And in the beginning….
In the beginning, silence was deafening. Darkness twisted and turned relentlessly in an empty, turbulent sea, anticipating the time when it would no longer be alone. No matter Darkness’s wishes, change remained slow and methodical in its movements, seeming to take an eternity. So the darkness waited patiently in solitude.
Finally, after eons, from the depths of the indigo silence, came a whisper. All but imperceptible at first, it grew outward on a wave that transformed the night into an ocean of promise. In the center of the swell, a small spark appeared from which stars, planets, and galaxies poured forth endlessly, gloriously, joyfully filled with potentials beyond compare. Darkness would never be alone again.
Thousands of years later (but a second in infinity), the winds of change blew across a blue planet, and the Wheel of Life began to spin. Molecule to molecule, link to link, web to web, it reached outward. Following its motion, the earliest creatures crawled from their homes in the deep. This had been their safe womb, but another voice above the waves beckoned, the voice of the soil.
On and on, the great Wheel turned. With it, these beings grew and changed, shaped by the hand of time. As their minds expanded, they began to think about the “spirits” in nature; the call of the wind, the strength of the sun, the fury of storms. How could humankind touch such awesome powers? This macrocosm, this superconscious, was vast. Would the cries for insight be heard above the swell?
The Wheel kept inching forward, bringing constant transformation. As philosophers in every culture began walking sand strewn paths, they provided many outlooks to consider. Ardent seekers everywhere listened intently, hoping to find universal truths within the words. Yet, the words were somehow wanting. External truth, it seemed, was illusive and prone to opinion, prone to politics and era, prone to personal consciousness. Nonetheless, undaunted, the Wheel spun onward and another cycle began.
Later still, idealists, dreamers, and visionaries looked within. There they found the same spirits, the same spark that existed without. Symbols were sought to express this knowledge; the cup or grail, the sword, the staff or rod, the coin or pentacle, each provided one part of a greater picture. Yet, again, this picture was incomplete. The tools were lifeless, and unlike the Earth they lay sleeping at the Seeker’s fingers waiting for expression.
When the Wheel moves again, the voices gain volume; the voices from nature that have always been here. It has been millions of years now; years of being deaf to this ageless canticle, blind to the power of the Earth, and unable to express the message in the waves. Yet the symphony sings on, knowing that there will be a few special people in each generation who hear and heed the call. It is time to answer.
Finally, the Fool turns to the world, turns to the time-not-time, lying aside outmoded notions, and ready to make the leap of faith. There, stretched expectantly before the Seeker, are all the secrets, all the power of creation, all the tools ever needed by humankind. In the song of a bird, the murmurs of a volcano, the groan of a sprouting seedling, and yes, the music of the ocean . . . our ancient home.
Today, the Seeker returns to the Monad and to the Sacred Self, listening intently to the voice of eternity. Here to attain vision; here to retrieve truth.
A Witch’s 10 Commandments: Magickal Guidelines for Everyday Life
Marian Singer
Witches Of The Craft® 