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!

 

Tuesday Tarot – Majors Six, Seven, Eight

Will this be the last public Tuesday Tarot?  If not, it nearly is; I admit, I’ve not found the nerve to click the “private blog” button just yet!  But when I do it, I may copy and paste these posts over at Herlander Walking for anyone still interested.  These cards, and the layouts I will be doing as part of the work for the Magical Battle of America, are one of the reasons for going private.  I want to discuss those with trusted others I’ve known online for some time.  But I don’t want to put it out there for just anyone to read.  But enough – on with the Major Arcana of the Minoan Tarot!

I am still not weary of the color scheme, tho’ I did not expect that to be one of my favorite parts.  It appeals to my Elemental Magic affinity!  Also, I am just now beginning to attend to the color backgrounds on the Major cards — emotive blue, for instance on the Loves and the Chariot; but airy yellow on Justice.  I could see this deck being excellent for intuitive readers, in spite of the simple format of images.

So, the Lovers #6 –  The operative phrase is “I choose.”   I really like that one; I have ever been a nay-sayer about the old saws about “not being able to choose who you love” – calling that nonsense and existential bad faith!  The Linear B designation means mother/father — perhaps a none too subtle reminder of the results of one sort of love?  Perry defines this card as a union of opposites, a definite choosing and a consequence for every choice.  That sounds a mite preachy, maybe?  But in some ways, it is a useful warning; even NOT choosing is actually a choice, simply an unacknowledged one.  That is the gist of the reversed meaning, too: avoidance of responsibility for choices.  And I have to admit I giggle at this card – isn’t the guy angsty?  Fist to forehead?  The woman’s fist to chest, too?  Wait — is she saying men decide with the head and women with the heart?  Laura, Laura, Laura — you little sexist, you!  I hope she just ripped random images from murals and combined them withOUT that idea.

The Chariot #7 – The phrase is “I control.” and the Linear B means “wheels”.  One certainly hopes to control; I admit the image of a flying courser on the chariot gives pause.  This card is all about taking charge, direct honest action, not manipulation — that said, would not a fiery red background been better than emotive blue?  This card, Perry says, means success by controlling OTHERS.  Ouch.  Not so much my reading, but possibly one to keep in mind.  I’d look at other cards to see if he/she you read for IS into controlling others by some force majeur?  I’ve ever read this card as self control and focus to maintain one’s own course in life.  The reversal connotes a lack of self-discipline and blaming others, flailing and drama, upon losing control.  (Gee, who does THAT remind me of?  Is there a trend here in my reminded-ofs?)

Justice #8 –  I find this card peculiar.  Most of my decks make Strength the 8th card, since multiples of 4, in numerological symbolism, connote stability and strength, I get that.  But #8 and #11 are often switched about in tarot decks; it is the image that confuses me.  The image dilutes this card for me — four guys stomping grapes?!  “I evaluate” is the phrase and the Linear B inscription is “must” — meaning unfermented grape juice.  Perry attributes this card as meaning cause and effect shape your life.  That is a pretty dilute meaning for “justice”, don’t you think?  I think I will consider that line from the Battle Hymn of the Republic about ” trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored” to give it back some vigor!  This card, for me, is always more about a can of whup-ass being opened, not making unfermented grape juice.  Perry gives the reverse a bit more punch – but still leaves it a very personal card, saying “you” might be the focus of injustice, or your own bad act chickens could be coming home to roost.  That can be so, of course – but I’d find that more the meaning in something like a ten of swords/daggers.  With the Major Arcana, I tend to think it is less personal and more archetype-related: bigger trends/beings beyond yourself or your actions and desires.

To me the 22 major cards symbolize the forces outside your own sway to a certain degree.  So while I find a sort of existential satisfaction in Perry’s definitions; I also find it waters down the concept we are all (be honest!) completely uncomfortable with — some things in life do simply NOT respond to OUR cause and effect.  I use a layout with eleven cards; if I find half or more of them are the Major Arcana cards I read that as a time to buckle down for a ride.  A ride in which you are likely NOT driving!

Anyhow, that is it for this week.  If you are a reader who gives a hoot about still seeing these Tuesday Tarot posts?  Let me know in comments, and I will then make the decision whether to post them over on ever-public Herlander Walking!

Monday After Sunday Night Walk in the Dark

Mondays are the days where I let myself have as much coffee as I want. Sometimes I let myself use my small vape cigarette, tho’ I never was a smoker. It is the day I avoid physical work and focus on rest and pleasures. Luckily, this week, in the midst of garage conversion to living space – it coincides with painting. I cannot do painting, even the new low VOC paints make me sick since my 2014 binge of painting, stripping, and refinishing.  But even on Mondays, some work must be done.

I do think any sort of mundane political work is a must, but as I’ve repeatedly said — I will try on any and all fronts to protect my country.  That does include magic.. And I consider magic the heredity of human-kind, something we’ve possibly forgotten or been stripped of by power mad manipulators in the “god business” of monotheism. BTW, they are hostile as their hell. This is why some magical workers may prefer to keep details of actions under wraps.

So, I lazed over coffee, thinking about last night’s attempt (I work on the MBoA four nights per week) at working in the Magical Battle of America.  I did the ritual bit for self protection, I lay back in my safe cozy bed to shut my eyes to “fly”.  I thought it a good night to “see” what my ally/archetype Hekate saw, perhaps.  But on morning analysis, I might not have really been prepared or focused sufficiently?

Bam!  There I was, again suspended in blackness — with one of the blue-white pentagram rays streaking away from me like a line to sight down before firing an arrow.   Was I looking North?  East?  I was unsure.  I whirled about, effortlessly in the black, and this time, starless air.  The moon is full and yet no light was in my “there” sky.  I felt little “explosions” on my bare face, arms, and feet?  Snow, I suddenly realized – snowflakes hitting me and melting with a sharp cold sensation!  I looked down, seeing the glow of labyrinthine lines — but the angle was off, I was not centered over it and it seemed far away and blurred; by the snowstorm?  I couldn’t see the sod house center, I did not descend upon looking down.

I was confused.  “Hekate?”  I thought, in a curious questing way?  “Anyone?”  No torches in the dark…

I stepped out on the nothing of the snowy air.  The wind whistled in spite of earplugs I had placed in my ears.   Utter darkness, and aside from the wind, utter silence – the profound hush that snow can bring.  If Hekate was there in the night, it was She with the key and serpent, not the torchbearer.  I stopped moving with this thought.  What subtlety of the serpent was suggesting itself here?  What key to knowledge and effectiveness was I missing?

In the cold and in the dark.  Alone.  A preternatural hush all around me.  Nothing visible by now.  Before action, is it not wise to know where one begins – what the problem looks like?  Here then is the problem – America is in the dark, and becoming ever more alone (in the dream of the proud?). We certainly don’t have silence – plenty of screaming going on, but after a while, it becomes a nearly indecipherable din, doesn’t it?  And the snow?  Well, there was a snowstorm in the East last night….

Magically Battling On

So the Magical Battle of America continues, still in the phase of building the “tools” of the working.  As it has been all along, I am a walking heterodoxy with the way HecateDemeter envisions it — looking for “American” archetypes and allies, instead I find the ones I’ve always had coming to my call.  Last week, inspired by a flitting vision, I walked my Labyrinth in reality as I meditated to see what allies would come.  On a calm weather day, at the center, I felt a strong wind in my face and heard the thunder and snorting of masses of horses.

So this week, in meditation last night with a protective circle in place, I was uncertain what to expect — Valkyries?   Wild horses?  Mounted Comanche warriors?  The dead troops I’ve walked Inward?  Last weeks goal was to free whichever willing warriors would come back OUT of the Walk of the Fallen.  This weeks goal was to find personal ally-archetypes for America.

I shut my eyes, and reinforced the darkness with a sleep mask.  Then I was standing in dark starry night air – hovering upright betwixt the glowing pentagram – it’s northern point directly behind/above my head.  Below me glowed my own labyrinth shape, super-imposed upon the Plains heartland, with a sod house center.  I looked down and instantly descended, my feet hitting the roof of the sod house with a distinct thump that I felt all the way up my spine.  I was facing South, and the West Wind was blowing the grass and my own unbound hair towards the East.  “Who will come with me?” I asked.

FullSizeRenderIn front of me, a shape spun in the air.  A peace sign’s lines without the circle – each doubled into a pair?  What, I thought, a stolen Mercedes emblem of some sort?  No…three lines meeting, each set double with a space between, like a road between curbs.  And it clicked — the sign of Hekate Tri-via!  Horses, dogs, and serpents are her creatures. She carries torches, evocative of the one in Lady Liberty’s hand.   Instantly a beautiful face, a bit like Isabel Rosselini’s, smiled at me briefly.  Hekate Enodia, I thought-cried out!  She who will walk the roadways of America for (with?) me!  She has long been the invoked sister-walker of the Labyrinth I keep.  “What will you see?” I asked her, “What will you tell me?”

Still thinking this communion, I fell asleep and dreamt.

A Few Things Off My Chest

I’ve been troubled on so many levels since November 8th, that I feel a wee bit like Indiana Jones, dropped into the tomb full of snakes. But I like snakes better than I like the things disturbing me, to be honest, because snakes ARE more honest.  They kill to defend or to eat, not to be mean.  People can’t always say that.  I have tattoo’d snakes going up my left arm, and people sometimes shudder to see them.  Snakes don’t make me shudder, people DO!

These things that trouble me, things that marginalize and “liminalize” me, sap my energy.  These are things from my alleged “own side” that make me tilt my head, scrunch my eyes, step back in dismay.  To me, long a student of history and schooled in the ways of “the Red threat” — these are things I could safely categorize as “fifth columnists.”  Do the perpetrators of these troublesome bits KNOW they are a danger to their own side?  I rather doubt it.  They THINK they are helping to whip up the troops.

But they are whipping fears and divisions and hatreds.  They are fanning negative flames instead of building warming home-fires.  What do I mean?  I’m only going to hit a couple examples.

Well, for one thing, almost every day when I get the mail (and email), there is a plea to send money to this or that candidate in some other state.  This bothers the hell out of me.  To me, the people IN that state are the ones who should have the say in THEIR election.  Some years ago, here in Washington State, there was an effort to get through a bill about gun sales.  And oh, the OUTRAGE of the Democrats that the NRA and their many “civilian” supporters sent money from OUT of STATE to “interfere with OUR election!”  Well, pot meets kettle, don’t you think?  IF it is wrong for the Right to do it; why would it be right for the Left to do it?  Yes, I am big on the idea of fighting fire with fire — but you have to know when that fire is going wild to burn EVERYthing.  So hell no, my money will not go to other states even to support candidates for ‘my’ side; I think that is a political SIN to interfere in the sovereign voting rights of other citizens of my country.  . I think that is overstepping the bounds of political decency.

Then there is this little hate-clad thing about the wife of the Presidential Celebrity Apprentice (because ISN’T he an apprentice?). First there were snarky signs: “Melania, are you alright?”  That was semi-funny.  But also semi-sad; because when I looked at most of the photos, she actually looked tense, possibly frightened.  She looked like a woman doing an unwanted performance and she was largely ignored by her husband as she did it.  Then there were bloggers saying, “Well, first I felt a little sorry for her, but she married the jerk — so she can lie in that bed.”  Wow.  How fucking compassionate is THAT?

This woman was an immigrant.  Personally, having been hungry and desperate enough to want to run away from where I was in my life?  Had I actually run and an apparently rich and powerful man offered me marriage so I could stop worrying about hunger and a roof over my head?  I’d likely have taken him up on it, too.  And any of you out there sneering down your nose about now, saying “Fucking never!” – tell me how hungry you have been.  Tell me how much you struggled and for how long with NO help before you judge me OR her, ok?  Does she regret her choice now?   I don’t know; judging by his divorce record I’d say chances are she might.  I sort of wish that wasn’t true for her sake – because an unhappy marriage is such a hell that starvation doesn’t sound like such a bad way to go.

So, if it was shitty of the Republicans to trash Hillary, and her daughter?  If it was wrong to call First Lady Obama an “ape” — by what fucking fair play rules is it right to pick on a woman who still sounds like she struggles a bit with English and is just hoping to raise her son in peace?  Also, it is pretty shitty fucking feminism to blame a woman for her husband’s bad behavior; remember how you ALL said that when Trump blasted Hillary Clinton with Bill Clinton’s bad actions?  

So if you want to be spoken to civilly by ME?  Knock that classless shit OFF.  STAY on the message instead of engaging in cruel, useless ad-hominem attacks on wives of ANYone.    About now, I’m sure someone wonders why this largely political post is here on my “spiritual blog”?  Well, because if a person believes in attempting magic?  They need to know something about the energy the practitioner  is going to be trying to throw about, ok?

IF the witch/magician/sorcerer/shaman/priest/priestess is polluted with hate, anger of the wrong sort, etc?  Then their magical energetic aim is NOT coming from a premier source and it damages the effectiveness of the working.  This was clear in Dion Fortune’s letters, as I recall.  She told her groups to keep working positive — to focus not on attacks, but protections; not on tearing down, but on building up.  And that resonates for me with political action.  We can resist all the horror we want, but if ALL we do is react to dreadful things and fear?  We are not building something effective in which to survive and live.  That counts politically and magically.

So, as this blog will soon go private, and I will send invites and accept emails asking for invites — let it be known, if you do NOT clean up your own act first, you will not be part of this virtual circle.  Trust me, it’s not easy.  I know.  I am a bite and smite special, myself; but I know when I have to bank the fires of anger to keep the warmth and avoid the melt-down.  I have to MAKE myself look to what makes it better.  IF this post gets you all riled up and righteous about “who the hell does she think she is?”  Well, then I am almost certainly talking to you.

Don’t just get scared by the world that needs fighting, get righteously angry at the wrongs being done.  But don’t just get angry – get rationally and constructively engaged.  To do that from a place of pure flowing energy means you can’t pour emotional/political poisons into the fucking cauldron!