We took a trip to our favorite magick shop this evening. Its a lovely store. We’ll go sometimes, even when there’s nothing on our shopping list, just to enjoy the atmosphere. The place oozes with sacred eclecticism, and I’d like to think that such a quality might rub off of me, if I’m open enough.
This evening, however, I was concerned that something else would rub off on me; something less pretty, or fragrant, or mystical. There was a woman in the store who was going on and on about a spirit that was troubling her – plaguing her, she made it sound like – and asking every employee what herb she should burn or what incantation she should recite. She was loud and frantic, and I could feel an erratic, volatile energy coming off of her all the way across the room. Her presence became more and more oppressive to me, and I found it harder and harder to breathe. Whatever she had – an unsavory spirit, or a dark cloud, or some bad mojo – I didn’t want it coming home with me.
The lady made an appointment with the tarot reader for this weekend, purchased her sage, and left.
All the way home I felt tense. I passed if off as impatience with the traffic, but the experience in the shop really bothered me.
But why did it bother me? – that’s what I’m curious about. Was I passing judgement on this woman? Did I think her superstitious, or uneducated, or ignorant of how the spiritual dimensions really work?… Or, did I see something in her that I recognized about myself?
I’ve made more than one trip to my favorite little metaphysical shop looking for some quick-fix magick. I’ve been desperate at times, and clingy, too. I’ve looked to the employees, with their crystals and their dreadlocks, and I’ve been certain that they knew more about what was troubling me than I did; if I could just ask them the right question, they’d tell me what I needed to know to get through this hard patch, or discover the right path, or finally settle into a spiritual practice. I’ve been convinced on more than one occasion that the solution to my problems would come from outside of myself, and I’m not sure I’ve really shaken that way of thinking.
This is something to consider as I engage with the course of study in Kissing The Limitless; how and when have I been overly reliant on the external to address the internal?