One starts to realize how much of what the world considers “spiritual” and how much of what the world considers “magic” are very much the same things, yet those two worlds have been fighting with one another for centuries. We burn a witch, but we flock to Christian healers. Only a Saint can perform miracles, yet miracles are performed in our hospitals every day. People can’t fly by their own locomotion, yet we typically portray Angels as people with wings and assume they fly all the hell over the heavens.
So if one is human, and one feels oneself becoming more “spiritual”, or perhaps just more “magic”, or perhaps even more likely, becoming acquainted with newly discovered super-powers that were not there yesterday, like growing hair on your balls at 12, or discovering the ability to speak in tongues at a Pentecostal revival service at 33, or discovering wings growing out your damn back and a halo growing out your damn head at 52, is one spiritual or magic? Or is one just evolving? Or is one merely losing ones mind?
In any case, that little voice in the back of your head, your conscious, your own personal Jiminy Cricket, your instincts, becomes suddenly very loud and very clear about little stupid things.
So yesterday, I bought a pair of green jeans. Kelly green, clover green, putty green, all mixed together in the perfect shade of fabric dye and applied expertly by the wonder-boys at Levi’s. I’m really too old to bother with that whole Fashion Victim bullshit anymore, and mostly just wear what is comfortable and appropriate and boring. Green jeans are not something that would normally catch my eye, much less my consideration.
But something inside said that I need them. And when one is Becoming Angel, one doesn’t question why, one merely does.