Subtle powers sought for the purpose of manipulating reality are traditionally called ‘magic.’ Magic can be understood as the exercise of the power of the invisible over the visible world. All forms of magic assert that the subtle rules the dense, or consciousness determines the shape of matter. According to Underhill, magic always involves the use of will, whereas mysticism is the surrender of the soul to God in love. Mysticism is a science of pure Being. There is a willing surrender of selfhood to the advance of love; a stilling of the ‘I, Me and Mine,’ which is linked by sense desires. It is love that gives worth to being, and the mystical revelation that God is love is the sacred knowledge that can be transformed into wisdom. Underhill writes, ‘The true mystic sees Reality in its infinite aspect; and tries, as other artists, to reveal it within the finite world. He not only ascends, but descends the ladder of contemplation; having heard ‘the uninterrupted music of the inner life,’ he tries to weave it into melodies that other men can understand.’…..Frances Vaughan
the fiery kiln of our own imaginations can bring forth entire worlds unmet, uncensored, unveiled……follow that daydream into a descent of sacred surrender……wisdom calls us into unexpected exile…
Apart from all religious considerations, there is actually and literally more life in our total soul than we are at any time aware of. The whole drift of my education goes to persuade me that the world of our resent consciousness is only one out of many worlds of consciousness that exist, and that those other worlds must contain experiences which have a meaning for our life also; and that although in the main their experiences and those of this world keep discrete, yet the two become continuous at certain points, and higher energies filter in…..William James
Why do we find it so hard to believe
in things we cannot see?
Perhaps it’s that we’ve grown too old
to welcome mystery.
We’ve grown to trust our eyes too well
And forgotten what’s behind-
The land of faith and fairy tales
borne in the sweet child-mind.
But fairies haven’t fled, my dear-
They’ve been here all the while.
Hiding closer than you think
And watching with a smile.
A fairy’s breath still brings to us
A blossom’s sweet perfume.
A fairy’s glow still brings a light
to a darkened, empty room.
And what about that sense of calm
That visits from the blue-
The sudden feeling we are loved
That fills our hearts anew-
What of the out-of-nowhere tune
That springs our step along?
These are the fairy kisses, dear-
Those are the fairy songs.
So listen closely as you walk
Through woods on winter’s eve-
And pay no heed to those who say
that dreamers are naive-
For fairies dwell among us still,
Though seldom in our sight.
They paint the grass with morning snow
And light the stars at night.
The fairy world still hums with life,
But only faith can free it.
So do believe in what you cannot see-
And maybe then you’ll see it.