The Power of Initiation
It was the Spring Equinox 1995.
Outside, somewhere in the house, I could hear movement. I’d chosen this. I kept reminding myself that I had chosen this. Born June 16th 1965 and my whole life had been leading to this moment. Soon I would be initiated as a Bard. I had heard stories of people losing their nerve and climbing out of a window, the room being empty when they were meant to be collected. I got that. I could see why someone might do that. But this was me declaring to the Universe that I was ready. That I would commit to a spiritual path and who knows where that might lead? Who knows what changes might occur because of this decision?
I heard movement in the room. I wasn’t alone after all. Ozzy the cat stared at me out of the darkness. A cat. That’s ok, I could deal with a cat.
The house had fallen silent. Nothing. No noise at all. Were they coming for me yet? Then I heard voices. I knew those words. The circle was being set. It would be soon.
I thought of my journey. Of buying my first occult book. Crowley’s Magick in Theory and Practice. Through my journey in Ceremonial Magic, to meeting Pagans, and then choosing my path. It had been quite a ride, but I knew that this would be nothing compared to what lay ahead. I was stepping onto the same path as Taliesin, Amergin, Myrddin. The path of the Sacred Poet. I felt both nervous and an overwhelming sense of magic.
I heard the Awen being chanted.
It was close. I looked at the window…
No. I was going to do this. It was right.
Footsteps outside. The door opened. The passage was dark, candlelit. I took the outstretched hand and was led out. Incense. Overpowering and beautiful. The smell of magic. The circle of white-robed figures stood before me. I was asked to crouch down.
“Are you ready”, I was asked.
“Yes”, I replied. “I am ready”.