I was a magical thinker. As an Evangelical born-again Christian my entire being was wrapped up in believing, worshiping even, something I could not touch or taste or see or smell. But I felt it. It was magic of the highest order, and I was under its spell.
Eventually, my relationship with Jesus ended. It’s a long story. But in a nutshell, I just didn’t believe in him anymore. The magic was gone. And when I left God, I ran as fast as I could in the opposite direction. It’s not the “sin” that I regret, though I did overdo it, to say the least, it was that I threw the baby out with the bathwater. I tossed away the magic.
Speaking of sin, I moved to Amsterdam after leaving the Church. I indulged. I shook my fist at the sky. I wallowed. And I angrily refused anything spiritual or even mystical. I was a pure atheist, refusing even the hint of the unknown.
With magical thinking the furthest from my mind I moved to Prague. The Berlin Wall has recently fallen, and the city was full of young people awash with optimism, and you could breathe in a refreshing wishful air. In this climate I embarked on starting Eastern Europe’s first internet café, the Terminal Bar. Down the street was Prague’s Speculum Alchemiae – Museum of Alchemy. The director, a man of spectacular dress and mystery, wanted one of those fan-dangled new things called a “website.” Our friendship took me down the rabbit hole.
Studying alchemy was a delight. A number of other friends were also intrigued, and we delved in headfirst. It was at once a sincere search and, more often than not, a folly. We’d drink Absinthe until our faces were numb debating if all this was even true. Duped or not, we didn’t really care. It felt like something. I couldn’t quite see it, or believe it, but I could taste it on the back of my tongue. I could smell the Gold. It was magic.
The Czech philosopher Jan Comenius' book, "The Labyrinth of the World and the Paradise of the Heart" (and the name of my friend’s website we made for him, by the way), was published around 1600. It’s set in a small town where all inhabitants are lost in different labyrinths of their own making with their only guides being “Ubiquitous” and “Delusion.” These are imperfect guides, at best, who are not interested in helping the townsfolk find meaning, or even happiness. Hell, or even help them out of their labyrinths. Instead, “rose-colored glasses” are given out. Poorly fitted ones at that, where beautiful lies are in sight and the way out can barely be seen over their rims. Or can it? I mean, with friends like Ubiquitous and Delusion who needs enemies?
Thinking about the truth is not the same as arriving at it. It took me a long time to realize that. That salvation is and was and will be a journey. That magical thinking is just that, “thinking” – not a conclusion. Never trust someone with the answer. In that light I produced an hour on Alchemy, "The Secrets of Alchemy." In it, I promise, there is a backdoor. Somewhere. Somehow. Part of a recipe. A glimpse over your rose-colored glasses. But then again, I am an imperfect guide. Foolish enough to know damn well that he can’t turn base metal into gold yet spends his entire life trying to do so. And then invites others to join him.
–Charles