Core Elemental Energies
October 23, 2005
by Jeffrey Pierce
I was in the midst of a shamanic journey, being guided by my teacher in a new method of connecting with the energy we associate with the elemental power of Earth. My spirit hands had been thrust into the earth, discovering that, even with the soil's ever-present story of life and death, it was only the first level of the energy I sought.
Pushing my spirit self deeper, I found the stones of the earth, the bones of the mountains, the continental plates that moved with such power that their journeys created mountains and earthquakes and sent molten stone exploding into the sky. The energy was intense. Raw. Primal. It was more power than I'd ever sought to wield. But my teacher, knowing what I did not, guided me deeper still.
I plunged deep into the earth, my spirit swimming through molten rock until I reached the Earth's core. There I found the energy that my teacher had guided me to connect with - limitless power, impossible to measure or describe.
One of the key components in working with magic, especially when performing a rite on a spiritual plane (a concept we'll look at in another two weeks) is the less qualifiers you need to grasp any concept, the more cleanly the energy of your rite will flow.
For instance, when I cast a circle and call upon the energy of Earth, I typically visualize either the rich loam of a Northwest old growth forest or the rugged mountain peaks of Alaska. While I can clearly feel the energy of those places and the visualization of a specific location makes it much easier to connect with that energy, I'm also unintentionally limiting the energy by saying, "The energy of Earth in this rite will mirror what I'm currently visualizing." Magic, by it's very nature, is an odd combination of subtle interactions and precise definitions. The way that the energy manifests in our world may take on an unexpected form due to the multitude of interactions that the energy faces once we release it, but the manner in which we raise, direct, release and ground that energy will mirror the limitations, implied or intentional, that we place upon it when we summon that energy to us.
It's a little easier to understand the concept if we use the Element of Water to illustrate the challenge before us. A mud puddle, a gentle sprinkle, a mountain lake, the ocean, a downpour, and the driving rain of a hurricane all contain water, but the energy present in each of those concepts feels quite different than any of the other types of energy in that grouping. The reason is that we aren't connecting with the core energy of that Element, but rather the energy that Element manifests as it undertakes its own journey.
Here in my native Oregon, it's an extraordinarily simple manner to connect with the energy of Water. Not only does the Pacific Ocean await to the west, but countless rivers, streams and lakes cover the landscape in the part of the state where I live. And then there's the rain. We get a lot of it out here and large portions of the Northwest are actually classified as a temperate rainforest.
But each aspect of Water that surrounds me doesn't represent the core concept of the Element, but the energy present in a portion of it's journey. For instance, by the time the rain falls around me it's already evaporated from the ocean (another type of Water energy) by the heat of the sun (Fire), been carried by the winds and clouds (Air) before falling to the ground (Earth). While the core energy is still very much the Element of Water, it has been joined by other Elemental energies, slightly changing its flavor and flow. In the vast majority of rituals that you will perform, connecting with an Element in this manner will make almost no difference whatsoever in the outcome of your rite. The variation between using energy in this manner and connecting with it in another form is almost imperceptible.
However, things work differently when you're doing spellwork that's intended to have a significant impact or you're working magick on a non-physical level. When you're doing intense spellwork or have shifted to one of the more subtle realms (I've found that our labels and definitions are a poor fit for that level of reality, so I tend not to use any), you need to understand that you aren't working on a level of existence where rigid definitions form the landscape, but in a realm that is ruled by symbolism. When viewed from a symbolic perspective, there is a vast difference in energy between the ocean and a pond, between a gentle sprinkling of rain and a driving rainstorm. Certainly they each represent the energy of Water, but the symbolism of each is a completely separate concept.
In order to work around this issue, it's necessary to connect not with a specific manifestation of a type of energy (the ocean, a river, a gentle rain), but the core concept of that energy. While there have been numerous texts written on the idea over the centuries, I can only share the understanding that I've gained on my own path.
My current teacher guided me to the understanding that Air is the energy of unity through expansion. It creates a connection between all things by growing to encompass everything that comes within its realm. Don't think of Air as a breeze that caresses the trees, flowers, earth, and yourself as it whispers by on it's own journey, but instead consider the atmosphere. While it manifests in an endless variety of ways, the atmosphere expands into every space that is opened to it, halted only by the energy of the other Elements. It's this nature, a unity through the encompassing of all things, that is found at the heart of Air.
On my path, Earth is opposite of Air and represents unity through compression. While trees and plants sink their roots deep into the soil to hold themselves in place, it is the gravity created by our planet that holds all things to it. Soil nurtures life, holding it to the mortal realm. Even earthquakes and volcanoes are produced by tectonic plate movement, two plates compressing together until one of them slips or the growing energy finds a weak point through which it can escape.
I was shown that Fire represents change through release. Science has taught us that, while energy cannot be created nor destroyed, it can be changed from one form to another. Fire is the catalyst for this process. It burns wood to ash and the fires of the sun change ice to water, water to vapor. In each transformation, Fire offers a breaking of bonds, a dramatic and sudden release from one energy construct to something entirely different.
In my practice, Water is the other side of Fire's transformative coin. Where Fire creates change through release, Water creates change through connections. Water wears away the stone, changing stone to sand and carrying each grain of sand to a new relationship as a beach or riverbed. It changes a lifeless desert into a field of flowers, not by destroying the earth and releasing its energy into another form, but by slipping through the soil, reaching the waiting energy of the flowers, and acting as the catalyst that allows the flower's energy to develop a relationship between soil and sun.
When doing intense spellwork or working magic on a more subtle plane, the practitioner's own energy becomes the energy of Spirit, uniting the four Elements and tying your own energy to the rite. There is no clearer illustration that we need to take responsibility for our actions, both on mundane and magical levels, than to realize that we weave ourselves into our rituals and magic.
In two weeks, we'll look at some of the concepts of working magic in the spirit realm. Next time, I'm going to try something a little different. Since I celebrate aspects associated with both Halloween (spookiness and trick-or-treating) and Samhain (magic, remembrance and sacredness) in my practice, next time I'll share a trio of real-life "ghost stories" that I've encountered in my path - one spooky, one funny, and one mystical... all perfect for the season.