The last three days has been intensity in motion. So again, I am late. Thus is life, it is merely peculiar in that my busyness has actually been semi-priestessy in nature instead of mere mundane hectic.
But I now will focus and calm myself continuing the viewing of Laura Perry’s Minoan Tarot! Again, this week’s selection begins with a card I ADORE as an “instead” of the traditional representation of a Christian devil. I love the Major Arcana card
#15 The Minotaur – the operative phrase assigned to this card is “I fear.” and the Linear B inscription reads “bindings/ties.” What more poignant representation of captivity/enslavement/a state of being trapped than the Minotaur? If the Major cards suggest things that come from outside ourselves, at least partially, or through poor choices that we DO participate in? Well, the Minotaur – cursed from birth to terrify and horrify, so thus finding himself confined and confused and left to become a monster in his lonely rage and impotence – is there a better image. It is not about evil; we need no Christian devil (that often demonized the image of older gods). It is about the darker self, the denied self, the neglected self — the vampire times starved self that we all might lock away in shame. It is about obsession, fear, addictions, compulsions – it is about material affairs denied spiritual outlet. This card shouts of the need to embrace and rehabilitate the darkness within so it serves you as your inner ally. Reversed, it warns you of projecting your darkness onto others and attacking THEM, instead of facing your own rejected self.
This card reminds me of the last three days. Sunday we attended what was called a “celebration of life”; in other words, a funeral/memorial service. For a tiny baby girl who had one normal month of life before she was battered and assaulted so viciously that the next two months were spent dying. It was like being immersed in fire to sit through Disney montages and music amidst bright balloons and an insistence upon forced jollity. Some bereft mourners fled to the parking lot to weep without breaking the rules of this celebration. When did we become so ashamed to be justifiably angry and to mourn with understandable tears? When did we become bound to a convention of pretending there is joy instead of deep sorrow? Monday, here, we slept — exhausted with anger and grief for those forbidden to show their grief. And today, we dressed and left to go escort a tiny white casket to the crematorium. This was no celebration of joy and blessedly private. There were muted tears, and hands clinging to each other. This brief all but silent affair felt real and genuine – but it certainly was not public, but hidden. Are we, as a culture, locking our most serious innermost moments away in a labyrinth with NO public exit?
#16 The Tower – has the phrase “I collapse.” and the inscription “Palace” and portrays a Cretan palace overwhelmed by a tsunami such as destroyed at least one coast of Minoan Crete when the massive volcano on Thera exploded. Perry attributes this card to upheaval, crisis, ego destruction and revelation. She credits it to a “force majeur” beyond personal control. It has links to the 10 of daggers and 5 of horns — cards I personally prefer to never see in a spread (and yet had both of those in one spread together this week). What she doesn’t say in her book, is what some more traditional mythos attributions do — the “tower” in question is NOT the “house of god” or a palace, but the walls of hell, which Christ allegedly broke in his three days buried and vanished from this world. In other worlds — this breaking is a necessary, a good breaking. I think either definition suffices — because no matter how needful, it isn’t going to feel very good while it happens to you! The reversal means you are clinging to something fallen, and the harder you resist the more you will lose in energy wasted holding up something that needed knocking down.
#17 The Star – I always like to see this card, but this image doesn’t much move me, I admit. The phrase is “I hope” and the inscription is “everyone/thing” — light at the end of the tunnel is good thing, yes. Inspiration and a change of heart is a good thing. But I somewhat dislike it being equated to “hope” as that follows on the oft quoted word “faith” — which I have none of and want none of, either. Hope can be a poison, keeping you from seeing just HOW dark something is, keeping you in a position of subservience that needs to be over. The reverse, Perry insists, is clinging to fear and doubts. I would suggest it means maybe the light at the end of some tunnels is a train.