Practical Witchery! by John Stormm (e book free reading .txt) đź“–
- Author: John Stormm
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About this time; the lightning flashes brightly from the east, and I heard the sound of a trumpet (more like a hunting horn) in the thunder. The chains dropped off of me to the ground, as if they were made of cheap Chinese plastic. The whipping stopped, as the men freaked out at what was happening before them now. I looked down at myself, and saw that my skin was fresh, and unscarred. My once bloody sheet had become a fine silken scarlet kilt. I felt honored to wear it, like a badge of honor. My skin glows under a light that had taken over the stormy skies and I turned my gaze upon my cowering tormentors. I look at them and say: “Greetings, in the Name of the Lord”. It had sounded to me, like something they had good reason to fear."
The visions happened many times, even on a bright summer's day, and sometimes in slightly different contexts. But they always ended with me transforming to something glowing and immortal, and greeting them "in the Name of the Lord". Sometimes there was a note of forgiveness there. Sometimes, it wasn't appropriate to the souls confronted. I've been pagan my whole life, even after I had decided to follow Jesus; I did so in the truest context of my pagan heart. So, how I found myself delivered out of my torment, and addressing anyone as a representative of the Lord (as I know him; I'm still not "churchy"), intrigued me to no end.
Interpretation:
I figured that this meant that I was going to have to endure something, which involved the government obstructing or hindering me in some way. But in this scenario: My help comes and everything changes, with my changing. I figured it might be some indicator that I would be alive and unhappy about my situation, when the "Rapture" happens. All that year, especially in Summer Court (I did say I was a lifelong pagan) I'd see all these visions, of the ground spitting out burning sulfur, and splitting open. I saw Lake Ontario racing southwards across the state, for a new beach, somewhere in the Southern Tier. I saw the water dragon (looked like a plesiosaur) swimming south, into the deep and widening Genesee River. No humans would be living here anymore afterwards, is what the dryads and zephyrs told me of those times. The imagery strikes me as apocalyptic as the prophesies of Jeremiah, Daniel and Revelation, speaking of the “Fall of Babylon the Great”. I *am* indeed enduring a terrible trial at the hands of the corrupt State and Federal Government, and not allowed to fly, or even leave the country, though I am no criminal, I am still their “prisoner”.
I have had other visions of my life and service after this time, that were bright and promising. I remember being in a great and bloody war, where I charged armies with a small group of war unicorns. I remember riding all the way from the Middle East, to the beautiful mountains of China. I remember falling in love with a bunch of Asian farmers, and adopting a whole countryside as my own children, and teaching them good craft. I remember teaching and entertaining a swarm of Asian children. Dancing and singing, I looked like a blue eyed, seven foot tall version of the Chinese "Pai Mei", in snowy white robes. I was happier than I ever was, when I was raising my own children, and that is saying an incredible lot for me. It strikes me as even more distant visions, of a farther future time that indicates that the apocalyptic horrors to come, are by no means the “End of the World”, but the current paradigm. Only time will truly tell.
Sometimes things will look impossibly bleak for me. But I've been watching the world change into this for over three decades now. No matter how sick I've gotten or have yet: I know in my soul that my future is still eternal and bright, and that I will happily spend a grand portion of that limitless horizon, bringing love and enlightenment, to a great many younger souls than myself. When my eyes are closed, and I'm smiling very confidently: It is my future I see, and I understand that no matter what befalls me here: that this is the next step in my evolution as a human soul, and that Lucifer, Satan or whatever anyone wants to name this darkness, has no power over this at all. Only me, by my own personal choices, at specific junctures, and I keep that knowledge in my heart.
Sometimes dreaming of the "bad news" is just the news we need, to turn it into "good news". Most don't get to see anything at all. They meet their futures, as unaware as a man on the tracks of a speeding freight train... WHAM! So what I once saw as a "curse" has become my "great blessing". Because something is more plainly shown, in the prophesies of someone else’s religion: Does NOT invalidate them for the visions that they are. I don’t see the Creator God, as so petty and malicious, as so many small minded bigots will paint Him. Jesus’ New Testament was written in Greek, for the First Century Gentiles/PAGANS!
It was written in a language, and with terms that pagans could understand, and there was a great deal of a bigger message in all of that than “get religious and die”. He was never recorded as saying much good about anyone’s religion at all. Instead of looking at all of the divisions and differences of people, I began to look at what similarities were found of “godly” people, of ANY and ALL cultures. And just like Jesus said: You’ll know a tree by its fruit, and it became plain that the Creator/ God loves them ALL. And He gave them dreams and visions, and encouraged them after the manner of their peoples and cultures. I took all these writings and prophesies in a MUCH bigger context and applied what they taught me, to my everyday life and spirituality.
That "kinsman redeemer" thing in The Book of RUTH (Old Testament): Jesus/Boaz doesn't "own" my soul. The title deed is all mine, because He purchased it for me and gave it back to me. But I know him as I would an elder brother, in a very BIG way, and join him of my own choosing. I’m not the first pagan witch that He told: “Follow me!“ It's a wonderful thing to fully own your own soul. Most people here are very much owned at every turn. I suppose this must be where my "chains fell off". But it's a good path to be on. I am, who I am, even as you are, who YOU are. We do not become this one’s, or that one’s religion and disdain everyone else. We take knowledge and apply it to wisdom, and we become better souls, in ourselves, than we were yesterday. Forget the offering plates, and simply give the best of yourselves to whomever that you find in need of either, a good shoulder to cry on, or a strong shoulder to lift them up. No matter what you call yourself: This we agree: Is the “will of a loving, great and wonderful God”.
Artificing as Spellcraft
Artificing: The crafting of magical tools and weapons.
Again, it is important that you understand that the main thrust of my writings here, are not WHAT to think about this aspect or that one. But to understand WHY , and under what precepts or foundations that these things work, so that you may be able to properly determine for yourself, HOW these things are accomplished. Artificing is no small part of witchery, and specifically, spellcraft as it accomplishes the specific goals of creating proper and effective tools for wise applications. A workman with poor tools, can only be expected to do only so much with them, before they fail at their tasks, and as I’ve said numerous times already: A wise witch does NOT rely upon LUCK, but manufactures their own brand of “luck”, leaving nothing to common circumstance. I’m taking these things, and ancient writings, out of their former context of “religions mysteries”, and trying to make you see, and understand the wisdom of your own ancient ancestry.
In many of the legends of old, or even in your own family history: You may have heard of “named weapons” or tools, as the cases may be. These were items beyond the norm or average means. This is much in the same way that “Excalibur” was more than just a mere “sword”. It had its own name, designating that it was an item that held its own peculiar “destiny”. Or we could even be speaking of B.B. King’s guitar, “Lucille”. Between the musician, and the particular item of his respective craft, there is an undeniable relationship, that pushes the boundaries of what they may accomplish, to an even greater degree. So, for the purpose of this chapter on Artificing, we will capitalize this word, to set it apart from mere crafting, to pulling into play, as many “influences” as we can, to set these implements apart from the norm. Mysteries are for those who allow them to be so. But for YOU, my dearest readers: They are subjects of study, knowledge and wise application to your own craft. What is under the generic “catch all” label as “magick”: are defined into greater detail for the wise witch and wizard!
Where does all of this ancient knowledge come from? I’m glad that you asked! There are MANY ancient tales of where all varieties of our craft has come from. Whether you are acknowledging, what the “religious” crowd loves to adore as myth and magic, as perhaps The Book of Enoch. Or whether you are subscribing to the theory of Ancient Astronauts, with the translated Sumerian texts of Zecharia Sichen: It is commonly claimed that such knowledge came to us by rebel “gods”, or beings from the stars, who gave our civilization, what they believed to be, a much needed boost, to get our ancient kin to the point, where they could be of some productive use for their purposes. There are many opinions of what that “use” was or might have been. But for our own purposes here, we’ll stick with those sciences or crafts, that we can make some use of our own for.
My purpose in writing this, is to bring you all into your own power, and not so much under those, who hold power over you. We’ve agreed
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