by Christopher Penczak, edited by Tina Whittle
As a Witch, I know my voice—and the thoughts behind my words—are some of the most powerful tools I have. While there is great power in the silent gesture, the withering stare, and the energetic sheer force of will as part of our repertoire, there is immense power in the clarity of word, the precision of well thought intention, and vibration of sound resonating within our chest cavity, and within a space. Words echoing in the woods or a strong and steady but almost inaudible whisper into a potion lend a deeper layer of vibration to our magick. And I also know how the offhand comment, the misspoken word, and the foolish thought can manifest unintentionally.
One of the earliest lessons from Laurie Cabot was the neutralization of unwanted and unhealthy thoughts, words, and visions. As we empower ourselves, we find that all our words become empowered magickal words, so we must be careful in what we think and speak. Through this, we start to understand that the division between the ritual and the ordinary, the magickal and the mundane, is artificial, and everything you do in life has been one big spell, and always has been.
So what do we do in a society where there is so much thought and spoken, but not as much conveyed, where stillness and silence are rarely considered virtues, but traits that can further ostracize you? What do we do with the typed and texted words and thoughts?
I learned the three gates of speech, attributed in popular culture to both Buddhism and Islam, but beloved by occultists of all stripes: before speaking, ask yourself, “Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?” At face value, it seems really simple, but it opens us to all sorts of deeper thoughts about the nature of truth, kindness, and necessity. All are considered forms of archetypal virtue. We learn to not confuse niceness with kindness, as nice is not a virtue. Another teacher of mine used to quote the Arabic proverb, “Open your mouth only if what you are going to say is more beautiful than silence.” There is also virtue in silence, rather than adding to the cacophony of the world, shifting the signal-to-noise ratio of the world towards peace and clarity.
This is not to say that when you do wish to express yourself, to share a thought or an opinion, you shouldn’t. But as a magician, I think you should have consciousness around where that thought arises from, and the intentions about sharing it. Otherwise you do yourself and others a disservice and can get mired in the growing noise of the world. If everything is making sound, no one is truly listening. And without silence, no one is truly resting and regenerating.
On social media, our online comments sections serve as a measure of “engagement” with others, and when we post, have a metric of how “popular” we are, culturally conditioning us to form strong opinions based on limited knowledge and experience of a subject. We are conditioned to say something, anything, affirming, denying, or adding to, for the sake of doing so, without looking at previous comments to see if it’s necessary. On some platforms, you are not even able to easily see all the previous comments. What is the intention behind that? What is the consequence in our consciousness, ego, and self-esteem?
We should beware unconscious motivations of wanting to “hold the floor,” meaning that once we have attention and eyes upon “us,” even electronically, not wanting to give that up. Those of us who have facilitated group discussions when there is a “talking stick” or speaker’s staff—a custom frequently found in Northwestern coast native tribes as well as African and Maori tribes that has made its way into other group settings—find that there will be one person who will not relinquish the talking stick in an effort to remain the center of attention. For those who feel unheard, the temptation to do so in many different settings is great. While some attention can help, it can also become a problem for the individual, and the group.
While we live in a world of interdependence and interconnection, a constant stream of information about those who we know, have met in passing, work with, are related to, have drifted from (and in some cases, purposely separated from) causes problems, as does our own broadcasting of our own status, mood, events, and inner dialogue. The attempt to process the information is draining. Even when we don’t consciously engage, it invites the psychic cords from others that pull and drain us. Privacy and closure become more difficult. When we clearly set a boundary, it comes across as overly confrontational or violent as the natural mechanisms to let relationships rest, renew, and fade as needed are circumvented in this constant stream. The language of “friends,” “followers,” and “likes” have muddled relationships and the dynamics of intimate connection. What those words mean in a social media context is not always the same amongst us, and can lead to misunderstandings and hurt feelings. On one level such media do facilitate a deeper connection at a distance, but overall they disperse the limited capacity we have for it. When you are close and connected to all, you are often close to none and make less effort outside of the techno-sphere. This both drains our attention, awareness, and ability to focus and hinders the natural regeneration that occurs with true intimacy.
Esoterically, I think about how many teachings have warnings about our unconscious attention, and how other entities can “feed” off of our unconscious attention, self-absorption, and lack of mindfulness. The controversial G.I. Gurdjieff taught we were “food for the moon” in which we serve as sustenance for a parasitical lunar entity. While as a Witch I dislike this imagery, finding conscious empowerment in the Moon, I do realize the moon cycles are often the stimulus of unconscious emotional reaction for most of humanity. Gurdjieff’s Fourth Way teachings were all about awakening us from a complacent robotic automaton existence and learning not to identify with the ego. Another deeply controversial teacher, Carlos Castaneda, spoke of similar parasitic entities, installing their mind into humanity, dissipating our resolve by encouraging our fears and vanities to devour our awareness. If we were able to amass enough energy rather than wasting it, we would open to a new dimension of consciousness. While not an exemplar of his own teachings, the concepts of stopping the inner dialogue, reclaiming energy from past memories and traumas, and cultivating beneficial spiritual allies are found not just in his work, but in various pieces through many traditions, including Witchcraft. He just had a particularly colorful way of expressing it through his biographical fiction. Christian mystic William Blake taught about this false self as “the Selfhood” and saw it as distinct from the soul. Again, I shy away from his Christian apocalyptic imagery, but we see a common theme of loss of energy and inflation of a false self, a situation leading away from genuine growth, awareness, health, and happiness.
While I love the information, interconnectivity, and community that online resources can build, I have to wonder if our current online experience is aiding the lack of awareness, and feeding parts of ourselves, our culture, or even parasitical and scavenging astral entities to our detriment. I think magicians have benefited from some “mindless” activities after times of deep focus and contemplation. I know many who I feel are adepts on the path who enjoy binding television shows or social media, to give their deeper contemplation a rest. Some are shocked at such ideas, but it’s true. Spacing out and doing nothing is a necessary part of the human experience, and some online experiences facilitate this, while others, disguised as mindless entertainment, are perhaps more harmful than we think. I think about how I feel after time online. If it’s restful or enjoyable, do I walk away feeling better, or do I feel more exhausted. Do I feel more agitated? Do I feel worse and not realize it unless I ask myself how I feel?
I often go back to Marcus Aurelius, the Roman Emperor also remembered for his Stoic philosophy, who wrote, “You always own the option of having no opinion. There is never any need to get worked up or to trouble your soul about things you can’t control. These things are not asking to be judged by you. Leave them alone.”
So do I need to have an opinion on this? Do I need to comment? Do I need to click? Why? Am I simply following a conditioned response? Is that conditioned response giving me more freedom or less? Could my responses and my desire for those to respond to me indicate a growing spiritual pathology? What is at the root of my actions? Can I trace it back and understand?
Of course, I often ignore the advice of Marcus, specifically getting worked up about things I can’t directly control. I get worked up about the state of our nation; when dangerous weather imperils me, loved ones, or people in general; global crisis and war; and the health of those around me. While I can’t control it, I am affected and must process such things, even if the process is to realize what I can and cannot control. Often supporting those going through a crisis is what I can do to contribute to a better space, if not the final outcome, in such situations.
And despite my advocating for keeping silent if what you have to say is not more beautiful than the silence, I tend to be verbose. I use a lot of words when I speak. I use a lot of words when I write. I once wrote more simply, but now, when I get more involved in a topic, I believe I need more words. I might be right. I might be wrong. But I am always thinking about and questioning where the words—and the need to speak or write them—come from, what my intention is and what my process is, trying to make the process as mindful and meditative, rather than mindless and reactionary, as possible.
In today’s world of short hot takes with the hope to go viral with popularity, I think back to a quote from an older political drama, The West Wing, in the episode titled “Game On.” In it, a lifelong Republican working “spin” with the Democrats on foreign policy says, “It’s not simple. It’s incredibly complicated. I’ve been at the State Department for 30 years and there is no right answer to these questions and diplomacy needs all the words it can get its hands on…” I use a lot of words, and think about those words a lot, because I know life isn’t that simple, and we need all our words, all our nuance, all our skills of communication, speaking, and listening, to progress forward. The diplomacy between us all, all our factions and divisions, needs all the words it can get.
I think of my friend and author Aliza Einhorn tweeting about the commodification of our lives via social media, and I often think, while that is not always the clear intention of the commenter, it certainly is the intention of the corporate owners of these platforms we use to communicate. I think about how all the “best” options of platforms in terms of connection with others never seem to get traction, and like the past domination of three or four main television networks, we are dominated by a small group of media platforms where one corporation might own several of our options. I wonder why those who embrace art, the essence of sound and light, can’t take better control of the paradigms and narrative. Why can’t a better story catch on?
Isn’t that the nature of magicians, to create a more enticing story, a more fascinating art, and shift the cultural consciousness? But to do so means we cannot get trapped in another’s story. Let us examine what each post we choose to read brings up in us, and the choice of how much or how little to read. Let us contemplate how much to respond to it internally, and when to respond externally. Let us reflect on when our posts are a process of unconscious projection, to see our thoughts out there, and how we can make the process more conscious.