Most people only know and expect from magick what they have seen on television and movies, or what they have read in fictional stories. They expect lots of special effects, both visually astounding and sometimes noisy. They expect instantaneous reactions from magickal incantations and would be satisfied with no less. To most people, if magick does not meet the above criteria, it is not magick.
They would be wrong.
Real magick works in its own way and in its own time…no special effects, no drum rolls, no flashes of light, and most of the time no melodrama. It works quietly, pervasively, discreetly, with sometimes surprising and unexpected results.
As an example…
There is a streetlight located in the neighbor’s backyard, far back in the southwest corner. I have hated this light with a passion for years. I like to go outside at night and bask in the moonlight or swim in the darkness of night, feeling the full effects of this magickal time. My children like to take their telescope out on a dark summer’s eve and visit the stars.
All of this is very hard to do when you are under the spotlight of an obnoxious mega watt lightbulb. We have cursed it many a time under our breath.
Last summer I decided to take matters into my own magickal hands and banish this light. The spell was cast, the curse of banishment spoken, the wand and finger pointed, the feet stamped, the candle set alight, the spell burned, the herbs spread, the Goddess invoked.
I felt within me a quiet sense of satisfaction.
The next night…
There was the light in all its inglorious obnoxiousness. I could almost hear it laughing in triumph, ‘Thought you’d get me, did you!’ And it continued to shine upon us and our entire yard for the rest of the summer, into autumn. I began to ponder the situation, wondering what I may have done wrong, or what I may have overlooked in the magickal texts.
Winter came and spring finally broke through and transformed the world.
I stepped out into the backyard one cool spring night, bracing for the bright light to hit my face…but it didn’t. Our yard was full of deep blue darkness and black shadows and puddles of silver moonlight.
Surprised, I turned in the direction of the streetlight to discover that over the winter, the old tree in the neighbor’s yard had experienced a transformation. Its branches had grown incredibly during the winter months and were now lush and full of thick green foliage.
The old storm battered tree had, in fact, grown so much that it overshadowed and hid the streetlight.
This is magick.