To know, to will, to dare, to keep silent: The Four Powers and the seer's art

To know, to will, to dare, to keep silent:  These powers are related to the four classical elements and are the cornerstones of Hermetic magic.  (They're also used by some Wiccans.)  These guiding principles are known by various names: Four Powers of the Sphinx, Four Powers of the Magi, Motto of the Sphinx, the Four Pillars, the Powers of the Elements, the Witch's Pyramid, the Magic Pyramid, etc.  Taken together, they form a "simple but not easy" program of personal improvement and spiritual development.  Today, we'll consider the Four Powers and how they relate specifically to the practice of divination and seership.

To know (sciere).  This is a good one to start with, since you could argue that "to know" is the entire point of becoming a seer.  When we sit down to scry or ask for a prophetic dream, we're hoping to get a peek into worlds beyond our everyday reality.  (Or, more prosaically, to find out what's happening in the next room or next week.)  All of the seer's work is done in the service of knowledge.

So, how do we cultivate this power?  Well, the most obvious way is through learning.  We learn through words and images, from teachers who have gone before us.  While human beings have made great technological and social strides in a few thousand years, our basic mental and spiritual capacities don't appear to evolve so quickly--I'm sure there's nobody alive today who's smarter than Plato or more spiritually aware than the author of the Psalms.  And what has worked for the ancients will most likely work today.  So, part of "to know" is to recognize wisdom where its given and try not to reinvent the wheel.  What's the saying artists have--learn the rules before you break 'em?  For the seer this means studying and practicing the spiritual technologies that are available--the time-honored practices of meditation and prayer, for instance.  Then adapt them if necessary.

We also gain knowledge through our own experiences.  Moments of teaching occur throughout the day, and inspiration flashes through the synapses in milliseconds.  But most of the time we're just too busy and distracted to give our full focus to these transmissions  Seership is a way to set the process to slow motion.  We put ourselves in a relaxed state and tell the universe, "Say it one more time.  I'm listening."  So ask yourself a few questions:  Are you honoring the process of learning with your time and attention?  Are you keeping good enough records, so that the insights you catch hold of won't easily be forgotten?  Are you growing in self-awareness as you experience different visions and states?

Which brings us to what is certainly the hardest part of knowing: To know yourself.  The questions associated with self-knowledge are even more difficult:  Why do you want to be a seer?  What will you do with knowledge once its acquired?  They obviously don't have easy answers, but even if you can't answer them completely, it's helpful to keep them foremost in your mind.  The power of knowledge is associated with the classical element of Air.  When perfected, it gives you the ultimate perspective: a birds-eye view of yourself, your surroundings, and your place in the world.  This alone sounds like it could be the work of a lifetime.  But wait, there's more...

To will (velle).

A seer must be strong-willed.  As a member of homo sapiens, you have an extremely powerful and marvelous piece of frontal lobe, that nonetheless has a tendency to overestimate its own importance.  The conscious mind is so active that it would prefer to dominate every waking minute, leaving very little space for intuitive functioning.  It takes a strongly developed will to demand that your normal way of seeing get the hell outta the way, and let your less-developed sixth sense have a turn at the window.

From this, the power of Fire, we derive the inspiration to do some really hard work--the proverbial fire under your ass, if you will.  There is no "easy" method of divination--if there were, then everybody would be doing it.  No matter how talented you are, you still have to hone the skills of single-pointed concentration and visualization.  You have to overcome the tendency of the mind to wander to mundane things, and of all your conscious and unconscious desires to distract and deceive you.  You have to have the will to do your practice even when you don't really feel like it or when other obligations are clamoring for your time.

To dare (audere).

This power is associated with the element of Water, which has a long, long history of being emblematic of the psychic arts.  And with good reason:  Elemental Water is the source of creativity, intuition, and connection. Even in the mundane world, we talk about "streams" of consciousness and "going with the flow"--sometimes an inspiration "springs" forth or we "pool" our ideas with others.  Many traditional scrying devices (bowls, ponds, and wells) are tied to Water.  (Even crystals were thought by the Greeks to be made of water, permanently frozen.)  And the seer's practice of letting go--letting words and images float on by without attempting to direct them--is a watery skill.

But lest I make it sound like seership means drifting off into a gentle pool of soul-melting bliss, let's not forget that "daring" implies courage, not just happy abandon.  Are you really ready to confront all the beasties that lurk in the dark reaches of your unconscious?  Are you ready to start ringing the doorbells of the other denizens of the universe, which might just wanna pinch your l'il rosy cheeks...or not?  Taking up this calling means giving up your fixations on safety, predictability, and objectivity.  No one can promise you that you won't go crazy.   Nobody can prove to you that you're not actually wasting your time with all this stuff.  "To dare" means having the faith and the audacity to do a cannonball into the deep well of the mysterious.  Wooooooo!

To keep silent (tacere).

Ah, yes, the ancient art of shutting your piehole.  (Often said to be the most overlooked of the four.)  Just as some strains of Hermeticism hold that Earth isn't a real element, some people evidently feel that silence isn't a real magical skill, to their great detriment.  I'm sure you've seen the oversharer in action at your local psychic circle / coven / metaphysical group.  There's almost invariably someone who's so eager to share their successes or brag about their newfound talents that they just end up alienating everyone and looking like a fool.  Sometimes there's two or more of these folks and they spend the whole time one-upping each other (which at least spares other people the misery of conversing with them).  Meanwhile, on the periphery you find the more mature practitioners, who don't talk about their abilities unless someone asks--and sometimes not even then.

But the purpose of magical silence isn't just to look inscrutable and cool--although that's definitely a fringe benefit.  Resisting the temptation to chatter really can benefit your practice.  In the ancient world, boasting about personal success was thought to draw the malediction of the evil eye or jealous spirits.  Modern practitioners are more likely to say that blabbing too much will scatter the energy of your working or diminish your enthusiasm.  At the very least, you can be sure that touting your skills will attract the wrong kind of attention, at least as far as your own psychic development is concerned.  Some people will be outright dismissive, and this kind of skepticism isn't helpful in the early stages of learning the craft.  On the other hand, some people will be way too into what you're doing; their neediness will feed your vanity and distract you from the work at hand.  Allow a new practice to be nurtured in darkness, the way a seed is able to grow to viability in the darkness of the soil.

The power of Earth encompasses not only literal silence, but inner stillness and patience.  Patience is really a form of courage--the courage to wait and see, to not be anxious for results, but to trust that our efforts will bear fruit.  When we possess the strength of Earth, we're okay with allowing our abilities to develop slowly, in pace with our (hopefully) growing maturity and wisdom.   Earth is also about integration--bringing everything together in a harmonious whole, symbolized by the pantacle.  I like to think that Earth is represented last among the four powers, because part of learning the power of Earth is integrating it with everything the other elements have taught you.  For example, you use your discernment to know when and where to break a silence--which brings us back to the first power, "to know".

(In case you're wondering why I decided to break my own silence with this blog--well, I'm thinking it through as I go along.  I certainly hope it's been helpful to you.)

Love and blessings,

M