Magic

It’s Just the News

I try not to visit the major news sites except for sport. Why? To be honest, I think they have agendas and they report only bad news that is usually blown up out of all proportion. Their agenda seems to be to create fear. So I really don’t visit anymore as I said. Yesterday though and today, I did visit the BBC and CNN websites looking for news on the fall in the price of oil. I am, after all, an analyst in the commodities space. I have hated the BBC website for some time but now CNN has done a similar redesign – its awful! Both news sites are now all big color pictures with lurid headlines and short reports. I see this as a part of the same

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A Journey to the End of the world

I remember one day deciding with a friend that we would explore the very edge of our world. We jumped on our bicycles and set off resolutely in that general direction. After about 15-minutes, we had already entered an entirely new world about which we knew only rumor. Here, there were supposed to be roaming gangs that if they caught you, would carry you off to their secret lairs in the ‘blackgang’. We felt, well, very brave to have gone so far and to be in someone else’s territory. Parking our bikes by the side of the street, we entered some gardens discovering a veritable paradise of willow trees and grass surrounding a small private pond. It was magical and it was someone else’s secret garden as we had hauled

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The Cross

Have to admit I am deeply flawed And no matter how hard I try These things so deeply lie Burn Scorched Earth Wash Scrubbed Air Balancing elements Losing irrelevants In places No soap has ever been In places No physical eyes have seen Still, it’s not enough Some habits hang tough The flaws magnified Obsessing over scratches While missing the gaping wound Bleeding Pleading Seeing life ooze away Nothing left except to pray Elements stirred Returned to the point At which we started When these four were parted Burn Scorched Earth Wash Scrubbed Air Four-lorn, I am The fifth gets Short shrift The Lamb I am A Cross Free of Dross I am Yes, I truly am likeheartlaughterwowsadangry0

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Medium – From My Haunted Life Too

There was a time growing up when I became quite fascinated by spiritualism. The idea that a person could communicate with the dead—actually see and hear ghosts—was of great interest to me. This was an interest that my mother was actually willing to share with me, and so we ended up taking a couple of trips to a spiritualist church in Hull, England. These sessions were always characterized as demonstrations of clairvoyance, rather than speaking with the dead; but that is exactly what these people did. On our second trip, my dad decided to stay at home, muttering something about it ‘only encouraging weird activity,’ but he was always interested in what had happened at the meetings, of course. He was, I believe, quite right. It did encourage the strange, ghostly

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Still Scared of the Dark?

Scared of the dark. That’s a funny expression if you think about it. It’s not that we are scared of the dark but of what might be hidden in that darkness. I know that growing up and if I am truly honest, even now from time-to-time, I am afraid of the dark. Too many terrifying experiences – some even shared – to discount the idea that sometimes the dark isn’t actually hiding something. These days, it is more the memory of things that once happened that can have my heart palpitating, my palms sweaty and the back of my neck hot and prickly! These days, I am able to consciously bring matters under control quite quickly and that is usually all it takes to control the fear. I learned this

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Expectation and the Power of Prayer

A few weeks ago, someone posted in the local Brno-based group on Facebook that the supermarkets here always had empty shelves and that they couldn’t find a number of food items that they were used to in Germany. Politely, I made the comment that I never had experienced that problem and pointed them to a number of locations stocking the items that they needed. I also made the remark that we must live in parallel universes. Not knowing me, that comment was taken the wrong way but I actually meant it. To me, this was another example of magic at work. We get what we expect. The German plainly had an expectation contrary to mine, that the supermarket shelves were often empty and, as a result, they were. On the

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The Art

In the silence I can hear As I watch my heartfelt prayer In the stillness of the inner I ask forgiveness and renewal The Sea is still and deep Reflections there to keep Aqua fluidly accepts ideas Smoothes and refines, purifies And throws them on the Fire Flaming through intense desire To work the Art of magic The inner to the outer flows Water steams as ember glows I see, I hope, I know That from my uttered words will grow The qualities that I seek I am, stillness, eternal A presence in the space A fluctuating lighted face Flickering half-formed in the first light I imagine that it will grow so very bright Consuming, boiling, generating Between the darkness and the light And everything is simply just right As

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A Meeting with God

In the run up to Halloween, here is another true and strange tale of the paranormal. I will post a new strange true story each day so don’t miss them. A few weeks into my college days, as I made my way from the Students’ Union building to my student flat on the 19th floor of a campus building, I noticed a rather suspicious looking character who seemed to be following me around. As I entered one of the elevators in the ground-floor of the building, he followed peering sideways at me but looking away whenever I tried to catch his eye. As the elevator arrived at my floor, I was hoping it was all just my imagination and that perhaps he would continue up to the top floor above

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The Last Supper

In the run up to Halloween, here is another true and strange tale of the paranormal. I will post a new strange true story each day so don’t miss them. At the beginning of my second year of college, I moved into a flat in West Bromwich. It was quite a distance from the University but it was the only thing I could find that I could afford. There was a bus ride into Birmingham and so I just had to get used to the idea of commuting. At some point I had acquired a very large paper poster of Leonardo Da Vinci’s Last Supper. I really liked the painting and would often spend time studying the detail of the picture. It hung proudly on the main wall of the

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An Adept Among Us

In the book The adept Magician by Marten Crawford, we meet through his own words a true adept. A man who followed Bardon’s teachings for 30 odd years and in passing tells us that he can shoot flames from his stomach and water to put out the flames as well change the weather, stop time, split himself in two and many more bizarre things. When you read the words of the man, you believe him. His words are the words of someone who seems to know and who sees little importance in such abilities anyway. Mr. Crawford writes a very straightforward and well thought through introduction to his interactions with the man he called the Adept Magician. For those who have read any Franz Bardon, some of it will be

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