Both evolution and revolution are hot topics these days.

One for its place in the education world. The other for its place in the political world.

What many people don’t seem to realize is how similar the concepts of evolution and revolution as we know them in the external world are to how they apply to the internal world.

Evolution is a slow process. It’s not always the most efficient thing, but it is effective in creating long-term changes that work and stick around. Even better, most of the work and time put in to evolution pays off in the long run in one way or another–in the biological world, nature just kind of recycles its failed experiments, letting them decompose back into their base bits, to support what comes after.

Revolution may get off to a slow start, but by the time anyone knows enough to call it what it is, things are moving quickly and violently. There are no peaceful revolutions. Revolution is always accompanied by violence and destruction. Changes are made, but rarely are the right ones right away. Even more rarely do they stick around for long periods of time (especially when you compare them to evolved changes). Revolution burns a lot of energy and leaves a kind of scorched earth behind. The thing that most often followed a revolution, is some sort of retaliation.

As an initiate on a metaphysical path, I have experienced both revolutionary and evolutionary change. Without question, I prefer the latter. I wish I could say that the former isn’t necessary because it can be such an unpleasant thing.

Unfortunately, as anyone who walks a spiritual path honestly will tell you, pain is part of the process.

One of my favorite quotes is from Victor Frankl: “That which is to give light must first endure burning.”

While that may not always hold true in modern science, the metaphysically focused alchemist knows that there must be some sort of combustion to create change. And if there’s one things revolution brings with it, is combustion.

We must always remember, though, that while the change brought on by revolution may be invigorating, affirming, cathartic and obvious, they are just as prone to being fleeting as a political revolution. It is easy to get caught up in the pretense of apparent change. It is easy to not notice all the problems that have been caused by a quick and violent change. And, perhaps worst of all, it is easy to find a false sense of accomplishment and safety as the smoke begins to blow away on the wind.

Evolution is a slow, deep, sustainable burning–a life-affirming warmth of growth. It is not flashy. It often feels uncertain. And, without a doubt, sometimes it feels like nothing at all is happening.

But it is happening.

The two methods can work very well together. Once we reach a certain point in our personal evolution, we may need to revolt in order to break the ties to our old patterns–to remove those things holding us back. If we haven’t forced the revolution, it will compliment the evolution and lay clear the changes we have undergone.

Changes that will stay and serve as the foundation for the next round of growth.

Too many people get caught up in the vividness and flash of revolution and use all their energy trying to force the next big breakthrough. Many times, they do themselves (and sometimes those around them) more harm than good.

As with all things metaphysical, it is nearly impossible to tell which stage you’re at when you’re there. It’s always a guessing game–a bit of trial and error, at the least–until after that volatile moment has passed.

But whether you’re crawling out of the primordial soup onto dry land for the first time or waving a triumphant flag after storming your own personal Bastille, change is happening.

It is the duty of the initiate to pay attention to the reality of that change–to the burning–and not be blinded by the light it generates.

I was sent a link to the International Alchemy Conference by a friend of mine. It looks really neat. If I were out Vegas way and had the money, I would go.

Just the idea of the conference is interesting enough, but as I bounced down the list of presenters I was really surprised. On that list is none other than Jeff McBride.

Now, to most of you that’s probably not a big deal. Thing is, this guy’s from my home town. I saw him perform just a few years ago. He’s an amazing stage magician, if you’re ever in Vegas, catch his show if you can. What I didn’t realize when I last talked to him (while writing and article on the performance he was giving on my old middle school stage as a fundrasier for an arts education program) was that he was a Hermeticist, too.

Not that it’s all that surprising that an awesome stage magician would be a real magician, I’m sure that happens frequently (and, really, some of the big names make me wonder if some of the stuff they do is actually just illusion). It’s just impressive to see not only someone I’ve spoken to, but someone from my home town on the list of speakers.

Gathering, mixing, burning, reducing, extracting, repeating again and again and again. The alchemists of old–the forefathers of modern chemistry–are well known for their quest to transmute base elements like lead into something worthwhile, like gold.

What many don’t realize is that their quest for physical transmutation was mirrored in their search for a spiritual one. Because while gold may be useful on the physical plane, purity of spirit and purpose and strength of will are the commodities in the spiritual realm.

And so they worked through ritual and meditation, through action and inaction, through trials and challenges, to find that elusive equation that would get them closer to what they wanted to be.

Even the most mundane of us does the same thing. We don’t always work with the dedication and goal of an alchemist, but (if we try even a little) we all try to be better than we are. We seek to take the base material we were given at birth and transmute it into something more grand–something akin to gold.

It is a long and arduous process. Many give up and settle at a comfortable point of equilibrium for as long as the Universe will let them. Others, though… others continue to press on, often against stupendous odds, until they either achieve their goal or can go no further.

Through it all, we change. You and I are far from the same people we were a decade ago. Some of us are far from the people we were yesterday. Sometimes our experiments are successful and we move forward leaps and bounds, moving closer to the person we want to become. Other times, things go awry and we slide backward into the just-slightly-charred remains of who we once were.

Old habits, they say, are hard to break. And those old ways beckon to us loudest when the going has gotten tough. It would be so much easier, we think, to just go back to the way things were. So much simpler to just stop trying.

Maybe you can do that. But the world around you moves forever forward. To slide against it–especially if you have previously made great progress–can turn out to be more painful than persevering through the current rough spot.

It is easy to forget who we once were. Easy to get caught up in the flare and thunder of the moment. Equally easy to lose sight of our goal to those same things. Joy is as much a trap as suffering.

The alchemists knew. They knew that everything was an equation. Everything had to balance out. Sure, you could change lead into gold, but you needed more than just the lead. There was a process that had to take place. Ingredients that had to be gathered and mixed in the most certain secret and sacred measures.

Then it all needed to be cured. It needed to be mixed and heated for the transmutation to take place.

And that transmutation didn’t just change the lead. No. It destroyed the lead and re-created it as gold.

That is what we do was we move forward with our development. We destroy who we were to become who we are. No matter how much it seems that we sometimes go back, slipping into old habits and patterns, we never truly do. We can’t. The “I” of the past has turned to dust and ash. Any attempt to reclaim that is as futile as trying to hold all of the ocean in your hand.

So onward we go. Through the transforming flame. Through the pressure and heat of the athanor, we simmer and cure for years until, finally, if we persevere, we emerge changed.

We become who we are meant to be.

That destination–that destiny–is ours to choose.

And what a hard choice it is.