Thanks to Gillian for drawing my attention to this particular Chris Hedges article. Though dire, it’s also quite an unusual post for him in that he recognizes the power of the human imagination. I have been getting the same message lately about the state of our world: things have gone so far beyond what normal “doing” can remedy that it’s time for magic, magick, mgieck … whatever you call it, it’s time to tap in, dig deep, and empower those wands, spells, prayers, and beliefs in miracles.
With all the debate about Second Amendment rights, I’ve done some major soul searching. I don’t own a gun, and I don’t desire to own a gun. I’ve imagined what it would feel like to shoot someone, even in self defense, and to me personally, that just doesn’t feel in alignment with the rest of how I live my life. But neither does powerlessness. As Thomas Jefferson said, “The beauty of the Second Amendment is that it will not be needed until they try to take it.” I don’t believe in remaining a powerless victim; I just prefer to use different means of defending myself.
After much prayer, visioning, study, hope and assessment of the potential road ahead, I bought a magick wand. Hand-crafted of holly, with a silver cord and prehnite stone at the tip, “Freya’s Dawn” came to me synchronously and beautifully. I’ve wanted a wand since 2004, but until a couple weeks ago, nothing ever grabbed me. I thought wands were kind of hokey, unnecessary, and perhaps just weird … but I still felt called to own one. Maybe my inner conflict kept the right wand at bay.
In any case, in my attempts to find and remain in my center despite awareness of some really not-nice things in the works in our country and in this world, I had returned to studying magick in a more intense, dedicated way. All of sudden, the whole purpose and scientific reasoning behind a wand made sense to me! It’s not about me not having the power myself; it’s about focusing that power in a stronger way. It’s not that one can’t do magick without a wand; it’s about amplifying energies. One definition of magic(k) is simply aligning ourselves with the natural harmony of the Universe. We learn how to work with energies, timing, crystals, plants, myths, and stories, rather than accidentally sabotaging our efforts through poor planning. The right wand is kind of like the Power symbol in Reiki — it amps up the energy already flowing through.
I’ve had some powerful manifestations in my life, both with and without wand. For me, personally, I felt like I needed to take the next step in strongly manifesting a new reality. The progress, though tangible, just doesn’t seem to be proceeding at pace with nasty and relentless implementation of the New World Order (as opposed to Natural Order). I choose Natural Order, and I know that Nature always bats last. For some reason, though, having a wand feels like I now have a powerful defensive weapon. Unlike a gun, I can also use this wand to create and empower worlds. And so, I do.
Chris Hedges gives a more intellectual read on this phenomenon, without mentioning wands or magick. As he says, “It is the imagination that makes possible transcendence.” Thank God/dess/goodness, I have a very fertile imagination. May we each dig deep and create beauty and freedom as we feel led. If ever there was a time for the Power of Love to take action, Now would be it. Of course, magicians, mystics and artists know that all Time is Now. We can access peace, prosperity, Love, Grace, and transformation anytime. Sometimes those extra tools just come in handy.
The beginning of Chris’s article follows, with a link to the second page on his site:
The planet we have assaulted will convulse with fury. The senseless greed of limitless capitalist expansion will implode the global economy. The decimation of civil liberties, carried out in the name of fighting terror, will shackle us to an interconnected security and surveillance state that stretches from Moscow to Istanbul to New York. To endure what lies ahead we will have to harness the human imagination. It was the human imagination that permitted African-Americans during slavery and the Jim Crow era to transcend their physical condition. It was the human imagination that sustained Sitting Bull and Black Elk as their land was seized and their cultures were broken. And it was the human imagination that allowed the survivors in the Nazi death camps to retain the power of the sacred.
It is the imagination that makes possible transcendence. Chants, work songs, spirituals, the blues, poetry, dance and art converged under slavery to nourish and sustain this imagination. These were the forces that, as Ralph Ellison wrote, “we had in place of freedom.” The oppressed would be the first — for they know their fate — to admit that on a rational level such a notion is absurd, but they also know that it is only through the imagination that they survive. Jewish inmates in Auschwitz reportedly put God on trial for the Holocaust and then condemned God to death. A rabbi stood after the verdict to lead the evening prayers.
African-Americans and Native Americans, for centuries, had little control over their destinies. Forces of bigotry and violence kept them subjugated by whites. Suffering, for the oppressed, was tangible. Death was a constant companion. And it was only their imagination, as William Faulkner noted at the end of “The Sound and the Fury,” that permitted them — unlike the novel’s white Compson family — to “endure.”
The theologian James H. Cone captures this in his masterpiece “The Cross and the Lynching Tree.” Cone says that for oppressed blacks the cross was a “paradoxical religious symbol because it inverts the world’s value system with the news that hope comes by way of defeat, that suffering and death do not have the last word, that the last shall be first and the first last.” Cone continues:
That God could “make a way out of no way” in Jesus’ cross was truly absurd to the intellect, yet profoundly real in the souls of black folk. Enslaved blacks who first heard the gospel message seized on the power of the cross. Christ crucified manifested God’s loving and liberating presence in the contradictions of black life—that transcendent presence in the lives of black Christians that empowered them to believe that ultimately, in God’s eschatological future, they would not be defeated by the “troubles of this world,” no matter how great and painful their suffering. Believing this paradox, this absurd claim of faith, was only possible in humility and repentance. There was no place for the proud and the mighty, for people who think that God called them to rule over others. The cross was God’s critique of power—white power—with powerless love, snatching victory out of defeat.
Reinhold Niebuhr, as Cone points out in his book, labeled this capacity to defy the forces of repression “a sublime madness in the soul.” Niebuhr wrote that “nothing but madness will do battle with malignant power and ‘spiritual wickedness in high places.’ ” This sublime madness, as Niebuhr understood, is dangerous, but it is vital. Without it, “truth is obscured.” And Niebuhr also knew that traditional liberalism was a useless force in moments of extremity. Liberalism, Niebuhr said, “lacks the spirit of enthusiasm, not to say fanaticism, which is so necessary to move the world out of its beaten tracks. It is too intellectual and too little emotional to be an efficient force in history.”
Niebuhr’s “sublime madness” permits the rest of us to view the possibilities of a world otherwise seen only by the visionary, the artist and the madman. And it permits us to fight for these possibilities. The prophets in the Hebrew Bible had this sublime madness. The words of the Hebrew prophets, as Abraham Heschel wrote, were “a scream in the night. While the world is at ease and asleep, the prophet feels the blast from heaven.” (Click here to continue reading @ TruthDig)