Now’s probably a good time to remind everyone to check/refresh the wards on your home or wherever you do this work. Be sure that you’re rested, grounded, and in a comfortable position. Maybe wrap up in a blanket or cloak and grasp a stone or talisman that matters to you. Grow your roots, send them deep into the soil, let them intertwine and grow small hairs to attach to the mycelia in your own landbase.
Anchor yourself firmly to your landbase. Notice a small detail that will call you back when this working is finished.
Ground and center. Cast a circle.
As you move to our American plain on the astral plane, you can see again the safe hillock where you do your work. You can see the five giant banners, shining in the sky: Walden Pond, the Underground Railroad, the Cowboy, the Salmon, and Lady Liberty. Do they seem more defined since we began our work? Do they have anything special to tell you this week?
For a few moments, just sit on your hillock and allow yourself to become comfortable. This place should be feeling very real to you by now; we’ve been working together to create it for months and months. What’s become familiar to you? A tuft of prairie grass? Buffalo off in the distance? The scent of sand carried on the wind? You’ve been involved in a months-long magical working here, joined with magic workers from across the globe. Feel your connection to this place on the astral plane. It is always here for you, always a source of strength.
As you sit and listen, you hear, in the distance, the long, lonely sound of a train whistle. Listen closely and you’ll hear it again, carried over the distance and upon the wind. Ask her permission and then slip your consciousness into that hawk that’s been circling, all this time, overhead. Through her eyes, you can see railroad tracks that link the Atlantic coast to the Pacific. Those tracks run through giant cities such as Chicago and into small farming depots with names such as Rockford, Wellspring, Greenville, Wharton, and Carey. Those tracks run through miles and miles of “badlands,” deserted countryside that no one can farm or settle. They run deep under mountains, through tunnels that had to be blasted and mined, often literally inch by inch, through granite ranges that were too steep for the trains. The railroads run over rivers and creeks, across bridges built by men who learned their trade rebuilding bridges destroyed in the Civil War. They run along older trails, originally used by America’s First Peoples, and then by covered wagons, moving people and goods from the East Coast into the West. The tracks were laid by soldiers who were released from the Union and Confederate armies, often working side by side after that long and bitter war. They were laid by Chinese immigrants, many who came to America to escape the Taiping Rebellion and who hoped, one day, to return to their homeland. Those workers used eighteen-pound sledge hammers to drive spikes, mixed the explosives used to blast through obstacles, and dug out the avalanches of snow that threatened every winter to stop progress on the rails. As you soar overhead, you see how nearly every aspect of American life — from banks that funded the work, to governments that provided the land, to farmers who fed the workers, to ferries that carried the supplies from one spot to the next, to women who nursed the injured workers, to newspaper editors who wrote about the railroad’s progress, to iron workers who cast the rails, the cars, and the engines that were still called “Iron Horses” — were involved in this gigantic undertaking to unite the country.
Thank the lovely hawk who has carried you and return to your hillock. (Maybe later this week, you’ll want to do some magic and/or make a contribution to the Hawk Migration Association of North America . It’s always important to give thanks for the service such hosts provide.) As you think about the massive effort involved in linking all of America’s various parts by a network of rails, consider the effort needed to produce a Big Blue Wave this Autumn, Nov. 6, 2018. Many different kinds of work are going to be needed and many different workers are going to be involved. The work will extend from, literally, sea to shining sea. From major cities to small towns, from farmlands to mountain fastnesses, from the undergrounds of consciousness to the heights of rational thought, we are going to need to engage in the same work as our ancestors, pulling the country back together again and building a network of rational, liberal, diverse, and compassionate people together in order to elect good Senators, Congresspersons, Governors, State Legislators, Town Councils, Boards of Education, Water Boards, Zoning Boards . . . .
Stand on your hillock, listen again to the sound of the train whistle off in the distance, and see what work you are called to do to build this railroad of the Big Blue Wave. At your feet, you see a heavy sledgehammer and a golden spike. When you have a clear vision of your task, and when you are ready, lift the sledgehammer, call your ancestors who were involved with the railroad to witness your act, and hammer the golden spike deep into the ground. Watch the energy that spreads, weblike, from your golden spike to all of the other golden spikes being driven across America by your fellow magic workers. The magic has been laid; now, we need your engines to do the “mundane” work that will ensure the result.
As you sit and rest, know that you are not working alone. The Resistance — both magical and in all of its mundane (phone banking, check writing, representative calling, letter writing, canvassing, voting, volunteering, tutoring, restoring wetlands, growing plants for bees) manifestations — is huge. Know that you are a powerful worker of magic, rooted in your very own landbase, working with the strong archetypes of this land, assisted by countless unseen others who labor in league with you. You are brave and growing braver. Your magic and your practical workings can make the difference. The American railroad is always available to you when you want to do magic uniting a disparate group of people, groups, places. Your ancestors earned it for you.
Return to your own body, your own landbase. Open your eyes. Rub your face, move your arms and legs. Notice the detail you selected to call you back from the astral. Open your circle. Drink something, maybe Chinese tea or freshly-squeezed tangerine juice. If you like, have something to eat, maybe a small bowl of lentils or a handful of pecans.
During the course of this week, you may want to visit the bannered prairie several times in order to strengthen its presence on the astral. You may want to repeat this working. You may want to place something on your altar to help you to remember the railroad. You may want to journal about your experience. Are you inspired to make any art? Can you sit beside a warm fire, or light incense, or stare into a candle? What actions are you inspired to take for the Resistance? If you’re willing, please share in comments what happened and how this working went.
NB: Of course, like everything else in America (and, to be honest, everywhere else), the railroads were built at a great cost to the Native Peoples. The railroads involved a decent amount of graft, exploited poor workers, and did environmental damage, along with all of the good that they did uniting a once-fractured country. I want to acknowledge that and urge all who use the magical force of the railroads to also acknowledge it and to do what they can to ameliorate the damage.