Magic Isn't For Idealists

My first serious attempt at magic to change my world was a love drawing mojo. I selected a number of appropriate materia magica and used a pendulum to divine which ones to put in the mojo.

The name Michael came to me. Michael was the spirit of the mojo whose job it was to bring me love. And did he. Disastrously. It actually did work like magic - on two women. One was an employee at a local business. I went in, asked her assistance in my purchase, joked with her, got home, and she had contacted me on facebook - she had gotten my name off of my debit card. I made the mistake of telling her about my mojo eventually. That relationship ended very badly after around 2 months - my shortest relationship ever, and one that would cause me intense pain and sorrow for many more months. 

This wasn't the spirit's fault. As I heard someone say recently, just because a spirit gets you something, doesn't mean you have to take it. I fell hard for that woman, but she never fell for me. She was momentarily charmed by me. I was brought an opportunity for love - not the only opportunity brought by Michael, and I screwed both up. Big time.

We tend to have this idealistic view of the world, that whatever happens is for the best. Fate, destiny. God knows best, and he has us where he wants us. Magic is not for those type of sit-down people. Magic is for practical people who want to create their world.

Disaster looms, as is at the foot of the Zero Trump. To muck about with your own consciousness, your own immediate world, and infinite possibilities of future worlds, this takes first and foremost, balls. The Fool, in older depictions, had his balls out, which a cat was in the midst of pouncing at. The cliff was in front. The Fool is about to die the death. The Black Work. Nigredo. Putrefaction. The point of extreme despair, to kill off everything that has been preventing development as a person, as a magician. 

Back to this night of Venus. I've learned a thing or two in my sorcerer's apprenticeship. I'm taking the remains of that old mojo, and I'm creating a very special working. In a way, I'm honoring it, recognizing its value. I got what I wanted, and it destroyed me, and ended up being what I needed. The paradox is that fate doesn't happen but by free will. If you want to make your ideas real, you must act on them. When you act on them, everything changes, broadens, expands. The paradigm from whence your ideas spring is altered.

Nobody is going to save you. You are the master of your fate. You are the captain of your soul. This is the reality. You can sit high and smugly pretending to be content with your ideas of the world, or you can set out to conquer. Zephyrus and I are making haste across the 7 seas to see and seize.