Anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you.
—David Whyte, “Sweet Darkness”
I sometimes think of magic as My Little Insurgency. I once heard it said (by singer Tony Bennett, I believe, referring to his friend and fellow music legend Louis Armstrong) that “the true insurgent works from within.” If so, then for me magic is the ultimate inside job.
Casually I walk through the world with all these secrets and use them to create moments of wonder (when I’m on) or maybe just amusement (when I’m not). The more innocent I appear to be—just another middle-aged guy who still plays CDs and thinks Spotify is a stain remover—the more likely I can make people’s brains hurt. In a good way. Then I pack up my cards and coins and head on down the road, looking for my next rebel moment. My goal is to stir something within to change the world without.
What might your insurgency be? What are you doing (to quote a famous phrase) to be the change you wish to see in the world? How might you work within the system to make it so?
Very likely you have heard that expression, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” It is often attributed to Mahatma Gandhi and maybe you’ve seen it on bumper stickers and Facebook memes. So here’s a little secret: There is no record of Gandhi ever uttering those words, apparently. The closest verifiable statement we have is this, which I’ve edited for inclusivity:
If we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change. As a person changes their own nature, so does the attitude of the world change towards them .... We need not wait to see what others do.—Mahatma Gandhi
It’s a shame Gandhi’s actual language isn’t more well known, because not only does it contain the same wisdom, it includes a bit of instruction to achieve what is—let’s just admit—a formidable task that, depending on the day, could feel burdensome. What? Change me? It’s hard enough contemplating how to do my part to 1) dismantle systems of oppression; 2) bring divided people closer together; 3) help other people hold it together when I struggle do that for myself sometimes. I can’t do any or all of that and change myself, too.
Years ago I entered seminary hoping it would better prepare me to do all three of those tasks above. “Seminary changes you,” one of the deans told me at the time. She was right. It did. I rebuilt my theology from the ground up and started a nonprofit to teach magic as a way of helping people discover sources of internal strength they didn’t know they had. The first offering, MagicLab, was piloted in several church communities in my denomination to rave reviews. Several months ago I explained why I am doing this.
The nonprofit, now called Magistry, is slowly coming into full flower. It’s been a journey that has included learning to build websites, record and edit videos, navigate the worlds of trademarks and website domains and the IRS, and become besties with the corporation divisions of two states. (Today’s newsletter was delayed, in fact, because of a website crash and a 3-hour call with tech support.) Then there’s the teaching itself.
It turns out that this insurgency business is complicated! But here is the thing: It’s worth it. Not just because of how it might change the world, but how it might change us.
As an introverted extrovert—or vice-versa—Myers-Briggs says I’m both so I never know—I need a way to rebel that accommodates my natural shyness and reserved nature. (One of my sons once told me, “Dad, you’re kind of serious.”) Insurgency is the resistance of choice for someone like me. It’s subtle, kind of Rebellion Lite. According to the dictionary, less organized than a rebellion and not as belligerent. And a bit clandestine. Perfect for a shy magician.
And this is where the instruction within Gandhi’s remark serves as both advice and a warning: “We need not wait to see what others do.”
You see, for too long I thought I needed to check in with others to learn whether what I am doing had any value—or, more important, impact. As a result, I’ve proceeded cautiously. Maybe too cautiously. Because in between the positive reactions and feedback from others, there have also been silences. When you depend on a word outside yourself to know whether what you’re doing is resonating and growing, the absence of words can make you think you’re not. And that would be mistaken. We need not wait to see what others do. Or say. Keep moving. Follow the muse.
April is almost here. Soon the crocuses will reappear. They have been busy down there in the soil, the humus, a Latin root from which the word “human” is also derived. They’ve been busy not waiting to see what other flowers do, but have been drawing all winter from any neighboring nitrogen, phosphorus and potassium to prepare to burst forth and let us know our planet continues to revolve around our star, reliably.
The crocuses multiply as they return year after year, bringing more blooms, causing change from within the topsoil to show us a slightly different world every spring, with an arc bending toward beauty. Twelve months from now, they will do it all again. Each winter it seems like they are waiting, but their silence is merely quiet action. Rebellion Lite.
Psychologists point out that the bloodiest war our country has ever fought was the Civil War—an internal struggle. The most harrowing conflicts can arise from within. It makes sense, then, that the true insurgent works from within as well. Not just to bring peace to the world, no. There are bigger battles to be won. My little insurgency is a bid for wholeness that multiplies beyond my borders but is mindful of the homeland, too.
May you know that even when it feels you are doing nothing, change and growth are taking place. May you enjoy a surge of power now and then to remind you of your own invincibility. May love be your rebellion. May whatever it is you seek find you first, so you may be welcomed to the amazing journey that lies waiting just for you.
I stand up for dogs (and their people) against the deliberate misinformation rampant in the unregulated, unlicensed profession of dog training.