Death as a Source of Power

As part of my participation in an April Instagram challenge, I drew a card from the Major Arcana meant to represent the archetype from which I draw power. As I started to shuffle, my mind began to wander...what card would appear? I can say that of all of the images that passed through my thoughts, I was not expecting the one that I finally pulled - and it is in those moments that the most interesting and unexpected insights emerge....

I draw power from Death.

Druid Craft Tarot - Art by Will Worthington

I see the tale of Ceridwen, Gwion, and Taliesen here in the cauldron's crest, and it has special significance for me at the moment, another iteration of a common theme of inspiration and transformation.

In Death I see the story of our ancestors. How many people have contributed to our bloodline, have died without their names or stories ever being recorded? And yet they influence us still, in our blood and bones, in our örlog and our hamingja, the substance of our very souls. We are their legacy. Death - even our own mortal one - is not the end of our tale, nor that of those who will draw on our guidance far in the future when we are in turn ancestors, when perhaps even our own names and stories have been forgotten. No matter what, our essence is an indelible thread in the fabric of existence.

I draw my power from my ancestral past, and from the mythologies that still serve to teach timeless lessons to us after thousands of years.

I draw my power from the cycle of death and birth, or creation, and change; death and life are indivisible lovers.

Yesterday's Hanged Man, drawn as the "source of my skills," brought to mind, as always, Odin's story of self-sacrifice. Today's Death furthers that line of connection: to greet its presence every day, even in its smallest measures - the death of a thought, a feeling, an assumption, a limitation, of an expectation or desire - to allow something new to be born in its place: that is life and growth.

Three Angles on Inauguration Day

This morning I pulled out two decks that called to be used for a reading: Dark Goddess Tarot and the Earthbound Oracle. It was one of those moments where your intuition is pulling you in a particular direction, and rather than question it you just go along for the ride. As I was settling down to shuffle I realized that the Dark Goddess is fitting for today as thousands of women descend upon Washington D.C. to announce their (our) unyielding presence.

First I drew from the Earthbound Oracle: Deceit.

A two-headed snake lies coiled, looking outward. One of the most mind-boggling aspects of the current political situation in the United States is the depth of shameless hypocrisy surrounding the notion of "lying." Hillary Clinton was marked with the scarlet letter "L" and yet it was her opponent who strangely became ever more popular with each falsehood uttered confidently and contemptuously. It has become jarringly apparent that truth is irrelevant. Nearly everything that the President-elect says is false - demonstrably so - and yet his followers either trust him in spite of the evidence, or they downplay its significance. In my opinion that is extraordinarily dangerous.

Yesterday one of my favorite news pundits said (and I'm paraphrasing here): "It's no longer time to support the important institutions and programs that make up Obama's strong legacy - it's now time to defend them." We can battle deceit with truth, but we have to be sure that we make our voices heard, and that we are unrelenting and consistent in our message.

Then I drew Santa Muerte, Death, from the Dark Goddess Tarot.

One of the most common ways that this card is described by readers is as a "transition," so it's apt to see it on this day of critical transfer of power from an outgoing, and very dear, President, to a new, and rather unpopular one. This is certainly a death, of sorts. And it's not without pain and grief. In fact there is a group of women I know who are wearing black today, in mourning. I decided to don, instead of black, my Obama shirt, which I purchased promptly following the election day this past November. I didn't formulate the sentiment into words, but essentially I was declaring my position: This is my President. My mother posted a wise quote by Judd Apatow today:

"I don’t think it serves a purpose to be against him. It only serves a purpose to fight issue by issue."

So in the wake of the inauguration, a time replete with uncertainty and charged with the unmoored feeling that is a part of loss, this gives us something to focus on: a tangible action to take, a perspective we can get behind.

When I went to photograph these cards I decided to take that moment to pull my daily rune. I don't normally post about my rune draws, but when Uruz came out of my rune pouch, it felt like a potent cap to the two cards I had drawn, a pyramid of complementary energies.

Uruz is the wild aurochs, it is strength and vibrancy and well-being and power. My thoughts went immediately to the women marching on Washington today, and to all of the people gathering together across the country to make their convictions evident - both to the powers that be, and to each other. There is great power in unity, and great strength in sharing a common cause. This is precisely what we need as we take our next steps forward as a people. May our endurance never wane.

Week Ahead: Finish What You Start

Last Monday I drew two cards to highlight the predominant energies for the week ahead: Queen of Cups and High Priestess. Both were very relevant themes, and so on this Monday I decided to do to the same. After shuffling and cutting the deck I noticed that the "shadow card" was the High Priestess, forming a sort of thread of connection from one week to the next.

The two principal cards that I drew from the Giants Tarot were Death (Hela) reversed, and the 8 of Pentacles (Olvalde and Sons):

Hela is the goddess of the underworld, and Olvalde was an etin renowned for his ale-brewing skills.

This pair tells me that I'll be working diligently to tie up loose ends, to finish what I've begun, to work toward closing out projects. Indeed there is one rather large project that I've been wanting to finish for the past two weeks, but it keeps getting pushed off due to other urgent, more immediate issues that have been cropping up here and there of late.

Along another vein, when I see Olvalde and his kids on the 8 of Coins card, I see myself and my three kids making magic happen in the kitchen. So just maybe we'll see what fun we can cook up this week. Teaching the kids to make meals is such an 8 of Coins activity, and watching them grow into competent little chefs who can whip up some very nice grub is extraordinarily satisfying.

Have a happy week, everyone!

Update: It was indeed a productive week! I made a lot of progress on a pile of files I had been needing to tend to, and one of my team members ended up helping to revise the dregs of that big project that had been on the back burner.

Full Moon in Gemini: Bonding the Self

This morning I felt drawn to pull a few daily (or - moment -) cards from the Earthbound Oracle. As I laid them out they wove a clear story before me, and engaged with their tale I decided to take a look at the "shadow" card at the bottom of the deck - Luna - fitting for today's full moon.

But the cards, the central line of three, had much to say about where I'm at right now that also flowed with the fact that today's full moon is in Gemini.....

Death - Bond - Self

On the left, reflecting where I've been of late, Death symbolizes the deep transformations that have been flowing through my life on so many levels. The lemniscate over the third eye speaks to the endless cycles that we can perceive most clearly when we still our Selves. I like how purple ribbons curl upward, new sight being revealed. In many ways I am indeed experiencing new sight - a new way of "looking" at the intangible world, and even a new way of viewing and interacting with my environment at work due to a change in position. And just visible behind the skull, a full moon glows.....

To the right there lies the Self, an eye opened outward. When I was preparing for my recent interview I pulled a card from this deck to help me focus on my approach, and it was Self. Let them see your heart. Be you. And so that is what I did. And it was good. But now I am exploring new aspects of my Self. I have always felt that I was more an "individual" - not a follower, not necessarily a leader, but, well, perhaps a loner, though that carries a slightly negative connotation that I don't love. Yet I am a leader now. What does that mean to me, about me, for me? How does that impact my own sense of self? What natural characteristics will I cultivate and nurture and strengthen through embracing this new role?

In the center is Bond, bringing together Death and Self. The image appears to be an atom with an acorn nucleus and leafy electrons swirling about. Electrons have a negative charge and are bound to the atom's nucleus which is made of protons (with a positive charge) and neutrons (which have no charge at all). Opposites attract: how appropriate! And there is that the acorn, the seed of change, that tiny emissary of life that with just the right amount of rainfall, sunlight, oxygen and nutrients will grow ever stronger, up up into an oak tree. Change brings new sight, brings new possibilities. Change is one of our only constants in life, as ironic as it is, and change offers us new ways of understanding ourselves. (Funny, then, - or synchronistic - that I chose the 2 of Pentacles from two different decks this morning!) ;-)

Tonight's full moon is in Gemini, and About.com describes it as a time of: 

"de-coding language; observing social trends; wearing many hats; the view from all sides; shaking up reality; playing tricks with perception; fascinating fragments of style and culture; getting the cosmic joke; being contradictory"

Yes.

In my own time of bonding I am standing on a precipice looking both downward and upward. I see from where I've come; and I see that there is more ahead, though I may not be able to make out the details. I am no longer who I was, and yet I haven't entirely become who I will be. Sacred space. Ancient and natural. The current turns back on itself, as it always will, and yet never returns to the same place. 

I Know This Much Is True

Yes, you may have to face conflict, and I know that you don't prefer that.

But you have a panther inside of you.

Try not to suppress its essence; rather,

let it breathe with your breath.

Don't walk away.

Yes, you will have to wander through the deep unknown,

and uncover parts of yourself that you didn't realize were there.

You'll feel afraid from time to time, but don't give up.

This is death

and it is birth.

You are becoming you.

Your fire will lead you onward.

This is not a mask you must learn to wear;

it is a power you were always meant to wield.

Guest Post: To Be Loved Is to Be Given Life

Today I'm featuring a guest post written by none other than my mother, Cecilia Skidmore: licensed counselor, grief and change expert, former radio host, and MBTI administrator (to say very little!). To read a bit more about her click here, and to view her blog click here.

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"TO BE LOVED IS TO BE GIVEN LIFE" - those words were written years ago by the artist wife of my minister and he used them as a Christmas card the year following her death. To be loved is to be given life -odd words for a memorial for someone who has died. What does that mean? Given life...

In our society, in relatively recent times, we avoid mention of death. We left the armbands behind, left the wakes held at home behind, left the formal mourning periods behind. Death is a spectre, just like on Halloween, hovering in the shadows of our homes, our lives, our minds, and we use a great deal of energy trying to find a way to shut the door on those shadows and seal them off forever.
When our childrens' pets die, we buy another. The illusion is that life is replaceable, that pain can be erased in the blink of an eye with a new puppy. When our parents die, we keep our children home from the funeral. We keep our tears and pain inside, so that they (and we) won't have to experience that so uncomfortable emotion, despair. It feels so out of control and so intense that we fear we might frighten the children. So, while we can't replace Grandma with a new puppy, we can act as if it's ok that she died. We might even pretend she's "away" or "asleep," common euphemisms for the word "dead." We can not talk about her; we can fill the space she had in our lives and in our homes with other people or more work - or a new car. Or a new love. The hole is not only a physical one (she's not in that chair anymore) but a spiritual one and a psychological one- and we race around desperately trying to fill it with everything and anything except the few things we really need.

Golden Tarot - L. Dean

We need a light to shine on those dark spaces in our psyches where death lurks. We need to look death square in the face--and when we do, we find that death looks very familiar. It looks like us. It looks like our loves and our hopes, but also like our failures and lost dreams. It looks final, though - like we don't get another chance. Perhaps that scares us the most. And perhaps it should. We need to say and do important things now - not after they are no longer here.

We need education. Sit with someone who is dying, as I have done at Hospice. When you spend time with a dying person, you find they are Person first. Not a spectre. They live, often better than before. They find great pleasure in people, in children, in animals. They still find joy in reading, in smelling fresh cut grass, in watching the birds on a snow-covered pine. They are thoughtful and less concerned with things tangible - like money or possessions, except as a legacy they might be leaving a loved one. But they are very real, very human - very alive.

5 of Water - Gaian Tarot
Joanna Powell Colbert

We need to ponder what comes after death. (I firmly believe in reincarnation until someone I love dies - then the thought of them embarking on a new life when I've just arrived in Heaven seems so sad - so I revert to the safety of clouds and harps.) We need to read books, talk about it with friends, and weigh what we learn. A firm belief in something greater than ourselves, or a firm belief in the natural cycles of life and death on earth can be comforting.

We need to learn about grieving as well. It helps to have a belief about life beyond death - but usually that's not our biggest concern when a loved one dies. An incredible amount of the pain of grieving comes not from worry about where they are, but from the fact that they are not here with us. Grief can be an emotional, psychological and physical maelstrom. So much is unanticipated, unexpected. We experience a gnawing in our guts, a weariness in our bones, a breaking of our hearts. When my mother died, some thirty years ago, I wrote a poem:

"This morning when I woke up, I found my heart had been ripped from my body....What I want to know is... why am I still alive?"

We become forgetful, losing moments, hours, names, faces, appointments. We see things: the look of our beloved on a stranger in the hardware store - or visions that are so real, but impossible to explain.

We hear voices - or we are visited in our dreams.

We remember and remember and remember - with others, on paper, in our daydreams and our night dreams. We relive so many moments, trying to keep them alive and here with us. We are so afraid to forget.

Vision Quest Tarot

And people, other loving, fearful people try to push us forward, to get us (and themselves) away from the pain. So gradually we have our lost loved ones in our lives (so it doesn't hurt) and we gradually talk less about our beloved - so it doesn't hurt. But the hurt comes from a deep would and deep wounds take a long time to heal.

So we need to know about grieving and how long it will take. Hiding from the spectres of death and grieving leave us unprotected from the turmoil they bring. If we know, we can take care of our needs, learn to share our pain and not be overwhelmed. Grief happens all our lives, if not from death, then from divorce, or job loss, or moves, or aging. The grief experience is the same, and it carries compound interest from all the others before it. The more we know, the more we can help ourselves and our children.

At last we can take the time and energy to begin to understand who we are now - after.

When someone dies, they are transformed. Some faiths believe our souls go to a heaven of clouds and harps where we live happily ever after. Some believe literally that God's house has many mansions where we will all go,, and other that only they will receive everlasting life. Some believe in a seemingly endless cycle of life, learning, death and rebirth until we reach oneness with God. People who don't believe in a God or afterlife acknowledge that at least the body becomes part of the earth again, fertilizer, renewing other life.

The reality is, when someone dies, they are transformed - whatever you pay attention to.

Earthbound Oracle

But so are we - we who are left behind. The person we were when our beloved was alive changes - in sometimes very subtle, sometimes profound ways - always viscerally. So when the time for mourning and grieving has passed, when we awake to a new morning, free of the deep pain, we are newborn.

We are a fresh creation.

But we have not left our beloved behind. We have not forgotten. If death is like a shedding of our outer skin, a metamorphosis, grieving and healing from grief is like communion - an absorption into our living flesh, our changing psyche, our evolving spirit - of the essence of our beloved.

It's hard to understand - ask someone who has grieved. Those parts we thought were gone forever have now become part of us. And with that transplant comes a new human being - broken, but stronger at the broken places, as Hemingway said. Malleable, but firm, solid and real, but transcendent. All those cliches about dawn after darkness, spring following winter - are real, true.

They are true because love and grief are inextricably bound. We don't grieve what we never loved. We grieve only those things or people who have enriched our lives and given it meaning. When we love deeply, we grieve deeply. But we do not forget. And in our remembering we keep our loved one alive.

To be loved is to be given life.

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Ashé

May Day Blog Hop 2015: Hard is Real

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Welcome to the May 1st 2015 Tarot Blog Hop! Please use the links at the top and bottom of this post to navigate through the circle of bloggers. Our wrangler, Morgan Drake Eckstein, has asked us to discuss the "difficult" cards in the Tarot deck, such as the Tower, Death, 10 of Swords, 3 of Swords, and the Devil. How do we work with cards like these? What do we tell clients? 

Last July I wrote a post about Death which covers the essence of how I feel about this topic. I'd like to repost it here, but first I want to mention some additional thoughts I have about why these cards are so important, and how versatile they really are:

Pamela Colman Smith Commemorative Deck
U.S. Games Systems

1) It's a slight misconception that receiving "difficult" cards in a reading is always a turn-off; sometimes it’s cathartic to receive a card like Death, or the 3 of Swords, in a reading because it acknowledges where we’re at. Sometimes all we really need is to know that we’re not struggling in a vacuum.

2) Without light, there is no shadow. We feel relief because we struggle. We hurt because we have loved. The dawn can only come after the night has passed (you get the idea). We read for the whole story, not for an idealized version of reality. Grief is part of life. To erase, or minimize, the difficult cards would be to ignore and gloss over the deeply real, painful, important parts of what it is to be alive. (I'll talk more about this in regards to Death, below)

3) Cards have degrees of intensity (even upright). Sometimes the 10 of Swords signifies a painful ending, but sometimes it’s back pain or exhaustion. The 3 of Swords can mean heartbreak or betrayal, but it can also highlight a sense of disappointment or subtle loneliness.

4) Change isn’t always external, or relationship-based; it doesn’t always mean that your house is going to burn down, or that job loss is imminent. Sometimes it’s about our inner worlds, our perspectives on life. The Tower can represent sudden illumination, a breakthrough that changes your understanding of a situation, or of yourself. It can be transformative and exhilarating, surprising, maybe, but not necessarily disastrous. And if it covers a short span of time, it can be perfectly mundane (the Tower was my weekly draw once when my cell phone fell and broke and my car battery died).

These cards are here for a purpose. They are just as crucial and necessary as the Star, the Sun, and the 2 of Cups. We should not edit the Tarot deck (as we discussed last Hop); if anything we should edit, or clarify, our intentions, release our expectations, prior to requesting, or conducting, a reading.  If we can approach the reading process with an open heart and a discerning mind, great insight, truth, and healing is available, no matter what cards appear in our spread. 

Silver Witchcraft Tarot - XVI Tower
Moore/Rivoli, Llewellyn Publications

Now I want to share a post that I composed specifically about the Death card, titled "Death Isn't Just a New Beginning":

"I've read several times recently (and it comes up quite a lot) that Death is nothing to be scared of, it simply means a new beginning, and isn't that wonderful?

I think this happens because of the over-vilification of Death in the past, especially on television shows or in the movies, where the card was played up as a symbol of impending doom, and usually physical death. There are many readers that want to make the card more friendly by now playing up the "new chapter" of life that is a natural result of big change, but I think that mindset, while understandable, robs the work that Death does, detracts from the importance of its process in our lives.

Because Death is a process. It's not called the "New Beginning" card because before something new (regardless of how wonderful it is) can begin, something else has to end. And with endings comes mourning, struggle, fear, and loss. And those are challenging emotions to experience, but there is great catharsis in allowing that grief to unfold. Anyone who has experienced the energy of the Death card understands that there is far more to it than a nice new start (even though if we have any awareness of what that new phase might be, it may serve as a nice focal point for us while we're in the trenches). It's work! It's sad, and it hurts, and at the same time there is a touching beauty to it because it's a sacred aspect of the experience of being alive, and of growth.

Vision Quest Tarot
Winter/Dose, U.S. Games Systems

I hope that all readers honor that sacred space if Death should appear in a reading. Rather than rushing to the "happy ending," place value on the journey involved.  It's true that having to convey difficult messages is a skill readers must work on (and one that takes time to develop) and sometimes it's easier to play up the sunny part - the new start - but it's really an art worth honing so that the full and powerful message that Death symbolizes isn't lost in translation.

I read a wonderful quote today that quite honestly made me cry, and it's the truest definition of the Death card (and some many recognize the Tower here as well) that I've ever read, and I want to share it with you:

“Whatever can be threatened, whatever can be shaken, whatever you fear cannot stand, is destined to crash. Do not go down with the ship. Let that which is destined to become the past slip away. Believe that the real you is that which beckons from the future. If it is a sadder you, it will be a wiser one. And dawn will follow the darkness sooner or later. Rebirth can never come without death.” 

― Robert M. Price"

Finally, in honor of all of those "difficult" cards, here is a powerful, soul-piercing song from Ulali about death, healing, and honoring our ancestors:

Happy May Day, Happy Beltane, Happy Hopping!

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A Moth Unfolding Its Wings

It's Sunday evening. I filled my belly with a simple dinner of roast chicken, mashed potatoes with garlic, and carrots. Later I decocted carefully-sliced ginger root and added lime juice and honey to make one of my favorite hot beverages. As I listen to my children's chatter, their pre-bed busy-ness, I've decided to pull a card for my week ahead, using my Halloween Oracle (Stacey Demarco).

I shuffled my cards, and drew Death. Sigh. My first thought was: again? This card has been following me closely of late. In fact it was my card of the month from my Taroscopes for October: 

"Significant aspects of your life are shifting and changing, which can be pretty uncomfortable. Know that the transformations unfolding now will ultimately leave you stronger, and even happier, when all is said and done."  

Halloween Oracle - Stacey Demarco

Yes, this week, and this month, are certainly times of big change. Gabriel has just started attending daycare, which in and of itself is a huge transition. He's three years old and loves to socialize; he was very ready for this. When my girls reached this milestone in their lives they were not particularly happy about it. In fact, Lourdes cried so much, and was so miserable, we ended up plucking her right out of the center again after three weeks, and she didn't set foot inside such an establishment again until she started kindergarten (at which time she was startlingly ready). Gabriel, however, has been raring to go, and has not cried at all. Well, that's not entirely true. When I pick him up and ask him how his day went, he reports: "I played, and I cried." When I ask him why he cried, he says, "Because I didn't want to sleep. Sleeping isn't fun." He is not a big fan of institutional nap-time. But he loves "school" and is happy to go every morning, which is a blessing. 

Another massive change has happened simultaneously: Jorge has flown off to the far, autumnal reaches of Scandinavia to work for at least a couple of months. It's the first time he's ever been gone for so long, and it's a significant transition. He's sad. I'm sad. The kids are sad. The distance irritates me, and I have to work to keep the big picture in mind. He left last Wednesday and fortunately we've been able to speak each day which has provided some peace of mind (and heart). 

On pages 27-28 of the Halloween Oracle book, Demarco writes: "Do not be afraid if you pull the Death card as it simply means that something is falling away, or will do so, so you can begin strongly afresh. There is great power in this clearing." 

This is true, and I feel it in my bones and in the depths of my soul. Despite the big changes moving through my life at present, I am keenly aware that ultimately these changes are occurring for an important reason, and that these fluctuations are just as they should be. I'm grateful for them, in fact, in the way that sore muscles after a powerful workout kind of feel good in a way; the achy newness of a moth unfolding its wings. 

"Death" Isn't Just a New Beginning

I've read several times recently (and it comes up quite a lot) that Death is nothing to be scared of, it simply means a new beginning, and isn't that wonderful?

I think this happens because of the over-vilification of Death in the past, especially on television shows or in the movies, where the card was played up as a symbol of impending doom, and usually physical death. There are many readers that want to make the card more friendly by now playing up the "new chapter" of life that is a natural result of big change, but I think that mindset, while understandable, robs the work that Death does, detracts from the importance of its process in our lives.

Pamela Colman Smith Commemorative Deck
U.S. Games

Because Death is a process. It's not called the "New Beginning" card because before something new (regardless of how wonderful it is) can begin, something else has to end. And with endings comes mourning, struggle, fear, and loss. And those are challenging emotions to experience, but there is great catharsis in allowing that grief to unfold. Anyone who has experienced the energy of the Death card understands that there is far more to it than a nice new start (even though if we have any awareness of what that new phase might be, it may serve as a nice focal point for us while we're in the trenches). It's work! It's sad, and it hurts, and at the same time there is a touching beauty to it because it's a sacred aspect of the experience of being alive, and of growth.

Thoth Tarot - A. Crowley, F. Harris
U.S. Games

I hope that all readers honor that sacred space if Death should appear in a reading. Rather than rushing to the "happy ending," place value on the journey involved.  It's true that having to convey difficult messages is a skill readers must work on (and one that takes time to develop) and sometimes it's easier to play up the sunny part - the new start - but it's really an art worth honing so that the full and powerful message that Death symbolizes isn't lost in translation.

World Spirit Tarot - L. O'Leary, J. Godino
Llewellyn Publishing

I read a wonderful quote today that quite honestly made me cry, and it's the truest definition of the Death card (and some many recognize the Tower here as well) that I've ever read, and I want to share it with you:

“Whatever can be threatened, whatever can be shaken, whatever you fear cannot stand, is destined to crash. Do not go down with the ship. Let that which is destined to become the past slip away. Believe that the real you is that which beckons from the future. If it is a sadder you, it will be a wiser one. And dawn will follow the darkness sooner or later. Rebirth can never come without death.” 
― Robert M. Price

Crow's Easter Message

Today's Easter, an overcast, cool morning. The kids are slightly hung-over on a dawn feast of far too much candy, and I'm on my second cup of coffee. Later this afternoon we'll have an egg hunt, with the little ones wading through purple wildflowers in the back yard in search of one of their magical, painted masterpieces created the day before in anticipation of this annual event.

I participated in the Ostara blog hop several weeks ago which focused on rebirth as a theme. This year Ostara and Easter, due to the transient lunar calendar, fall at some distance from each other, so once again I find myself considering death, resurrection, and the ever-spiraling cycle of life. These are universal truths that accompany us always. We tend to think of them in terms of major life events - death, divorce, house moves, births of children, leaving an old job for a new career or educational path, major work transfers that include an overseas relocation, and on and on and on.

In truth, death and rebirth are constants, and on a minute scale we are always experiencing them….when you learn something new about an important person in your life, when you mull something over and make a decision, when your plans change and you adjust to your new course, when new information or a sudden whim cause you to change your mind about an idea, belief or behavior - shifts in perspective. In these smaller contexts death takes the form of transition, the change inherent in life, the momentum that keeps our universe in flux. Without movement things stagnate - we thrive on change, even if it's hard to embrace at times - this is requisite for growth.

Today, in honor of change, transition, death and rebirth, I pulled a card from my Medicine Cards, asking for insights into what new era is unfurling for me now. I know that change is happening in my life, in some ways both big and small. I feel it trembling around me, the earthly manifestation of the 2 of Disks. The card I pulled was Crow.

Medicine Cards - J. Sams, D. Carson

The first thought I had when I turned the card over was: change. Right on cue! On page 134 of the book, it says, "Crow is an omen of change. Crow lives in the void and has no sense of time. The Ancient Chiefs tell us that Crow sees simultaneously the three fates - past, present and future. Crow merges light and darkness, seeing both inner and outer reality."

It goes on to say, on page 135: "Be willing to walk your talk, speak your truth, know your life's mission, and balance past, present, and future in the now. Shape shift that old reality and become your future self. Allow the bending of physical laws to aid in creating the shape shifted world of peace."

Sigh. It's a profound energy, so vital and pertinent to this moment, and yet not without some degree of pain - like all change. The Crow on the card peers at its own reflection, looking deeply within, facing truth with honesty, embracing - and really embodying - sacred Death.

As I move through my Easter Sunday, I'll hold these thoughts within me, pondering, processing, and reflecting on how Death, transition and truth are impacting me at this moment - somehow a perfect match to the energies being cradled and nurtured and honored across the globe on this holy-day.

Death and the Devil

It seems like most people have one or two (or more) cards that they absolutely must love in a deck in order to consider purchasing it.  I have mine: Death and the Devil.  These are not my favorite cards in Tarot, however they are the cards which I feel are both important and often misunderstood or misrepresented.  So I feel picky about the way they are shown, and hence the potential impact they have on the person being read!

In many decks, Death is portrayed as a skeleton, or a hooded figure on a horse, with a scythe.  I really hate that interpretation of Death.  To me, Death is a beautiful card.  It's about change, about seeing the beauty in shedding the old and embracing the new.  It's about life, really, and renewal.  When I bought the Golden Tarot (Liz Dean), my first deck, I wasn't thinking about these things, but I'm happy with the representation of Death in that deck.  Death is a women in a cloak, holding a rose bloom in one hand, and a rosebud in the other.  She's at the edge of a wood, and in the distance you see a sun setting.  The emphasis centers on the idea of new beginnings, so it has a stronger essence of hope, and isn't negative.  I can't wait until my DruidCraft Tarot cards come (Philip and Stephanie Carr-Gomm) because aside from how much I love the images in general, the Death card features a robed woman (in this case, elderly) standing at a boiling cauldron holding a skull.  Out the window you see a sunset/sunrise in the distance.  It's beautiful, and also draws you (me) into the mystery involved in major life changes. I love it!

The Golden Tarot by Liz Dean

DruidCraft Tarot

The Devil card is often portrayed with a very evil looking figure, like the traditional, Christian "Satan." It's usually a rather scary looking card, but I feel like it's unnecessary to portray the Devil in a way that could potentially scare the crap out of querents.  So in the Golden Tarot the Devil really looks like Pan - not evil or scary.  (It resembles the Rider-Waite deck's Devil, but that one is a bit frightening in comparison).  He sits above a man and woman in bondage.  I appreciate that the card is able to represent the essence of the Devil without being frightening.  In the DruidCraft deck there is no true devil... it's Cernunnos, the Horned God, standing rather threateningly in the forest behind a pair of exhausted lovers, asleep.  The focus is not on "sin" or "evil," rather the concept of the natural aspects/desires/motivations of our beings as humans, and the unhealthy behaviors that can result when those aspects are not in balance.  So it represents the important meanings illuminated by this card, but through a new lens, and with a new name.  Cernunnos does look really intimidating - he's shadowed, large, one eye aglow, almost beastly, really.  But not evil - more wild than anything.

DruidCraft Tarot

Now, I have gone against my own preferences and ordered the Morgan Greer Tarot because I absolutely love the rich, colorful artwork - but the Death/Devil cards are pretty traditional, and not really my cup o' tea.  But I'm okay with that in this instance, because the artwork is so colorful and inspiring, yet not overdone (in other words, there isn't so much going on in each card that it takes time to sort out all of the details/symbols).  I feel it would/will be a wonderful pack to read with, and while the feel is different than Rider-Waite, the symbols are very Rider-Waiteish which I'm comfortable with.  And, on the up side, while the Death card does have the skeleton/hood/scythe, the card also features a large rose, so it's a nice contrast.

What are your deal-breaker cards?