William Butler Yeats wrote —
I believe in the practice and philosophy of what we have agreed to call magic, in what I must call the evocation of spirits, though I do not know what they are, in the power of creating magical illusions, in the visions of truth in the depths of the mind when the eyes are closed; and I believe in three doctrines, which have, as I think, been handed down from early times, and been the foundations of nearly all magical practices. These doctrines are—
(1) That the borders of our minds are ever shifting, and that many minds can flow into one another, as it were, and create or reveal a single mind, a single energy.
(2) That the borders of our memories are as shifting, and that our memories are a part of one great memory, the memory of Nature herself.
(3) That this great mind and great memory can be evoked by symbols.
I often think I would put this belief in magic from me if I could, for I have come to see or to imagine, in men and women, in houses, in handicrafts, in nearly all sights and sounds, a certain evil, a certain ugliness, that comes from the slow perishing through the centuries of a quality of mind that made this belief and its evidences common over the world.
We live in world that puts far less stock in magic than it once did. More’s the pity, I think. I’ve always had a hunger for it, be it real or imagined.
The art and science of it, the trial and error, is never far from my mind.
I keep my eye open for random acts of magic when I’m not in the practice of it. It’s all around us you see. In everything and everywhere, whether you choose to believe it or not.
On this mystically merry Midwinter, I wish for you a day filled with many magical moments.
Magic is as magic does, and it does quite well if you keep silent a bit, ear to the ground and eye on the sky.
To the weavers and wanderers, the horn is raised.
May Midwinter find you well and true.