At the dead center of the night a mirror ceases to be glass and becomes still water, and what rises in it is not your face but the country that lies beneath sleep.
This working coaxes a threshold open between the waking eye and the dreaming one, a passage backed in old quicksilver through which a seeker may pass and be brought safely home again. It teaches that a reflection is never only a likeness but a door, and that every door asks of you a name and a vow before it will swing wide.
The Working
- At midnight stand a darkened or black-framed mirror upright and set a single candle before it, so the flame burns in the narrow space between you and the glass.
- Light a thread of incense and let its smoke curtain that space until the room smells of the far side of sleep.
- Wet your fingertips in cool water and trace the four edges of the mirror, naming it a door and no longer a wall.
- Fix your gaze past the flame into the dark glass and let your eyes soften until the reflection loosens and begins to drift.
- Speak the incantation low, once for the waking world and once for the sleeping one, holding fast the single question you would carry into dream.
- When the glass seems to deepen, close your eyes, cross the threshold in your mind, and lie down at once to sleep as the candle gutters behind you.
The Incantation
Mirror of quicksilver, mirror of night,
open the door that is sealed to sight.
By flame and by water I name you a gate;
carry me past where the sleepers wait.
Let me walk in and let me walk free,
and bring back the face you have shown to me.
Cover the mirror with a dark cloth to seal the door behind you, and the working ends when morning finds the glass a wall once more.