On Becoming an Adept. Or how QUAREIA works.
I remember the moment well when we saw the idea for the first time. When that single thought lit up like a spark, and Josephine shared she now could see what we needed to do. For months we had discussed our Western magical tradition, its past, its flaws, its misperception as well as its beauty, its power and the potential to come to live again, hidden amongst its rubble and fragments. From all these discussions we both understood what was truly missing was not the temple, but a route of entry that allowed people to stay sane and whole before they had passed through its first few halls. Finding magic wasn't the problem, but walking with it turned out to be.
It was Josephine's genius to see the missing link: The reinvention of Ballett training by Agrippina Vaganova. The ability to dissect whole choreographies into singular movements, and singular movements into bodily turns and bodily turns into conscious muscle motions and muscle motions into impulses of will and control. And so on. Until you reach an entity that is completely within your current level of control. And then you train. And train it again, and again and again. See, Quareia is a school of mastery, of adepthood. Following its path will leave many scars on you. What you receive in return is the freedom to forge your own path.
Let me illustrate the mechanics behind this process: Once we have trained how to create motions at the smallest level, everything else turns into a matter of continued exploration and persistence. Once we have mastered the smallest motion, what ultimately keeps us from creating whole evening-long choreographies is all within our own reach: It's not talent or gifts. It's the level to which we are prepared to hold on to our dream, despite all the longings, beauty and armour we are bound to loose on its path. -- Quareia is a bootcamp of spectacular depth and breadth. It is a school like no other and will teach you how to 'dance' like no other. It does not teach you, however, how to dream up your own choreographies.
Don't get me wrong - I am not speaking about creativity here. And let's move from metaphor to reality: Quareia - if you dare to want, if you are prepared to train 30min each day for say ten years - it will turn you into the person you are meant to be. Who that is, you won't know until you get there. You might get a glimpse in year three or five or maybe seven. Until then you are meant to shut up and get on with the work - or get out of this place altogether. Trust nothing but the power of persistence and the impact of your own experience. Then spirits will teach you what you are meant to be, not Quareia. Quareia - its tools - doesn't do a lot. Except for establishing a platform on which you and them can gather. Except for offering a language you and them can both speak. Quareia at its essence is empowerment.
If you follow its path consider yourself in the business of turning yourself into a spiritual adult. Now, the paradox on this path is this: For many years you'll be the baby, the teenager and the adult all in one person. Life doesn't come with an instruction leaflet; all boundaries are temporary in nature. As part of your journey with the Quareia material nobody will disciplinise you, except for yourself. And nobody will praise you, except for yourself. Someone once said, 'Integrity is what you do when nobody is watching'. Without integrity you can still have a fulfilled live, believe me. You might even be able to become a magician in the traditional, sad sense. But you certainly won't get anywhere with Quareia.
'Writing your own choreographies' in magic doesn't mean to push yourself into artifical creativity. It doesn't mean to invent your own rites, develop your own magical alphabet or like I once thought it did, to attempt to undertake whole ritual cycles. Performing the Abramelin ritual in its entire duration - if you really want to waste that much time and breath - is still training camp. 'Writing your own choreographies' means to consciously apply yourself to the world. Often times it means stopping to perform magic altogether. Magic then - in its ritual sense - turns into an ephemeral state, a rite of passing, a series of years you have spent in a workshop crafting yourself under the guidance of spirits. But what do you do once you are crafted? The ultimate question is: How do you choose to apply yourself to the world?
Think about it: What if we were all born as perfect magicians from day one? What then? What would be next? What would we do with these mighty powers? With our ability to see the whole, glowing network of intricate connections at once, and place our breath on each link like the foot of a rope-walker? Where would we walk towards then? -- Each day would turn into a hammer and chisel that we bring down on the world. And ourselves. And the spirits around us. Think about it. Do you really want to life a live led by integrity? Saying 'no' is no shame at all; it saves you a lot of trouble and scars. You just need to accept never to become an adept in the mystical sense.
If you happen to read this and you are younger than say 30, I suggest that's how you'd think about magic. At least for a while. Consider magic a dark room you enter and emerge from 10 years later as a different being. Yes, you'll have some superpowers and also a lot of scars. You will find the world a crazy place because of how 'normal' people are. You'll also find it to be an absolute open place. You can walk out from here into any direction. Scarred and burned as you are, you can now go anywhere. But there just won't be a path. Unless you see it for yourself.
Be careful what you wish for.