Stillness and Motion

(The Prisma Visions Tarot is a full-color version of the Light Visions Tarot I've written about previously, and the only deck I've bought for myself in over a year, also through Kickstarter. The quality of both decks is amazing. More information on artist's website, if anyone is interested.)

It's been months and months since I've done much of anything with my decks, months since I've written anything substantive at all. I first pulled out the Thoth because it is a comfort deck of sorts, at this point, but the cards were at once too familiar and too distant, a reminder that my reading skills have gotten a bit rusty. And so, perhaps a new deck for a new perspective...

The five of pentacles - the card of misfortune, of bad breaks, of poverty and ill health, of crisis, of loss and lack and falling down without the energy to get up. The Thoth titles this card Worry, and yes - instability, insecurity, they do tend to produce that.

The traditional RWS image is of a pair of cripples and beggars staggering through heavy snow, passing a wall and a stained glass window that brings to mind, for me at least, a church. Here, however, we have something a good bit more intriguing. The man is no longer stumbling forward. He has collapsed, too tired or lacking the will to go on. He is alone. More interesting still - there is no snowstorm howling around him; if anything, the background looks rather peaceful, warm. No, the snow is raining down on him only from out of that stained glass window, which here is tucked into a crumbling wall rather than a solid edifice. The window retains its vaguely church-like appearance, the lingering remnant of some kind of authority - but how much of an authority is it now, half-exposed in a wall to nothing that is quite clearly falling apart? The snow only falling down from that one window is so suggestive of the power of perspective, the limits of focusing on that one point. What would happen if the man were to crawl away a bit further - he turns his back to the window, but also to everything beyond it; his eyes linger on the snowflakes falling, the cold. Perhaps he is hungry - there is that fruit there, high up in the branches of the tree, but how could a man so tired, so listless and worn, hope to climb up that high? It is easier, surely, to focus on the familiar, even if it freezing and miserable.

The eight of wands next to it is even more of a contrast to the traditional imagery. In the RWS and direct derivatives, we usually have some variation of eight staves flying through the air as though thrown forward. The Thoth calls this card Swiftness, showing a prism, a rainbow, bolts of energy thrusting outwards. In either case it is a card that speaks of momentum, of rapid motion, of channeling energy and taking action, of progress, initiative, change. Here, though, the image rather strikingly seems to be one of stillness: the wands stand in place, vertical, as the thin trunks of young trees. In the background we have reeds, the hint of sunrise or sunset against still waters. If someone asked me how I thought it sounded like, inside this image, I would say quiet, it looks quiet there.

And yet - look closer, study the image for a bit longer, and you notice how odd it is, really, all those colorful flowers just blossoming like that, directly from the trunks of the trees. You see the white wisp of energy, of motion, of something curling and climbing up the rightmost of the trunks, the wands. It is, perhaps, a more subtle kind of motion than the stave flying through air, smaller, simpler, but perhaps that is the point - this is something graspable.

Something graspable, something slow and grasping, something crawling, dragging itself up.

Someone might tell that man collapsed in front of that window to drag himself up by his bootstraps, to stand, to walk away from that ennui and cold. Yes, you have lost so much, yes, you are tired and so very cold, but see what kind of a difference just a few steps would make? You could climb over that crumbling wall easily to the other side, see what is on the other side, see what that bit of the world is like, try. Someone could say, and it would be words, all of it, sounds, abstract and distant and a little unreal, everything. Unreal, the word could, to a person too exhausted to want to exist any longer, too tired to want to bear any more weight, a person simply done with trudging, a person capable of finding a sort of numbing comfort in pain. Swiftness, momentum, the thought of sending staves arcing through the air in rapid motion - that kind of effort is laughable, when one doesn't have the energy to stay standing.

But that climbing shoot, that barely visible at first glance, perhaps that is graspable. Perhaps the man could crawl, inch by inch, a bit further away from that too-familiar window, that stream of snow. Perhaps that crawling, grasping might turn into something more, in time. How much energy does it take, to find motion again in the quiet stillness of broken, crumbling ruins?

The nature of the rut in which we are stuck

As the title suggests, I have indeed been feeling rather stuck in a rut when it comes to most dealing with life type things for a good few months, and have been growing increasingly frustrated with the situation. This has not, unfortunately, been particularly conducive to getting back into the swing of things with working with the cards. This afternoon I decided to try to kill two birds with one stone and ease myself back into more regular tarot reading/blogging by pulling a few cards from my all-time favorite deck, the Nusantara tarot. 

So - some advice about what to do about getting out of this negative/unproductive state I seem to be stuck in lately...

It's funny how illuminating a simple two card draw can be. After looking at these for a few moments, I realized that what I have is both the a description of the crux of the issue, and a general guide to the solution.

The World card, of course, represents accomplishment, self-improvement, fulfillment. It shows the unity of various aspects of the self, and celebrates what this can achieve. It is ostensibly the 'goal' towards which one strives, and in this context, it certainly represents a better head-space than the one I've been in of late. What's interesting here, however, is that here it appears first, the position suggesting foundation rather than endpoint.

One the other hand, we have the Eight of Cups. The traditional RWS imagery of this card always brings to mind nostalgia for me. This card speaks of the things you walk away from, the things you might desperately miss but need nonetheless to leave behind.  In the Thoth, this card is titled Indolence - that too fits, indicative of the consequences of not turning your back. The alternative of moving forward is to wallow... a self-indulgence whether it be laziness, self-pity or whatever else. The card is not, however, all about the those cups the man walks away from - the point is also the mountains he is walking towards, the new path forward and toward the unknown.

That image, following (rather than preceding) the World card, points to the crux of the message for me here, I think: that I need movement and forward momentum to thrive. Most of all, I need to feel that what I am doing serves some kind of purpose, brings me closer to achieving something, makes a difference to someone, improves the world around me, or equips me to better do those things in the future... something. Without that, regardless of whether what I am actually doing day to day is enjoyable, and regardless of whether the people around me are awesome and supportive... on a fundamental level I struggle with feeling unhappy and unmotivated. Without something external that is meaningful enough to set up life around everything just feels...endlessly pointless. Why bother trying and why bother writing and why even bother eating for that matter? It becomes a vicious cycle, deepening and perpetuating the rut, the negative thoughts, the weight of inaction.

Also, more literally, movement, in the sense of travel and exploring and experimenting with new things - these are the experiences that inspire me most. By best memories, the times I enjoyed life and everything around me the most are by far those from when I was traveling and visiting other countries - Tunisia, Egypt, Sweden...

Given that...well. Since finishing my grad program, I haven't had that sense of working towards a goal and doing something I love the way I did with my studies. There is no structure to time and activity to guide me, no reading or discussion or learning with career in mind to inspire me. Instead there is job searching that becomes more discouraging and difficult to do the longer it goes on, and too much time wasted on meaningless if enjoyable in the moment pursuits. I need external responsibilities in order to have that sense of forward movement. Not sure how to remedy the situation in the short term, but it is the only solution that makes sense. I cannot just exist, just be - my brain equates that with being a waste of space, my mind becomes bored, and my more self-destructive tendencies strengthen.

 I need to find a reason to move forward, something that allows me to feel that sense of movement, - an impetus to leave behind some of that negativity. Motion, forward motion...

2014: Another Year, Another Year Card

It's been a bit of a while now, since I seriously worked with the cards on any kind of regular basis. It was only when I finally dragged myself to the local tarot greet meetup last Saturday for the first time since last fall that I even remembered to think on the new year, and the new year card that comes with it.

Last year, the card of focus was the Hanged Man. It was a bit of a funny year, really. I intereworked and I moved, I wrote a thesis and struggled to finish my masters program. Yet, in many ways, it was a year of stasis. For a large part of it, I could not bring myself to work with the cards, though I missed it. The future loomed, and yet was not immediate. I tried and struggled, got so stressed I could not eat or sleep for three days, and yet still - was not able to finish my thesis work by the end of December as I should have done.

(Later there were profuse apologies, a polite, professional sort of groveling, an extension into the new year granted.)

6 + 27 + 2014 = 2047, added together gives us 13. Death is the card of the new year. Given that I've only gotten around to writing this entry now, in April, I do already have some insight into how 2014 might be influenced and guided by this particular major...

I fell in love with the Silicon Dawn's depiction of Death from the moment I first set eyes on in, even using it as an avatar on various corners of the internet, something I rarely do with tarot imagery as a rule. The monotone palette is perfect appropriate, and yet, even with such limited colors, this card feels far more vibrant and dynamic than the more traditional image seen in so many other decks: not the reaper on a horse, or standing still, scythe in hand. Here, Death leaps through rain that washes away the old even as it nourishes the start, here and there, of new life. Death advances, illuminated by moonlight, and below other, more human figures run, ride forward too. A flood, destruction, so many things wiped away and yet what you see and focus on is the sense of movement and forward momentum, the sheer energy shown so clearly.

Death is not so dire a card, newcomers to tarot are so often told, and indeed. Like the ouroboros snake I have tattooed onto my wrist as a reminder, Death too is a card not only of ends but of beginnings, of doors and gates that you move through, of the things you leave behind and the things you move forward into. We transform and we become, and what we think we know changes, and we are reminded again and again, that nothing is permanent, nothing lasts, all things must come to an end.

Last year did not feel uneventful, and yet, even in these first three months of 2014, there have been such great leaps of change. I did finish the thesis, albeit a bit later than I'd have liked. I graduated, my time as a student once more at an end. The real world, the need to find a real job, to pay those loans, to be a proper adult is more immediate, has settled in - a heavy, unpleasant weight.

That is though, in truth, by far the lesser of transformations - that was expected, the logical conclusion to the last two and a half years. No, what has me reeling was the fact that I, so very much an I Don't Do Relationships person for so very long, suddenly find myself involved in something very real. Not a brief, casual fling devoid of feeling, this, but rather a connection involving the heart, that fickle, vulnerable thing. A new year began and a friendship became something more; with it, the realization that someone could see the strangest, most disturbed, most difficult aspects of who I am, a decade's worth of scars, and still love me, want me. I found that I could feel the same.

And so, already my outlook and the way I interact with the world around me has been radically altered. On both counts, the end of some things brings with it stress, doubt, difficulty; it also brings unexpected joys, be that enjoying the touch of a person you love, or having the time to play a video game you enjoy without guilt for the first time in over two years.

Really, I don't know whether I should be excited or terrified to see what else the rest of this Death year might bring...

stillness, change and choices

It's interesting, how still the two of disks feels in this deck, seemingly devoid of movement. In the traditional RWS image, and in many decks based off of it, you see a man juggling coins, pentacles, trying to keep them in the air. It requires a good bit of effort, that - dexterity, coordination, sheer energy.

Here, instead, you have a motionless figure, with two coins covering its eyes. It's not an unfamiliar image - the ancient Greeks and Romans used to do that, coins on the eyes to pay the ferryman to the underworld, and it is a myth and custom that is referenced commonly enough to this day, in stories, movies, tv shows. So you have a that, suggesting lifelessness, passing, but then the figure is green, with vines and leaves extending across the forehead, the cheeks. Is that not spring, renewal, birth and growth of a sort?

One coin is silver and one coin is gold - right and left, dexter and sinister, yameen and yasaar. One coin has the two-headed picture of Janus - another reference to antiquity. He was, apparently, the god of beginnings and ends, doorways, passages, gates and time. The other coin has an owl carved into it - a reference to wisdom perhaps, wisdom and a bird capable of the freedom of flight.

The thoth calls this card Change, and change see here, yes, in stillness. It is not a kind of change that necessarily brings to mind this cards, traditionally, rather than say, Death. Life begins and ends and if you do burial than yes, eventually your remains might fertilize the earth and some kind of flora might sprout forth in the same place, but usually this card refers to more immediate, more mundane change - the ones you yourself have to make, the ones in your grasp. Choices and decisions and juggling all the things on your plate.

As it so happens, in my case, right now, this card is apt.

Sometimes you can get so overwhelmed with despair, or resignation, or frustration, ennui, exhaustion, whatever you want to call it. It spins around your head and the temptation to just give up is so strong, except you can quite bring yourself to go there, but the pull of it is paralyzing in a way and it is so difficult to get anything done.

Sometimes, the unconventional, extreme type approach is the most helpful: narrow it down to a simple choice, with two options, two coins. Stillness or motion - give up or get to work, but pick one and do it right now, right here, right in this moment.

Not insignificant, I think, that I would pull this card alongside the Star. The recommended choice and change is pretty clear, here. Bathed in a kind of intense, red light, the woman walks through what looks like it could be an ordinary field, but could also be one made of so many vaguely sketched people. She walks forward, and keeps walking.

love of work

Do what you love, and love what you do.

It's the kind of overly-cliched, happy-dandy can do phrase I instinctively tend to shy away from, and yet on the whole I find the advice to be quite true. The artisan in this card-image is making wonderful, detailed engravings on the wall. His work impresses the spectators, perhaps his clients or patrons, but it likely isn't why he does it. So much effort goes into what he does: could a person sustain that, day after day, if the process and the end result didn't fill him with some kind of joy?

It's always been my tendency to excel in the things that I love, and to neglect those I don't necessarily get along with. My grades in high school were a very clear case in point: consistently near-perfect marks in subjects I enjoyed, like history, english, various electives; near-failing marks in those I did not - math, chemistry, physics. I really do believe that a large part of why my overall academic performance has been so much higher in college and now graduate school is because at this level, it is much easier to simply avoid things that you don't want to study (I took symbolic logic to fill a math requirement, in undergrad).

I do good academically because I genuinely love the process of discussion, reading, research, writing - enough to drive me forward even when things get insanely stressful, when the work just piles on. It takes so much more discipline to stick to something you don't have a passion for. But then, should you? Life being short as it is, is it worth it spending time working on things you have no love for, if your circumstances don't necessitate it? Persistence isn't always a virtue. Even if it may feel like failure, perhaps sometimes it is best to simply walk away.

On the other hand, a reminder too, here, about the importance of continuing to engage in activities I love, of combining productivity with pleasure, things I enjoy. The creative aspect of this picture especially come to mind - yesterday afternoon, I picked up my camera for the first time in many months. The cherry blossom trees are blooming again, and they make for such lovely pictures. I took many. Photography is one of the things I love doing, when the mood strikes me - perhaps it is one of those things I should try to do more of...

on charging forward, and refusing to see

So, seems like I feel like going another round with a deck I quite very much liked last time I worked with it...the Swedish Witch.

We have in this draw the Knight of Swords and the Ten of Wands - and rather strong a contrast, in terms of the mood and the color palette of the two cards.

The knight moves forward over clouds, confidently seated in his chariot and pulled by so many angelic children with their little wings and bright purple hair. They seem to be enjoying the work, not yet seeing it as a burden. The knight has a sunflower-shaped hat and the real sun shining behind him, his sword held firmly upright. He charges forward, optimistic, excited, convinced of his purpose and his ability to fulfill it.

Next to that, we have quite another scene entirely. A bonfire, a pyre made of wands, and a man in the center of it, tied naked to a stake as he burns. Whereas in the first card to two birds made up the side and handrests of the knight's mighty chariot, here they fly into the fire, into the same destruction that he is already doomed to. The fairies and hedgehogs are smarter, getting away while they can, preparing to start anew elsewhere. Will they learn a lesson from this, in the way that the man, the knight could not?

It's funny that I would draw these cards today, when I have just spent the last two days or so finishing readings assignments for one of my classes about the Second Indochina War - that is to say, Vietnam. It's so much a part of our culture, the historical memory around that time, even for those of us who weren't alive yet, who parents were then far and away from this country...

Do the reading, it is mind-boggling how very much these two cards can be seen as representing the approach of the US military (and army in particular) to war. Military leaders that forged on into the conflict, supremely convinced that there methods were right, would provide a quick victory. Lots of soldiers and firepower had won WW2 had they not? They didn't listen to those who would say - but this isn't the same kind of war at all. They did not seek out advice or listen when it was preferred from other militarizes who had fought very similar conflicts quite recently. When things went wrong they refused to analyze why, refused any suggestion that there approach was not the right one. More soldiers is what we need, more purple haired children to send into the fray, so self-assured that they refused to even acknowledge the fire until far after the situation might be salvageable and how many on all sides had died...disaster, oppression, burdens.

And then, US forces withdrawn, the Army proceeded to PURGE almost all the material on lessons learned from their training and curriculum. Why focus on what we did wrong when we can comfort ourselves with what we  know we can do well, conventional wars against proper governments on terrain we like.

Years later history repeats. Iraq, and the oft-cited comparison to Vietnam is not so melodramatic from a certain perspective. The supreme over-confidence of deeply mistaken or misguided high level leaders - Westmoreland or Rumsfeld, so much the same - a refusal to believe things might not go right because that is how we SEE them going and of course we are RIGHT and of course we can the children forward to the front, more and more of them. The missed opportunities, refusing to recognize the problem until it had already gone very deeply aflame indeed. A classmate of mine last week reminisced about being deployed in Baghdad in the months after the initial invasion, seeing disgruntled former soldiers with guns in an area that would later become a hotbed of anti-US insurgency, and having no one ask what is going on there, no one collect information or act concerned or think about what this might become...

The costs of refusing to see what you don't want to see, of not thinking through all possible scenarios, of not recognizing your own shortcomings, weaknesses, mistakes. So often it isn't only you that can hurt - moreso for leaders, sure, but even on a smaller scale. Not all disasters can be avoided, of course, but so too not all are inevitable.

different kinds of balance

In this particular take on the justice card we have a scale, unbalanced it would see, or perhaps simply in the process of swinging back and forth. We have a card of contrasts and juxtaposition: light and darkness, clear skies and raging storms, peaceful nature the man-made cities, towers, factories. What does it mean to have all of them portrayed just so? The hand move holds what looks to be a clock pointing at the number twelve, noon and midnight, beginnings and ends.

Balance... it was equilibrium that I focused on so many times last year, with Justice as my year card. Balance, the idea of trying to be even-handed, of trying to find that right place in between extremes, of adjusting and carefully weighing and getting it all to just enough, yes, enough.

Life isn't all about things we can balance out through or own efforts though, is it? Part of this 'Justice' and weighing is more in the grand scheme...that some experiences will be balanced out by others, that painful events sometimes lead to good ones, that personal failings we have, but also talents...and so on. People often say things along the lines of evil or suffering being necessary, that there would be no light without darkness, no appreciation of the good times without the bad, and so on.

True enough, I find, though perhaps not as comforting a notion as sometimes put forward to be. There have been times when I have found very much amusement and pleasure from such insignificant things, if only because there was nothing else I could laugh about or focus on. These days...simple moments, the most pedestrian of experiences and such strong appreciation, satisfaction in what someone else might see as utterly unremarkable.

You appreciate how nice it is to go on a walk through a city you like, to enjoy the weather and look around at your surroundings without quite that constant background of gloom, idle fantasies (of say, throwing yourself in front of a car)t hat you could never quite chase away so familiar, ignored and unspoken, same old same old.

You feel so accomplished when you calmly finish a task a few hours or even days ahead of a deadline, rather than staring unable to think or write until it gets so late that you begin to panic as you think of the consequences of failure, of disappointing people, and then stay up for two days straight, not letting yourself do anything else, crying from stress as you make yourself write and write desperately.

You find it to be so wonderfully ordinary when you can let yourself sit in a coffee shop for a few hours alone, drinking a coffee and eating an oatmeal and reading for school because it is such a contrast to so many other experiences, an illusion of sorts and a glimmer of feeling what other people feel when in fact you have not known what it means to eat a normal meal like a normal person since you were fourteen years old and still don't, really.

A constant state of storm certainly does make clear sky days so much more amazing, but perhaps the same would also be true in reversed. Ordinarily I hate rainy days. So much inconvenience, forgetting umbrellas or proper shoes and spending hours wet and cold. It rained once during the ten weeks I spent in Tunisia and I ran out onto the balcony to feel it, because it felt so amazing, after so long without...

Darkness and light and a scale that tips back and forth, back and forth. Justice and balance and what can we have, if not all of both? Is there a way to have the convenience of factory produced gadgets without killing off all those beautiful whales swimming in the sea?

perils of the dreamy-eyed

We have here my first proper draw from a rather different deck I recently acquired - the Songs for the Journey Home Mini. Unlike the other circular deck I once had (Circle of Life), this one is small enough that it shuffles quite comfortably, and can be used for larger spreads without taking up too much space. Usually my preference is against completely redone titles, but every so often I do make an exception...

The image and title of the first card make for a rather different take, but the concept remains a familiar one. Wave Awakening, or the Knight of Cups in regular court terms, represents the idea of the dreamy-eyed romantic, a person overcome by passion, idealized ideas of what is or what should be. He rushes forward, dives into the waves so full of that lust, ready to see what he wants to see. The water must be warm and deep,  rich with rainbow-colored tones and just waiting to wrap him in its embrace. Everything will be perfect, in this starry-eyed vision of the world. It is a vision full of "should" and "fair", things imagined in so much detail, a sort of narrow, stubborn focus.

The Five of Waves songs, as the Cups suit is called, shows where such an attitude can so often lead to - disappointment, disillusionment, misery and moping. Even here, the way of looking at the world is not much changed: unhappy, but still with those ideas about how things should be, that perfectly imagined dream at the center of everything even if now it is broken to pieces and scattered across the floor. Look at those tea cups - pretty, with elaborate designs and vivid colors painted on. No doubt an expensive set; a sturdier set, with cups enough to spare for the occasional accident, could have been purchased at a far lower cost. But that, of course, would not have been living the dream, the romanticized idea of what life ought to look like and include. Now, instead of thinking pragmatically on how to move forward, how to clean up and continue on and learn what lessons can be learned from the mess in front of him, the figure merely stands and sobs, weeps. Woe is me he says, stares at what is spilt, broken, done with.

Though most of us have (unfortunately) encountered individuals who truly personify this outlook, and though we may be far more sensible than that by and large...most people, I think, struggle with this tendency sometimes, in some particularly area of their lives. The idea of the perfect relationship that never seems to work out, the job that is never what you are looking for in a job, the kid who doesn't act or look like the kid you always wanted to have...it can be many things. It's a struggle, to retain our optimism and dreams without falling into the trap of over-romanticizing things. It is hard to fully internalize and accept, without bitterness, certain simple facts: that the world does not owe you anything, that there are no real measures of what is 'right' in a partner or a job or anything else that are the same for all, that what you want to be is quite often not what is or what can be, that some things will simply never work out and that fairness has very little indeed to do with how things in the world tend to work out.

It is difficult to learn and to remember this: how to see the world for how it really is and still dive, not into some imagined, gleaming pool but rather into waves that you know are frigid and turbulent, will have you shivering, kicking and flailing madly just to stay afloat; to see the broken cup and simply sigh, pick up the pieces and toss them, bring out the mop, brew more tea and pour it again. It takes time to learn to drink from chipped and cracked mugs without that melancholy regret.

traps and being stuck

These three were part of a slightly larger casual reading I did for myself this morning. I thought the similarities in theme, differences in degrees were interesting to ponder a bit...

A bit of a bizarre scenario here, in this four of cups. It has a bit of an Alice in Wonderland type vibe, between, the juxtaposition of the fancy dresses, the sport turf next to the fireplace, the strange creature leaning over the chair with a class of something.

The woman at the center of the image holds a glass of wine. Her posture is that of dissatisfaction, boredom, apathy. We could call this scenario fascinating or uncomfortable, but the fact is, for her, the person in it, it isn't working. She doesn't want to be here, doing this.

She doesn't want to, or is indifferent. Dissatisfaction and yet she sits, keeps sipping from the glass. Ponders what she would rather be doing, but without actually getting up from the chair. Easier to sit and mope than to take action, create change.

Traps that aren't really traps except to the degree that we make them so. Times when we hold ourselves back out of lazyness, uncertainty, insecurity, caution. The trap that the path of least resistance can create. Perhaps change isn't even so hard to achieve here, but well - it won't happen without some effort, determination, will.

In the ten of swords we have a rather different image - a picture of despair, defeat, resignation. A woman sits in the middle of the floor, her dress pinned down by swords, another dangling just above her head. She sobs, face in her palms. Further away we see a letter, a bloodstained pen - and bits of red dripping from her hands onto her dress.

Was this a letter she received, some terrible news? Or was it a note she herself was trying to write, perhaps a last, melodramatic goodbye? What's interesting here is that, unlike in the classic RWS image, she isn't dead, isn't stabbed in the back ten times. Alive still but unmoving, ready to accept that fate, the final sword falling down onto her. There is no struggle left, only tears.

Why is that? This card is called Ruin in the Thoth. Ruin is painful, yes, dramatic, but does it have to be final? Are things truly as bad as all that? Despair and hopelessness - how they can paralyze you, blind you to any other options, possibilities, paths. Perhaps things aren't really so grim. Perhaps something can be rebuilt, or salvaged. But one needs to raise those eyes and look around first to find out.

Last perhaps is most difficult a way of being stuck. Another quite interest Devil image, we have in this deck: we see the goat hooves, ears, that goat that stands so central in the Thoth card. Here though it is anthropomorphized, woman and beast both. She wear's a fancy stage magicians garb, all show and effect. Not just the outfit too - the entire room we she is carefully decorated, classy with its tapestries, the detailed finishes on the walls. Black and white everywhere, two sides, stark contrasts.

Showy magician with so much control, sitting in the lotus position, balancing on her tail, almost floating. The barely visible occult circle hovers around her, behind her, power and danger you do not see until too late. The two human figures in her case must dance, perform like puppets. You cannot even see the string or chains that might bind them, control them. Whereas in the previous image, the woman could maybe move away if she would just stop sobbing and move the swords that seem so impossible to escape, here we have...the illusion of freedom, ease. We could stop it if we wanted. We could walk away if we wanted. If we wanted. Except the power of her influence is so strong, and the world beyond so frightening...and then, perhaps, trying to walk away and finding that it not so easy at all. Try and fail and try and fail. The devil does not care for our struggle. She floats and tempts and controls with so much confidence.

memory of games

What does it mean - to win, to succeed, to level up?

There are quite a few extra cards, optional, that come with the Silicon Dawn. Being rather traditional with my tarot preferences, I kept most of them out, but the 99's were among those I kept. The culmination of a suit, its essence developed, a sort of opposite to the Ace. The king can be seen that way, is in many decks, but in a way this idea makes more sense - Like the Ace, this is a card representing forces, situations, opportunities rather than people, the personal.

Fire-Disks, the practical in life combined with energy, light, destructive potential. The metaphor in this card is a great example of why this deck so very much appeals to me. I grew up playing video games - Sega Genesis, SNES, several generations of playstations and gameboys and computer games. Books you could get for free from the library, huge stacks of them - video games were what saving up money was for. You fight and walk and solve puzzles and dig around in virtual garbage cans for hidden treasures.

My favorite games were the ones where you could customize your character. Pick a race, a class, skills to put points into. When you leveled up you could further specialize: would you be fast, or strong? Shoot fireballs, or learn to heal yourself and save a ton on potions? In some games, later on, you would have many characters on your team for storyline reasons, and you had to further choose which ones would be the ones you fought with, developed, allowed to level up again and again.

There were the difficult games where you had to grind - to walk around in certain areas fighting monsters again and again to gain experience, go up levels until you were finally strong enough to face this or that boss without being defeated. There were games where you had to strategize how to develop your character, what would help against this or that opponent. Brute force? Picking them off at a longer range? Status effects, attrition?

I still remember my first ever computer game. It was called Rise and Rule of Ancient Empires. You picked a civilization, built cities and roads and armies. I liked being the Indian empire best because of their elephant units. Strategy there was in that, yes. Which buildings will you choose, which advantages, will you lay seige to that city, take the offensive early on or bide your time and hope your neighbor doesn't build up his forces faster than you? There were the city building games too...Egypt, Ancient Greece. You start with a few hovels and farms, and expand. Build temples, mines, bathhouses, theaters, tax collector's offices. A garden next to houses will allow them to evolve, a mine will lower the property value - even in video games no one wants to live next to a mine. Can you level up that city enough, build the infrastructure needed to harvest the resources that will allow you to advance to the next part of the game?

You would calculate and think, in those games, trial and error. Trade offs, budgeting, this for that and you can never have everything. I played three generations of Sims games and even now my thinking about interpersonal relations is so very influenced by them - sometimes I imagine those bright green bars indicating hygeine level, social need, energy. The bars that showed relationships. Talk on the phone to advance, except if you don't have a strong enough relationship that person will not want to talk to you on the phone. Have you leveled up your skills, schmoozed with your coworkers and boss enough to gain a promotion?

In media video games often get so much flak - the violence, the time waste, the people with the
'video game addiction' and 'no life'. They are not mindless though, not all or even most. I read like mad and played video games too. And life too, has leveling up, of sorts. My social skills have certainly leveled up over the years. My ability to prioritize, my confidence even. Some things still need work...even in the Sims it was rare to have, without some kind of cheating, an elder with all their skills maxed out. That was a simple game. Always you can improve, grow, use energy to become more.

Achievement and pride, but fleeting. There is always more to be done, new beginnings, chances for gain and for loss. Some skill and some hard work and sometimes, luck, or lack thereof. I remember sitting in the air-conditioned computer room in elementary school, playing Oregon Trail. Perhaps if you prepared well and chose a good course and prudent actions you would make it to your destination. Other times, you would be mauled by a bear, your comrades would catch a disease and so it goes, game over. When you can you level up, and then you keep going at it.

drifting, climbing and falling

Drifting, drifting a part of you always feels, paddling in this half-world limbo between dusk and dawn. You cradle the moon that holds and that menaces with its scorpion tale - careful, no sudden movements and always that bit of the madness the why not if it does...

The the moonlight reflects in the waters below. How deep are they, these waters? Who can really see beneath the waves, beneath the darkness and light reflected, stillness and ripples that spread across as you paddle and swim, head above and breath and breath, remember, that part it is important, yes.

There is a kind of calm here too in the stillness, the silence, the familiarity. You close your eyes. Are you tired, exhausted? Is that apathy showing, resignation to the things that cannot be changed? Or is it merely a momentary shutting of the eyelids in preparation for something else? Hard to know anything for sure. The darkness and moonlight are full of illusion, fog that covers and obscures, questions.

There is more, of course, then the Moon, the sound of splashing waves. There is the real world, the world around you that you can see and touch, explore. Here you would climb onto rooftops, work carefully, wielding those tools, building up towards...something.

So many waves here too, of a completely different sort. Invisible waves which fill the air and the sky with signal and knowledge, so much knowledge spread in so intangible a form. Waves and waves that connect you to people in little houses and windows so far away. You spread your own words and find that of others. Speak and listen and learn. How much possibility, opportunity did you gain from those waves, from voices and images broadcast over such distances? Where would you be without them?

A contrast to the moon, to isolation, to meditation with a focus on within. Here is the world, close by even when it is so very far. Here is reaching out and grasping and forcing yourself to learn to do things so you can grasp all that much more. Waves in air - you will never see them, never splash and swim in them and yet...here you are, windows open in a room, listening to a poem recited in another language as you pull cards because it is beautiful, calming.

And farther out still from yourself, from the world around you, there is space, the universe, things so large and so abstract as to be impossible to truly quantify or imagine - for you at least; you will never be a physicist, a mathematician.

Tree trunk and leaves and fire-colored flowers, earth and whimsy, fall through that space, the glittering darkness. You laugh while falling, laugh at all you cannot see and cannot control. What are you falling towards, and does it matter? In a way this space, this absence of, makes all things at once quite close and very far away indeed. Like memory - the smell of jasmine flowers, the little potted plant on your dresser starting to bloom; nostalgia for the bush that grew on the wall of your landlord's courtyard under the hot summer sun, the little boys who tried to sell necklaces and bushels of the plaited, aromatic flowers, "one dinar, one dinar". Close and far, you fall away from things and into other things and you laugh though sometimes, often you land ungracefully, with a thunk, with pain and groans.

Dreams, abstractions, ideas, memories, flights of fancy, carelessness. Which is more overwhelming - to be drifting through waters of you, you, so much you or to plunge downwards through so much vastness, the realization that you are really so very small and there is so much you will never see or know? A matter of perspective as always - you live all three at these at once, every day.

kings and knights and pondering technology

In a quite distinctly modern take on the King of Swords, we have the man piloting what looks to be a fighter jet of some sort. I say that based solely, of course, on my experiences in the Smithsonian Air and Space museum. One thing I love about DC is that there are so many completely free museums...

But yes, planes, jets, bombers. It's amazing when you think of it, how rapidly aerial technology developed. We spent thousands of years never more than dreaming of flight, and then suddenly two brothers put together a flimsy contraption that manages to take off and stay in the air. Less than two decades later planes are being used in the first world war, with stunningly high casualties for pilots. Scouting missions at first, but well...someone gets the bright idea of shooting from the plane and then everyone does it and then there is bombing, gassing, machine guns mounted on. By the second world war they are made of cold metal, different types, models worked by nascent air forces, day and night bombing, the blitz, firebombings that kill so many millions in certain cities, nuclear bombs dropped too... Now we have drones, man-less aerial craft that can go across borders, spy and kill who knows what and where and why...

Isn't he all about precision, focus, this King?  Isn't he all about coldly judging what to do, using logic, and getting it done? Efficiency, detachment.

And quite similar to the Thoth knight he is too - the same armor but now of course it is a shirt with a modern decal. Instead of the golden steed we have the jet, its windows tinted yellow, the screen in front of the knight so that he may measure, analyze, target. No more need for extended daggers and swords. Now you point and click and things are destroyed, accomplished, undone.

Now you point and click. It boggles my mind, how much of a pain focused, graduate-level academic research must have been before the advent of computers. I have a topic and I type a few words into some search engines and pull up numerous articles going back decades, pull up a list of relevant books, many of which have the parts I need available on google books, others downloadable, or easy to reserve so I only have to stop by the front desk of the library. I can pull up newspaper articles from any number of publications. I can even find documentaries in other languages, programs from the National TV station of Algeria and from Al-Jazeera, and sit back and watch. All of this in a single afternoon, and save everything that looks relevant to my oh-so-easily-searchable gmail account, and voila the bulk of the legwork for an important project is taken care of, to be continued at my leisure.

The same spirit and drive this knight has, in both depictions, and the same goals and purpose. But means change, presentation changes, even attitudes change. Technology does have its drawbacks and I think many of them have more to do with attitudes it engenders than anything else. Why memorize when you can always look up, right? And yes, in many ways memorization is not efficient these days but stretch the brain muscles it does in interesting ways, to be able to recite things at length from memory, lists of names and poems. Even worse is the way so many people use computers and tablets and such in class. I've tried it both ways, and granted, my note-taking is always questionable - but my mad doodling helps me think, and more importantly paper and pen do not offer nearly as much opportunity for distraction and shortcuts which undermine learning processes. I had a classmate in Tunisia who would look up words while speaking in class on google translate, his laptop always open, and yes so you never search for a word but you also never remember the ones you use afterwards.

But so it goes and so everyone chooses for themselves how to use the tools they have, and in many ways, if you are like the king of swords...there is so much you can do with it. There is so much possibility. You can fly so fast and so unimagineably far. Goggles and gloves and glittering wings; even with so much power, he still enjoys the experience, the forward momentum of his ability.

Lesson on Pushing Through

I've been feeling rather adrift, still, in various ways. Decided to do a quick draw with dear Thoth, with the question/theme of A lesson I ought to reflect on ...

An interesting duality in these two cards: two eights, two titles starting with an I. Interference and Indolence stand together as barriers, obstacles. In the 8 of swords we have blades of various sizes line up, crossed by two straight rapiers. All of them have a certain almost translucence quality to them, as if they were made of glass, made of something not quite real or solid. They seem to block the way to something - but what? Behind them the background seems violent, chaotic - dark violet with what looks like angry sparks of red energy. Even the air here is difficult to bear. Astrologically we have Saturn in Gemini here - that half-wild, disorganized brilliance thrown into a tizzy by a negative, unexpected influence. Communication has been disturbed, perverted, twisted until it hurts instead of helps progress. The air sign did not have a strong enough foundation, and now it spins off-course. The mind is sharp, full of wit, quick on the uptake with many things, but also terribly liable towards distraction, towards spirals of self-defeat and negativity, towards exaggerations of problems, impossibility.

In the eight of cups we have a similarly disheartening scene. The cups here stand in a symmetrical pattern still, tied with vines and flowers, but this card is far removed from some of the others in the suit. Here the cups are chipped, broken in numerous places. The lotus flowers room as if dying, perhaps poisoned or corrupted by the inky black waters below. The sky too is almost black, full or storms and cold and lack of light. Despair seems to be the mood here, and this card, like the previous, is also ruled by Saturn. Saturn in Pisces, here - deep emotion turned to melancholic, spirituality affected by hopelessness, compassion burned out. Indolence, giving up because why bother and it is easier to do nothing and simply watch things fall apart, wrapped up in dread of the inevitable. Focusing on the sorrow, the listlessness, the heavy clouds that linger always overhead.

The feeling of too many obstacles and difficulties, too much unknown and already ruined and hopeless, both on intellectual and emotional levels, could be quite problematic indeed. And what to do about that?

Go on. Push forward with chariot pulled by the confident lion, surrounded and blazing with fiery light. Light so bright that it could burn your retinas, that it could not possibly be real, you say looking at it, pondering it. Fake light, make it real because you need to to be light, fake it till you make it light and what does it matter in the end, the nature of it and where it might come from and why?

It shines, a contrast to the grim muddled darkness of the two eight cards. We have motion here, so much movement - not static despair but action, momentum. Go forward with confident air, hold wand of authority in hand and a rein, go. Push forward, through and beyond. See and feel and think of the Interference and Indolence but do not be held back by them, slowed down or stopped. Move through them, hopefully beyond them. Keep going even if they are still there. Cancer and Leo influence - creative passion, a balance of introvert and the people person facade.

He can be reckless sometimes, to a fault, but perhaps sometimes recklessness is the lesser evil: better to move wildly than to not move at all, to remain in the same, bitter place. Let restlessness drive you, harness those impulses and that inner energy and push through, even if you don't quite know where you are going.

work and rest

An interesting juxtaposition in this draw, both conceptually and visually. We have the ten of wands and the four of work - burdensome work and recuperating rest.

The former is by far the 'livlier' of the two cards. We see a youth (the androgyny/room for interpretation in so many of these cards pleases me much, I must say) trying to carry a bundle of sticks. In contrast to many depictions of this card, here we see him dropping one - leaning down to try and pick it up without dropping more. As someone who has by virtue of clumsiness and stubborness been rather literally in this position more than once, I must say it illustrates the idea of carrying too much rather well. It's not always about the weight of the load, but rather the tiresome frustration of dropping, stopping, shifting everything and trying again, going on. You can make it, yes, but it can be SUCH an annoying process. I remember once, I had the bright idea of buying two large packs of canned soda because there was a sale, knowing damn well I would have to walk with it all the way home. It wasn't a long walk, but I had to stop multiple times because my arms were literally trembling from carrying more than my muscles could deal with.

The color scheme of this card reminds me of starts or endings, of sunrise or sunset, spring or fall. They are the seasons between seasons, and in a way this creates the suggestion here of a limited time frame. Perhaps he carries it all because the tasks cannot in this case be broken up - must be done now, all now. Better planning might help avoid this situation in the future, but what has already been set in motion must be completed: roll up those trousers and trudge.

The second card, like the rest of the swords suit, is highly suggestive of winter. This figures clothes, particularly the shirt, are not so different from the firsts, if a bit fancier - but then, you don't put on your best outfit when hauling heavy things outdoors. Someone on the Aeclectic forums posted a link to a website suggesting a lot of the clothing here isn't so much randomly whimsical as it is referencing traditional Korean dress unfamiliar to most westerners - intriguing, and though I haven't had time to look into it yet, gives a shade more depth to the images in my mind.

The second figure reclines behind a kind of curtain supported by swords which seems to function here as bars of a sort. Barred windows, that extra layer of protection between him and the world outside. A few months ago I was in a car at night, randomly cutting through (and then getting a bit lost in) the Williamsburg area of Brooklyn. As a New Yorker the sight of Hasidic Jews walking around did not make much of an impression, but what really stuck out at me was the bars on the windows - almost all the windows - of the buildings in the neighborhoods, apartment complexes and brownstones both, first floor windows and those higher up. Safety from intruders, safety from falls, from the cold, the unknown?

It really is quite nice to be able to curl up indoors in the winter, in the warmth. Here the curtain barrier does not seem fully opaque. We can still see a glimpse of the outside, as can the figure who sits within. He is watching it too, pondering. No matter how nice and safe it is, venturing outside again will be necessary. So he rests and watches and plans. Perhaps in the future he can avoid ending up with quite so many sticks...

the whimsical and strange

I have to say that I really, really like the backs of the Dreaming Way tarot. That particular shade of green is one of my favorites, and the aesthetic of it as a whole...it has this vintage, 60's or 70's kind of vibe in my mind, a touch of gaudiness that just...very much appeals.

A gaudy kind of whimsy. I admit to having rather unusual tastes in some many ways. Sometimes in old houses with walls painted in white or pastel tones you can find areas where the paint has chipped off and beneath some kind of older, bright colored wallpaper with a flower design - it looks vaguely ridiculous by today's standards and I very much wish the whole of the house was still like that. As a kid I slept on sheets that came with the house my parents had bought - bright blue with bright yellow and white and green colored flowers, quite nicely drawn. It was a disappointment, later shopping for sheets in stores, to realize that such designs simply aren't sold anymore. Tacky, people might call them. So I settle for black, an all-black contrast to any room because I need that sense of the visually vivid in some form.

I would wallpaper a room with the design on the backs of these cards. I would hang such curtains in my windows.

Just about everyone who spends any amount of time with me in person, and around whom I feel comfortable enough to act like 'myself' rather than carefully work on the facade of being what you want to see, ie. 'appropriate adult', sooner or later tells me that I am strange, odd, bizarre.

Whimsy. I especially like the whimsy shown in this particular Page of Cups. It fleshes out the idea of the fish in the cup, takes it further - this cup has polka dots and she wears a tea pot on her head and the fish are swimming through the air and why not, all of this? Why not?

Whimsy. If not for the presidential inauguration making bus tickets to expensive, I would have gone to visit friends in New York for the weekend just passed. I had a brilliant idea of going to a bakery and having them decorate us a Martin Luther King day cake, and roping everyone into an impromptu MLK day party - because why not celebrate a federal holiday as you would other holidays, with cake? Why not feast on processed sugar to commemorate the accomplishments of that great civil rights pioneer?

I hate the idea of driving a car and hope I never have to, but if I did and if money was not an issue, I would totally choose to drive something odd: a tiny, clunky Eastern European car from the 1960's painted, perhaps in burgundy or a nice blue, for extra effect. I want to adopt rats and give them funny names when I move again, somewhere that allows pets. I want to one day have at least two cats, and have one of them be a hairless sphynx because they look so bizarre and it makes me squee in delight to see them. Phone conversations with closest friends tend to take very particular turns, often stemming from some random subjects I have recently used the vast power of the internet to learn about in detail: the life of bearded ladies, the unassisted childbirth movement, the process of draining abscesses, a particularly 'yucky' but highly effective treatment for chronic anti-biotic resistant bowel infections, the history of counterfeiting in the United States...

And, after all, why not?

wonders and dangers in life

The world is full of so many things - opportunities, possibilities, innumerable new experiences that can broaden your perspective, tickle your imagination, shape your memories and thoughts. There is earth and there are the things that can grow in the earth. You are born a blank slate and you live and as you do, roots and trunks and branches for, reach higher upward every year. You see paths in front of you and you follow where they may lead.

There is wonder in the world, and there is also danger, conflict, pain. There are shocks, major and minor, sudden and long-in-coming. To stay still and hidden is to see so little, and yet to venture forth is to risk. Sometimes you fall. Sometimes you watch someone else fall. Sometimes the risk is abstract and sometimes very much physical. You know this, as you know of the good. And just and so often we allow ourselves to take for granted the small joys we can find in life...so too do we minimize those dangers.

Every so often something happens to remind you of their existence: you spend an evening sitting on your living room floor giving your roommate ice and watching as a veritable stream of police walk in and out, take questions and statements, photographs. You listen to him say in disbelieve how does something like that happen right in front of your own house?

But such is the nature of life, of the World. There is always a balance, between withdrawing into yourself and engaging, between knowing your potential and using it, between guarding yourself or letting your hands be free to touch, to feel and explore and learn. Safety in the familiar or risk in the unknown - the exact measure and choice is different for everyone. You try to do what you an to make your own life and fulfilling and you can, as complete. I don't deny being reckless, to some degree. There are things I simply don't care about though I should, and there is that always burning curiosity, to see and do and run far...

Once upon a few years ago you spent a final week abroad walking around by yourself in a large foreign city because you wanted to BE there, to experience, to really see. You tell people about this, about how much you enjoyed those days, those long walks alone. You do not mention, usually, that one day among many - the restaurant and the waiter who followed you into the bathroom, who kept touching you and trying to hug you and kiss you as you writhed and said no and tried to get him to unblock the door; he did finally, and then followed you several blocks after you quickly paid and fled. It was unfortunate but it is a risk you take and such is life sometimes. You want to go somewhere strange and you do, and mostly it is amazing. You think someone is a mentor or friend and time spent with them is great until it's really not. So it goes.

So it goes and so you live where you do because you decided to spend a summer in an amazing place and thus only had a week to find somewhere to live that you could afford. So things happen, and yes, to be on guard, to be aware and ready to defend yourself if needed is good, but only to a degree. What is the point of living if you live in fear? What is the point if you make a list of so many things that sound amazing but that you will not do because there is risk? That is not achieving the concepts the world represents - for some perhaps there is no conflict, but everyone is different.

Guard but not too much, against the World. It has risks and and has wonders and to chase possibility means to encounter both.

New deck free-writing exercise

This one is an exercise I thought of doing myself. In a lot of [creative] writing classes, instructors like to introduce the idea of 'free-writing' - essentially, stream of thought type writing. You take a prompt and you set a specific time frame, usually five or ten minutes, and you literally DO NOT STOP the entire time, just write write write and see what your brain pops out. I thought it would be a nice way to warm up to working with one of my recently acquired (and trimmed!) decks, the Dreaming Way Tarot. In this case, I shall give myself about ten minutes for each of the two cards I've drawn.
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I got this even though I feel that I have enough RWS tradition decks already because the art in some many of the cards enchanted me - something about the whimsical, fantasy-story nature of the images which nonetheless are not - unlike the Hanson-Roberts or Whimsical tarots - too childish or 'fluffed up'. The odd touches call to me, as odd things usually do. Like to like...

This devil is a perfect example. A female devil, which is fairly unusual (the only other deck that immediately comes to mind is the Victorian Romantic) who is wearing, of all things, a bright white dress. A modest white dress, at that. There is a straightjacket over it, however - what does that mean? Is the Devil herself, though holding the chains of the human pair, trapped and constrained? Or is is simply an affectation, a preference? I can think of two contexts for such bondage: mental health institutions in the recent past and the BDSM community. Repression or fetish or both?

She is dressed and the humans are naked, bare to the world. Nudity as vulnerability, clothes as power? When Europeans started colonizing the world they thought of many other cultures as savage for, among other things, they did not wear 'civilized' clothes. Look at the paintings of old, royalty wearing so many elaborate garments they could barely move. When cloth was expensive that was what power was. Today, celebrities wear next to nothing on magazine covers and that next to nothings still costs more than most outfits you or I could afford and so it goes. So much and so little changes over years.

A final observation - the two chained people, they are holding hands, clasped together, comforting each other. They have solidarity even in this dilemma. It is generally easier to bear things when you are not alone with them, isn't it? The reason why solitary confinement has always been seen as the harshest of punishments. Does the devil not care about this subversion, or is she too tied up to notice or stop them?

In contrast to the constraints, restrictions, chains in the devil, in the Two of Wands we see the familiar image of possibility, potential. The man is wearing white too but his garments are not so stiff - rather there are odd strings pillowing in the breeze, and checkered pants. He holds a globe in his hand, the world, all the places a person could see and go. The wands stand before him in the shape of a door.

Where will he go, then? This way or that, for him to decide and proceed; you can just barely see what seems to be a split in the road before him, two paths in different directions. In freedom, too, there is limitation: you cannot have everything, see all that there is to see. There isn't enough time, enough energy even for all of it. Jack of all trades master of none, they say about those who like to dabble and flit between this and that.

Potential needs energy, action to fill it out and make it real. Perhaps here on the right there are buildings, towers and houses, on the left there is fog and road and woods, and each have their advantages, different for each individual, but you cannot split yourself in half, go each way at once. In gaining you must also lose, let go, walk away. And after that, what good does looking back do, wondering if perhaps it was the other way that would have been best, questioning? Perhaps in real life not so bad as to turn you into a pillar of salt at a glimpse but nonetheless - a sort of chain.

If the thick stiff gown of the devil represents her overbearing power, the restriction inherent in dealings with her, and the nudity of her two subjects shows their vulnerability and desperation, then this man's clothes...we see individuality, a refusal to conform to any set traditions, the willingness to do something new. Who wears a hat with such straps, or checkered pants, or so many very long ribbons on their shirt? Not all are good ideas but that willingness to experiment, to do as you like and not care what people may think...admirable in its own way.

2013 Year Card

2012 was a Justice year for me, and overall I found the year card exercise at the start of the year useful. Not so much predictive, per se, as guiding. The idea of seeking equilibrium throughout the year stuck with me, and helped me figure out some things. 2012 was definitely more about balance than any possible legalistic interpretations of the card, as I had thought right off - fortunately I do not currently have any legal issues to deal with.

That said, I thought I would do this again. For 2013, my year card is the Hanged Man.

I admit that the prospect of the Hanged Man as a year card does not immediately fill me with excitement: a year of hanging, suspension, feeling stuck in place? That does not exactly sound like what I am seeking to achieve. But of course, that is only one of many takes on the hanged man. This is a card associated with the water element, as the de la Rea here shows. Water is flexible, associated with dreams and emotions, depths, the obscure, neither fully solid nor gaseous.

The Hanged Man is associated in many tarot texts with the Norse god Odin, the AllFather, who hung himself from a tree for nine days in order to obtain runes, the key to all knowledge. He sacrificed his body, his power in exchange for that wisdom. He did not fight that sacrifice, did not try to cheat or find some kind of alternative. No, like this major shows in almost all decks: he hung with serenity, with acceptance of the situation as is.

Acceptance and even hanging do not have to mean stasis, doing nothing, giving up. Again, the reminder that all things have a cost - currently I am sitting on a bus driving back to DC. I am intensely motion sick and I am watching a very beautiful sunset while going over a bridge that enchants me from an aesthetic architectural perspective. Most things are like this, pros and cons. I could sleep and feel good and lose time and miss out on many lovely sights. Costs, decisions. Sometimes we reach a crossroads, a certain point where yes, there is stasis, repetition, doing the same thing again and again long after we have grown tired of it. What then?

A willingness to let go is called for - of the familiar, of the comfortable, and of control and distrust, at least to some degree. The hanged man in the Corte dei Tarocchi is particularly interesting to me in that he is not hanging from a branch or tree but rather from a rope of leaves held in the beak of two birds. How absurd! How could he believe that they would hold him up? He does though - he is willing to place himself in that position, and calmly.

The figure here is upside down, and at first glance it's easy to think that maybe we have drawn this card reversed. That is the spirit of this card too - the energy to turn things on their head, to look outside the box, the established way of doing things. You hang between realms and between phases of life. You let go and you find, grasp. The key is the serenity, the acceptance. This is not sacrifice for its own sake - there is a reason for this, something for which to strive.

In a way this image is not unlike a butterfly or moth still cocooned, waiting beneath the waves with held in breath. I used to do that too, as a kid. I liked to dive into parts of pools that were twice as deep as I was tall even though I couldn't really swim and I liked to hold my breath under the water for as long as I could, until my lungs burned. Why? It felt freeing. There is freedom in the way that you can move underwater even though, of course, all swims and baths must come to an end.

And so, a year under the Hanged Man's influence. A year for development and growth, sacrifice and letting go and finding the new, the better, the wiser and more fulfilling. A year for thinking differently, for stepping away from some of those careful caveats and limits of what you will do, for acting within a frame of acceptance - of self and of situation, of how things are and how things could be and what must be done to bridge the two. Of not only weighing out those costs but taking them on in self-awareness. Strength within constraint.

a juxtaposition

The woman in this picture stands in her garden, pruning the bright yellow rosebush. I do like the color of the roses - not bright red or even pink, no romance or dramatic gestures. No, we have yellow, a neutral color, good for many occasions. The woman's dress is loose, allowing for more movement than that of many others in this deck, from that time period. She can move and work, bring out the full potential for beauty in her flowers.

Roses tend to be finicky plants, especially the kind pictured here, the ones we most appreciate in bouquets and arrangements. They require patience and perseverance of effort. You work and you wait for that work to mean something, to show. It takes time and a certain amount of faith - in your own gardening abilities and in the idea that you will be around to reap the rewards of your labors. Is it worthwhile, what we are doing? The roses certainly do look nice in this image.

Sometimes it isn't so easy to be sure; things get in the way, cloud your vision, fill your mind with more possibilities and calculations and fear than you know what to do with. Sometimes the absence of certainty and of roses to remind you of how beautiful the world can be can feel too heavy a weight.This card struck a cord even in the first edition but in this updated image especially...

This was me, once. A few years ago, my last semester of college... I would climb out from my dorm room window to the ledges that led up to the the roof. It would be in the dead of night when almost no one is already up or still not asleep, when I knew there would be no one to see. I would stand at the ledge and debate with myself whether it was time, whether I was ready to do it. Not if it was a good idea or what I wanted, but rather - was now the time? Was it ok yet?

Stand and stare down, racing thoughts and a distinct lack of clear emotion...and step back. Night after night, I would stand on a ledge under a darkened sky and finally step back - go inside and get back to writing and writing that thesis, those papers, always so much work. I never told anyone about these nocturnal escapades and soon graduated with some fancy latin words besides my degree. Sometimes, later, I would wish that I had let myself fall.

These days I mostly try to focus on the roses. May the new year bloom, in many colors.