Now, listen. Not every artist is prone to be a magician. I am not going to even try to define what constitutes an artist. But I will say this much.

Magic is all about transformation. Whether we're talking about turning a base metal into gold, climbing through a wardrobe into an alternate reality, or pulling a rabbit out of a hat, magic is about changing the nature of reality.

Artists are always tinkering with reality. Representational painting is about working a two dimensional surface to appear as three dimensions. Music does not actually exist in three dimensions. Composers translate something they "hear" into symbols on a page that are then interpreted by musicians who interpret those musical ideas into vibrations of sound. Novelists and screenwriters make up worlds left and right, crammed with characters in places who have relationships and histories. Architects imagine structures and spaces then pull together materials and build. Voila! Where there was a meadow now stands a building.

All of this is work is transformational. All of this is a form of magic. And all of it demands some level of a shift in consciousness. 

The comics writer, Alan Moore beautifully draws up the idea of the Artist as Magician. Here's an excerpt.
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More than ever, at this very moment, we need artists of all stripes to consider their transformational skills and role in our culture and how they're going to use those skills and play their parts.

Exploring this very consideration is what I'm after with my Creative Wayfinding course. If you are an artist or creative (whatever you call yourself) and this resonates with you, click here and let me hear from you.

You never really know for sure.

It's hard not to judge an experience or situation that, on the surface, in the context of our limited frame of reference, may seem like a horrible tragedy or a major win. Something "bad" or something "good".

It's a helpful practice to question what we think we know, to test the boundaries of what we think is real. Each of our realities is based on a set of conventions established early on in life. The boundaries of these conventions were set up via family systems, societal rules, religion, and education. Not all boundaries are without good reason. But reason, as in "the intellectual faculty that adopts actions to an end" is likely to change. And change, as you've probably heard, is the only constant.

You don't have to change your mind but you might want to entertain the possibility that what you think may not actually be true. Or at least entirely true.
 
Only when we do not try to resist change, control an outcome, or cling to any solid thing or certainty are we free to experience the mystery of life unfolding and all the gifts that way of being brings.

No one can exactly predict the future. Why not stay centered in the present moment and wait to see what actually unfolds? This is a practice for an open mind.

Is That So?
(Zen Story about Hakuin)

The Zen Master Hakuin lived in a town in Japan. He was held in high regard and many people came to him for spiritual teaching. Then it happened that the teenage daughter of his next-door neighbor became pregnant. When being questioned by her angry and scolding parents as to the identity of the father, she finally told them that he was Hakuin, the Zen master. In great anger the parents rushed over to Hakuin and told him with much shouting and accusing that their daughter had confessed that he was the father. All he replied was, “Is that so?”
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News of the scandal spread throughout the town and beyond. The Master lost his reputation. This did not trouble him. Nobody came to see him anymore. He remained unmoved. When the child was born, the parents brought the baby to Hakuin, “You are the father, so look after him.” The Master took loving care of the child. A year later, the mother remorsefully confessed to her parents that the real father of the child was the young man who worked at the butcher shop. In great distress they went to see Hakuin to apologize and ask for forgiveness. “We are really sorry. We have come to take the baby back. Our daughter confessed that you are not the father.” “Is that so?” is all he would say as he handed the baby over to them.

The Farmer's Son
(Taoist variation on a theme)​

An old farmer who had worked his crops for many years set his aging horse free to pasture. Upon hearing the news, his neighbors said, "Such bad luck, to lose your only horse." "May be," the farmer replied.

The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. "How wonderful," the neighbors exclaimed. "May be," replied the old man.

The following day, the farmer's son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune. "May be," answered the farmer.

The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out. "May be," said the farmer.

And then, of course, the young village men were killed in the war and the farmer's son, limp and all, was the only able bodied man remaining. The farmer and his son prospered. When his neighbors praised his fortune, well, you know how the farmer replied. "May be".

Here's Eckhart Tolle’s commentary on Hakuin’s Zen story and its Taoist variation:

“The story of the Zen Master whose only response was always “Is that so?” shows the good that comes through inner nonresistance to events, that is to say, being at one with what happens. The story of the man whose comment was invariably a laconic “Maybe” illustrates the wisdom of non-judgment, and to the fact of impermanence which, when recognized, leads to non-attachment. Nonresistance, non-judgement, and non-attachment are the three aspects of true freedom and enlightened living.” 
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― Eckhart Tolle (A New Earth: Awakening to Your Life’s Purpose)

The other night, I walked out to get some air and screen relief. I watched Venus rise above the high school, directly under the paws of the Leo constellation. Just now, when I checked my astronomy app, Leo appears to be walking on a path of Venus, Mars, and Mercury, directly into the Sun. It looks like Sirius is on a trajectory to become part of that pathway for a little while at some point tomorrow, August 8th.

I am posting my weekly words a little early because we're about to pass through what’s called the Lion's Gate Portal which, this year, happens to coincide directly with the New Moon on August 8th.

While I was growing up, we called this time of year the Dog Days, the hottest, most miserable time of summer. That term can be traced to ancient Greece describing the same and also the time of year when Sirius (aka the Dog Star because it’s part of the Canis Major constellation) rises and is visible above the horizon in the morning at dawn, just before sunrise.

The ancient Egyptians also honored Sirius and this time of year as it was when the Nile overflowed and flooded the Delta.

These days, many astrologers and New Age writers refer to the period of July 28 to August 12, as the Lion’s Gate Portal, culminating on the 8th of August. I couldn’t tell you when this trend started but personally, I can buy into the idea that this is a special moment in time. Especially this year. Especially in conjunction with the New Moon.

Without getting into a cosmic mashup of theories about energetic resonance, the basic idea of the Lion’s Gate Portal, is that this is a time of increased cosmic energy flowing between the spiritual and physical realms, between heaven and earth.

If the stars transmit energy, and of course they do, then it stands to reason that, because we’re all traveling through space in various configurations, on occasion, Earth will find itself in a certain proximity to massively energetic stars that can’t help but have noteworthy effect on Earth’s systems which happens to include us, the human beings. Some of us humans are more sensitive than others. It’s only logical that some of us, especially those of us who are aware of these astrological moments, might take advantage of and be affected by the same.

There’s no getting around the significance of this simultaneous New Moon which is already a time of darkness, star gazing, and quiet, providing perfect opportunities for new intentions and fresh starts. This New Moon is in Leo, and Leo is ruled by fire and connected with the heart, with courage.

There’s also a numerological significance to his event. August 8th is the 8th day of the 8th month. That’s a double 8 which represents spiritual enlightenment and intelligence. It’s also the number of constellations in the sky.

And, as it happens, August 8th is the 220th day of the year! In numerology, 22 is the master number of the builder, bringing together the spiritual and the material.

There it is again. The connection of the sublime and the material.

I am spending the 8th communing with nature, meditating, and entering a new phase of my life. How about you?

You can listen to my long-time fave, Gregory Scott's take on this New Moon, and another regular fave, Molly McCord's New Moon and Lion's Gate Portal.

I've jettisoned my old list and have started a new mailing list for this phase of my life and work. You can sign up here to receive at least monthly mailings.

"I watch the choppy, shining sea
as I walk beside the sliding waves.
On the sand, in the sun, at the shore
breathing hazy air, bright white and brave

filled with liquid, brisk, exquisite sounds
I am found, content and most secure
where everything is moving
and the sand is shifting evermore."

--Suzanne McDermott, from Mine for Good, 1995

Mine for Good is a little love song to the Garden State, to the sea shore, and to embracing change. I wrote it while walking along Cape May beach after a big October storm. The place was littered with huge knobbed and channeled whelk shells, some of which I am looking at right now.

Any coastline is a space of constant change. Water alters land. Remains are deposited and retrieved. Life and death and mysteries abound. Colors shift in the blink of an eye. Wind slaps waves and splatters sea foam. Salt evaporates. Sand gets into everything. Ghost crabs skitter and steal. Birds fish. Rays flap. One day the surface of the sea is still and silky. The next day, churning and explosive. Although the level of drama depends on the sea in question, there is never a dull moment along any coastline.

The world at large has started to feel like a long, dramatic coastline. So many of our individual lives have shifted or are shifting in ways we may never have imagined. But the fact is that the world has always been in a process of constant change, as have our individual lives.

Leaves fall, snow drifts down, winds whip up, new green shoots appear, and summer comes in. Coastlines have always been shifting. Our bodies, minds, and orientation in space and time are different moment by moment. Change is decidedly more dramatic now thanks in large part to anthropogenic climate change. Try as some people might, there's no getting around that fact. But that's not the only cause for the drama.

At some point, we got it into our heads that life is stable, that we can rely on facts and material assurances. This may have been true for some, or even for many for a while. But it isn't true anymore. In fact, it's often not clear what is true anymore.

If we've made up our minds that life should be stable, well, that makes facing change that much more alarming and difficult to navigate. If we cling to some illusion of normalcy, we're resisting change and actually clinging to the past which doesn't exist anymore.

Contending with change involves accepting considerable uncertainty. We like to think that we can control an awful lot of our experience and uncertainty is a control freak's nightmare.

I think that there are two keys to riding the waves of change. One is to recognize that we can only control ourselves. The other is to practice being present, here and now. Easier said than done. Interestingly enough, these are also the two keys to surfing.

And what do you know, going within and learning to know ourselves so that we can control ourselves, and being here now are the keys to a fully realized human life.