My mind gnaws at these things endlessly, working problems unconsciously even when I am unawares and may think I've neglected or moved along to something else or forgotten or tabled a thing for a future time. And last night, just before bed, I thought —
Magick may be no more than the willful invocation of awe.
Such an obvious and simple thought that it made me dizzy. It appeals to me for at least two reasons: a) it describes my own personal experiences and b) I am ever drawn to ideas which seem too elegant to be true, yet too elegant to possibly be false. And the "no more" part is deceptive, as I've come to suspect very many people today are incapable of awe. And certainly of awe at will. Awe at will. With no self-delusion. Genuine awe at will. Magick would be an awful thing, in the original sense of the word. Which gives me a third reason to favour this tentative epiphany. A fourth would be that it does not seem to be a counterintuitive concept (though, admittedly, one may often be led astray by intuition).
So, now I will gnaw at this consciously. But, for me, I believe it's a breakthrough.
And a bit of Rilke wants to chime in here:
Denn das Schöne is nichts
als des Schrecklichen Anfang, den wir noch grade ertragen (Thank you, Peter)
Also, I think I know who and what Algeria Touchshriek is. More later...