Reading Dec 12

Card reading, sometimes called cartomancy, is an art and skill. There is no “right answer” when looking at a given set of cards, and each reader brings to the interpretation their own framework for analysis.

This card combo touches on something every spiritual practitioner should be aware of, which is the origins and nature of their ritual practice.

The seven of swords (featured here in the Brady Tarot as arrows) is a card of wanting to escape responsibility. Paired with music, it has the distinct vibe of someone side-stepping off stage while whistling to convince the audience of their innocence. It is fiddling while the Titanic sinks (or Rome burns, pick your classic metaphor).

It is my ongoing journey as a wh!te woman to develop an authentic spiritual practice that does not appropriate from the marginalized people and cultures whom I ultimately hope to assist with my work.

One thing I can definitively say is that if a group of historically marginalized people points to a given activity as appropriation, AND offers education about the roots of the practice, AND does not ask you to stop the practice but simply to acknowledge its origins, then failing to do so is not only disrespectful but racist.

As a wh!te practitioner, it is my responsibility to acknowledge the role of, for example, Roma people and culture in the development of tarot as a divination practice not because I have personally thoroughly researched the subject but because Roma people fervently ask this of modern tarot readers.

The same is true of any number of practices, from smudging using endangered sage to collecting crystals at the expense of the environment. The point here is not to “sneak out the back door” because as white practitioners, we can. We can disappear into privilege and continue to profit off of the appropriation of tools and methodology that people of marginalized cultures have literally died for practicing.

That kind of ignorance will only perpetuate the status quo of wh!te supremacist power. We must be rooted in awareness of our own shadow, our cultural bias, in order to grow.

Deck: Healing with the Angels Oracle and The Brady Tarot

Today’s Energy 12-3-20

Today’s Energy 12-3-20

Our message of being true to oneself and one’s vision for the future continues today. The three of acorns (wands) and Seraphinite gem suggests that we need to be honest with ourselves about what is required to achieve our dreams.

I am a big dreamer. So much so that I have difficulty grounding myself. With a lack of earth elements in my natal chart, I find myself swinging between water and fire, fueled by the excitement of initiation and disappointed by the reality that my ideas will actually take work (eew) to come to fruition. I want to feel my ideas into reality. It is hard for me to manifest because I am out of touch with the physical material of manifestation.

In order to make the kind of contribution toward a better tomorrow that I desire, I must own up to and learn to work with my basic nature. This means acknowledging my powerful charisma, compassion, and empathy alongside my perfectionism, jealousy, and stubborn tendency to only see things my way.

True growth requires an honest exploration of our own strengths and shortcomings without blaming others for how we deal with them. Sure, there are reasons why we act the way we do and many of these are trauma-based. But no one else holds the key to healing because we can only control our own actions. No one is going to provide us with salvation from our own problematic behavior. They may offer solutions or, alternately, throw up roadblocks to hinder our progress. Ultimately, we alone are responsible for the honest reflection necessary to deal with reality.

There are undoubtedly better days over the horizon, and the cards seem to be telling us again and again to get ready, to do the work, to clear space and to open up to the possibilities that head our way. Being honest with what you need to do your best is one way to prepare for what ever the future may bring.

Deck: Eternal Crystals Oracle and Spiritsong Tarot

Time’s Siren

photo by author: Luther Burbank House, Santa Rosa, CA

Time only moves
in one direction
ringing into the future
like a siren,
like a cowbell.

Trapped in a house of nostalgia,
the past reaches like a vine
climbing and clinging
to doors and windows.

Human-size ferns
gather along the garden wall
with secrets folded away
among the tender green tendrils
grasses whisper, grow wild,
obscure the road to reality.

There is
something on the horizon,
maybe.

A stone house
maybe a
flock of sheep
maybe a
sleeping dragon.

Seems like choppy waters from here
In a rough little boat.

Disaster may shortly arrive,
but that shouldn’t stop us
from planning things away.

Failed memories haunt my diagrams
and blueprints, I
design a fortress
to keep success at bay.

Someone lent a hand, but
it wasn’t me.
When things unraveled
as they do
a bill came, overdue.
A price I paid,
without asking
who, or why.

Tricks of the Trade

A great deal was invested
billowing out and away toward the clouds
with finesse. A skill
honed over dark afternoons
of timeless practice.

There was a place for everything, yet
It never quite fit, it
remained disjointed
and out of sorts.
Even so,
I knew the way it should go.

I left
I walked away
I walked up the hill
on tiny thin path
toward the horizon.

I looked back, I saw
you standing there
disappointed and alone.

Many things have spilled, been lost,
flowed away down cliffs, rocks
a jagged precipice.
We could have worked together
getting things done
one by one.

Regret is stiff in the mouth
like stale bread
rough sustenance you take
to turn your back on a team
that never wanted you.

Going it alone
is a fresh start, anyway
not without a bitter taste, true,
but new fruit will be sweeter.

The spirit does not look back, it turns
toward the light
of the future.

On The Level

You care for strays.
Those creatures
who have chosen
to live apart from others–
who belong to no-one.

You see the world
embellished equally
we stand eye to eye–
we share our brother’s cup.

You fill every empty hand, your
giving knows no bounds it
overflows.

Absorbing both the tragedy
of darkness
and the bright celebration
of hope, seen
through stable windows.
You light the glowing lamp
of charity.

As you bend
to cradle
your hidden army of love
I am left standing
alone, inverted–
my heart pours into the air.

O brother, where art thou
who can tend to another
without end?

Where is the mercy
that will save us
that will shake foundations
that will leave us level
with each other
once more?