A lot of Western occultism and philosophy use the metaphor of sleep. As in we live in a world that lulls us to sleep, and that the spiritual practices and magickal Work help us to awaken to fullness…

It sometimes feels like a good half of my life is spent in a fitful slumber, occasionally punctuated by moments of wakefulness and awareness.

Dear Friends,

I wrote this on my Facebook Status the other day…

Yes.  I am, yet again, returning to Practice.  Spiritual and Religious and Magickal practice.  Although since one of my ideas is that Magick is at it’s heart a Spiritual Practice… like say meditation or prayer…. it seems strange to itemize them.

Then too, there is my own use of “Journey” for my spiritual… well….path.

(A LOT of the language for a spiritual/religious/philosophical life seems to be movement oriented doesn’t it?)

Anyhow, the last few years have seen some detours and time broken down by the side of the road resting and maybe repairing myself.  My readings, and discussions with other religious/spiritual traveler’s, tell me that this is not a rare thing.

Today I Grounded and Centered, I blessed water, I made offerings to The Ancestors and The Household Spirits, I did a Spiritual Cleansing Exercise, and I wrote in my log book about how strong and familiar and renewing it felt… despite my glaring lack of practice the last few years.

I find myself wondering if, given that the words we use are one of the simplest ways we shape ourselves and our world, does using the metaphor of wakefullness require us to sleep?  Does the metaphor of the journey mean that at times we must face a bumpy or tiring road?  What words might I use instead?

“Be careful what you ask for…”

~said every magick and spirit worker ever!

Should I even bother reshaping my language around these efforts and experiences I undertake?  I mean, there is little point in engaging in these things if you can’t find friends and allies to share them with…. a shared language allows communication and reflection and inspiration through interaction with others.

It also occurs to me that the challenges implied by the metaphors we use are apparently always a part of the journey.  They are called spiritual and religious ‘practices’ because that is what we are supposed to do with them, practice, again and again.  Sometimes with less than spectacular results and in drudgery, with growing competency and polish, and occasional moments of excellence… losing ourselves in the wonder of it all.

I find myself accepting the challenge that whatever language we use to shape our spiritual practice and journey, however we are struggling to awaken, it requires the detours and the struggle.  Why else to they call it the great Work?

What do you think?