A lion doesn't need to tell you how dangerous he is. Have you ever noticed how those old sayings our mothers used to spout carry so much truth? Here's one... empty tins rattle the loudest. Food for thought on a Monday morning.
As we travel on our spiritual journeys we're going to come across people listing their credentials and their powers and their gifts. They're going to tell us how wonderful they are and how unique their gifts are. They're going to dress the part and act the part but I've got to wonder how much of it is pure acting. You don't need to look like you've just crawled out of a coffin to be a witch and you don't need to claim to be an ascended master to have wisdom to offer. People get caught up in the drama and often avoid doing the real, soul shaking, bone crunching work.
I've heard more wisdom from the mouths of those who claim to know nothing than I ever heard from those claiming to have a direct connection to a specific angel. I've seen more everyday magick from people who laid no claim to the magick they did than from those who whipped out wands and athames from beneath their Steampunk skirts.
It may sound completely bitchy but my point is this. The beauty of the spiritual journey is in the everyday moments of discovery and not in the posturing. It's in deep moments of anguish that we find our strength and not when we're playing a part in public. Real truth doesn't come when our lips are moving. It comes when we turn inwards and close our mouths. It comes when we open our ears. It comes when we allow Spirit to take the stage instead of trying to dominate it ourselves.