The food was bad, the magic was bad, and both were written by people who had all of this knowledge they forgot to put down on the page. But making food felt like the easier version of reading the grimoires. Troubleshooting instructions, handwriting alterations, and crossing out some steps altogether made me more confident in both the kitchen and the sacred circle.
I should begin by noting that I think everyone has the right to choose a spiritual path that’s meaningful to them. You’d think that wouldn’t be controversial but a couple of thousand years of history suggests otherwise. Second, let me say that I’m not a physicist, but I have taught statistical mechanics; that would also be the semester I last said “sure, I‘ll help.”
So now we can backtrack a bit. Picture it: grad school, 1992. There was this lowly PhD student who was brilliantly good at statistics sitting in class deeply focused on an advanced lecture on fixed vs.