Papus: Magic is the science of Love

Magic is crowned, since her task is the sublimation of Nature, as indicated by the shield or coat-of-arms with the eagle in flight, that the Empress holds instead of the book of the High Priestess.

Josephin Peladan defined magic as “the art of the sublimation of man”, no other formula is superior to his. This is exactly the emblem – or aim – of magic, if one understands by “sublimation of man” that of human nature. Peladan had a very profound understanding of the emblem of magic: the shield with the eagle in flight. All his works bear witness to this. Together they represent a magnificent flight; they aim, as a whole and each taken individually, at the ideal of the sublimation of human nature.

It is because Peladan bore the emblem of magic: the flying eagle, that this is so.

Isn’t it to have the emblem of magic before one’s eyes that one is invited “to throw the eagles of one’s desires to the wind”, because happiness “raised to the level of an ideal, freed from the negative aspects of oneself and of things….is the sole triumph of this world?” It is the same emblem – the shield with the eagle – that Papus had in mind, in actual fact, when he defined magic as:

The application of the strengthened human will to accelerate the evolution of the living forces of nature.

He preceded this definition with another:

Magic is the science of love.

For it is precisely “the accelerated evolution of the living forces of Nature” that the eagle of the shield of the Empress represents; “the science of LOVE” is the sceptre of the Empress, which represents the means by which the aim of magic is attained.

Unknown author, Meditations on the Tarot, Letter III, The Empress

Sacred Heartbeat

“What’s the use?” spoke out the Shaman,
“Each set out to meet his maker,
Now on Earth are white-washed spirits,
Blown out minds, who seem as strangers.

“And, I see, the thrall of blissful
States is tempting. Two remain there,
Lying still in deep hypnosis,
Thinking not; they’re quite unconscious!”

Chanted, then, the single Shaman
Words, recalled his greatest magic:
Brought from yonder plane of dreaming
Sages seven from the heaven.

“Make a circle, watch the fire,
Round it form a chain together,
Listen – hear – the holy drum speaks;
Rhythm forms, the sacred heartbeat.”

Thus, they made a single circle
Round the pile of glowing embers,
Let the drums recall the rhythm
Of the heart that time remembered.

“We’re as one.” They spoke in chorus,
“Though the paths we followed differed,
There was but one destination,
Stand united generations.”

The Risen

“What, pray tell, of Baha-ullah!”
Spoke at once the latest wise-one.
“He’s accepted all the others
Gone before; the way is union?”

“This, you see”, revealed the Rabbi,
“Charts a line which roughly follows
Down through time, a line of prophets,
Give or take a right-tongued Sophist.

“Eastern influences flourished
In our land, but naught surpasses
Now – or ever – true Kabbalah,
Gnostic scripts were ne’er so magic!

“Not so!” claimed the Vedic master.
“Ours, the early bird of progress
`May pass through the stages faster,
Incarnating ever after.

“Vishnu, here, the force outstanding,
Krishna, there, the force transcending,
Both appear within our scripture,
Bhagvad-Gita; song unending.”

“What of us,” cried out the pagans,
“Surely we’re the lords of mystery?
Since the early days of Egypt,
We’ve survived the Western history!”

“Those who claim that resurrection
Is the sole preserve of prophets,
Born beyond the ancient’s time line,
Listen well, and don’t forget it:

“Old Osiris: dead then risen;
Great Demeter’s daughter: risen;
Dionysus next was risen,
Then the Orphic bard was risen!”

Things take so much Time

As her eyes ran over the black and white plates of the book, the two in the room became increasingly attuned to the music playing between them. In his mind it grew louder, recalling to him the daughter of memory.

She reached out a hand for the volume button and pushed it higher. Lush electronic sounds swelled like waves and a soft, angelic voice swept over them on the breeze.

A brief history of time unfolded in his fathomless mind.

She was wearing golden sandals, shoes that were paid-for by her father, together with a light coloured dress. Around her wrist was a bracelet full of charms and with his bright, ancient eyes, he saw that the necklace at her throat was made from the stuff of magic; a gift from her mystery-loving mother.

Over 2,400 years had passed since they had been this close. On that occasion the moon had been perfectly halved by the shadow of the Earth, and Jupiter was at the same point in its orbit as it would be in three and a half hours, that self-same night.

He looked over his shoulder and nodded to the gigantic sphere, which turned through the fragile cosmos by an intricately complex, haunting melody. Both of them saw with the eye of their mind that a gateway had opened in the ether.

Suddenly aware of time, she picked up her mobile phone and studied its display. It was only half past 9.00.

Strange.

Normally she felt this way much later in a given day. The force was usually been strongest between 1 and 2, she mused earnestly, casting aside the book.

She had never quite realized why.

Things take so much time