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I've been studying occultism and mysticism for seven years now, and the biggest lesson I've learned is that what's left to learn is infinite. I was introduced to the occult in the form of Wiccan witchcraft, which appealed to me because I had always been very superstitious and interested in spirits. It was about a year into study that I learned of high magick and shamanism. Both of these interested me, but as I continued to read my Wiccan beginnings soon faded and the things that I had read of shamanism spoke to my heart, and so I began to invest my time, practice, and study into learning as much as I could about it.
I've come through those seven years, finding myself having gravitated to a love of the ancient Celts and pre-Celtic mythology and faith, specifically that of Ireland. So much of their traditons were lost, recorded only by word of mouth and then eventually by christian monks. There's much debate about whether or not shamanism was practiced by the ancient people of Ireland, but regardless, shamanism is a concept that speaks of commune and unity, which can be applied to almost any situation. Through study of the surviving myths and systems of the Isle of Mann, Scotland, Wales, and Cornwall, as well as the Scandinavian neighbours and continental celts one can see glimpses of the wide spread mindset, as well as take on universal concepts and shared human experience. Combine these with the myths, folklore, past and recent archaeology found or preserved in Ireland and you'll see a picture - one with faded colors and missing lines, but a picture none the less.
I worship the Gods and Goddesses of the Tuatha de Danann, the spirits of the Earth, and a few deities from the Celtic nations that neighbored Ireland.
I've put effort into the practice of meditation, energy work, healing and nature based magick.
Their words melted in my ears and ran down into my lungs, all I could breathe was the startle of their wisdom.
It coursed through me briefly, and on its path it passed a void, gaping and full.
Their laughter broke through the silence, violent and calamitous.
"He sought himself here, yet seeks a way back out."
As they came in the ringing of bells, they left with the whistle of the wind.
Alone to gaze in infinite pools, there were no lines but those upon his hands.
In the shapelessness he found where he wished to go was where he already was, for the when of where had yet to be.
Like a bursting star to illuminate the unlit, and around himself he saw he stood
Amidst a garden, with rolling folds and folding knolls
To his back a forest of emerald chimes and to his eyes, the open plains of possibilities