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Pathways of Fire

The title of this article refers to a technique of esoteric practice I developed and began using some years ago as part of my meditative work. With it, I would bring a sigil or “galdrastafir” up in my mind’s eye, drawing the lines in massive scale on a field of dirt.

When I had completed the sigil, I set it aflame in my vision, the whole thing the size of a football field burning its shape into the back of my eyelids. From there, I let the flame die down to coals, bright and orange, still smoking, and I “brought myself down” to the field.

Once there, “in person,” I began to walk the fiery pathway, placing myself “inside” the sigil, and walking its entire shape, sometimes stopping at various points to peform meditation or ritual in this created space, that I had designed and imagined for specific purposes or uses.

I have used this technique countless times over the years, and I still find it to be an extremely valuable practice not only for mental control and visualization discipline, but to truly “know” my own sigils and symbols inside and out through placing myself within their imagined structure and re-creating a physical understanding of a non-physical concept or idea. This method has deepened my practice in many ways, not least of which is using this to inform my sigil creation, with the understanding that later on, I will be “physically” there, a part of it, and can “write in” areas or locations of importance, using the specificity gained from a “bird’s eye view” of the entire process.

I begin by explaining this, because it has also informed the way I have begun to look at life in general. I have ceased to view my life with the tunnel vision of one who forges blindly forward to an unknown future, at the mercy of cause and effect, able only to observe the happenings along the way, with a limited ability to foresee what will come next.

Instead, I try to see my existence from above- looking downward at the entirety of the story as though it were a large tapestry being woven as I watch, some areas more “completed” than others, but most of it made of raw materials, threads that do not yet lead anywhere, actions that have not yet come to fruition…

The weave is not bound by time, but rather exists as an expression of the ideas of time and space being of the same materials- therefore, an action unfolding now can affect “finished” parts of the weave, which are infinitely changeable, always layering new designs over the old ones, but using the old design as a “pattern” on which to lay the new.

With this approach, I feel liberated from the short forward march of time- the concept that all I have is in between birth and death- a single, fragile thread leading from one point to another without deviation. What a prison! What a limiting perception!

Because the way we choose to perceive our existence is so important (since we cannot know what is factually correct, and can only then inform our actions with our own sense of Truth), it matters how we look at the principles of cause and effect. It will shape our persona, our mode of living, the skin we drape over our souls and interact with this world of flesh and bone and flickering light. Instead of being at the mercy of cause and effect, we must BECOME cause and effect, or at the very least, be able to see our strands from above, making educated decisions on the playing field, able to say to ourselves, “if this, then this.”

From here, we can also bring things into our path- we simply find the strand we are looking for that touches the other strands that we wish to make contact with, and we pluck them, or weave them together, drawing sigils with our actions, our words, our movements. We can be deliberate artists, painting what we wish to see on this canvas- weaving the designs that we want to; our fabric is not at the behest of random forces, only called thus because of our former blindness.

Like the muscles, we train our abilities here, and they grow stronger, more controlled. What before we saw as “involuntary movement” is now “conscious effort in a specific direction.” We must be present- we must be practiced. By doing this, we move from the novice level to much greater heights, and we become a virtuoso. Our lives are our own, in the true sense of the word.

Once we begin to realize this, it allows us to be “on”, for lack of a better word, at all times. We understand that what we do, no matter how insignificant it seems, layers new threads and new strands- this gives us a great responsibility to take care what we say, what we do, and where those threads lead, what other ones they interact with, how that will change the design of the whole.

Each word is a spell of creation or destruction spiralling outward from our center into the great expanse, honey or venom, life or death, leading from one word to another, from one deed to another. It cannot be stressed enough, this responsibility. WE SHAPE OUR OWN LIVES. We are like the raw material on an anvil, but we are also the anvil, and the hammer, and the arm that wields it with art.

Knowing this, we can see that there is no time to waste on frivolity. Enjoyment, certainly, for this life should be enjoyed, played with great cunning and humor; but it should be PLAYED, not OBSERVED! Each time we relax, and let the flow take its own course, we relinquish our masterpiece, our Great Work, to the hands of others, who do not understand the grand plans we have for it. For none but you have the keys to this kingdom- none but you can hear the strains of this symphony playing out with each clever variant, and given over to others, it will become a cacophony.

We must have consonance. The whole must be seen from above, and once this is done, a feeling of awe and terror, a great joy and a great sorrow. This is because we see that there is no grand plan but our own, there is no other hand inscribing our fate- it is us, alone. Some will be crushed by the emptiness of that knowledge, where others will embrace this terrible responsibilty and make of themselves what we can only know by the word LEGEND. Take up the strands and weave something of wonder, or sever the threads and go down into darkness.

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