A Break in the Road: Discerning a New Direction in a Mystic’s Path
There's nothing surprising about finding a spiritual woman toeing the path between God — or rather religion — and the chaos of nature. To have faith in both is a reasonable thing, in fact in my experience one often leads to the other. It is a human thing to want to distinguish between the two, but after the things that I've seen I'm not so sure there is a distinction.
Or rather, I believe that the relationship between the divine and chaos is too complex and beautiful to try to create a binary between the two.
So I suppose my latest urge to do so is less about some intrinsic need to distinguish between the two, and rather a more social need to understand my place in the world. If it can be believed, I have had some rather harrowing experiences with the spirit world, experiences which my lengthy but more eclectic path could not have prepared me for.
Fighting actual demons is a lot more trying on the nerves than communing with peaceful river spirits after all.
Maybe I have a calling. Maybe there's something about me that's more powerful than I could have ever imagined, and that power is simply attractive to all things good and evil. Maybe my ability to see these things, to interact with what some might call ghosts or spirits was inherently going to draw me into darker experiences. I could say that I have gone through the dark night of the soul, so maybe it is inevitable that one who has gone through such things would see opportunities in shadow and in light that others do not — cannot see.
I'm not trying to convince you that I've peered into the abyss and lived to tell the tale, or even that I am a ghostbuster. Really, I think I'm just trying to make sense of experiences that are inherently nonsensical.
I always thought that seeing a poltergeist meant that it would be some incorporeal being slamming doors and throwing plates off of tables, but the real lived experience of it was so much more human and violent than I could have ever been prepared for.
It is a natural thing to wonder, after seeing such things, what the true relationship is between humanity and the conceptual spirit. What happens when one loses connection to it? What happens when someone feeds their demons and nothing else? Do they then become a demon themselves? and what truly is a demon? Most importantly, how do we protect ourselves against forces which we can't see?
Until very recently, I've never felt the need to ask these questions. Until very recently, I didn't think there was a need at all. It's fascinating how one can follow a witchy path and commune with all sorts of spirits and creatures, and still never believe in so many things.
Now I see that that path was beautiful but incomplete. Now, I believe in hell. I've seen it. And like everything else, it was so much more chaotic and terrifying than to simply say ‘someone was bad so they went there’. I imagine heaven is quite the same, too complex to say something so simple as ‘they were good so they went’.
My beliefs themselves have expanded, they encompass so much more now. My personal rituals feel inadequate to the tasks that I feel coming ahead.
I feel as though I'm at a gateway and behind me, with love, stands my witchy, eclectic path perhaps walked as far as it can take me. I think of the rituals that I've done, the focus on the seasons and communing with the spirits of the directions of the dawn and of the dusk, of the forest and of the mountain streams, and in general of the world around me.
I think of how creative and intentional this path was for me. and while I would never leave the lessons that I've learned and the skills that I've gained from the path, I find now that the solitary path alone could not answer the questions that I now have.
The answers to those questions — the possibilities beyond this initiatory gateway — are my future.
Or, at the very least, the expansiveness of the world I've now gained access to is daunting. I simply don't know where to begin, and what I've done before both seems inadequate in terms of ritual and practice and seems in need of review. Perhaps the first step is truly looking at where I came from — the notes that I took, the skills that I was interested in — the way that I thought the world worked, and to see how both myself and that viewpoint has changed.
I need something more powerful than the 8 Sabbaths, something more complex or even esoteric than the full moon scrying rituals. I find myself looking often at medieval alchemical texts and wondering about the writings of occultists of that time. Maybe it's the art style, or maybe the feeling of connection to someone who had the same questions as I now do.
Some people go their entire lives without ever having a spiritual experience, religious people who have never truly felt God, devout people who have never experienced a miracle. I feel as though I should address this to atheist people who don't believe any of this but really I must consider myself lucky, blessed even to have had such a wide range of mystical experiences.
After what I went through — and I know I haven't really talked about what happened, perhaps another post — I don't quite know what a witch is anymore. Nor a sorceress, nor a practitioner — all of these words, these identities, feel like they're missing something. Something I mean to retrieve.
Shamanism is promising I think, but it lacks some of the modern experimentation and curiosities that I've come to enjoy. Maybe a blend of the two — which is to say, a blend of shamanism and modern religious mysticism may be where this path is taking me next.
Whatever this new juncture represents though, it doesn't have to be a complete break with the past. Rather it feels like a maturing, or the beginnings of it. I should focus less on what name to call myself, and more on how I want my practice to make me feel.
In these moments of recovery, no matter what the future holds, I should remember that a sense of wonder and mystical pleasure will always be my priority, that my body is my temple, and that my mind is the citadel of my soul which is why it must be strong. From that foundation, whatever direction I go, I certainly will not fail.
