The base state of formless magic, the primordial chaos of infinite possibility. Magic itself. The Weave. There are many names for essentially the same concept.
Magic is chaos, for magic is the possibility of all. It's the glory of the universe, the very stuff of which worlds are created; the pure, raw energy that descends from high above.
They call it the lemniscata, infinity: imagined as a secondary world or perhaps just an always vibrating tune that sits aligned with the strings of reality. It's from where children are born and seeds suddenly burst and it is the royal all spells herald when they spring into being.
For a wielder of magic, the veil between the lemniscata and reality is an important but frail one. When still young, many mages will absent-mindedly perform small miracles; and as older, experienced practitioners, a quill scribbling by itself while the sorcerer is unfocused isn't an uncommon sight.
Raw Casting as it's known, is a vice to battle however. While comfortable, yes even easier than normal spellwork, nothing brings on the Tearing faster than an inattentive and lax use of the potent magic without limitations.
Drawing on magic subconsciously makes the link between the lemniscata and your mind stronger. It binds them together, and make you more the tool of the mana than the mana is the tool of you.