It was 1990, and I had stopped searching for religion. I'd looked at every established religion and none of them rang true with me-- I had formed a religion of my own, personal to me, and was getting on with my life. What I was searching for was Magic. I felt an attraction there, like it was something I wanted. A friend of mine had just discovered Wicca, and she recommended that I check out the exercises in The Spiral Dance. It turns out the library had a copy of the first edition (the second edition hadn't made it there yet), and I checked it out. The quest for magic was forgotten (well, at least shelved), as I found myself discovering that my personal religion was shared by others.

I realized that the magic of the Craft is second to the Craft itself. One can be a Witch and not be good at "casting spells". One can be a Witch and not "cast spells" at all. Every time I have forgotten this, I have Gone Wrong, and I do my best to focus more on being a Witch than casting spells. In the last few years, I have grown a lot, both as Man and Witch. I have discovered things about the Craft that I previously overlooked. I have learned things about myself that I had not bothered to study. And I have discovered that magic is not what I believed it to be.

I think the definition I use most is Cunningham's... it goes something like "Magic is working with natural forces to bring about change." I've heard this definition criticized for being overly vague, and I agreed at the time. The objection was something to the effect that lots of things fell under that category. Now, I'm pretty sure that Cunningham was dead right and I'd just missed the point.

How much magic is now science? Herbal remedies, meditation, pressure points, and visualization are all a part of modern medicine and psychology. They do firewalking and sweat lodges at some business seminars. Does knowing the science make these practices any less magical?

How much science is magic? I'm a professional computer geek, but if you ask me about the intricacies of the Athlon Chip versus the Pentium III, I'm going to tell you that it's IFM technology that I'm not qualified to discuss. (Before you ask, it stands for "It's Magic.") The fact that there are twelve-year-olds out there who understand these things in great detail does not negate the magic to me-- it just makes those kids the medicine men of the Techno Tribe. (And makes me wonder if the Burning Times were caused by smug and annoying witches.)

Where does the line between the magic and the "mundane" break down? It doesn't. When my team at work finds a problem and fixes it, it comes from discipline, following diagnostic rituals (each following a basic pattern, but it's usually adjusted to personal style), with focused intent. Our power comes from professionalism and teamwork, and we bring about change.

This was originally going to be a column on Politics. I was going to compare the modern political scenario to magic, and the analogy broke down because I realized it wasn't an analogy. Politics, like the magical side of Witchcraft, is the science of faith, power, ritual, and intent. If you want to oppose or support a politician, learn where the power comes from.

It might seem that I'm "dumbing down" magic by including such seemingly commonplace items in the categories of magic. But magic is pervasive-- it incorporates the commonplace as well as the fantastic. I have friends and co-workers who command respect and authority by their very presence, and they use this (as well as dedication, skill, and discipline) to accomplish fantastic goals. A gifted speaker can cast a spell on an audience. An artist can invoke emotions. What is art, after all, if it is not magic?

So if you're looking for a little magic in your life, look a little closer. It's probably already there. Recognize it, and you can harness it.

"And you who seek to know Me,
know that your seeking and yearning
will avail you not,
unless you know the Mystery:
for if that which you seek,
you find not within yourself,
you will never find it without."
From The Charge of the Goddess,
by Doreen Valiente

© 2000 by Cather "Catalyst" Steincamp