On time

Magick is all about mythoform and mythology—the deep stories we tell that shape how we see and move through the world.

One of the core myths we’ve inherited?
That ever-present sinking feeling that we’re “wasting time.”
I still feel trapped by it. Caught in an antagonistic system that breeds confusion, anxiety, and fear.
That’s not an accident—it’s a built-in feature.

“Where do these white people run to every morning? To their workplaces, of course. Why do they have to run to something that is not running away from them? They do not have time.”

I had to say this word in French because there is no equivalent in the local language. The conversation came to a halt when the elder had to ask what this “time” is.
(Malidoma Somé, Ritual: Power, Healing, and Community)

Let that sink in.

This isn’t just a philosophical take—this is about how myth (yes, even modern, “rational” cultures have them) is silently scripting our lives.
Because “time” we’re so afraid of wasting—it doesn’t exist the way we were told.

This is my second time coming across this.

In Yurugu by Marimba Ani:

“Time” in this view moves ceaselessly towards some point never reached in the “future.” This sense of telos (Greek for “end,” “purpose,” or “goal”) is an important aspect of European mythology—the stories a culture uses to explain the world, its origins, and the fundamental aspects of human existence.

It gives meaning to European life.

Yet the “future” creates more problems than it resolves. Ironically, this “future” is approached by the ever-present line of time through which the European seeks fulfillment, but at the same time assures her/him of never being fulfilled.

The “future” represents unattainable perfection.
It is an abstraction that is unreachable and, therefore, unknowable.
And what is unknowable for the European causes anxiety.

The European psyche needs the illusion of a rationally ordered universe in which everything can be known.

A future that never comes.
A perfection you never reach.
A loop of anxiety, fear, and shame dressed up in suits, clocks, and productivity.

And the gag is—this was all by design.

European mythoform—the unconscious structural pattern shaping its worldview—creates an unknown and unknowable future whose only relationship to the past and present is that it determines them, but cannot be determined by them. This antagonistic situation causes emotional confusion, anxiety, and fear for the European.

Yet this oppressive future cannot be avoided,
Because the clock moves them toward it at an uncontrollable pace—
Which seems to move faster and faster.

All of this is an effect of the limitations of lineal, secular time.
It is neither phenomenal nor sacred nor spiritual.
Participants in the culture have only one recourse against the fear: Science (Purchasing of “insurance” a attempt to escape the fear.)

They seek to relieve their anxiety by gaining control over what controls them. Failing, in the end, to find fulfillment. Because the European conception of science is above all secular, alienating, literate, rationalistic, and linear.

This abstract and oppressive future continues to threaten, to intimidate, to frighten. They move inexorably toward it, a movement that imparts value (“progress”), and yet the perceived destiny is fear-producing.

The European worldview doesn’t just teach this logic—
It hides it beneath the illusion of being “universal.”
Then turns around and sells that illusion to the rest of the world back to US

The culture teaches its logic. It hands you its worldview.
You absorb it, bury it, act on it—and forget it’s not truth, it’s programming.

“Experts” dig that logic back up, slap a label on it, and sell it as universal truth.

They present it with such authority—it can only be the only valid way to think.
But what they’re really pushing is their assumed reality, dressed up as logic and objectivity.

And because of the way it’s delivered, It gets imposed. Globalized.

Meanwhile, its roots—Christian morality, Western value systems, white fear, capitalist logic—stay camouflaged under this fake-ass pseudouniversalism.

It’s clever.
It’s violent.
And it keeps us divided.

In a magickal practice, we don’t work with those stories—we create new ones.
We bend time.
Pause it.
Let it circle back.
Let it disappear.

We can reclaim time, redefine time, and name our own rhythms.
We can create moments that are timeless.
This is the beauty of the path.

The further I go, the more I realize this isn’t just about rope, or candles, or chants.
It’s about epistemology.
It’s about which stories get believed—and why.
It’s about what we can do once we stop believing the lies.

Because the mythoform of the dominant culture is designed to make you chase something you can never catch.
It tells you time is linear, scarce, and slipping away.
That if you’re not productive, you’re not valuable.
That rest is lazy.
That pleasure is dangerous.

But we know better.
This requires deep consideration of all the bullshit that’s been assumed.
We remember who the fuck we are.
We strip it.
Burn it.
Build Anew.