I now know the landscape of the next large-scale ritual work I plan on undertaking. It's a landscape we all think about, possibly once a day, perhaps more often than that. The fact that it is a ubiquitous subject and still holds one of the greatest mysteries known is causing me to consider the implications.
I don't think there's been a single magical working (certainly not public) that has not caused me apprehension or fear. It's healthy. The key is not giving yourself permission to succumb to obsession this early in the creative act. That needs to come later.
I have been contemplating how we create and imagine. The importance of not rushing things. Of taking our time and inviting a form of slow cultivation to occur. Perhaps this is only required for specific collaborations in the sacred realm. Maybe a hard deadline is okay for ideas that feel sinewy and tight. This river is slow-moving and deeper than the ocean, a river of lived experience that is swollen with beauty and suffering. Wonder and magic.
I am aware I am being obtuse. Mystery is where true potentiality exists for us both.
And then a profound and strange occurrence.
I stumbled across the following... a lost script that I have no memory of writing. I found this in an old email folder, I’d emailed the script to myself... and the question becomes how is this connected to what I am about to embark upon?