The Brigantii Moot

I had a dream of the future which many friends considered unreal, dangerous, unattainable. But I went ahead and made that future happen.

I believe magick takes place in the spaces between the atoms, between the worlds and galaxies – the ‘no man’s land’ of void is anything but, instead being the area in which dreams, ideas, inspirations are transmitted, moulded, made real. So, for me, in a very real and I believe practical as well as spiritual way, I see what we reference as ‘real’ in our lives emerging from the ‘unreal’, or the unknowable – the cauldron of our lives.

People often talk of ‘plucking ideas from the air’, showing, to my mind, an instinctive understanding that air – or rather, perhaps, the immaterial – is in fact the means by which thought is transmitted and translated into action. Air, or void, or whatever you want to call it, is a vehicle for the living and the dead to make use of. We don’t know the code to access inspiration, unfortunately; it just happens or rather, I think we bring inspiration to ourselves subconsciously and by acting as attractors for souls who can teach us and who we can teach in this life. By souls I mean both the living and those we might term ‘guardian angels’ or ’spirits of place’ or, simply, guides.

I can concur with that wonderful quote by Nietzsche that I ’should only believe in a God that would know how to dance’. And I do. Monotheistic patriarchal religions seem to have been founded by people who experienced stern and remote, unloving fathers here on earth and that isn’t surprising if you think about the times and geographies in which those religions were spawned – harsh, brutal places where survival was the overriding concern.

But going further back, or sideways across the planet, you find countries with lush green grass, trees, abundant water and wildlife – countries such as Britain, Ireland and France – where the bounties of nature led to spiritual beliefs which were less about survival and more about celebration.

The mystery is how dour belief systems of patriarchal oppression ever took off here, though of course it’s not really a mystery because I know how that happened – through political subterfuge, murder, scheming and brutal conquest, followed by subjugation of the masses and sweeping destruction of the totemic externalities of pagan beliefs, such as the Druid’s sacred groves.

There was a time when people danced with joy for life itself, when death was recognised as a part of life and we did not run away and try to hide from old age and death. You find gods and goddesses who not only danced, but laughed, copulated, schemed, fought, loved. They had passion, whereas most interpretations of the Divine on display for at least the last 2,000 years only show passion in the form of retribution and anger (say, Old Testament) or in the context of sado-masochistic horror by way of supposed sacrifice (New Testament).

Christ’s crucifixion, while not the only one that took place, was certainly influential in leading to generation after generation of people who sought to connect to the Divine through self-flagellation, stigmata, starvation and other forms of self-destruction thanks to the false division of spirit and flesh – as in, flesh=bad, spirit=good. You took away the flesh, the spirit could touch God. For me, that’s rubbish. I was not given my body to stick pins into it.

We touch God when we touch each other, when we feel, when we orgasm and when we sigh or cry. I can’t understand or connect to the emotionally disturbed figure of God in modern-day religions. I just can’t. The Goddess gave me fire in my belly, love in my heart and a body that is not to be abused but is to be used in the way She intended – for pleasure, and as a vehicle for my soul in this life through which it can learn and grow.

This article originally appeared on The Spicy Cauldron and is represented here by the author. It should not be reproduced anywhere without the permission of the author first having been sought and obtained in writing.