Margot’s trippy magical experiment continues! If you’ve ever wondered whether effective magic really needs a clear intention, you won’t want to miss this…
Research Journal of Margot Takada
February 11
I was reading this essay about Jung’s theory of synchronicity on a website called Twin Flames. The author, Aven Winslow, proposed a set of four “ingredients” that constitute a synchronistic event.
An activated archetype
A mental effect
A physical event
Heightened emotions
This got me thinking about my tarot card experience, what I’m officially calling the Freaky Light Web.
I can’t prove it, but intuitively, it seems like I had an activated archetype on my hands, and I definitely had heightened emotions. Add to that the physical event of the tarot card being surrounded by said Freaky Light Web, and that just leaves the mental effect—an example of which, according to the Twin Flames essay, is an intention, like something you’d use when casting a spell.
Or when doing a tarot reading, perhaps??
The way I see it, a question posed to the cards is also a mental effect, and that was the only thing missing when I experienced the Freaky Light Web. I wasn’t doing an actual reading, so I hadn’t asked anything before drawing a card.
Damn it. Someone’s at the door. To be continued…
February 12
I’ve apparently unlocked the Pandora’s box of weird, because there was no one at my door last night. What I did find, however, was a shoddily wrapped package tied up with twine, sitting on my doormat. Oh, and with a white feather stuck in the crooked-ass bow because why not.
Inside was a kindergartner’s art project: a fingerpainted rainbow, complete with cotton ball clouds. Someone had written underneath the arch “See you at the center,” signed M.
Who the hell is M? At this point, things have gone so far off the rails, I wouldn’t be surprised if I sent it to myself. At any rate, that’ll have to be a mystery for another day, because I need to record what happened when I asked a question before drawing a tarot card, testing out my intention theory.
Just like last time, I did Hinton’s rotating cube exercise first. Then I asked a question I normally wouldn’t pose to the tarot, but I had a hunch I wanted to test. The question was, “Where’s my copy of Temporal Slippage and Botanical Memory?” I misplaced it a couple weeks ago, and I’m planning to head back to Harrowfell Hall to make some measurements of the labyrinth and could really use that damn book.
Wouldn’t you know, I drew the Magician card again. Hello there, friend.
Sure enough, the Freaky Light Web appeared, but this time, there was an unmistakable densification of the web—leading straight to my bedroom. When I say “leading,” I mean the thickened threads formed a clear path, emanating from the card and heading down the hall before turning into my room.
I followed the threads down the hall, and I’m surprised I didn’t choke on my own heart, which had apparently set up shop in my throat. The threads curved around the mattress, and on the other side of the bed they dipped behind the headboard.
Wedged between the box spring and the wall was—wait for it—my copy of Temporal Slippage and Botanical Memory.
I’m never one to leave a good anomaly alone. Finding a misplaced book is one thing, but the real question is: could an intention carry me further than down the hall?
See you next time.
