When I was younger I was very religious. I was earnest, idealistic and, truth be told, more than a little gullible. Over the years, many of those hard edges have rubbed off, and I'd like to say, "Good riddance!"
One of the things I have pondered recently is the role of magic in religion and life in general. Full disclosure: I desperately want magic to be real. I want to believe that with some kind of mental effort or the right words, I can make reality more palatable. The sick can be healed, my bank account can be full, my life can be smooth, with just the right incantation or meditation.
I feel like there should be that kind of wonderful thing in the universe. I feel like that kind of power is somehow my birthright and that I'm simply not capable of accessing it.
The reality is, however, after all of the prayers, all of the meditation, all of the hoping and praying, I'm no closer to being able to create a result than any other Joe Shmoe. There are no divine voices that whisper. There are no angels or devils to make things change. There are no visions or revelations beyond what are conjured up by my own imagination. There are no spontaneous remissions of illnesses.
That's not for a lack of trying. I've read the old books and the new. I've spent hundreds of hours in practice of both eastern and western traditions across multiple religious lines in both ancient formulations and modern new-agey versions. And while I've had many nice experiences along the way, none of them have ever gotten close to the miraculous.
Now you're milage might be very different from mine. Perhaps you're a prodigy and have spiritual experiences all the time. If so, good for you! What you're experiencing is incredibly rare and you couldn't teach it to another person. So enjoy it.