Tuesday Tarot -Majors 12, 13, & 14

The Minoan Tarot images lure me from the everyday. Even in the currently busy and hectic days, I want to sit down and stare at them. I suspect this is because they contain potent “headology”.  My favorite witch is not one of the classics like vengeful Medea or the pig-making Circe.  My favorite witch is Diskworld’s Granny Weatherwax who says it isn’t about spells and sticking pins in things — it’s about “headology.”  To me, this speaks a real truth about magic and enchantment — the one we usually must enchant is ourself!  Or sometimes the need is to disenchant someone.  I think the images of the Minoan Tarot have the deeply woven clues and hints to do both!

I am pretty sure Major Arcana card #12 – Sacrifice – will upset somebody with the somewhat graphic image of an animal awaiting getting its throat cut.  The card usually called The Hanged Man seemed more upsetting to me because although it had connotations of making sacrifices for future good as well; it also had meanings related to betrayal and treachery – and of being left, somewhat literally “twisting in the wind.”  This card, like most of the ‘big 22’ is more existential with the phrase “I surrender” and the Linear B for “olive tree” – long a symbol of peaceful endings.  This card hits me hard personally; there are things I need to surrender right NOW, for instance.  There ARE patterns in my life that need to dissolve.  Reversed, it suggests that refusing to sacrifice what needs to be offered up for the future results in losing control of it all.

#13 – Death – is likewise unsubtle.  An open tomb instead of a skeletal figure, with the phrase “I transform” assigned, and Linear B for “divine” suggests that our deepest fears and the change we really cannot see the other side of are right there in the NOW where we must grasp till tiller of our lives (and very rarely, our actual physical demise).  Perry insists this card does NOT mean physical death.  I beg to differ with her; while it usually means the death of something, not us – that doesn’t mean it cannot.  Reversal indicates refusing transformation, holding on to something in need of release and increasing personal pain.  Drop the hot rock, Pal, and move on!

#14 – Balance – is a card I much prefer to the usual deck!   “Temperance” always had a bit of a preachy vibe to one raised on stories of Carrie Nation bashing in barrels of whisky or beer!  Besides, who could resist that lovely young man vaulting that beautiful bull — nobody dies, everything is handled!  It IS about balance and focus to achieve and maintain towards a goal; avoiding extremes IS key.  Reversed. the card warns against over focus on only one area – over specialization, perhaps?  Or being all take and no give?

And In The Never Bloody Mind Dept…

Ok, the blog is again public. Really, the readership was never high. I am not interesting enough, inspiring enough…and I am sick of narrowing it even more in the hopes of deeper conversations and meaningful connections.  Those clearly were never meant to be part of the online experience.

Perhaps not profane enough? Since this was my blog of the “deeper” me. The more “introspective me”? The less ranting and screaming me.  Apparently all anyone ever liked WAS my rants and screaming, swearing and flailing.

So be it.  This is still who I am when not going mad over the latest news splashes of mud and worse.

Nobody conversed in private any more (or less) than in public.  So fear of reprisals or harassment from Trumpeteers or radical Christian sorts apparently was not it.  I am merely too boring, too much a hermit, lacking flash or charm.

I am actually pretty good with all of that.  I may or may not post my continued efforts in the Magical Battle of America.  I’m not really the ‘ra ra, sis boom bah’ sort –I find as many things to be a grim realistic kick in the face as not in magical matters.  Thus, I still do mundane activist things.  Those are doubtless boring, too.  Meetings, phone calls, petitions, more phone calls, letters, contributions.  Boring grown up stuff.  I could rename the blog perhaps: Boring Grown Up Pagan Humanist Blog?  Honestly, I crack myself up.

 

Another Sunday After Action….

This weeks goal in the Magical Battle of America was to go to the astral center — seeing it as night-time — and more of less call a dawning. A dawning of sunny warmth, hope, cooperation, and recreation of America.  Glad Hekate is my ally with some lit torches is all I can say about that.

My first start was to pause at NW “home” to briefly consider leaping steelhead, heading upstream to breed and continue the thread of their lives.  Salmon spawn and die. We want magic and life, bread and roses, don’t we?  Then, I turned to “walk” to the Plains “center” as HecateDemeter envisions it — with a pentagram overhead and banners at each point connoting the different main regions of the continental USA.

I didn’t walk, though.  I turned and suddenly shot to center like an animated piece on a special effects chessboard…leaving a colored, fading shadow of myself where I had been mere instants before.  The blue-white horizontal pentagram over head dripped down lighted spangles like luminescent icicles.

I sat down on the roof of my sod house, shut my eyes and listened to the wind in the five banners; for me yellow at Nor’East, green at Southeast, red at Southwest, blue in Nor’west, and dazzling WHITE in the North – no black, no checkering, it felt white this time.  I sat waiting to feel a touch of dawning warmth.  Cracking an eyelid showed me only cascades falling from the five pointed star overhead — like sparks from a welder’s torch.  I could not glimpse or summon a dawning.

So I shut my eyes and thought, very hard, over and over:

Wouldn’t it feel good again to be truly, really proud to be an American?”

“Wouldn’t it feel good to wipe away the shame?”

“Wouldn’t love and caring and sharing feel delightful and warm and good?”

I felt a sudden sexual rush, a bit of warmth of unexpected source.  But one I know means something right is happening.  Maybe later efforts this week will see a dawn yet?

 

A Bit of Bitchery, Not Witchery

Ok, since I thought perhaps shyness, fear, trepidation was the reason for so little conversation, I made this blog private by invitation only.

Still no conversation. So hey, be honest — if nobody but my grouchy old self is going to talk, just say so and it will be public again faster than the small stupid dog wolves down his food.

Because I frankly don’t give a damn, nor a rats ass, whether anyone dislikes what I am saying!

Pick-a-Witch?!

I know there are other spell workers out there — I know about the “binding” spell and frankly, IF it works that is dandy with me. I’m just iffy about bindings if I am not more personally linked with the situation.  If anyone conceives the Magical Battle of America as more effective done BY binding the “deflated orange sponge” – so be it!

But I did find these “inspirations” very humorous!  Enjoy!

I was always tickled by the MacBeth witches — every time we brew mead here, they come to mind.  All that “cauldron brew and cauldron bubble” stuff, you know?  A carboy full of mead is full of roiling wee yeasty beasty bubbles — you can hear their pop and fizz!  I have been contemplating starting a batch with the command that these tiny living things, with each pop and fizzle – move a magical agenda forward; a sort of alcoholic prayer wheel effect, so to speak?!

Tomorrow there will be a new post up at HecateDemeter for the continued effort.  I am feeling an increased “vibe” so to speak; the working feels easier with repetition.  Since I am not the most “visually” inclined person, most of my cues to being “there” are still auditory — wind whipping “banners” (which for me are element shaded, with no pictures), splash sounds, human whispers, etc.

How is it for you?  I must say, as a solitary sort, I don’t much know how it goes in a coven.  But I’m pretty sure it isn’t as silent as this “virtual room”!

Tuesday Tarot, Better Late Than Never Edition

My life is scarcely my own…so I am very late getting to this today.  The Minoan Tarot by Laura Perry continues with major cards 9, 10, and 11!

I admit, Major Arcana #9 delights me out of all proportion!  Instead of the Hermit – a card I get quite often in my layouts – I have The Labyrinth!  It seems very appropriate to me, since I am a sort of hermit and do maintain a labyrinth.  The operative phrase here is “I turn inward.”  The Linear B is merely the word for labyrinth.  It is the card about introspection and deep answer seeking.  Reversed, it suggests one is withdrawing to hide, rather than to seek!

#10 Fate, instead of the more usual “Fortune” has the phrase “I move forward” assigned and the Linear B for “spinners”.  While the card still speaks of outer/cosmic forces  and luck/destiny – is reminds me a bit more of the concept of “wyrd”.  You must go through the thing at hand, but you very much decide how to do so.  You have to power to spin your own fate, in other words!  Reversal would speak of being stuck in a rut, frozen, and spinning wheels rather than your fate.

#11 the Strength card in this deck, also impresses with vivid image!  The operative phrase is “I will” and the Linear B inscription means “powerful” — this card reminds you that endurance, and resolved offer the means to succeed by control and master — of the self, first of all.  A reversal of this card portends picking non-existent battles externally when a lack of self-discipline is the real problem.  (Again, yes, that definition brings current events to mind!)

I need to find some quiet to read again — life is super hectic, complete with injuries and aches.

More Contrarian Tradition – Or, OMG Is She Into Plato?

I duteously performed the Magical Battle of America task on Saturday evening. I relaxed my aching back into my husband’s comfy chair FOR aching backs, put a warm throw over myself to stay warm. Pretty soft “duty” you might say.

I visualized myself ‘neath the glowing pentacle, saw the colored elemental banners and strode forcefully to the blue one in my home grounds in the Pacific Nor’west.  I stood stream-side and watched the salmon leaping.  There are no grizzly bears fishing on my stream.  Hecate-Demeter likely cannot know this, basing her visualization on nature documentaries; but we have damned few grizzly bears here and the dozen or fewer are up in the mountains.  I took the dogged persistence of the biology-driven fish back to the labyrinth overlay.  Yes, I certainly would like to see that in American political life to fight.

But IS this magical bit getting it there?  After all, the fish are NOT migrating upstream all the time.  And while the salmon runs are iconic?  Salmon DIE after their upstream battle.  I’d prefer to think upon steelhead – which do NOT die, but survive for multiple runs upriver!   If one visualizes something that is not actually in motion at the time, one visualizes only an idea, or a memory.  IS this like Plato’s idea of a copy of the ideal “form” – a shadow, so to speak of Kant’s “thing in itself”?  A memory can be quite strong, but only an idea of what one likely has never seen at all?   So this rite, ideally would be most effective  – or only effective? – WHEN the fish are running?  What about a visualization focusing on what IS actually enlivening IN that moment of magical action.  Is that not more practical?

I know: snipe, snipe, snipe.  It is what I do because accuracy and effect matter deeply to me.  Today, as some point, I will go out into my gardens to feed my circle of stones; it is the Equinox.  Doubtless on that small walk, I will gather potent small signs of indomitability to use in my next workings this week.  Fern fronds breaking out in fiddleheads.  Tiny blue-violet wind flowers trembling on the breeze.  The breeding Anna’s hummingbirds in a nigh flowerless environment – sounding off at my windows, demanding fresh sugar syrup, interacting with ME to preserve their own species!  They sit beneath the warming light in the dawn – persisting nevertheless!

I cannot believe, even when Dion Fortune launched a magical effort to protect blitzed England, that each adept – or each novice for that matter – did not have to individualize and adapt the images to what gave them the strongest response and ability to shape that “invisible” that we experimentally reach for in each working.

Am I the only one thus contrary?  Or is this so obvious that I am the only one just NOW thinking about it, since as a usual solitary, I’ve never before worried about how to work in groups?  Or IS it really a group with such disparate natures and locations?  Is it a thousand magical archers shooting at an invisible target over the horizon, with each one using a different means of spotting the bulls-eye?

 

Today’s Task

In the Magical Battle of America today, we are asked to turn back the tide of cynicism and apathy in America.  I have read the working, and it will percolate all day as I go about mundane tasks.  This evening, as dusk falls (if I am lucky) or later at bedtime (if hectic time prevails), I will perform the working.

I am fortunate today.  As I have relayed before, I am not at peace with the images on the “banners” selected by Hekate-Demeter as I simply find no resonance with some of them, I find one hopelessly Euro/white-centric, or I cannot visualize something as vague as “the Underground Railroad” as a visible device.  This week’s target area is my home Northwest, however, and the leaping salmon of our many dam-threatened streams and rivers.  I can work with that visualization.

I suspect I will struggle in the weeks ahead.  Walden Pond does not speak to me of New England.  The “Underground Railroad” for the South does speak, and loudly — but I can’t make it an image, for me it is scurrying sounds in the dark, hushed voices, smells of sweaty frightened hurrying people.  A cowboy for the Southwest is a hopeless bit of white colonization that I prefer to NOT identify as a main American aspect to be pushed as “what to defend.”  In my visualization — I see the banners as colors instead.  As colors with elemental connotations.  I see the NE banner at pentagram point in vivid yellow; the SE banner is verdant green; the SW banner is burnt desert red, the NW banner is water blue, and the tip banner is alternating white and black.

I do value Hekate-Demeter’s desire to find a visual image for each region, but I suspect I am not the only one needing a more general image or a completely different image to actually work with so that the mind doesn’t go off in a rant about Euro-entric Marlboro men.  Hey, when I played cowboy and Indians as a kid, I insisted on being the Indian in spite of being given numerous cowgirl outfits.

Or, as I will do with the Southeast?  I won’t make a visible image at all — I will hear that demanding search/run for liberty.  But even that will be a work in progress.  If this exercise is to awaken cynical/apathetic hearts — is it enough to only reach for those already more or less mobilized?  What about the white, largely not-considering-Underground-Railroad-past populace of the Southeast?  How does magic create empathy and connection there?  I feel this being left out of the working IS a problem.  We can’t just look at what we LIKE, we have to look at what we are NOT seeing and do NOT like as well.  ALL of it is part of the mundane/magical equation.

I am a Westerner by feeling, frankly suspect of things East of the Rockies; and East of the Mississippi – forget-about-it!  I have lived in every part of this nation; New England’s beauties moved me.  Walden Pond did not.  But the American South is a hard sell to me.  “If they threaten to secede again,” I’ve often said, “Let them!”  So, like the kid with negative behaviors that eats all the parental energy — I find myself getting into snarling knots about how to “reach” that bit of my nation.  I want to punish and slap them first – and only reach when they are contrite!  So there is my Hekate/guide/avatar with a torch AND a sword?  I am spending a lot of energy trying to amend my attitude.  And parts of me are mounting a vivid resistance to amending that attitude.  So it goes.

Thank goodness, we start the effort with my own Northwest — I have “grappling time” before I tackle the South.  And then, perhaps, as HD said about discomfort in working, or fear or threat, it IS “ok” to sit out a working for fear of fucking it up.  By the time we get around to the SE banner, I should know if I can do it at all or if I will let that one ride on someone who liked “Gone With the Wind”.  (I know, I know — hoity-toity and dismissive.  We ALL know this IS me, right?)

How do you see the “banners”?  What do you find at the heart of America beneath the center of HD’s pentagram hovering over the continental U.S.?  Is there a section that you most align with; is there one that is the hardest reach for of all?  ARE you doing the exercises/workings?  Or still thinking about it?  How shall we, a sort of virtual circle, go about this?  Everyone hitting for the brass ring weekly (or as I do about 4 times a week)? Or should we trade off — a couple people working, everyone else concentrating on energy work FOR the workers?

Speak up!  I’m actually a bit sick of the sound of my one hand clapping!

Visualization Practice

It’s St. Patrick’s Day. A perfect excuse for bangers and mash in this house, tho’ we are neither Catholic, nor Irish. BUT, since ole’ Pat allegedly disliked snakes?  It always reminds me how much I LIKE snakes.

So he thinks he won?

And snake-like things.  And beings.  Like Medusa the Gorgon.  To command a paralyzing glance from this accursed beauty with hissing snakes for hair….oh, to HAVE that is, I freely admit, the stuff my fantasies are made from!

So, the image on the cover of “The Mirror” above?  Reminds me of the Hellenic hero holding the severed head of the Medusa.  He was careful to cover it and not fall victim to her stoney stare.  When I see the image above, I see Lady Liberty’s head changing….into a serpent wreathed face of wrath that turns and focuses a paralyzing STOPPING gaze at the one who would destroy her meaning.

Is this the negative attack magic I said I would not engage in?  Well, if Trumpelthinskin really was holding Liberty’s head, yes, it would be.  But he isn’t, not really.  So it is, for me a healthy exercise in resistance when my fuel is running low.  It is a visualization that powers me through the dark (even without Al Pacino to share being in the dark with me, shucky darn!), it is a reminder of the threat turned BACK on the real threatener.

I offer it up to you all.  Enjoy!  See Liberty sprout writhing snakes, turn her head in his hand to stare him in the face.  See him turn to stone, crack and crumble like over cooked bacon bits!

Also, speaking of “you all”?  All of you know similarly minded people who might participate with us.  If you submit their names, I will send invitations so we may be more rather than less.  Hekate-Demeter will be posting the next exercise in the Magical Battle of America tomorrow.

Let discuss how the battle has gone thus far by her instructions, shall we?  I’ve already put up some of my sensations — so it is YOUR turn!  I think the general outline is good, but I think each of us must find individual tweaks to enable us to really correspond with being a force.  How has it gone thus far, what tweaks did you find needful?  What didn’t work at all?  What did you do instead?

Breakfast (Brunch?) With Jack

Is it really breakfast still if it happens after noon? I woke up with my shoulders and back in spasm.  Today is the day the new washer arrives and the used, larger, dumber old school refrigerator.  So before my coffee was downed, I moved things on my bread making counter, got up atop it, and slipped down behind my current wide but shallow fridge; to push it straight out into the kitchen to clear the space for its replacement.    Something crunched alarmingly as I pushed it clear.  But, triumphant, I pushed it across the kitchen and plugged it back in on the other side.  Only five minutes later did my husband notice the bloody prints across the floor.

Apparently a piece of glass was the crunch and as I pushed the fridge, I stepped upon it and took a goodly chunk of skin and flesh off one toe.  :::sigh::: That kind of day?  We bandaged my toe and I dressed to go to lunch with the Germans anyway — delivery won’t be till afternoon.  By the time I arrived, my back was being a misery and my toe, inside my low boot, felt oddly squishy wet.  My appetizer was a shot of Jack Daniels to kill the pain and close surface capillaries.

But it is not the thing to quit.  Minor hassles are – well, minor.  Fuck them.  So, why, those of you here ask, the privacy of shut doors here at Steel Kachinas?  Because physical hassles are easy to see, feel, and address.  Here, we will be discussing more subtle hard-to-track and react sorts of hassles.  Here we will have to discuss things others might dismiss as mere shadows.  But even shadows have their effect, their beauty and elusive qualities measured only on the subtle human soul, don’t you think?

Shadows, reflections, and invisible things – that will be our workplace, our tools here.  It feels like we’ve overdosed on Harry Potter, perhaps?   I know that this blog has many followers that boggle my mind; they are Christians and some of them of the liberal philosophical sort, but others  are of the rather fanatic “suffer not a witch to live” mentality.  Sometimes I think they follow my blog as a sort of surveillance – tho’ saying that aloud in print makes me feel like paranoia is my middle name.  Mind you, my personal belief is that their nasty vengeful “only ME” “God” is but a well-fed thought-form being and no really deity at all and they couldn’t “prayer warrior” their way out of a wet paper bag.  I do not want to feel censored, or have any of my viewers and commenters feel that need to self-censor.  Thus, the privacy to openly discuss things that might not be squeaky logic, things that might be paranoia!

Only open discussion will allow us to weed the fears in the garden of our actions.  I tend to do this aggressively.  I too well recall all the spell beggars on AOHell going on and on and on about being hexed and they “knew it by the pimples on their little chins”.  For everything I’ve ever thought might be negative magic in my direction?  I’ve debunked it myself in 90% of the questionable cases.  But even non-magical (don’t say “muggle” or I will throw virtual cat litter bombs at you!) fanatical monotheists CAN cause mischief.  I believe this is because magic or whatever it’s proper name ought to be IS the inheritance of humanity.  So, while their conscious minds might flail and tell their god to do it for them, their unconscious minds might just let fly with something maliciously effective.  Thus, as Hekate Demeter has told on her blog, the need for psychic protective measures.  And non-psychic stuff like a privatized blog.

So, when I am not tossing furniture about like a Klingon girl in love?  I will come up with what we military sorts called the “SOP” — Standard Operating Procedures.  These are not only daily operating procedures, but trouble shooting guides to keep the normal going normally.  Yes, magic has results – both where the person wanted it (if lucky) but also, frequently within the sphere of the practitioner.  This does not mean the 3-fold law is operating, not to me.  Nor do I acknowledge karma.  I acknowledge exhaustion, lack of focus, lack of spell crafting precision.  And yes, I acknowledge attacks.  Most attackers, in my experience, expect the attack to be like a freaking A-bomb: they expect you to drop dead/out of action at once.  Slinging it back at them usually puts them on their ass in every sense of the word.  So, I want to come up with an SOP of what has worked for me since I began, once upon a tentative time in about 1986.

And all of you here, intending to participate may toss in your own suggestions of course, or question mine.  I don’t DO “high priestess” except for the Dead.  So I don’t give commands to any of you any more than I do to them.  I “suggest” and occasionally make warning sounds.  A priestess SERVES.  I serve the dead, and I serve America for which they died.  We must raise a wall to counter the one Trumplethinskin wants to protect him from the brown people – a wall to protect what America was meant to be, what it has tried to be.  We must protect and serve the vulnerable, the powerless, the frightened.  Not with hostility and negative hate; but with an overarching love and compassion that will put itself like a shield betwixt the haters and the America-at-risk.

Make it so!