Protection and Security

“Before you enter a house

inspect every entrance,

look around, —

for who can tell

whether enemies

are not in that dwelling.

…

the wise strive

to listen keenly

and to watch sharply”

(Words of the High One)

Among modern Magi there is a romantic notion that embarking on this Way automatically makes a person invulnerable, or at least protected. It is obvious that a state of security is far more effective than the tension produced by the need to defend oneself.

Indeed, could not the Power of the Magus, far greater than those around him, protect him from dangers without special effort? The state of the Magus is one of complete confidence in his Power and authority over himself. Could such a state not confer security?

Very many Magi have fallen victim to that notion. As soon as a Magus notices that his Power has increased, the world seems to yield, he stops defending himself, and — perishes. And only because he believes himself to have reached a state of security earlier than he really has. A Magus attains security when he ceases to move, when he reaches the goal. But the Way does not imply arriving at the goal; it is movement toward a goal that is infinitely distant.

One cannot speak of a state of security on the Way; indeed, the two are opposites: the Way means motion and imbalance, while security means wholeness and rest.

In other words, a system is protected only when it is in equilibrium, which is incompatible with movement: to move one must leave states of equilibrium, or rather — pass from one conditionally balanced state to another.

Moreover, Magic requires receptivity; one cannot be a good Magus without scanning his surroundings, indeed without peering behind the fabric of worlds. But by opening such “lines of contact,” the Magus again loses security.

Paradoxically, instead of granting invulnerability, the Way of Magic opens its adepts to all winds of the cosmos, exposing them to numerous predators previously held back by the solidity and certainty of human myth. Especially dangerous is the idea that the Way itself protects beginners, those who have only just set out on it. At the beginning of the Way, when Power intoxicates and new horizons beckon, the traveler is most vulnerable. And that is why so many of those who have experience of this movement bear scars — they were attacked until they learned to fight, to defend themselves — that is, to be warriors.

Thus, in practice, one who is protected is either a blind and immobile Magus or a Magus who has achieved unity with the Stream of Power. Both imply the absence of a Way: in the first case the Way is at best an illusion, and in the second the personal Way is replaced by the general Way of the Cosmos.

That is why the Magus who moves forward and honestly faces the world lives in a constant state of battle; that is why the Magus’s Way is the Way of the warrior. The Magus’s militancy is not the fruit of his aggression, but a vital necessity, intended to give him the chance to continue on his Way.

Those who embark on the Way of Magic must understand this clearly: to move one must be open, and that means being vulnerable. So rather than consoling oneself with fairy tales about one’s grandeur and security, it is better to study the strategy and tactics of magical combat; otherwise one will have to abandon the Way of Magic — and be grateful if one manages to escape it alive.