Her father took her by the hand and led her into the living

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room, where her grandmother used to watch television. There was a large, antique grandfather clock, which had stopped years before because it could no longer be repaired.

“Nothing in the world is ever completely wrong, my dear,”

said her father, looking at the clock. “Even a stopped clock is right twice a day.”

She walked for some time in the wooded mountains before she found the Magus. He was sitting on a rock, near the top of the mountain, contemplating the valley and the mountains to the west. It was a really beautiful view, and Brida recalled that spirits preferred such places.

“Is God only the God of beauty?” she asked as she approached.

“If so, what about the ugly people and places of the world?”

The Magus did not reply. Brida felt embarrassed.

“You probably don’t remember me. I was here two months ago. I spent the whole night alone in the forest. I promised myself that I would only come back when I had discovered my path. I’ve met a woman called Wicca.”

The Magus started but realized with relief that the girl hadn’t noticed. Then he smiled to himself at the irony of fate.

“Wicca told me that I’m a witch,” the girl went on.

“Don’t you trust her?”

This was the first question the Magus had asked since she

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arrived, and Brida was pleased to know that he was actually listening to what she was saying. Up until then, she hadn’t been sure.

“Yes, I trust her,” she said. “And I trust in the Tradition of the Moon. But I know, too, that the Tradition of the Sun helped me by forcing me to understand about the Dark Night. That’s why I came back.”

“Then sit down and enjoy the sunset,” said the Magus.

“I’m not staying alone in the forest again,” she replied. “The last time I was here—”

The Magus interrupted her:

“Don’t say that. God is in the word.”

Wicca had said much the same thing.

“What did I say wrong?”

“If you say it was the ‘last’ time, it might well turn out to be the last. What you meant was ‘the most recent time I was here’.”

Brida was worried. She would have to take great care with her words from now on. She decided to sit quietly and do as the Magus said and watch the sunset.

Doing so made her nervous. It would not be dark for nearly an hour, and she had a lot to talk about and many things to say and ask. Whenever she sat still, just looking at something, she got the feeling that she was wasting precious time when she should be doing things or meeting people. She could be spending her time so much better, because there was still so much to learn. And yet, as the sun sank lower on the horizon, and the clouds filled up with rays of gold and pink, Brida had the feeling that what she was

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struggling for in life was exactly this, to be able to sit one day and contemplate just such a sunset.

“Do you know how to pray?” asked the Magus at one point.

Of course she did. Everyone knew how to pray.

“Right, as soon as the sun touches the horizon, say a prayer. In the Tradition of the Sun, it is through prayers that we commune with God. A prayer, when couched in the words of the soul, is far more powerful than any ritual.”

“I don’t know how to pray, because my soul is silent,” said Brida.

The Magus laughed.

“Only the truly enlightened have silent souls.”

“So why can’t I pray with my soul, then?”

“Because you lack the humility to listen to it and find out what it wants. You’re embarrassed to listen to the urgings of your soul and afraid to take those requests to God, because you think He doesn’t have time to concern Himself with them.”

She was watching a sunset, sitting beside a sage. However, as always happened at such moments, she had the feeling that she didn’t deserve to be there.

“It’s true that I feel unworthy. I always think the spiritual search was made for people better than me.”

“Those people, if they exist, don’t need to search for anything.

They are the manifestation of the spirit. The search was made for people like us.”

“Like us” he had said, and yet he was a long way ahead of her.

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“God is God in both the Tradition of the Moon and the Tradition of the Sun,” said Brida, believing that the Traditions were the same and only differed in the ways in which they were taught.

“So teach me how to pray.”

The Magus turned to face the sun and closed his eyes.

“We are human beings, Lord, and we do not know our own greatness. Lord, give us the humility to ask for what we need, because no desire is vain and no request is futile. Each of us knows how best to feed our own soul; give us the courage to see our desires as coming from the fount of Your eternal Wisdom. Only by accepting our desires can we begin to understand who we are.