Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Magic Week: How to Summon Manatees

I love manatees.  On a list of my absolute favorite things, in which I include things like "my parents" and "my friends," manatees are easily in the top 20.

This is the story of how I summoned manatees.

My family has a house on a bay in Southwest Florida, and you can see manatee from our dock maybe once a week.  Last March I was visiting and saw one on my second day down there.  When I told my mom, she told me she hadn't seen one at all that season.  I felt bad for her.  Because manatees are awesome.

Here's where the magic happens.

I spent a good part of my week visiting in a state of deep meditation and contemplation of the aspects of my environment of which we are generally unaware.  In that state, I remember wishing my mom could see a manatee, because it wasn't fair that anyone should not get to appreciate something so gentle and wonderful.

Within maybe two hours a manatee cruised on by.  So did another one two days later.

I will now take questions from the audience


You know people can find anything you put up on the Internet, right?
Yes.  Potential employers and soul mates, I am not insane, nor will I ever attempt to hex you.  Even I knew how, I wouldn't, and it wouldn't work.  Anyway, please finish this entry.  It should dispel any questions about my sanity.

So...you can summon manatees?  Like right now you could summon a manatee?
Right now?  No.  Even if I were in Florida, it's the cold season, when manatees are less active.  I don't know if I could replicate the combination of deep gnosis and sincere unselfishness that was key to my success.  Most importantly, it doesn't work like that, at least in my experience.  Nature is really big and really complex.  Each of us is pretty small.  We don't get to snap our fingers and make nature do tricks at our command.

Could I get myself into the right state of mind in the right time of year and summon them again?  I certainly intend to try when I go down there later this year.  I may succeed, I may not.

If you can't do it again, did it really happen?
Given a million chances, you could never recreate the first events that led to falling in love for the first time.  It took a combination of effort, circumstance, and luck that you could never again replicate.  Magic isn't quite like that.  If I were a more dedicated or capable magician, I probably could get manatees to show up again. The point is that replication is not everything.  Stuff happens all the time that we can't recreate, but that doesn't make it less real.  It still happened.

Ok, so what exactly do you think you did, summoner?
Two things, the first of which is pretty prosaic.  I put myself in a state where I was far more likely to notice any manatee activity.  The type of meditation I was in made the entire world incredibly interesting.  I spent at least an hour just looking at the different flowers and plants in our yard.  I savored the smells of the water.  It's not surprising I was better able to hear when a manatee breached or recognize the ripples in the water they make.

The other thing?  I was in a great mental place.  The universe recognize that and sent out some signals, and the sea cows obliged.  It's magic, fool.  I don't know how it works.  I'll get into some of the justifications better magicians than I give for how it might work in tomorrow's post, but even they are only guessing.  There are forces at work in the universe that we cannot directly perceive or explain,.  But we may, if we're lucky, good, and persistent, be able to tap into them.

Or it was just coincidence.
It certainly doesn't feel that way.  In my heart of hearts, I am completely sure I did something magical that day.  Nothing will ever convince me otherwise.  But you could be right, skeptic.  Maybe it was coincidence.  I can't prove that it wasn't.  Ultimately, it comes down to what you want to believe.

And you really believe this?
Nothing is true.  Everything is permitted.


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