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Synchronicity is the sign that magic has worked. Magic, if we skip Crowleys succinct “the Science and Art of causing Change to occur in conformity with Will”, magic is simply the practice of “manufacturing coincidence”. How do we know if magic “took”? We would see coincidences which are meaningful to us. Right now nature loves me. I was sitting on my back deck and enjoying watching some deer mill around in front of my beehive eating my weeds. This, by itself, isn’t particularly interesting as much as I view it as an affirmation that I have a well kept back yard and that nature, as a whole, is comfortable with my relationship with it. I hunt, so the deer and I have a very good relationship, and I think they’re beautiful animals. I view the hunt as a sort of sacrament in blood unto itself. I love the deer, and they provide for me and my family come winter time. In the eternal chase of the sum of human evolution, I can’t think of an animal which is more deserving of veneration within the european context. For the native americans, that animal was the North American Buffalo. The buffalo, before being hunting almost to extinction because of an unhealthy relationship with nature, were responsible for motivating everything about the local ecosystem that cared for the people who dwelt within it. Their hooves turned over the earth, and acted as a sort of plough for the grasslands. Compared to north american cows, which have flat hooves and compact the earth, the buffalo acted as natures farmers when it came time to till the soil. Similarly, their poop was responsible for re-planting that very same field they walked over, and transporting seeds. Their hides became homes and clothes. Their meat, last but not least, provided sustenance for the people who cared for them. Within the context of the deer, all this very much holds true. Unlike the buffalo, however, the deer have always maintained an independent spirit. They have never been commercially farmed or raised. Even in places like New Zealand where the deer are commercially farmed, they refuse to be penned up and maintain their wild spirits.
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As I was sitting on my porch, working remotely, I suddenly took to the notion of being observed. This isn’t entirely out of the ordinary, I happen to live in a wooded area but the neighbors can see into each others yard from the right angle through the trees. I figured it was them or my children. As I went to get some more tobacco and enjoy the deer, my gaze fell upon the darkness of the woods through the misting rain. There! A man! A masculine presence. I stood there for 10 minutes watching him, astounded that someone would take the time to walk through the woods and take an interest in me. I couldn’t shake the notion of being watched, and I assumed he was a hunter as his dress was a perfect emulation of the pawpaw trees growing in that region of the forest. The likeness of a person was still evident, as if that person were made from the leaves of the woods absolutely perfectly. We stood watching each other for 10 minutes. He remained motionless, and stoic. After some time the sense of being watched started to abate. I went to my door and proceeded down into the yard intending to share some comradely with the fellow hunter and ask how his luck had been. When I got to his spot, I found he was gone.