Magic versus Magical Thinking, a Practical Guide (Part 1): Of Recipes, Rites and Action

 

In the beginning, when people were evolving, power was present in the place where one found oneself—by power, I mean the inherent dangers of a place, such as raging waters, sheer cliffs, and roaming gigantic flesh eating creatures. Survival, in such places, came to be seen as a certain sort of blessing, and the people who seemed to have better survival tools (or rather who seemed to make better choices) came to be revered. Some of those revered people, when asked to what they attributed their success at overcoming adversity, might have said something like, “I owe it to the benevolent spirit of the place,” by which they might have meant that they had learned by experience, trial and error, how to make good choices in a hostile environment. Indeed, some people are better suited to survival in certain places than others, and this can only be the result of an education by experience that teaches a type of discernment when it comes to making choices, especially when the unexpected happens. Such people, when they die, become the stuff of legends, and sometimes the legends of such people become so famous, they are turned into demi-gods.

Another scenario related to hero worship is the worship of forces of nature, such as water, air, fire, quaking earth, and the like, seen and unseen. Survival of the fittest when it comes to forces of nature is also an aspect of the power of place, where the unexpected happening can limit or endanger chances of survival.

Yet another scenario related to worship is the reverence of any thing or being that produces food. In such a scenario, corn is reverenced, wheat is reverenced, cows are reverenced, and so forth.

I will say that none of these models of reverence is inherently incorrect; these are all valid examples of reverence and respect. With reverence and respect to the powers of place, to the life-giving powers of food produced in the natural world, to exemplars of right discernment and choice, one is able to learn from past example, build on that with innovation, and survive, even to the point of producing offspring that carry the species forward in time toward newer innovation.

I will now identify an aspect of these primitive forms of reverence that I believe to be incorrect: magic.

This is not to say that magic and magical moments do not exist or that they are irrelevant. Magic is very real; it may be the most real thing there is. Magic goes back to the power of place and the power of the unexpected. Magic is an experience, an awesome and unexpected result. The error comes when people believe they can recreate a magical experience by performing a litany of rites, instead of living and experiencing, learning. The error occurs when people do not, as the heroic exemplars of the past did (or may have done), use and build on the knowledge acquired through experiences of surviving the powers of place and the unexpected to make choices, then accept responsibility for inauspicious outcomes. 

Simply put, one person’s choice might work for someone else, but this is not necessarily the case, and is most often not. In the words of a song Doris Day sang, but hated:

“Que sera, sera

Whatever will be, will be

The future's not ours to see

Que sera, sera

What will be, will be

Que sera, sera.”

The Great British Bake Off television series delivers a concrete example of what I am talking about. At some point, all the participants are given the same recipe to prepare. Amazingly, the results are different for every single participant. Why? They are all using the same ingredients in the same weather conditions, with roughly identical equipment. Why is it that the results can be so different?

Recipes (receipts, in old style) are scientific formulae from the realm of the practical cook. Someone made a tasty dish and invited friends to dinner. The friends really enjoyed the dish and wanted to recreate it in their own homes, so they asked for the receipt, which was a list of ingredients, most often, including a sketchy explanation of how the ingredients were to be combined. The cook had been preparing the dish for so long, it was second nature, and they figured another (experienced) cook would know what was intended.

Here is a recipe from “Good Things to Eat as Suggested by Rufus [Estes]”:

Mushroom Sauce, Italian Style—(for macaroni, spaghetti, ravioli and rice)—a small piece of butter about the size of an egg. One or two onions, cut very small. About two pounds of beef. Let all brown. Prepare as you would pot roast. Add Italian dried mushrooms, soaked overnight in hot water, chopped in small pieces. Add about one-half can of tomatoes. Let all cook well. Salt and pepper to taste. Add a little flour to thicken. 

The beef, is it cubed or a slab of meat? Small, medium or large onions; yellow or red? What quantity of dried mushrooms? What size can of tomatoes are we talking about? Do you know how to make pot roast? Is this done in the oven or on the stovetop? What sized pot to use? Any added liquid, or do the tomatoes suffice? At what temperature? For how long?

The experienced, practical (that is, practicing) cook can take that receipt, procure the ingredients, and turn them into a delicious meal. In the hands of others, “results may vary.” And that is the truth of the matter, results do vary; life is not cast by lots, nor can the turn of a card predict outcomes—that is magical thinking. 

That’s all for now. Not sure when the next installment will be, but I can say that it will have something to do with praxis, religion, reason and governance.

Solstice

The shortest night

eases into the longest day;

the light can barely contain itself,

and the land heaves a sigh

of something quite pent up—

the interior landscape

exhales heat and humidity.

The birds take to song early,

take to flight soon after,

until the beating of wings

awakens the whole world

with inescapable rhythms.

Every stone, every branch,

even the driest blade of grass,

all awaken, as if from a long sleep,

and a longer dreaming.

Waves of warmth rise

in circular patterns off the ground,

as do the pollinators, 

flitting from blossom to blossom,

as if self-aware of greater liberties

to propel themselves upward,

despite the heavy weight 

of their cargos.

Everything rises on tiptoe, 

as if weightless,

expectant,

waiting

for the next coming,

Next,

only round the corner, now,

is all poised to bloom

and bear fruit, 

for, verily,

Life is the only choice

on this event horizon.

© 2022 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen and songsofasouljourney.blogspot.com

 

Commencement Day 2022

 

For Max and Hazel, and all the grads of 2022

You may not remember the first step you ever took,

but look, here you are, stepping off the dais,

as newly minted today, as you were then.

For years—too many, it seems—you’ve been told:

Line Up,

Move forward,

Look Up,

Look Down,

And STOP!

The world, now, is your oyster, as they say,

but they never tell you what this means:

The world is your classroom perpetual and teacher,

and every day brings a new challenge 

that writes a new lesson

for you to be tested on,

culminating in the greatest

of all questions:

“How do I make a difference

while I’ve got the day-to-day grind on my mind?”

This is the question for the ages;

All the great sages and philosophers have pondered the issue,

and here is what they said (abridged):

Line Up: Conform to goodness in everything.

Move Forward: Challenges are not intended to thwart your trajectory.

Look Up: Nothing in the vast universe is beneath your notice.

Look Down on nothing and no one; 

atoms—as people—differ in constituency, 

but coexist together in the same metaphenomenon;

honor that truth by learning to be together

in cooperation with all that is.

Stop at nothing achieve your goals, even as they shift.

Be yourself, accept yourself, even as you change and grow;

you hardly know it, but you’re already a techie,

  inventing and reinventing yourself,

inside and out, in every moment.

When you accept all others as equals,

this is where all dialogue begins,

and today is where the seeds are planted

for the gardens of tomorrow;

All that is left to do, then, is tend them, wisely,

today and tomorrow—always.

© 2022 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen and songsofasouljourney.blogspot.com

For You Made Us So

                                        - a song for Pentecost and Pride

“Hear my prayer!“

“No, hear mine!”
“But, you must listen to us!”

all the day long, o—

Horns blaring;

Cymbals clanging;
Bells a-change-ringing;
but hearts of stone, all,
hearts of stone, o—

Mercifully and softly fell the night.
Mercifully and softly fell the rain.

With the softly broken morning,
sun beaming through soft clouds,
the dove came softly down,
carrying a rainbow in its bill.

And the predictable drumbeat started,
but, what a difference, o—
the new day makes!

I sing a song;
I sing a song softly, o—

And just like that,
everyone that can speak,
everyone, o—
everyone can hear!

Oh, Love Divine!

There is no need to yell,
is there?

You formed me:
inward and outward, you made me;
you know the sound of my voice,
you know the sound of my song, o— 

And on this day that you have made,
wherein you have made all things new,
I sing my song, softly,
and everyone can hear my song,
and everyone’s song, o—

For we are the music of the spheres
—for you made us so, o—

© 2022 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen and songsofasouljourney.blogspot.com

 

How to Shift the Universe

 

The omnīzon is the great bloom of events,
rather like an explosion of wildflowers
in the springtime of the year.

The trajectory of each subject coincides
with the trajectory of every object
arising from evolving space-time.

All that is real and true is here,
including all the secrets of nature
into which God has retreated, not withdrawn.

The intention of each wave and particle
is equally met by energy
from this sacred well of infinity.

Thoughts blossom, nestled within other thoughts,
billowing in all directions like bubbles and balloons,
some of which pop, while the others float onward.

Superseded thoughts remain threads of the fabric,
for nothing is gained, neither is it lost,
but that it might be found useful, sometime.

Words emerge along the fabric of thought;
shall they be seamed into action,
or shall they be knit as speculative plan?

What shall signify as intent is linear,
but the word as she is spoken and sung
is the event that makes worlds and music.

Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?
the query rings from the corporate stages
of the multidimensional concert hall.

This interruption, in future interrogatory mode,
signals present pressing need of other,
a cry from the unincorporated that cannot be ignored.

On the answer to this question
all future laws, prophets, devices and worlds depend;
the omnīzon and infinite space between await your reply.

For example, when I said, Here I am; send me,
the universe shifted, and when I ventured to ask, For how long?
came the reply: Until each now passes into each next, forever.

© 2022 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen and songsofasouljourney.blogspot.com

Note: I created the term omnīzon about 30 years ago, when I was toying with writing a science fiction journey novel loosely modeled on Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle and the chakra system. My manuscript is incomplete and unpublished, but the term I created lives on with me. What does it mean? The event of the cosmos happens in all directions simultaneously, and there are systems within systems within systems, as well as systems that impinge on other systems to draw or create energy. Every moment, however that is measured, is a new creation, the shifted/altered/re-formed universe. In science fiction, there is the important notion of responsibility for changes made to the space time continuum. If only every sentient being would live up to this responsibility!

Image credit:

Gordon Onslow-Ford

Constellations in Hand, 1961 

Parle's paint and aqua polymer on canvas;
permanent collection of SFMOMA

All The Infinite Space Between

 

Because there otherwise might be silence,
the stones cry out,
mind you on your way!

Freedom is economy,
rather than autonomy;
choice is not license,
but responsibility.

This walk,
through the valley of the shadow,
is about all our meetings with other
so as to see divinity—and also self
—reflected, as in a pool of infinite love.

Would it be a surprise
to know each being
is responsible even for the air
—which seems free for all to abuse—
and all the infinite space between?
How best to use it?

The veil over perception parts
with the realization that
agency is the abeyance of will
to meet subjective moment
objectively.

Otherwise, how is the cultivation of Eden possible?

© Elisabeth T. Eliassen and songsofasouljourney.blogspot.com

Final Interview for Civil Service Job

 

I had worked in the department as a part-timer in the temporary “send as needed” pool. What this meant is that I worked almost full-time, with no vacation time and only 24 hours of sick leave per year. [Think about that, for a minute.] The one huge benefit, which was something fairly new, was getting on the healthcare plan, after 6 months.

I worked through the entire pandemic in an office. [Think about that, for a minute.]

The people I worked with were fun, funny, quirky, and we mostly all got along. The supervisors were fun and engaged. I loved it there. 

As a temp, though, I was limited to a maximum of 18 months at that position. They throw you back in the pool and deploy you somewhere else. The oddity of a change in position classification meant that, by a technicality, I worked for a full 2 years in the position. As my 18 months (stretched to 24) was coming to an end, a permanent job offering for this classification was posted. I applied.

At first, my application was rejected. Why? The prerequisite was 2 full years of experience in the specific job, but HR said the experience from the temporary pool did not count. The job posting did not say that.

I told my supervisor, who told his supervisor, who got in touch with HR and made a fuss. I was later told that another applicant sued over that very issue, which put the entire hiring process on hold until the disputed details were sorted.

Eventually, I was informed that my 2 years of experience as a temp was sufficient for my application to move forward.

Over the next 9 months, I had 3 or maybe 4 interviews. Only the first interview was in person; the rest were via the Teams platform.

The last interview was a few weeks ago. The interview was supposed to take 20 minutes. I could not go home to do the interview (where I knew there would be no technical difficulty), as the office where I was currently working had a “4 person deep” policy for the end of the day. There had to be 4 people available to answer the phone – which seldom rang. [Think about that, for a minute.]

I had to use my own personal equipment from home, and try to get it to work within a basement office with poor outside internet service.

I prepared my phone and my laptop, and checked in with one of the supervisors. “Can you help me, if something goes wrong?” He said, “I’d be happy to!”

The time to log-on for the 3:50pm scheduled interview came. As luck would have it, neither my phone nor laptop would connect. The supervisor I’d gone to "in case of emergency" had, meanwhile, evaporated into thin air and was not to be found for the rest of the day.

In desperation, I ran to a work colleague. He came to my rescue and we were able to activate teams in the big conference room. The only problem was the camera was not set up; they could hear me but not see me. I ran to the nearest in-house IT guy, and he was able to help me with that part, while I profusely apologized to the interviewers and the HR moderator for the technical difficulties. My colleague whispered to me, “Don’t worry, this kind of thing happens all the time. It won’t be held against you.”

Finally, I could be seen and heard. I could see and hear the interviewers, both of whom I had worked with before. Lovely people, who looked tired and bored. I’m not sure, but this may have been the last interview scheduled for the day.

So, finally, the interview was under way, with all the usual questions: Why do you think you are ideal for the job?; How do you organize your work?; Give a specific example of a time when you dealt with a tough customer, and what was the outcome? Tell us about a time when you had a problem with a co-worker, and how was it resolved? 

Those questions answered, possibly in the usual way, the moderator said, “Thank you, that is all the questions we have for today. Is there anything you would like to add that was not touched on in your responses to the other questions?”

It is my answer to this (non)question, I believe, that got me the job. To the best of my memory, this is what I said:

“Yes, I do have a few remarks to add… 

"In all my interactions with members of the public, I try to help people have confidence in the agency.”

The interviewers looked up from their notes.

“People have to wait in line; they have to wait on the phone; they get cut off and have to start all over again. It is so easy to feel as though the agency, whatever agency it is, is unresponsive…

“One time, I answered the phone, and the lady on the other end said, ‘I’m sorry to interrupt your work.’ I paused for a moment before I responded, ‘You are my work… I mean, that’s why they hired me: To be here, for you. Sure, I have paperwork to do—this paperwork is for other people, such as you. All of the work done in this office is for you, so that your need(s) can be met, your problem(s) solved.’”

While I was talking, I was simultaneously thinking about my own encounters with phone trees and service representatives. I was also thinking about the word economy, which is from the Greek. The original meaning of the word encompasses the meeting of need and also hospitality. We think about this term so differently, today. I was also remembering that our county agencies are the true, in situ safety net for people in need. This does not mean that they always work well, but the intent is service for the people.

I went on, “People are tired of the inefficiencies of our systems, not always calibrated to interact well. When they call on the phone, after sending emails that seem to go into a black hole, they are understandably frustrated. The county worker is where the rubber meets the road, the nexus of those programs that are funded by state and sometimes federal tax dollars. We are intended to bridge the gap between our core technical inefficiencies, so that people can receive the aid for which they’ve applied. This work is about access; it’s about equity; it’s about inclusion; it’s about needs being met from within the community. Drill that down, my friends, and that is democracy in action.”

The interviewers, throughout these comments, seemed to perk up. Eyebrows twitched; there were small smiles; there was the added scribbling of notes.

In a moment, it was over. I thanked everyone for their patience with the technical glitches, for having heard me, and wished them well for the rest of their day. 

There is so much rhetoric about bootstrapping and self-sufficiency, out and about in our world. The truth of the matter is that we are not lone rangers; rather we are members of communities. Citizenship, from the earliest meanings of the term, assumes the offer of communal assistance to those whose needs cannot otherwise be met. Citizenship more than implies responsibility to one’s neighbor, as well as to any person identified as “other.” 

Of course, this doesn’t mean such interactions are easy, and that they don’t come with a price. But they are sorely needed, in a world full of need and expectation. As is true for poets, civil servants don’t get into this work to become millionaires… and they put up with a lot of abuse while they don’t become millionaires… So, there must be another reason why people choose this work…

This may merely prove that I am still an idealistic dreamer, after all these years. I’ll own it.

I start work on Monday morning.