The Thaumaturge’s threads amalgamate. A paradigm is born.
Magicks of the world permeate all. They exist within our psyche, and outside its bounds. The raw energy refined by the spinning wheel of ourselves. Arcane golden threads, weaving with luminous ferocity. Threads laying down the patch work of…
The Divine Tapestry
The Banner of :I:
Spiritus Ad Monumentum
The Thaumaturge Archetype has roots within a concept which many of us understand well. Mind, Body, Spirit. The weaving of the roots of the sacred trees which encompass the all. Within all Archetypes, composed by various great minds, we see places where the roots twist and gather.
But the Archetype is composed of pieces which make the whole. A Sub-Archetype. Small, but no less significant fragments to the greater whole. The magicks and mythos of this world are vast and many. One could fathom them over a thousandfold. Today I shall discuss the :TRINE: of the Thaumaturge. A trio of Sub-Archetypes. Embodiments of the physical, the intellectual and the mystic. The cosmic alchemy which births the Miracle-worker.
SORCERER IN THE TOWER
Clairvoyance, practice, transfiguration.
We may imagine the Wizard within the Old Tower. An image most of us have no trouble imagining. He sits atop a grand pillar of stone. The spire of his monolithic structure cleaves the clouds and touches the stars. What a majestic site it is, paralleling the untamed potential of the human mind.
His magicks are calculated. The crystal ball’s image means little without the means to understand. His esoteric workings can get “messy”. We see this parallel within our own minds. We make mistakes. We lick our wounds, we improve our methods in the future.
Precious metals litter his study. Precious minerals, once coal and soot, now enough to satisfy the greediest of harlots. Perhaps even to please a queen. His magic won him Rapunzel, his passionate spell now burns within her heart, her endless locks twirling around her wedding ring.
The wizard is focus and mental fortitude. Directed intellectual energy for the purpose of something divine. His tower is the psyche and his being the spark which illuminates it.
Magicks of the mind serve us in this corporeal world. They teach us to filter the jargon and sharpen an adamantine focus. Carve and shape your mind as the wizard carves the philosopher’s stone.
HAG IN THE WOODS
Alchemy, Physicality, Improvement
Take a walk through the dark wood, where most fear to tread. If you make it far enough you’ll come across a house of stone and moss. A Hag lives within. Hansel and Gretel would fear to tread here but you press onward.
In her abode you will not find death and evil, but of simple devotion to the alchemical. Her cauldron bubbles, salted meat and garlic hang from the ceiling. Here she devotes her work to magicks of the body. A plethora of potions litter her shelves each promising various effects. The effects of some are known, others not.
She invites you to feast and imbibe, and you curiously agree. You may undergo a transformation of your own. This may not be quick, this may not be painless but by the time you leave this cabin, you won’t be the same.
She has a husband, did you know that?
Alas, he is no demon, nor wilted homunculus of which many fairy tales may speak. In fact he is a glowing monument to her work. A colossus of a man, fists of hardened iron, limbs of the strongest and tallest of trees.
Hansel and Gretel would have been wise to take her up on her invitation. By the time they left, Gretel would have been the fittest of young women. Legions of fawning men lining up to court her. Hansel would have become a hero the most gallant of knights would respect, and the finest of women lust after. He could definitely deadlift at least 3 times his bodyweight, I’m sure.
The Hag is the physical creator. Her methods may not be comfortable, or quick, but they will forge you into something worth singing about. Tap into her essence next time to feel like skipping the gym. Tap into her practice when that weight is “too heavy”. Embody her ideal on your quest for physical glory, her wares are potent.
You are too.
Exploration, Chaos, Enlightenment
Alas, the most colourful among the lot. The pioneer within the psyche. He who traverses the realms of the unwoken world. He is the dream scout, the nomad of the spirit. We don the boots and equip the eldritch compass of the Oneironaut.
Madman, I would say. What is to be found in the order of natural laws where there are none? When control is relinquished to the subconscious mind within our heads. He roams in restful sleep, where lucid dreams take hold. He traverses the kaleidoscope of ideals and fragments, his head full of psychedelics.
The Sorcerer has learned control over the magicks of the corporeal. The Oneironaut romps in a mad euphoria amidst the incorporeal. He sails through chaos and divinity within the dreaming realm. He drinks the finest of wine with the voice of the cosmos. He passionately fucks Aphrodite herself. He howls through his drunken haze. He spits lightning into the howling abyss of creation.
His romp through this unwaking realm seems foolhardy, chaotic. Let us not forget the importance of chaos, however. Chaos within the self. Where we let go within a place that inherently makes little sense to begin with. Here is where we start to uncover that which we cannot find in our day to day state. Here is where we read scriptures we were otherwise not meant to find. Here we uncover relics meant to lay buried. Here, in the dreamworld, in the higher spirit we discover ourselves. Here, we uncover our secrets which slip in front of our very eyes.
This is the path laid by the Oneironaut. He is the unhinged explorer, bottle in hand weaving the rainbow cable around the magicks laid by Sorcerer and Hag.
We are him. He is we.
The Trine of the Thaumaturge archetype. The corners of the triangle which make up the whole. Learn to know each one. You could certainly learn something from your own personal sorcerer. Marvel in awe of your own self the Hag helped you to create. Revel in the discovery of the Oneironaut, and the wisdom he can point you towards. These three lead you inwards toward the heart of this Trine.
Towards the Thaumaturge. To the stronghold of the heroic Spell-weaver.
I hope you find him, my friends. He’s in you, and he’s waiting.