Magic Beans

Much of magic, I'm led to believe, is a willful tricking of ourselves. This can be done in a few different ways. One way is the incorporation of certain magical rules into daily life. Superstitions, they might be called. I learned a few such rules that Pythagoras and his school followed. One of them was that a magical practitioner should never eat beans. This rule is known by more people than I expected, and the response I get from some of them is that this rule doesn't have anything to do with magic or mathematics, but was observed by Pythagoras and Company because the master didn't like beans (or because beans disagreed with him). I don't follow this rule mainly because I like beans, and because beans are often the best, quickest, most affordable way for me to get a meal in. When one has little time and little money a can of beans does the trick.

But A-HA! Here is something we can learn from incorporating rules and strictures into our lives, especially seemingly arbitrary ones from long-dead philosophers. The rule was theirs for their own reasons. It may have been for purely practical or purely personal reasons -- you don't know. What you do know is your own situation/story/psychology, as well as the fact that Philosopher X seemed to be doing something right, and you'd like to have a bit of their juju working in your own life. If you understand their rule and can see valuable application of it in your own life, then you can incorporate it for that purpose.

The trouble is that this is really the only way you can incorporate it. I'm writing about the value of ignorance, or I'm about to. Because if you know why you're supposed to be doing something, it's difficult to see what else the same obedience can give you. If, however, you have no idea why Pythagoras and his crew didn't eat beans, or if you take it on as a rule simply to make your life more like Pythagoras' (a form of beside-the-point imitation that, while seeming far from genuine has practical magical application), then you can create a story of your own as to why this makes sense for you in your own life. The reasons don't have to be conscious before you take on the practice. They are perfectly capable of coming into being on their own, and sooner or later they do. Human beings are experts at rationalizing behavior. Consider disc golf.

So soon enough you will come up with your own reason as to why abstaining from beans makes you a better magician. One idea I have about why this is so is that beans are a cheap, fast food. The very reason I like them is the reason they are detrimental to my magic. If I disallow myself beans, I can't just pop open a can and wolf them down, I can't treat my body like a machine that runs on beans instead of motor oil. By not eating beans I force myself to come up with another solution to the issue of being hungry. Perhaps this solution costs more, or takes longer to prepare. I have enough sense not to eat junk food every day, so I end up making myself something healthy -- healthier, perhaps, than a can of beans. It might cost more and might take a bit more time to prepare, but this is a good motivator for me to be more profitable and efficient with my time. By eschewing beans I set up the small challenge of affording the luxury of eating a salad I prepare myself, for example, or of making a sandwich for lunch or some noodles for dinner. It's a little trick, but magic is full of tricks and we must learn to consciously play tricks on ourselves. This is part of the work of the magus.