Magic, Spirituality, and Fall
Autumnal reflections on intention and intuition
Quinn McClurg
[Disclaimer: I write this article upon piles of neglected tarot cards, meditations, and visions. I bring up my magical past (self-made, esoteric-informed, unconscious-centered, and manic) only to illustrate how “far gone” I’ve been before, and its correlations with the most intense periods of my life. I’ve long equated my inherited “intuitions” with my mother’s mental illnesses. I wouldn’t say I believe in magic, but I believe those who do; I, too, have perceived things that could easily not be explained. Perhaps I still don’t want to explain them. Also, a majority of this article is generalization; follow the QR code for a more substantial product.]
Summer dies slowly, and Fall usurps its cooling mantle. As the last rays of sun grow shorter and more frigid, the veil thins, and the dead speak with tongues of dry leaves. Fall’s passing forces us to reconnect to our pasts and reconcile our old ghosts, to connect with nature and embrace her transitions, to turn to our trusted traditions and the ancient glimmers of nameless conviction living in our bones.
I speak of magic. As universal as our desire to believe in it, as old as humans drawing breath themselves, magic is that tenuous lifeforce breathed into mankind by creator gods in almost every religion—that same life force swimming through everything else. Magic is not only a practice, but the very fact of being itself, from evolution to transduction, from stardust to sentience. Reeling from the sheer logistical impossibility of existence itself, one may assume not only that driving and guiding forces exist, but that they are meaningful.
In truth, the reconciliation and management of these unseen forces comprises the majority of modern practices of magic, not the stereotypical images of bloody sacrifice or demon-summoning. In fact, most common Western practices—general spirituality to witchcraft, Paganism to Wicca—rely mainly on intuition and intention to guide, fulfill, or execute rituals and practices. Intuition is gleaned from previous experience or observation: channeling, listening, or connecting to some signifier (internal or external; sometimes identified as specific deities or ancestors). Intention generated by the practitioner’s conscious or unconscious desires is integrated into or answered by their practice (sometimes solidified in sigils or specific utterances). If used, relics (ie., heirlooms, curios), natural objects (ie., herbs, bones, crystals), personal objects (ie., hair, saliva, blood), and tools (ie., oracle / tarot decks, candles) can all aid in a ritual, use guided by intention, intuition, or custom.
Very rarely are rituals and practices focused on the material (money, transmutation, physical harm, etc.), but rather on encouraging positive energy, balance, reinforcement, connection, cleansing, or protection. Because these practices are so immaterial, they are far more likely to appear to alter reality than a placebo—they create and inform a rich inner life, further connecting the practitioner to themselves, others, and the world around them.
Historically, magic was respected, used for the benefit of a collective (agriculture, medicine, religion, guidance, etc). Then, with colonizers and their conditional god(s) comes “difference,” violence, and erasure. However, magic endured, even at the threat of death, carrying with it centuries of otherwise lost oral histories, ancient religions, folklores, and restorative practices. For example, from Precolonial America, various Native American practices and Brujería emerged; from Africa, Vodún and Ìṣẹ̀ṣe endured post-slave-trade, adapting into Voodoo, Hoodoo, and Pan-African spirituality; from the pre-Christian Celts, Goths, Greeks, and Slavs, various Pagan practices, many of which intermingled and influence modern day Paganism and Wicca.
These practices, necessary for the survival of the practitioner, their culture, and soul, are often poached and made piecemeal by the rich white man for entertainment, specifically from the late 19th century to today. Seances, secret societies, and thinly-veiled sex cults mark the heights of these appropriations and fetishizations, being deeply rooted within several occult, esoteric, and even spiritual practices still.
At risk of sounding cliché, I believe magic is in the histories, preservation, and continuation of any culture at all: necromancy is as simple as reading the words of the long-dead; enchantment as simple as folklore and storytelling; empowerment as simple as connecting to the generations before and after through your practice. It is up to us to reexamine the histories, origins, and implications of our magics, thereby preserving or reinterpreting them, uprooting each shred of bigotry, appropriation, colonial violence, and dehumanization within—the infinities in us are not enabled by their judgements or limitations, but rather freedoms, paradoxes, and possible impossibilities. Your practice need not be a faith either: to re-enchant oneself is merely to live with wonder, curiosity, veneration, devotion, and love.
Bear witness. Take action. Make magic.
