Monthly Archives: January 2012
Tarot Draw #8
One of my favorite things is to find a piece of wisdom in the last place I would have expected. There’s a sense of delight there that just feels good to me. A great example comes from the movie Men in Black, when Tommy Lee Jones’ character shares this:
“A person is smart. People are dumb, panicky dangerous animals and you know it. Fifteen hundred years ago everybody knew the Earth was the center of the universe. Five hundred years ago, everybody knew the Earth was flat, and fifteen minutes ago, you knew that humans were alone on this planet. Imagine what you’ll know tomorrow.”
See what I mean? It’s one thing to find some insight in, say, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, but to find it in a random science fiction movie? That’s way more fun. In any case, it’s something like this idea of unlooked-for wisdom that prompted my latest Tarot draw.
Question: What card has an unexpected gift for me today?
Card: Page of Swords
First impressions: My first thought with any of the Pages is generally the same: “Wow. That’s a big damn ________.” I haven’t looked closely at this one before, but the same is true here. That’s a big damn sword.
About the card: The card is pretty simple. In the foreground, we have a young man holding the aforementioned big damn sword. He’s standing atop a small hill, and in the background we see the ocean, a beach, a cloudy sky with a few birds and a couple of palm trees. The page is holding the sword back over his left shoulder. Looking at the trees, the large swells in the ocean and the page’s hair, it’s clear that it’s very windy in this scene. Given that swords are associated with Air, that certainly makes sense.
The story without words: Given the way the page is holding his body (turned to the side, with one foot extended and his weight held back), what I’m seeing here is that he is practicing forms. His attention seems very focused on whatever is before him, but he’s not precisely in a fighting stance. While it’s obviously a windy day, it looks like a very pretty one – the sky is what I call a “Ferris Bueller shade of blue” and the page is dressed in a way that suggests that the temperature is very comfortable. It’s possible, I should note, that I’m noticing this in particular because it’s late January in Chicago, and blue skies and warm temperatures are both in short supply. 
But what does it mean?: One of the things I’ve heard about the Pages is that they’re the apprentices of the various suits/elements. It’s not about being a champion of the element, as in the case of the Knight, or of external or internal mastery of it (in the cases of the King and Queen, respectively). It’s about dedication, to learning, and perhaps even to surrender to that symbol or element, and to what that means to you.
I find that read particularly interesting with this card, because if the sword symbolizes air, then I generally don’t consider myself an apprentice thereof. Intellect, clarity of thought, discernment in communication…these are natural gifts I possess, and also tools I have spent a good deal of time honing. This is not to say that I wield those tools perfectly, by any means – far from it. But at the end of the day, this is the element, and these are the tools, that I am most generally comfortable with. One thing I am not comfortable with, though, is the idea of being an apprentice at anything. I love learning, but on my own terms, thanks. I do like trying new things, but generally in controlled environments where I get to set the parameters (and can ensure that nobody is around to witness my inevitable stumbles). An apprentice doesn’t have the luxury of dictating the terms or parameters of his or her learning, and an apprentice very often has an audience – all the better to learn, of course. This does beg an obvious question.
What might it mean to apprentice myself to tools that I am already skilled with? What might it mean to surrender to an arena in which I typically excel?
A number of possibilities come to mind, but the one that stands out right now is this: I admit that in the grand scheme of things, I don’t know as much as I like to imagine I do, and recognize that even in this area of strength I have much to learn. I look for opportunities to throw out what I already know. In short, I ask, “What if?” a lot…and then find out.
Looking at the question for this draw, then…what’s the unexpected gift that the Page of Swords offers? I think it’s the opportunity (which I mean in both the “sweet!” and the “Oh, shit!” connotations) to explore the tools I’m familiar with, an orientation to the world that I generally find comfortable, but to do so in a way that takes an intentional step back. Not just to question my actions after the fact, but to try something new, or try something I already “know” I can’t do, and learn what lessons I can from the experience.
(One other note that doesn’t quite fit with the above…for comparison, I pulled out the other Pages a few minutes ago, and saw something interesting. The Pages of Cups, Wands and Pentacles are all facing the symbol that they are apprenticed to. The Page of Cups, in particular, makes me chuckle because my immediate impression is, “I have a CUP! Whoa, look at that CUP!!” The Page of Swords, though, is already wielding his sword (not with a particularly effective-looking grip, it must be said, but that’s neither here nor there). He isn’t quite in motion yet, but there is motion all around him. He looks to me like he is preparing to move, while the other Pages are not.)
Tarot Draw #7
One of the greatest experiences I’ve had in the past several years is the opportunity to offer leadership training and mentoring to a group of committed students at Diana’s Grove Mystery School during my time as a staff member. I never really expected to be particularly good at this, but I’ve found rather to my surprise that it not only fed me, but that I brought something to that work that seemed to be really positive for others. Now that I’ve moved on from that affiliation, I know that I want to find a way to offer something similar – not to replicate that experience, but to create something new that meets that need in a different way.
I’ve spent a lot of time over the past couple of months thinking about what form that might take. While I haven’t reached clarity on the form, I have developed at least a partial list of what it might include (Warning: Some sort of rambling on this topic will likely be coming here fairly soon.) Since this has been on my mind so much lately, I decided that it would make for a fine question for my next tarot draw.
Question: What do the cards have to tell me about my intention to start a leadership and mentoring group?
Card: Knight of Wands
First impressions: Wow. That’s a big damn horse, isn’t it? And a very well-armored knight, to boot. Interesting that his visor is up, though. If I really knew something about the tarot, I’d probably have some great insight into that.
About the card: The image here is pretty straightforward, at least on the surface. In the foreground are the aforementioned Big Damn Horse and knight. The horse is rearing back and appears to be kicking out with its front hooves. The knight is wearing full plate mail and is holding a long wooden staff in his right hand while he uses his left to guide the horse. He has a yellow and black tunic over his armor, and fiery plumes on his helmet and at the back of his arm (not really shocking, what with wands being about fire). In the background we can see that the knight is in a desert, and there are either pyramids or large sand dunes in the far background.
The story without words: It’s interesting…if I imagined what a knight looks like, it would pretty much be this picture. Warhorse rearing back, the knight wearing his standard front and center, eyes forward toward whatever might be coming over the horizon…this sounds weird even in my own head (which is saying something) but the description that comes to mind is that this looks like a…hm. A recruiting poster, of all things, or a piece of propaganda. I almost expect there to be a caption about supporting our troops, or the war at home, or something.
Anyway. Let’s put that aside for a moment, because it’s bizarre, and explore two other aspects of the image that strike me as interesting:
- Here’s the thing about the knight’s armor – it’s freaking heavy. Contrary to what my misspent youth (and adulthood) playing tabletop RPGs taught me, one does not wear full plate armor to walk around in. Heck, one does not put the armor on in the first place without a lot of assistance.
- It still seems odd that the knight would be in full plate armor while presumably in the midst of battle or entering battle and not have his visor down. When I look at the card, I can’t help but imagine my mother lamenting that he might put an eye out. Never mind the fact that my mother has never, to my knowledge, suggested that any activity might put out an eye. It just seems like the sort of thing that ought to be said. My mother’s fictional concerns aside, the point here is that it seems weird.
But what does it mean?: Well, these last two points are interesting to me. I’ve been pretty well fixated on the idea of collaboration lately – of engaging in projects and work that involve excellent people who share their talents and knowledge freely with one another. I truly believe that amazing things come from that sort of arrangement. I’d like to believe that collaboration is ultimately the key to sustainability. I’m aware that the idea of the knight being helped into his armor doesn’t really speak to collaboration, as such – that’s more properly service, and not service among equals. But it’s my draw, and my question, so I’m going to interpret it however I want, thank you very much. 
About that visor, now. Looking at that aspect of the card through the lens of my question, I’m given to believe that the knight needs to have a clear view of what he’s approaching more than he needs to be protected. I’m hoping to help create something pretty unique in my experience, and a key component in doing that is to have my eyes wide open from the beginning. But even so, I note that the knight isn’t really free to look everywhere. He can’t look back, or really even to the sides. His field of vision is limited to what lies ahead of him. I’m not a proponent of tunnel vision, mind you, but there’s something to be said for focus. Usually, that something includes me saying, “I really need to figure out how to be more focused.” I like the idea of entering into a new project with my attention focused like the Knight’s here. Not tunnel vision, but with my eyes forward.
Side note: I find it at least vaguely interesting that I’m thinking about the idea of focus while writing my first post using FocusWriter, a minimalist word processor that helps remove distractions by the rather simple expedient of taking up the entire screen with a background and text window. I’m actually a little embarrassed to see how much difference that makes for me – just the fact that I can’t see my open browser tabs and other applications in the taskbar puts them out of mind really effectively. Obviously I’ve just started using it, but so far I really like it.
Terrified
Today’s installment of Sinfest
If you’re the sort who enjoys webcomics and Sinfest isn’t on your regular list, I humbly submit that it should be. I don’t think I’d recommend starting from the beginning, since that would involve beginning from comic #1, which is dated January 17, 2000. Today’s comic is #4,146.
(As an aside, there have been 4,378 days between January 17, 2000 and January 12, 2012. In other words, there have been 232 days without a comic. In the last twelve years. The mind boggles more than a little.)
In any case – I wouldn’t suggest plowing through the full archives. But do consider reading, even if you just start from today’s rather beautiful strip about love, inspiration, and abject terror. I can’t help but feel for Fuschia here as she confesses her angst to the kindly coffee shop owner.
Writing discipline
I just finished reading a short interview with Cory Doctorow where he talked about his discipline around writing every day – setting a word count and meeting it every single day. I’ve heard that before, and it sounds incredibly daunting to me. But he also talked about the fact that sometimes his word count goal is 200 or 250 words, if he’s busy with his other 972 projects that day. Like Doctorow, I type 70-80 words per minute. Writing 250 words in a day should be nothing, right? Of course, that would be 91,250 words over the course of a year. The thing that really boggled my mind, though, was this:
“When I hit that word target I stop. Period. I stop in the middle of a sentence, so I can start the next day without having to think of anything.”
Whoa. That’s…insane? Ridiculous? Amazing? Brilliant? I have no idea. It’s certainly nothing I’ve ever contemplated before.
Anyway. I’m not ready to commit to writing every single day, but reading Doctorow’s thoughts about doing so reminds me that I really do enjoy writing when I get in a groove of doing it *regularly*. I’m also really aware of how poorly disciplined I am about this. For instance, I was just thinking, “Hey, I’m doing great with the blog this year.” Then I noted that I’ve posted exactly twice in 12 days, and the most recent post was 6 days ago. That doesn’t really qualify as “great” in my book. To that end, then, I’m going to work on a tarot post today, and will get it posted by the end of the day Friday. Assuming, of course, that I don’t hit my word count target and stop in the middle of a -
Tarot Draw #6
Well, it’s 2012. Now begins the period of time where the nights get colder, good Chicagoans have reason to complain about the weather, and I write the wrong year on my checks for the next couple of months. Happily, this time of year lends itself to a rather obvious focus for a tarot draw. So, let’s do this – tarot draw #6, at last.
Question:What card will be an ally in the coming year?
Card: The Wheel of Fortune
First impressions: Um. Shit. My lack of expertise in the Tarot is, I think, well-documented here (enough so that I’m tempted to create a template along the lines of, “I don’t know a damn thing about these cards, but…” to go with each post), but even I have some reaction to this card. When a friend who’s inclined to tell me what their year card is tells me that they’re entering a Wheel year, I know enough to shake my head and say, “Oof.”
About the card: There’s a lot going on in this card. Let’s start in the middle and work our way to the edges. In the center of the cards is, um…a wheel. Go figure. There are a number of symbols on the wheel that I have to confess I don’t recognize at all. A sphinx is atop the wheel, holding a sword. On the left is a snake, and to the lower right there’s an Anubis-like creature. In the corners of the cards, in the clouds, we have four winged creatures – a lion, a bull, a bird that I kind of want to call a phoenix and a person (my Catholic upbringing wants me to call any person with wings an angel, naturally). Each of these creatures has an open book.
The story without words: With the center of the card dominated by a non-living image, I don’t get an immediate story to attach here. I’m sort of intrigued by the creatures in the corners, though. I note that none of them appears to be writing in the book they hold, which leads me to conclude that they’re reading instead. Either that or they’re each holding a book and wondering, “Why the hell am I up in a cloud with an immense wheel in front of me? Also, is that sphinx going to whack me with that big damn sword?”
Okay, let’s go with reading.
But what does it mean?: So what I “know” about the Wheel is that it symbolizes change. There are things that happen in the world that we can’t control. Many people view those things as the hand of god, or of fate – that is, they view it in the context of something that’s directed in some way. I don’t really go in for that, as a rule. I note that the card is called the Wheel of Fortune, not Fate. I believe pretty strongly that we all face challenges in the world and our circumstances, not because of some divine structure but because stuff happens. Some of that stuff is good, some is decidedly not good…but most of it simply falls in between. Most stuff exists in a sort of quantum state that both sucks and is awesome – our observation of that stuff, and what we do with that stuff, has some impact on it, of course, but in my experience most “stuff” has impacts that aren’t so easily categorized until much later.
That said…stuff happens, and none of us can be fully prepared for it. But the point of the card seems to be that just because I’m not completely prepared doesn’t mean that I’m helpless. I have tools – the sword that the sphinx holds can be seen as that sharp edge of discernment that I can use to cut away what doesn’t serve me (or some of it, anyway). Apparently there are flying bulls with books I can borrow, too. I have knowledge, and stories, and symbols, and from time to time I have the sense to make use of all of these things to deal with what’s happening around me. The world is rich in tools and lessons, if I but have the wit to realize that what is going on now is not what will be going on then.
Not a bad ally to have in a year that promises to include a whole lot of change, now that I think about it.
In defense of consumption
I’ve been thinking a lot about the winter season this year – call it Yule, or Christmas, or the Solistice, or Agnostica, or whatever you like. I’m not referring to any specific holiday or label, just the season in general. One of the common complaints – one that I often share, mind you – this time of year focuses on the combination of commercialization and consumption that seems to be an inevitable part of our culture. At a time when many people are lacking in resources, it seems like the height of foolishness to overspend on gifts…and yet this seems to be the norm. I find myself often among those decrying this trend each year, even as I also find myself to be a *part* of the trend to some extent. This inconsistency is probably something I should explore as part of my effort to improve myself, but that’s a different topic entirely.
This year, though…I don’t know. I’ve been thinking a bit more about the origin of our seasonal celebrations, and it occurs to me that this trend of consumption isn’t all that far off from those origins. Consider: At the winter solstice, a celebration has long been the custom. A time to celebrate being alive, and to hail the too-slow return of the light. Feasting at this time of year served a purpose both practical and symbolic. Practically, the livestock couldn’t all be fed through the winter months, and meat that had been brought in from the hunt would of course spoil, so it needed to be eaten. There’s also something to be said for ensuring that everyone was as well fed and healthy as possible as the winter months truly began. For the symbolic side, I think it’s pretty simple. There is a need to *feel* like there is plenty to go around, even when – or especially when – that feeling is so fleeting. I tend to believe that the feast at the solstice was both a celebration for the clan and a sort of wake for those who would not survive the winter.
Today, of course, the practical reasons aren’t exactly germane. At least in our culture, we have these useful things like refrigeration and food preservation. It’s not as though one of my housemates happened to come home with a turkey that we absolutely had to eat before it spoiled (though to be fair, I certainly ate last weekend as though there was some danger of that happening). And of course, today’s version of overconsumption in the winter season (at least in our culture) often takes the form of overspending as much as anything else. I think, though, that this overspending fulfills a symbolic role similar to long-standing seasonal celebrations and feasts. There is still a need to feel as though our resources – whether in the form of food, or money, or time – are abundant. To celebrate for the sake of celebration, even when we know that we might lament our choices when we look back at them in just a few weeks.
Don’t get me wrong – I’m not suggesting that this is a particularly healthy pattern. But this year I’m finding that I have a little more sympathy for the instinct that’s underneath that pattern. At the very least, I think I’ll be less likely to dismiss that overconsumption as being somehow contrary to the “true meaning” of this season.
