After examining the situation through various facets, and in the final writing of the report, I realized that the search is to find not objects but instruments.

As instruments of magic, the ritual objects are used as communicators, and also as connectors to the unseen realms. Those of us whose objects have been accepted by HQ as fully operational are given the responsibility of learning exactly how these instruments work, either as games, tools, musical expression or decoders. There are many other roles the objects take on in relation to their finders, as they are, in a way, alive. In this way they complement their owners, and the owners become as attached to the objects as an Indian musician to his beautiful vina. They complete one another. 

So it is that in some cases, a magician may simply enter the object at the time of death and live on within it, as if it were a vast temple, or even city, or even planet. Here the music it makes, or the scent it holds as a magnificent itardan, or the light it conveys as a multifaceted jewel, all come into play for the magician whose soul has a new home in the miniature reality of the sacred object.

The sadness of decommissioned objects is that they no longer hold their owner, and they are truly dead things. The soul of the owner brings a life into the object and the soul of the owner is given longer life than the life of the physical human body. But this all comes at a price, for the diverting of the way of things can cause disruptive disturbance in manifest life. That is where the life of purity comes into play. a magician whose life is one of dedication and purity, and honouring the truth and beauty of things, may be given a life extension through this method. but to be clear, the life of the soul cannot ultimately and in eternity be held in an object, this is only a temporary enhancement of the purpose of the life of the magician. As well, only a part of the mental-emotional-psychic matter of the magician is given entry to the object. It will eventually dissipate over time.

The true soul always journeys upward beyond all these physical veils and manifest iterations. But it does for a time hold thought and being in its form, and the magic of the pure devotional being can be opened up through ritual, love, or admiration. The symbol comes into life, and like a spinning hologram, the magician or adept will appear, like a genie from the bottle, to grant wishes or to bring peace, or tell historical tales from long before. 

We hold our past in this way and recall the human realizations over time, and sometimes we have access to these through objects and texts. In the texts the reading between the lines and the auditory aspect of them brings out the hidden beings of the masters who placed themselves into the documents for safekeeping of the truths that had been discovered about the realities of human life on earth and of the human experiment. 

Many of these become revered as sacred texts, and the power of writing to offer wisdom and spells is immense. We are grateful to those who have written as scribes the works of the wise, and have transmitted through them the secrets for future generations. 

it is not in the writing or even the telling but in the space and relationships between it all that the conjuring occurs. Through ratios and directions of breath, eye, thought and movement, the enactment causes a resonant reply from those sleeping between the covers. They waken, and stand to meet us with open arms. dare we join them? If we find them, and they see us, then we have already been welcomed in, and our work becomes as spooling ribbon of directions and instructions from the great beings beyond our world of time.

Lifting up, past all the cabinets, we look down on cities that have formed throughout the ages, and see the glimmering lights of generations past. Nothing there means what it seems, for it is like looking at a slide through a microscope. we can neither enter or touch it. We are way past it. We can only observe as we zoom up and out into a greater nebular vastness. Manifestation echoes and mirrors that which is not built into form from the matter of the world, and our zooming out and up through the top of the head leads us out of body and mind, past the realm of bodies at all, past the world of the mind and the minds of all, and into the heart of all.

With great devotion on the altar of life itself we sacrifice all we know and have seen and been for a greater presence to be expanded into the manifestation, and therefore reflect back the glory and beauty and immensity of the divine source and cause of all. We can’t see this, for our sacrifice means dissolution.

But we can know it because we find ourselves paradoxically looking  back again, downward with love and awareness, at the body on the altar of the heart, at the mind with all its dendrites and tendrils, at the body with its senses and awakenings of intensity of feeling, seeing, tasting, hearing, scents.

The ambrosia and nectar cascading down from the high top of the highest crown, the mountainside waterfall, the oil on the head of the great one, the eye of the inner sight, the eyes, ears, nose, mouth all anointed, the fingertips and the tip of the nose, all in nectar, all in brilliant luminescence. It is simultaneous, you see, and not at all one at a time. The infant and the aged one, exist all at once, for this is the single ray of the soul. It is projected by the sun into the great dark that is waiting always waiting for her turn to mold and make the partner in life, to come to life as mater matter prima mother. 

Torget all that you thought. This is what you see. Mind over matter. Matter of fact. Love.