Cat Magick

I have a tick.  A nervous, gutteral tick that shimmies and shakes that takes hold among my long Portland walks...

When I see a cat, I have to pet it.

Often leading me chasing unresponsive ones around stranger's premises.  Because , I won't let up until I get that cat.  I can't.  Otherwise my day is doomed...

I understand how ludicrous that may sound, but I often liken it to be a tad more practical than saying a few "Hail Mary's" to atone for sins.  Right?

I was raised Catholic for the first half of my childhood, and Jewish for the latter.  The only things the two disparate-but-equal religions instilled is a sense of supernatural causality.  That the most mundane routines will change the outcome of ethereal events.  Superstition became a superpower to me.  Like a man channeling the voice of absurdity to manifestation.  

I keep a manifestation log.  Usually, when I awake, I jot what I want to seize in the day. Don't think this is the grocery-aisle philosophy that's behind "The Secret."  I only write down the practical outcomes that may await, i.e. "Tonight I will perform a fully focused and well-recieved musical set that will garnish more listeners for future events." I end it with "This is my manifestiation for [insert date here]." And sign it.  Forever cementing my intent for the day. 

Because intention is the only thing that marks a creative voice.

I believe we all have to account for ourselves.  That hard-earned responsibility has helped me find the intention behind these odd exercises, whether it be having to pet every cat I see, manifestation logs, meditation in the shower (not what you think, well, maybe), or praying.  Simply praying.  I pray.  I pray every day that my intention to be a realized creative force in this world manifests.  I don't blame ethereal weight for keeping me down.  I blame myself for any inertia manifested.

Recently, at a boutique here in Portland, I came across this shirt in the window:  



And Ultra-Culture posted this in their Facebook feed the same day: "Cat magick cast out all drones."

These two experiences happening "coincidentally" on the same day I often refer to "Fat Magick", or the appearance mundane causality:  

Things have accumulated in visceral, somewhat predictable, nuances. They accumulate from spastic jokes told only to myself in transit to somewhere, or from itchy dreams that never resolve to be dreams at all. Things that ignite cognitive appreciation before they even exist. “Accidental manifestations and trivial incantations.”
— "Fat Magick" -

This sense of empowerment was not heaven sent, obviously.  I've spent a lot of my youth a drug addled thief and amoral terror.  I learned the hard way.  Or, I just pet enough cats.