The Magic Is Always Passing By, wherever we are.
If finding ourself in the realm to witness this gossamer passing the thing to do is,... sit down.
Remember this is where we came from, remember we can move easily in the realm.
We all call the Magic in different ways, and by various names.
We call upon the Magic when we want it to help us . We call out for it when we are afraid.
We believe in it when we are in love, but have forgetten it if we are lost.
Remember it is not of the material world, but it can create material reality. How we work with it, is how we see it reflected back to us.
Decades ago a song was sung by Bob Lind, maybe you know it.
The sleeve note of the record album had words from a fellow writer I think, which said-
" ...and when Elusive Butterfly became a smash I was overjoyed to learn that so many understood his beautiful lyrics. His songs will remind you of summer, a love you once knew, autumn smells, bad times turned good with age, and yourself."
A butterfly completes the metamorphosis. Not all insects do. A butterfly changes appearance with each stage, but not so with other insects.
The butterfly masters the metamorphosis and this is the elusive transitional power that sometimes evades the memory. Maybe we replace the memory with the idea of magic.
The stages of growth are four.
An egg emerges from the mother source.
Then a larva stage, a caterpillar, a grub, a grubby crawling earthbound creature with only dreams or memory of flying, but none the less works instinctively toward that winged evolution as it crawls along day by day through the awkward stages of growing out of the larva and toward a pupa.
The pupa stage is an inactive phase between larva and adult. The crawling creature again changes form through no force other than the innate memory of Nature. The caterpillar world is abrubtly turned upside down and a preparation begins. A chrysalis is formed by spinning silky threads as a protective case from the harsh outer world while an inner transformation is evolving the gravity bound grub.
Time passes.
One day an impulse from the transitional dreamlike state causes the awakening and a splitting of the shell occurs. The caterpillar that was is no longer.
The metamorphosis completes and a slow unfolding of wings is begun.
We humans have stages. We wander in and out of phases and change while weaving our own silky threads and stories of who we are.
The Magic of Nature is natural power. No one owns the power. It is innate to every being and every one can work it.
Though it is not of the material world, it can and does create material reality. How we work with it is how we see it reflected back to us.
In the insect realm the butterfly completes the metamorphosis, masters the evolution from egg, to grub, to creator of the chrysalis which births the butterfly.
You might wake up some mornin'
To the sound of something moving past your window in the wind And if you're quick enough to rise
You'll catch a fleeting glimpse of someone's fading shadow
Out on the new horizon
You may see the floating motion of a distant pair of wings
And If the sleep has left vour ears
You might hear footsteps running through an open meadow
Don't be concerned, it will not harm you
It's only me pursuing somethin' I'm not sure of Across my dreams with nets of wonder I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love
-Bob Lind- singer /songwriter born 1943
STORIES CONSCIOUSNESS INSPIRATION SPIRITUALITY
