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.

A New Moon Reading

Alaina, from Exploringly Yours, has once again crafted a lovely spread for use at the New Moon, which just so happened to have occurred yesterday. I enjoy these readings and find that they provide interesting insights into my current state of being - this one was no exception.

My reading layout was as follows:

1) What is my wild side saying to me this New Moon? 4 of Swords
2) What must I release to honor my highest self? 2 of Wands
3) What must I embrace to honor my highest self? Hanged Man
4) What can I contribute to the collective at this time? Page of Swords

Pagan Otherworlds Tarot

The first three cards mirror a message I've been hearing lately in some other small self-readings (in fact the 4 of Swords was yesterday's card of the day): pause, peace, and reflection are the requirements of this moment. It is not a time for action just yet, and even if I'm raring to leave the starting gates, it's better to have a course in mind first. I have only vague shadows of thought around what this is referring to, which means that I will certainly benefit from some mindful quiet time.

I love this Page of Swords. How can I contribute to the collective? The Page asks questions, seeks truth, and doesn't let uncomfortable lines of inquiry prevent the exploration of ideas that need to be considered. I've been asking a lot of questions lately, especially in my January blog posts. Most connect to how we can progress as a nation in light of the current political climate. Here is a recap:

• How are we supposed to move forward as a nation if we can't find a way to overcome the divisiveness?
• If facts don't seem to matter, then what does?
• How can we establish meaningful dialogue? 
• What happens if we never manage to see eye-to-eye, or learn to hold rich, fruitful, meaningful, and considerate discussions about our points of disagreement?
• How can we combat ignorance? 
• How can we protect the environment, and human rights, and healthcare, in the face of this new administration?
• What can I do? 
• How can I help?

Answers aren't always clear, simple, or readily apparent; the important thing is to keep the conversation going.

Doing the Hard Thing

I was hungering for a deck, and nothing was right. I searched at shops, I scanned through the pages of online sellers, I looked at the newest upcoming indie decks. Nope. Nothing. Through a somewhat incidental (is anything ever really incidental?) conversation I learned about the "dat Black Mermaid Man Lady" oracle deck created from the heart and soul of Sharon Bridgforth, and I knew that was "it" - I purchased it before I even really knew very much about it, and was pleased to come home to it waiting for me in the mailbox this afternoon.

I sat down with it and decided that for the inaugural reading I would ask: "What message do I need to hear in this moment?" I shuffled, and cut, and I drew one of the four "Dreamer" cards which represent the self, or soul of the reader. 

Then I turned it over to read the wisdom, consisting of a keyword and an excerpt from the "dat Black Mermaid Man Lady" production. It was: Deep Emotions.

Gah. Yep. I was feeling a lot of things at that moment. In fact, I'd had a pretty decent day until I received a series of emails in the early afternoon regarding a few (more) difficult meetings that I will be mediating next week. My heart immediately sunk deep down into my gut and made a nice little nest there. Why this reaction? I mediate well. The meetings won't necessarily be anything out of the ordinary for their type. Why was I feeling so...blue....about it? 

I decided to ask the Tarot of the Cat People to help me identify the source of these deep emotions. I pulled two cards - the Ace of Swords, and the Hanged Man.

The Ace of Swords, the truth. Fairness and clear speech. This man is ready for battle, though his face is calm. The truth hurts. I'm not afraid to speak it. I use my words well. Like this warrior I'm not afraid to meet conflict when necessary. In mediation it's quite interesting to listen to the parties speak, to parse out the grains of truth, the utterances, the perceptions, the thoughts that illuminate the heart of the matter; they are little swords of their own that help me to cut away the excess fibers and fog that build up around and between two people when they are at odds and don't know how to communicate their experiences to each other. 

Why would this make me sad, why would it evoke such a deep emotional response within me?

I thought... the truth does hurt. Just because I am not afraid of it doesn't mean that the edges aren't sharp. I am empathic by nature, absorbing the hurts and joys alike of others. I believe that this is, in part, what makes me effective in mediation, but as able as I am to help others navigate the hazy straits of conflict when called to my duty, it has an impact on me. I have always been a peacemaker, I have always supported harmony. Conflict has always been difficult for me to process and integrate. I like to be alone, in fact, as a general rule (not counting my family, of course). And here I am in a position that requires so much communication, that stretches my diplomatic nature to its limits at times, that pulls and pushes on my desires to be free of all of these ties that come with this responsibility that I have: to navigate a group, a department full of unique souls, through waves that can be choppy at times - that can threaten to toss some people overboard every once in a while. I mediate as part of my work, and while it can be extremely rewarding, it can also, if I'm truthful, be really hard sometimes. 

So, today it is hard. Today, I'm not in the mood - I want to push it away, off my plate, I want to fast-forward to September. I want it to be over already. Yes, I will have to do this thing that I'd rather not do, but I owe it to myself to at least acknowledge that it feels uncomfortable today. 

The Hanged Man is Odin singing in my ear that there is no sacrifice without wisdom on the other end; that pain is instructive; in fact, sometimes it's the only way. What challenges us makes us stronger, opens the way for personal growth to blossom forth (particularly when accompanied by a healthy dose of self-reflection). There is ultimately great good in doing the hard thing (and in remembering to take care of ourselves in the process).

Interviewing the Steampunk Tarot

Last night I acquired the Steampunk Tarot by authors John and Caitlín Matthews and artist Wil Kinghan. Steampunk as a genre has never held much interest for me, but I appreciate the depth of thought and wisdom that the Matthews bring to their work, so this particular deck has always drawn my attention when I've seen it sitting on the bookstore shelf. I just never felt that $20 was worth the price of a deck I was only slightly interested in.

Then last week I took my oldest daughter out on "date" (I try to give each of the three of my kids some one-on-one time now and again) and I saw that a single, final copy of the Steampunk Tarot was in the bookstore's clearance bin at 50% off. I snatched it up. But ultimately I thought, "Do I really need this deck? I have several others I'm exploring at the moment..." and I decided to put it back.

Last night I took my younger daughter out on our own "date" and she wanted to go to the bookstore, too. On a whim I thought I'd see if the deck was still there, though I doubted it would be after so many days, and at such a low price. Nevertheless, there it was. This time I decided to take it home with me.

The art seems to be a mixture of photographic collage and artwork, but the overall look is unified and interesting. This post is not a proper review so I won't go into all of the details here, but I will discuss a short interview I did with these cards, in light of the previous interview with the Cosmos Tarot having gone rather well ;-)

1) What is the strength of the Steampunk Tarot? 8 of Submersibles (Cups)
This deck will be a great tool for plumbing the depths of my psyche, my deepest longings, for uncovering the areas of my life in need of release and refreshment. In this image a submarine soars deep into the mysterious reaches of the ocean, but rather than finding itself surrounded by darkness, it approaches the bright light of illumination; a precious discovery awaits.

2) What can it teach me? Navigator of Engines (Knight of Wands)
The Navigator of Engines is a spiritual traveler, always on the move. He indicates that this is a great deck for exploration and journeying, for identifying my spark of life and finding ways to embody it. This card appeared inverted, which indicates subtlety and inner workings. But it also brought to mind a concept I recently learned about: in Kung Fu, "patience" and "mastery" are represented by the symbol of fire, reversed. The key is not to dim the fire, but to control it; to know when to unleash it and when to contain it. In this light it carries a resemblance to Strength. I like the idea that this card might refer to a deeper understanding and embodiment of personal power and responsibility.

3) How can I best approach working with it? XII. Suspension Tank (Hanged Man)
In order to get the most out of this deck it will help to suspend judgment, and open myself to its offerings. As I said before, the steampunk genre has little interest for me, but I do find that the decks that I love working with the most are those that challenge me the most. Therefore the imagery here may provide new angles and perspectives from which to understand myself, my environment, and my interactions with others. In this image a figure hangs suspended upside down in a tank with two others observing. A beam of light moves through the suspended person, through each major energy center of the body. By sacrificing the ego, profound insights may be discovered.

I'm glad I finally own this intriguing set of cards; here's to a new journey!

(Re)Building Your Holy House with the Ancestors

"The ancestors are the real school of the living. They are the keepers of the very wisdom the people need to live by. The life energy of ancestors who have not yet been reborn is expressed in the life of nature, in trees, mountains, rivers and still water." -M. Somé

In Santería, being open to, working with, revering, the ancestors is a critical foundation of practice. The impact that previous generations of family have had on our lives – in both conscious and unconscious ways – and the influence of the family oversoul require us to be willing to delve into our personal and ancestral histories, facing both the good and the difficult. The process of working with ancestral spirits serves the purpose of helping us to address and purge the negative, to understand the humanity of our forebears, and to embrace the wisdom and sacred blessings that they offer us. Ancestor work can have wonderful benefits for everyone, regardless of the spiritual/religious path that is followed, and helps root our Selves to the earth, to connect us with a deep history that is part of who we are, whether we are aware of it or not. There is something sacred in that.

The other night I decided to pull a couple of cards on the topic of ancestor work:

1) In what way are my ancestors present for me? 3 of Pentacles

Prisma Visions/James Eads

These are the raw notes that I took about how this card made me feel:

Working with me to help build the foundation, base structure, of my life. Supporting me, giving advice/suggestions, then stepping back and watching how I implement them. My own personal team. Helping me find tools to work for what I want and need. Helping me to build my holy house.

That last line took me some time to actually get down on paper. It was floating through my head, and I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but I decided that I’d figure it out eventually, so I jotted it down.

Helping me to build my holy house.

A night or two later I was reading a book* and came across a section that compared the personal impact of Orisha worship to restoring an old home:

“As you watch those old walls come down, envision your inner walls being knocked away. Close your eyes and feel the two-by-fours cracking apart within you. Watch as dirty windowpanes shatter – windows through which you might have once viewed the world clearly…Watch as workers toil, removing the house’s battered and broken parts, in order to restore its strength and beauty…Feel their jubilation along with their calluses and aching backs as they see it slowly rise before them, restored, reborn (pp. 128-29; Correal, 2003).”

As I read those words, the 3 of Pentacles with the image of the man laying bricks suddenly popped into my mind. My “holy house” is me. In this light, my ancestors work with me like the toiling workers renovating that old home, helping me to open up, break down, and rebuild into a stronger, healthier, happier, more balanced human being. That is what it’s all about.

2) How can I best take advantage of their wisdom and guidance? Hanged Man

Prisma Visions/James Eads

Again, my rough notes are as follows:

Releasing a hold on/sacrificing the ego; making time in my schedule to talk to them. Be willing to allow time for life to develop – not being quick to judge. Letting go of control and trusting them. Open up to insight. 

There is a lot to be said for learning to surrender; to get out of your head, to view your experiences from new vantage points. It has become almost cliché to say, in regards to the Hanged Man, that one must be open to “seeing things from a new perspective.” The reality is that it’s true. When you climb a tree, your entire back yard transforms; you see things you never did, or never could, before. I remember riding a Ferris wheel at a community festival down the street from our house a couple of years back. Once we reached the ride’s apex we could see lakes that we never knew were there, and even the tips of the downtown buildings were visible, driving home the proximity of important places in our environment. But those instances are exterior; we literally see things from a new perspective because our physical bodies are lifted into the sky, or hung upside down. It’s more work to be open to new angles of thought from the inside. But the analogy is potent and clear.

It’s amazing just how driven we are to do what we want to do, or not do what we aren’t in the mood to do. In a way, like with Lent, there is a certain sacrifice in not giving in to our impulses, though in another way it is also about fundamental self-control, focus; our commitment to a practice lies to some degree in the ability to remember our truest, deepest desires, our most heart-centered goals.

I say all of that because in our great rush, and our daily distractions, it’s easy to simply not take the time to sit at the ancestor altar and talk to them. Or just breathe for a few moments. To take a few seconds to call to mind your grandfather, or the name of your great-grandmother, or those nameless forebears that stream back into infinity whose essence you hold in your very cellular make-up. To hold them – even just the awareness of their existence - in your heart and mind briefly, and open yourself to their presence. So then, we sacrifice – “make sacred” – our offering of time, laying our ego out on the table because we know that in some way the benefits and blessings of that surrender might someday, stone by stone, make us whole again.

Prisma Visions/James Eads

*Finding Soul on the Path of Orisa/Crossing Press/T.M. Correal

XII: Sacrifice

This morning as I sat on my older daughter's bed, waiting for my younger daughter to slowly wake up, I laid out the Goddess Tarot deck that was sitting on their bedside table and pulled a card of the day. It was XII Sacrifice: Kuan Yin.

Pocket Goddess Tarot
U.S. Games Systems

I had just a few minutes before been chatting with my husband about the kids' upcoming vacation with their grandparents, so that was on my mind. And the card (traditionally called the "Hanged Man") featured a particularly poignant image, as Kuan Yin floats through the sky holding a child. Letting my kids go for such a long vacation time does feel like a sacrifice. But the sky in this picture speaks to me. Kuan Yin is carrying a child away from the moonlit night and into the beautiful pastel glow of a sunny day. I've been talking a lot lately (to both my husband and to my children) about anticipation being worse than reality. The unknown (the moon, the dark sky) can be scary and cause feelings of apprehension. But the sunlit sky shows that everything is going to be okay. Yes, this is a sacrifice of sorts, but there is so much joy to be had, too. The sacrifice is not in vain, and it's only temporary. What new insights will I uncover by letting go? This has been a theme for me lately: relinquishing control, going with the flow. And Kuan Yin encourages me to let go, as well, and to remember that there is a lot of good in this arrangement, and if I am willing to shift my focus from the moon to the sun, I'll find healing comfort there.

As I examined the card I noticed that the inner border is filled with pink water lilies, which is a flower associated with Kuan Yin. Just yesterday I attended my younger daughter's 2nd grade graduation, and she gave me a late Mother's Day gift after the ceremony: a pink water lily that she had made out of clay in art class! These synchronicities are like gentle nudges from the universe. Water lilies symbolize death and rebirth, transition and transformation. In the context of the Hanged Man, it suggests the need to retire one perspective so that a new paradigm can be born. If I release my hold on one way of thinking, or at least open myself to the Great Mystery (death/night), I allow space for new wisdom to blossom (rebirth/day). <3

Lourdes' water lily

30-Day Tarot Challenge - Questions 16, 17, 18

16) Do you ever use the Major Arcana without the Minor Arcana, or vice versa?

No.  In fact once I was having trouble understanding a querent's question because it was extremely disorganized and "all over the place."  So I was trying to pick out the main elements as seemed appropriate.  Another reader suggested that I might separate the deck into Major/Minor Arcana and use only the Majors to pick a single card that might give the lady some insights.  I decided to take the advice, but I decided not to separate the deck. I figured that if this lady needed a Major card, it would appear... and it did!  I ended up with the Hanged Man, and it worked really well for the client.  That experience just helped confirm for me that the cards will tell you what you need to know, so separating them is not really necessary.  

Morgan Greer Tarot

17) Do you do readings using reversals? Why or why not?

Hah!  When I first started with Tarot, I didn't.  But I was also reading for myself and other people I knew really well.  When I started reading for strangers I realized immediately that the fine shades of meaning available with reversals would be extremely useful in giving detailed readings...especially readings via email.  At first I was a bit nervous, but now I really like using them.  



18) Do you feel a "connection" to your cards?

Yes, I do!  I actually feel like they're sort of friends :)  I feel a great connection to all of my decks, though the images in the Golden Tarot (Liz Dean) don't really pull me in.  But I still feel like they "speak" to me, in their own way.  

Moving On....

My daily draw this morning was the 6 of Swords.  *sigh*  Yes, this is fitting - good advice for my day.  I'm still struggling with a problem I'd been having with one of my students, which, while having been resolved yesterday, still is having an impact on me.  I feel a little sad, but the advice from today's card is: "move on."  The issue has reached a conclusion, and there are other things at work that need my attention and focus.  Also, it's not the end of the world!  When I think of the rational pieces of the problem, I am satisfied with the results, however when I start focusing on other things I notice a "bluesy" feeling (also represented by the 6 of Swords) which is left over from the recent event here at work.  Of course, being great advice does not mean it's easy to follow!  But having the acknowledgement of my state of mind and being, and having that little push to let it go and change my frame of mind, is at least something I can meditate on today.

Actually it follows the card(s) from yesterday very well -

                                             Hanged Man and 4 of Swords => 6 of Swords

Numerically and meaning-wise, it's a very fitting progression.

Oh, and my shuffling method this morning - I thought I would mention it, since I haven't settled yet on just one, reliable one......

I pull/push shuffled twice, and then cut the deck into 3 (right to left) and re-stacked it (right to left). :-)

Moving on! Image from Creative Commons

Am I Shuffling Right???

Okay, so this issue of shuffling..... like all things in Tarot, shuffling seems to be related to personal style (thus, many people will approach this differently).  When I started working with cards when I was 13 this was not a complicated issue; I shuffled the cards while thinking about my question, fanned them out on the bed/couch/etc., and selected cards.  Since starting Tarot (many years later!) things have become a lot more complicated!  Some people shuffle and fan; some people shuffle, cut, and fan; some people shuffle, cut, and select - no fanning; some people shuffle and select, no fanning or cutting.  Which is the right way?? Which is the most effective method?? What if I'm not doing it right?????  I've read online that it doesn't matter, and there's no need to over-think the process.  While I agree with that, when you're inundated with different methods it can be hard to assimilate.

Well,  I had an experience this morning that seemed to drive home the fact that however you shuffle really doesn't matter - you'll find something useful and pertinent in the card(s) that will be relevant and hold meaning for you.  Here's my short story:

I've been trying to pull a single card each morning to give me an idea of the energy ahead of me that day, or for advice on the best way to deal with whatever comes my way.  Today I was shuffling, and experiencing a mild how-will-I-shuffle-today attack (I've been trying out different methods to see if something feels more "right" to me).  I decided that since I was short on time, I was just going to shuffle once (I have large cards so I use the push-pull method which can actually be counted in terms of quantity of times the deck is shuffled), and I was not going to cut the deck.  After I finished the first round of shuffling I felt like I needed to shuffle again, so I did.  At that point I decided to cut the deck after all.  But "just to see" what I would have gotten were I not to cut the deck, I peeked at the first card on the top of the deck, which was a 4 of Swords.  I replaced it, cut the deck into three, re-stacked it, then selected the top card - The Hanged Man.

Rider-Waite-Smith Tarot

What I knew about the day ahead of me was that I'd be conducting an interview at 10am.  This was going to be a secondary interview, the first having been given by my supervisor.  After a string of interviews, my colleagues and I came to realize that while my supervisor feels it's important to receive our feedback on potential candidates, ultimately the decision is hers, and ultimately she may not always agree with our perspectives.  Second, I was going to have a meeting at 11am with a student of mine and his advisor to discuss a serious issue of plagiarizing.  While I felt like the meeting had to happen, I also felt concerned about the outcome - would the student get suspended? Would he be docked a lot of points?  Would he be given the chance to redo the assignment?  I had some degree of turmoil regarding the whole issue.

Now, the Hanged Man was truly a great card.  When I saw it, my first thought was "let it go, it's not in your hands."  This was clear advice, as in both situations mentioned above I could not really have a significant influence on the outcome.  While I was involved in both situations, I had no deciding power, and I needed to come to terms with that, and then let it go. (Later the thought of this card made me laugh as my colleague and I were waiting to meet with my supervisor to give her feedback from the interview, and we literally were left hanging until the moment she decided she had enough time to see us - we almost missed lunch!)

But on my drive to work I thought back on the first card I peeked at - the 4 of swords - and I realized that it was appropriate to my situation in its own way.  The 4 of Swords refers to a time of rest following a difficult time; pausing to reflect on what's come before, and where you're headed; gaining new perspectives on events in your life.  Had I decided to pick this card, it would have served me well.  It encouraged me, in its own way, to let things go, like the Hanged Man, by encouraging me to take time to think about what had transpired, and gain a better perspective on the situation.  Its advice is to find peace by coming to terms with what is.  So both cards were appropriate and meaningful in similar ways to the situations before me.

What I took away from this experience was the realization that it really doesn't matter how you shuffle.  The cards you select will give you the insights that you need, no matter what combination or style you use.