Bohemian Gothic Spread
I’ve been trying to get better at reading Tarot cards lately. My problem is that I cannot seem to integrate the meanings of numerous symbols, numerology, and color theory. My memorization is poor when I try to do it. This is why I’m not good at tests or math or logic puzzles that ask me if Jane lives on the third floor next to Bob but Bob doesn’t live next to Ken, where does Lily live? So Tarot readings are tough for me. I also struggle with going with my intuition when reading the cards and rely way to often on the book that comes with the deck. I am trying to break out of this habit and see if I can get a reasonable reading on my own, but I’ve yet to find a deck that truly speaks my language. The ones that do are out of print, exorbitantly expensive, or unpublished. Or perhaps, it’s merely a lack of trust in my intuitive process.
I have often thought I am good at making intuitive leaps and act accordingly and in some instances of my life this has been so. But Tarot is different. I think my christian fundamentalist background still wants to work its way into my psyche and undermines my ability to trust myself rather than what’s written by someone else. Words have always held weight and authority for me, so something written down seems sacred and permanent somehow. Yet I am also a firm believer in the sanctity of the individual spirit and soul freedom; our innate right to believe what we want to believe and not what someone tells us to believe. This reliance on perceived “authority” is a hard habit to break.
However, tonight I was struck by these three cards from the Bohemian Gothic Tarot. It’s a beautiful dark deck with rich colors and themes. I thought I would try my hand at “reading” the cards as I see them. I did not ask a question when I shuffled the deck, but concentrated on my life. The cards are Page of Pentacles, The Two of Cups, and The Chariot. This is not the order I dealt them. I rearranged them into a logical sequence. The elements represented are Earth, Water, and the Major Arcana of Choice which reminds me of Air. The colors that strike one first are pink and red and a splash of deep blue. Circles are prominent in the moons in two cards and the church window in the other. The Page of Pentacles is a card that implies physical innocent youth. The little girl is innocent, yet under authority, as she stands in front of the church window. This is the “moon” for her; the intuitive source. The Two of Cups implies relationships, grown up and fraught with decisions, wooing, marriage, courtship, etc. The Chariot sees choices to be made. The “driver” of the Chariot is not driving, also telling me that choices are out of one’s hands sometimes.
What struck me about these cards are the brilliant colors of the Page’s dress (pink implying innocence) and the two colors of the flowers she holds in her arm; deep purple and blue (perhaps implying maturity). She has covered herself and looks unsure. My inner child is like this. I wanted the beauty of pure innocence but that was not to be had in the power structure into which I was born. Later, there are choices about lovers and marriage. I find it fascinating that the wooing lover on the bench is in a similar position as the figure in the chariot and both wear the color red which implies power and confidence however casually they stand or sit. Both have their arms at rest on a knee or chair and their other hand is at rest. In the Two of Cups the woman’s dress is not so brilliant a color. It is pale pink and washed out. She looks resigned. Perhaps she doesn’t really have a choice of lovers, only an illusion of one. Her face is illuminated and her wooer’s is not perhaps meaning he has secrets. The Chariot also sees Light and Dark in the illumination of the stone figureheads. The Page is illuminated completely; perhaps by a camera? It all came together for me in a non-specific but gut-reactive kind of way. I understood the reading! And I did not consult the book. I took the skills learned in literary analysis and applied it. Notice the patterns, the clues, etc. How does it all hang together? And more importantly, what does it say to me?
It’s obvious to me that my inner child is taking a beating in the counseling I’ve received lately. My beautiful innocent inner child has grown up without “protection” yet has always been faced with choices however minimal the choices. Still, yet, there are some things totally out of our control. The trick is to deal with the choices that are made for us and make the best choices we can from the ones that require our attention. There may seem to be only “two” choices to be had. But this is false. We have many choices, the greatest of which is how we react to all situations. Do we bend or do we break? All we need do is recognize the patterns of the past and learn not to repeat them if they are detrimental to our growth or embrace them if they are not. Tools like Tarot can help us stop and think about the process before blindly rushing in to make a decision.
I woke up with this thought today: There must be more to life than just “purity codes.” Meaning that most patriarchal religions are systems of beliefs that are meant to make your world smaller. Rather than embrace life, these religions constrict it, bind it, put it under rule. I could never understand why I chaffed at these religions for most of my life, even though I willingly took them on without having a clear understanding of what life was all about. As I get older I am beginning to realize that life is meant to be lived enlarged and open. More love, more compassion. I don’t see compassion in restrictive religions. I see censure and a focus on willing the soul and body into submission. An otherworldly submission that we know nothing about. In the meantime the purity codes of these religions say “don’t, don’t, don’t.”
I have struggled with this most of my life. The only time I did not was when I was younger and religion was not an issue. No religious household where I grew up. Only the equivalent of an exacting, merciless god. I take great heart though reading posts like this. The author writes of a spiritual dry spell he went through recently, but one passage struck me:
“Religion was cleared away in a instant, with certainty, such that whenever I hear any traditional appeal to higher authority; “the Bible says…”, “the Church teaches…”, “God wants…”, I have to smile (or I have to remind myself to smile!) and remember that almost everyone naturally bases their fundamental assumptions on memes they’re taught, rather than the undeniable aspects of their own experience.”
Yes, why are we taught these things by others? Why can’t “religion” or spirituality be something one finds and grows into themselves? It’s not an academic discipline that must be learned. It’s a way of viewing the world and then living creatively in it. For me, this doesn’t seem like something one can pass on as if it was a set of facts like math or geography. Rather than live my life with a whole series of “Thou shalt nots..” I much prefer to begin discovery with “You are….” and see where that takes me. If the former produces fearful folk who feel constantly watched, then the latter should produce a healthier version of the loved soul.
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A Glorious Dawn – Cosmos Remixed. This is excellent!
I’ve fallen under the God-spell again. Yes, I succumbed in the name of healing my spirit to the community of Christians who offered a supportive environment for divorce. Increasingly, however, I have found that although I’ve felt relief at not having to resist the pull of old habits, I have become more narrow minded and more disgusted with things because of the mindset that surrounds the “one” God of the triumvirate of “only true” religions: Christianity, Islam, Judaism. I’ve become also less patient with myself and more critical of everything I do. For self reflection that can be a good thing, but in this case it was quickly becoming scrupulosity again. The pull back was comforting, but again reminded me that when we grow in a new direction, going back is like putting on a too small suit of clothes. We wish it would fit, but we look ridiculous in it. Our abundance can no longer be stuffed into the confines of something so small.
Last night I had a dream that some man was sitting in the chair I had previously occupied. I called him on it and told him to get out of it. He said no belligerently. What ensued was an argument that escalated into a fight and I woke up just as he was putting his hands around my neck. This morning I drew some Tarot cards from the Dance of Life deck. I drew the Guide (reversed), Patriarch (reversed) and Demon/Lover of Self. This deck uses Gestalt and psychotherapy as a basis for card design and interpretation so the suits are unique and the Major Arcana are unique as well. However the Guide is the equivalent of the Magician in traditional tarot and indicates someone well versed in her own spiritual “tools.” A reversed card indicates repression of something, either willingly or unwillingly. I took this reading to mean, as did my dream, that my inner Patriarch was reasserting itself and trying to kill off the natural wisdom I’ve come to trust over the years. Everything I’ve ever learned about my intuition and following my inner guide had been subverted by again trying to follow “the rules” set out by organized religion. I wanted to purge myself of it once again, but have fallen asleep on the job. I didn’t guard my position of authority. My polarized opposites were again in opposition, not peaceful co-existence. Therefore, I need to re-integrate them once again; bring them into balance so that in moments of fear I don’t go screaming off to find a daddy to pacify me. I seem to fall into this trap over and over. It happens less often now, but it does happen and I have yet to completely discern why.
Fear of the unknown perhaps. Fear of the future. Just Fear in general. I know that when I am most afraid, I turn to a “father” type of god. Since I’ve never had a father figure in my life, these figures seem to represent all knowing comfort and security for me, something that mothers do not. And I think that that right there is the reason I struggle so with the father/mother images of the Divine. I’d be better served by imagining a Divine energy source, neither male or female or imagining a big brother or sister perhaps. But parental images are problematic and always have been. At least a Divine genderless spirit wouldn’t carry awful connotations from growing up, however uncozy it seems in reality. But more to the point, I think I need to focus less on the big Spirit out there and focus more on the Big spirit in me. Hopefully, I can stop the cycle of fear, patriarchy, scrupulosity, and abandonment. I can learn ways to comfort myself rather than turn outward in fear. Now that might be worth learning.
A couple of weekends ago, a friend and I walked a labyrinth for the first time. It was a natural labyrinth, cut into the tall grasses and goldenrod of Jubilee Farm, a Dominican Sisters land reclamation project near where I live. I’ve always been attracted to circles. Even crop circles fascinate me in their design and interlocking beauty. Circles are so natural and mazes even more so that since a child I’ve been fascinated with making them out of swept grass, raked leaves, gravel, sand, you name it. I had heard that many people find that the meditative practice of meandering back and forth in a labyrinthine circle exercises both the right and left sides of the brain and induces a particularly prayerful experience.
The entrance to the Labyrinth
So, on a bright Saturday morning we drove out to the edge of town to soak up the quiet of nature and to see what all the fuss was about. Fortunately, it wasn’t too hot yet and my friend and I were the only ones there. I let her enter first and after about 5 minutes, I entered it. As I wound my way to the center I found myself letting go of so many things. I asked forgiveness of the Divine for old hurts perpetrated on those who didn’t deserve it and let go of those things I’d been hanging onto as well. I felt as if I was dropping each one on the path and leaving it there for good. As I got closer to the center I felt lighter. At the center there were tree stumps to sit on and a rock in the middle. Others had brought smaller rocks to mark the place as the ancient Hebrews had done in the Hebrew scriptures to mark the places they encountered G*d.
My friend caught up with me and sitting there across from each other, it was so quiet we could hear the insects and the birds making their noises. We only exchanged a few words. I closed my eyes and saw all the blood in my head rushing upward behind my eyelids. It was as if all the negative emotions were rushing out of me and into the sky. I felt at peace for the first time in a long time. After a time we took turns meandering back out of the labyrinth and coming out of the entrance again we felt refreshed and renewed. We agreed that doing that at least once a month would go a long way in helping us lay our burdens, fears, and anger down and opening up to a refreshment from the Divine. I don’t get out in natural surroundings often enough and this day, doing it with one of my best friends, was very helpful and made for a fun, calm day. I’ve been carrying the feeling with me ever since.
Circles and Labyrinth Resources:
