘spirits of water’ as I wash my hands). Perhaps that’s exactly what’s missing from my ‘practice’.
But I just don’t believe it, and I’m not going to start out of some fake ‘wannabe’ desire to conform or become somehow more ‘druidic’ in my practice.
Nevertheless, whatever ‘this’ is, it still doesn’t feel like a practice. I have no rituals. I have no beliefs that compel me to interact with or petition something ‘out there’. I don’t believe in some kind of other-world (just yet).
I do, however, feel that sense of connection as my ego-less sense of ‘Chaos re-configuring itself’ makes me perceive Reality-as-a-whole, and become conscious of my significant-yet-insignificant role in all of it.
The fact that it feels ‘missing’ (whatever it turns-out to be) reveals that somehow, somewhere, I have, perhaps erroneously, an expectation that whatever ‘this’ is there should be something more. And I know that feeling is fleeting because there will come another day when I will feel completely filled with conviction that this is right, this is it, this is enough.
But what, in my mind, would a spiritual path consist of, as a practice? I disapprove of, yet reluctantly understand the appeal of, the ‘striving for the unattainable’ aspect of most spiritual paths. Being ‘purposeless’ is disheartening – yet if you believe, as I do, that enlightenment is not only possible but quite possibly easy, then it becomes a pretence to claim that ‘those who say they’re enlightened aren’t‘ – a deliberate moving-of-the-goal-posts just to keep you striving. And I’m sorry to put it this way, but once you know, you know – there’s no fooling someone who’s experienced enlightenment into thinking that wasn’t it. But once enlightened, you still need to do something.
Being totally honest, my lifestyle hasn’t changed since my experience. I haven’t shaved my head, or stopped smoking, or gone vegan. Part of me suspects that my enlightenment experience wasn’t one, or wasn’t enough of one precisely because I haven’t changed.
This isn’t Chaos Magic
I don’t do spells. I don’t send my wishes or intent ‘out into the universe’. I don’t do sigils (other than ‘words’, of course). Magic for me is very powerful yet very mundane and laughably easy at times. I’m only half-joking when I say that pooping is magical: if magic is indeed “the art and science of creating Change in accordance with [your] Will” then it’s no leap of the imagination to see why.
So doing magic is positively inevitable and therefore also is no longer magic.
Yet any act of transforming the imaginary into reality, ideas into things, manifestation in the purest most abstract sense, is bloody magical when you take the the time to appreciate the very fact that you can do so. Do this next time you pick up a pen or a musical instrument or even the next time you move your body. Focus on just how fucking amazing it is to be able to do this thing, focus on the amazeballs feeling of being ‘that which transforms the imaginary into reality’. That’s magic.
This is Chaos Druidry
Well I did say I’d change my mind. After having read “What is the Master? | Ways of the Force” (https://wp.me/p1FAa2-4d) it dawned on me that some of the titles we hold are transitory and arise in passing. To call myself a chaos druid while I’m doing the groceries feels a bit pretentious for example. But while I’m scouring the depths of The Infinite, then it feels a little more appropriate. I don’t want to be a chaos druid every single hour of every single day. It’s exhausting. And I’m not about to bugger-off into the wilderness to lead a life of contemplation just yet. Even the priest removes his cassock when he’s not ‘on duty’.
The article raises a point I have made several times before but in different words: I’ve highlighted that I don’t claim to know more than you, because if everything I tell you is stuff you already know, then it won’t seem like I know much at all to you. The trouble of the question of authority arises when you come across something I claim I know but which you haven’t seen before – you may ask yourself whether you should believe me. But let me stop you right there: do NOT believe me! Instead go out and test it for yourself! And so when someone calls themselves a ‘Master’ or guru keep in mind they can only be that if they know more than you do, and you’ll know that only after testing it for yourself. So the title is given strictly on a personal basis: “this person is my teacher/master/guru” because I judge that a) they say they know things that I’ve never heard of and b) I tested their claims and I came to the same conclusion so deem them true. But once you’ve come to the same understanding as your ‘master’ then, by the very nature of that sameness, they promptly cease to be your ‘master’ so the so-called ‘title’ isn’t one, it’s merely a description of a relationship. And that’s why it makes so much sense that no ‘proper’ master calls themself as much.
I think I may be beating myself up a little too much: it is what it is, and everything I can do to help is good enough because it’s help, which is better than making things worse. Just breathe, and keep on keepin’ on.