magic

there is a pool in the orchard of apples, 

and a high wall with an unseen door. 

there is a salmon that darts 

among little fishes, 

and a shadow that looms dark. 

there is a great sword of red bronze, 

and a little book of ivory and gold. 

there is a name concealed, 

and a laughter not spoken.

He had spent a lifetime without giving much thought to magic. As a child, he had thought, as most Americans in the ‘50s and ‘60s had, that magic was mere ignorance and superstition, easily discounted and refuted with rational scientific inquiry. Later, his evangelical orthodox Christian faith had informed him that magic was far more serious; that it represented the dark core of Satanic evil in the practice of humankind.

But now he had begun to look at all things with a new sense of discrimination and objectivity. The common beliefs of his peers could no longer enforce themselves on him simply because the group assumed them to be true. Now he must look long and hard at everything. Now he must study and consider every possibility openly and without investment in a particular conclusion. He could not dismiss possible outcomes simply because they had been deemed foolish, or even dangerous or evil. He must honestly evaluate them on their merits, and hold his mind open to new insights even after conclusions had been formed. And so it was with magic.

A very large part of magic seemed to subsist in the application and practice of secret knowledge and esoteric skill intertwined and bound with a heavy dose of intuitive power and perception. Beekeeping was a classic case in point. A beekeeper is usually a person who has an intuitive affinity to honeybees. This is, in most cases, very powerful. This affinity draws the one who bears it into study and present participation in the practice of beekeeping. As the novice learns more and more, by theory and experience, of the life and nature and behavior of the beehive and its occupants, he or she eventually grows confident to “charm” the bees with little or no protective gear. This is possible only because the beekeeper has, by observation, study, and practice, learned the true nature of the bees.

It is this knowing the true nature of a thing that is at the heart of magic. In the case of beekeeping, the practitioner understands, among other things, the triggers and early warnings of defensive behavior. She or he respects and understands these things and uses that understanding to manipulate the hive without incident.

A beekeeper also understands his or her place in the scheme of things, and knows that the bees have a right to their own defense. Receiving a sting is not an affront to a self-respecting beekeeper, but rather a mark of commitment to the knowledge. Stings are the very thing that protect and conceal the knowledge of the bees. Were it not for the real threat of being stung, one could easily keep bees without need of this knowledge and craft. And one could plunder the bees without respect or regard for their place. But the threat of even a single sting is enough to keep anyone lacking that intuitive connection to the bees from ever pursuing the knowledge that therefore remains obscure. Beekeepers generally are not secretive about their craft. They tend to talk freely on the subject. It is rather the hearers that keep the knowledge of bees hidden. Most who hear of the lore and craft of beekeeping dismiss it outright, unwilling to apply or even retain it because of their fear of the sting. And so, the secret is safe, even as its practitioners shout it from the rooftops.

Much that is considered magic is like beekeeping. Knowledge of the hidden nature of things is applied in ways that produce dramatic results. To the degree that knowledge is hidden, we call these manipulations magic. When the knowledge becomes common, we call it technology. Science is the business of transforming magic to technology; of bringing secret knowledge into the public domain. And as often as not, secrets are perpetuated as much by closed minds and hearts as by any true absence of information.

The realm of magic appears to be much larger than the potential of science as we know it currently. The intuitive and spiritual aspects of the universe are far too complex and illusive to be reduced to technology, or to effectively be derived by science. The scope of science today is more or less limited to the physical world. Magic, however, is boundless, and reaches wherever the nature of things is concealed. Magic is very much the business of knowing, often at an intuitive level, the true name of a thing; of respecting and understanding the significance and power of the hidden nature of that thing.

Many traditions value and guard the secrecy of the true names of people, animals and things, respecting the power that deep understanding gives. As he pondered this fact, he began to understand that knowing the true name of a thing was far more than simply knowing a word held in secret. In many traditions, a boy or girl receives a new, secret name at initiation into adulthood. This act is powerful and profoundly significant, but now he began to see that it could only be a small representation of the true reality of the hidden nature of the person receiving the name.

The true name of a person or thing must be far more than any secret word could possibly contain. He was beginning to realize the profound power and depth of understanding that long-held intimate friendship could provide in the process of knowing the true name of another; the extraordinary responsibility and commitment that came when a true friend revealed him- or herself in confidence. This was magic at its most profound level.