If you’re reading this column, we’re all still here, or a copy of this magazine has survived the fall of civilization, and some wiser or durable race is sorting through the flotsam and jetsam that remains, like those in the last act of Steven Spielberg’s “A.I.“, and allow me to issue a disclaimer. I’d be the first to admit that this particular column has been composed as a diversion; much as I might wish to have in my possession a specific magikal practice that could ameliorate the many appalling occurrences which bombard us daily, I must admit that neither I nor any magikal practitioner of my knowledge is in possession of the proverbial magic wand to put it all to right.
So I offer up a diversion, and suggest we all might benefit from tapping in to what some might consider a childlike exploration of the world surrounding us (as opposed to the childlike activities of others, i.e. breaking things and making a mess of our surroundings, acting as the tyrant brat).
The touchstone for this column is a recent discovery in the ongoing excavations in Pompeii (you see what I did there, referencing a defunct civilization’s detritus), which has been billed as a sorceress’ kit, disregarding the fact that there would be no way to discern the gender of the one who assembled this collection, but that would be the topic of another column, the embedded cis assumptions in academia, nor would they be something that stimulated Indiana Jones. It was impossible to not agree that this assemblage of small objects related to some magical practitioner. Its very existence and their world view mirrored, across time, my own (and others).
There seems to be a particular matrix, for assembling and assigning meaning, embedded in our consciousness. We share this with other species, especially the corvids, though other varieties of birds participate in this hardwired behavior.
So, as a mental palate cleanser, this would appear to be as ideal a time as any to take a break from doomscrolling. Not that I’m suggesting that we remain as know-nothings, but it’s time to allow for a mental reset. To engage or reengage in having a sense of wonder — something that has been blocked, something essential that we have been distracted away from — and to find a way back to a questioning mind that I hope had been a part of a comfortable and unafflicted childhood.
At the very least, please try to indulge in this mental exercise, going about your daily life with open eyes to the allure of the small. See what truly captures your attention. Allow an unfettered mind to contemplate the particular qualities of small items, which may be used as a touchstone, a nucleus for constructing a mental model of the world; a universe toward which your attention can be honed and your thought processes be brought into focus; a tool to practice, examining the interconnecting tissue of our reality.
Let the spring provide you with a chance to engage, or reengage, in having a sense of wonder, something that has been blocked, something essential that we have been distracted away from.
Be a magpie or a crow going out and about searching the ground for objects that engage your interest, that engage in a peculiar way with your sensibilities, in the way that a younger child might, not in regards to their particular value.
Afterward, treat them as a reference collection for your contemplation, and only then take the time to research the varied importance of the constituent items and their utilization in various magical practices. See whether there is a connecting thread to your discoveries.
Enjoy your trip to the undiscovered country.
