Throw the map away. Tear it in half. Burn the pieces. The delicate art of becoming lost reveals that which is hidden. To seek the edge we need to wander beyond the confines of what we remember, recall, know and are certain of.
It's quite possible to become lost within the bounds of a ritual, to forget and lose track of the instigating force that set you off on your journey, to lose grasp of your original intent. This is not as dangerous as it might appear. It's not a subject I've spoken about before, it's a very specific experience that I'm sharing, it is perhaps a reflection on my own practice and how that overlaps with the acknowledgement that my work has nearly always had an intent that exists in relation to my path. And how a great deal of the actual magical processes I utilise have become internalised, and exist as an intermediary force between my life and how I engage with the world.
Over the course of my work and the development of my practice, I have been blessed/cursed to engage in the creation of rituals that have taken years to fully enact and manifest. I am not talking about a working that you return to, on and off for a number of years. I'm speaking of working continuously in one ceremony, until it is completed.
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