Diary - Pilgrimage

Days of Note: Flamekeeping, Pilgrimage to the Angel Oak

Sun: gemini (mutable air), 6:15am - 8:19pm (Summerville, SC)
Moon: waning crescent, pisces (mutable water), VOC (through tomorrow evening)
Earth: another hot, sunny day down in South Carolina, with the air thick and muggy and a possible thunderstorm this afternoon (we can only hope); even when the sun is high, the sunlight is not the clear, bright sunlight of farther north, but a damper, heavier, somehow darker kind of light through which everything seems hazy - or perhaps it's only that even in the shade the heat dominates, so that nowhere is safe from the sunlight


Brigid always has a trick up her sleeve for me, it seems. I now have a Brigid's Cross burned between my breasts… or to be more precise, a pale uneven-cross of skin surrounded by the red-pink of sunburn. Last night at sundown when I began my Flamekeeping shift, I asked her to accept the gold Brigid's Cross pendant I always wear as a symbol of her flame because I could not keep a physical flame for her during this shift (even lighting a candle at all in our B&B room was technically not allowed, though I risked it for half an hour for my opening rite). The handmade flame pendant I usually wear is back home, embedded in wax where my usual Flamekeeping candle spilled over into the offering dish without my noticing. I'm not sure if I'll be able to get it out again without ruining it, since it didn't have any kind of protective finish on it, but in any case it was too late to try to salvage it just then when I was packing. I'm not sure if the sunburn is a sign of acceptance or a light slap on the wrist for not being better prepared to travel-while-Keeping. In any case, it wasn't entirely unexpected, considering we were out on the beach without sunscreen during the most intense part of the day….

I'm feeling slightly scatter-brained at the moment, which I expect is mostly from the heat and general late-afternoon fatigue. Both mornings we've been here now, we've been up at dawn to do some yoga and then gone running in the surrounding neighborhood, coming back to the B&B to shower and have a delicious breakfast downstairs. We're the only people in the house right now, though there's a man in the cottage apartment out in the backyard (we haven't seen him yet, but we've seen his car in the drive). We basically have this entire gorgeous French-style southern mansion to ourselves, and it's absolutely lovely. Getting out early in the morning to go running while it's still relatively cool (in the 70s) has me feeling so completely energized and fantastic, I'm hoping I can hold on to that habit when we get back home. Yesterday morning after a shower and breakfast, I spent some time in the lush, steamy garden in the back of the house while Jeff got some work done on the computer inside. I spent time in meditation sitting on a stone bench by one of the small fountains (guarded by a small moss-covered frog and a statue of the Amitabha Buddha).

This morning, though I was technically on Flamekeeping shift, I held off on my morning meditation because right after breakfast we made the hour-long drive to John's Island to see the Angel Oak tree. Last year we visited the tree on Earth Day in April, in the early evening just as the sun was in its golden hour (and the trip also happened to be during a Flamekeeping shift!). This year, we made it to the oak by mid-morning and again the sunlight was all golden and soft through the branches. There was hardly anyone around, and so Jeff and I split up and found spots to sit near the tree to do some meditation. The same feeling I had last year — of immensity and power and life-force emanating from the tree enough to make my heart quicken — was there again this morning. I noticed that the other tourists who wandered up to see the tree during our time there all had a tendency to lower their voices to a whisper, as if out of respect, and there was a natural hush about the place. Even though it's a tourist attraction now, it's hard for me to believe that it's not also a sacred place of power in spite of that. Even the way people arrived, a couple at a time but in a steady stream so that there was almost always at least one person around, a new person arriving just as the other was leaving, though you couldn't ever say the place was busy, and always it had that same hush and quiet and presence to it…. it almost seemed as though the tree were drawing people to it, few by few, like pilgrims attending to it, murmuring appreciative prayers of awe and praise. To sit under the tree for any length of time and watch this process was amazing, and just as it did last year, it left me with this strange sense that the tree was a sacred center or power or axis mundi around which the rest of the world turned, with us little humans coming to stand tiny at its feet and arrange our lives like love-worn dolls….

When we first arrived, a couple with a young toddler were just leaving and for a time we had the place all to ourselves. I sat at the base of the tree while Jeff wandered off somewhere else, and I sat in meditation for twenty minutes or so. First just breathing my awens and allowing myself to relax into the energy and presence of the place, then reaching out to perform (my version of) the DOTR Three Realms workings. The Tree as center and bridge between the watery depths of soul and the celestial heights of spirit was especially effective when I could feel the vast trunk of the Angel Oak behind me, lending support to my spine. During this meditation, my sense of grounding was so powerful, I felt as though I could sit there forever, still and unmoving, so solidly was I rooted in the earth. It's one of the most effective grounding experiences I've had in recent memory. I also experimented with Erynn Rowan Laurie's take on the Three Cauldrons meditation - though I used different hand gestures adapted from the "peace sign" meditation I'd been working on (with both hands placed on the ground to either side, then raised to the center in a namaste/prayer position, then raised up again — in this way, the gestures not only mimic a transformation of the peace sign from despair to rejoicing, but they also echo the Awen symbol in both invoking and evoking form).

A side note: part of me feels bad that I feel such an urge to adapt and change the practices I learn from others. Often the people teaching these techniques will say that they can be adapted or changed to suit personal approaches… but I often feel like this is more an attempt to be tolerant of diversity, and not really a whole-hearted encouragement to actually go about changing things. I do want to trust that certain ritual techniques have stood the test of time and have something to teach me… but it was easier to trust this way in Catholic rituals which really were hundreds, even thousands of years old. Druidry (and Paganism generally) is still so new, and there's a lot of variation in technique. I see similarities between different types of meditations and energy work that I can't overlook, and so these end up blending together in my practice to create rites and gestures that make sense to me. The way I perform a Three Realm Working is derived in part from Orion Foxwood's exercising in connecting to the local land (I forget its name at the moment), in which the "streams" from below and above are joined in the heart. It seems the Three Realms working is also similar to the ADF Two Powers meditation…. except in the Three Realms (both in the DOTR version and my adaptation) there is a blending of the two energies to create or express a third. I never quite understood why a tradition like ADF, with such emphasis on the three realms, the three hallows and other triads, would have a fundamentally dualistic meditative practice as a core technique…. connecting Earth and Sky, but where is Sea in this? This is the same trouble I had with the three Druidic elements in their relation to the four classical elements. If you can arbitrarily drop or add an aspect to a system, then it wasn't a stable or complete system to begin with. In the Three Realms, Land, Sea and Sky seem all to be of equal importance and significance…. and simply dropping Sea and connecting only to the other two doesn't make much sense to me. Similarly, dropping (or combining) Fire and Air from the four classical elements to get the three Druidic elements — as though they were nearly interchangeable otherwise — is deeply dissatisfying to me. So I have to figure out a way to make that change.

On the other hand, Erynn Rowan Laurie's Three Cauldron's meditation makes a lot of sense to me, with the Cauldron of Warming (being associated with the realm of land/earth and the Druidic element/principle of calas) the lowest of the three, the Cauldron of Motion (sea/gwyar) near the heart, and the Cauldron of Wisdom (sky/nwyfre) near the head/crown/third eye. This makes intuitive sense to me, and aligns pretty well with both T. Thorn Coyle's "three souls" meditation and with my Peace of the Three Realms meditation that I developed a few years ago (in which each of the… let's call them "cauldrons," though I originally called them simply "centers," are infused specifically with energies from the Three Realms in a kind of rippling out/up of energy). I don't have any struggle in figuring out why, during the Three Realms working, gwyar/sea is "below" and calas/land/tree in the center, while in the Three Cauldrons working this is reversed. It just… makes sense to me that way. Perhaps because the Three Realms working is a kind of orientation, connecting us with the Tree as axis mundi and bridge of soul and spirit… while the Three Cauldrons/Peace of the Realms practices are more about activating our own ("internal") energy centers. With this inner work, we naturally start from a "base line" of calas, the realm of land that we're so used to and probably most immediately connected to through our physical senses. From there, we kind of "drop" into the gwyar/emotional center of movement and exchange — that is, our experience of form and limit naturally gives rise to an urge to connect, and this is a kind of deepening at the same time that it's a rising up…. almost as though our heart calls our attention to it precisely at that moment when it is spilling over — we are called inward at the same time that we feel the ache of going outward. The final center of nwyfre/wisdom is an ascent to pure force and initiative, as well as breath. Both boundaries and the interweaving or connection of those boundaries are overcome or swept up in the unity of "oneness," to some extent.

I'm not at all convinced this makes much sense… I'll have to keep playing with these ideas. In any case, I'd like to find a way to integrate the Peace Prayer practice with the Three Realms working (and the Three Cauldrons practice as well, perhaps) in a way that leads naturally from one into the other without having to drastically altar the energies I'm working with for each one. ADF describes the Two Powers practice as like to "grounding and centering." I'm not sure which one people traditionally do first among other Wiccan/Pagan groups… but I always understood that centering was the first step (a kind of inward turning and cultivation of stillness and attention that was the prerequisite for any meditative work) and grounding was the second step, a moving outward again from that established center to "ground" that center in the living earth, as though planting a seed, or the moment when that seed germinates and sends out roots. In any case, it always seemed to me an inward/outward movement of focus, rather than an up/down focus the way the Earth/Sky approach suggests. In my own practice, I've gotten so used to centering and grounding that I hardly notice it as an initial step before my other meditation work. I center through some meditative breathing, cultivating a stillness between breaths (which the awen breath can be particularly helpful for), and then reach out to ground myself in the earth and further open myself to the living presences around me. In this sense, then, centering/grounding is a first step, and the natural next step after grounding (reaching out to the earth surrounding me — for we do not only live "on" the earth, but more precisely we live in it, surrounded by its landscapes and climates) is to begin (my version of) the DOTR Three Realms working. When we ground, like a tree putting down roots and sending up shoots, we are not seeking merely earth beneath us… we are seeking the water and the exchange of nutrients below, and the sunlight and air that fuels us from above. These we transform into the living matter of our bodies. So the Three Realms working is a natural follow-up to the centering/grounding opening work.

In that case, then, the Peace of the Realms and the Three Cauldrons meditations are not so much about who we are or where we locate/orient ourselves in the currents of the world… but more about what we do in the world, how we approach our activity. Once we center and ground ourselves in our enspirited-bodies, then what is it we do with those bodies? Finding our foundation, cultivating our work and releasing our love-guided efforts into the world (or warming, motion and wisdom) are the three processes or activities we undertake. They may have affinities with the Three Realms… but they are not merely equivalent. Which is why the Peace of the Three Realms actually "activates" each of the three realms or their currents/elements/principles in each of the three activity centers. So if this is the case.. then a natural order to the practices would be: starting with centering and grounding, then the Three Realms working to orient and establish our selves within the three realms of the world, then the Three Cauldrons meditation to "activate" or energize the three "centers" or cauldrons within the self, then the Peace of the Three Realms prayer to articulate and express the purpose towards which those three center of activity might be directed.

I'll have to experiment with this order to see how it works in practice as well as in theory… but I'm actually quite pleased with this approach. It makes some gut-level sense to me, and incorporates at least some sources of legitimate ancient Celtic culture. I would want to read more about the Cauldron of Poesy text that Erynn Rowan Laurie mentions, if only to seek out some confirmation of this approach.

It seems to be almost 8 PM now and I've been writing for at least two hours…. I had more to talk about, but my shift is coming to an end, so I should probably wrap things up. I'm feeling especially tired and I should probably be sure to drink some more water and apply some more aloe gel to my burn so I'm not regretting my silliness in the morning.

It occurs to me that I forget to explain how I got the sunburn! After staying by the Angel Oak for an hour or two, we thought we would try to find the nearest public beach access, which ended up being Folly Beach. We spent about an hour strolling along the shore, feet in the warmest ocean water lapping up around our calves. Before finally returning to the car, I waded out deeper until I was standing in waters mid-thigh and waves were getting the hem of my sundress damp. By that point, though, I'd already been out long enough to get a burn on my shoulders and chest. We're thinking of going back to the beach tomorrow, after spending a morning in Charleston looking at all the ancient homes built right up on the shoreline by slave labor (Jeff's love of this beautiful human tragedy reminds me of that Doctor Who episode, Blink: "Sad is like happy for deep people.")

We'll see. Tomorrow we're taking a day off from running, though we're hoping to still do some sun salutations to great the new day. It's Jeff's birthday, so we'll have an official day off to do whatever we want before heading back to Pittsburgh on Friday. I may or may not have a chance to write again before we get back home. We'll see.

Astrology of Me: Natal Chart Analysis (Part 2)

Days of Note: Flamekeeping (begins at sundown), pilgrimage to the Angel Oak

Sun: gemini (mutable air), 6:16am - 8:18pm
Moon: last quarter, pisces (mutable water)
Earth: hot and sunny, we're down in Summerville, South Carolina (near Charleston) staying in a lovely French B&B to visit the old Angel Oak; everything here lush and green and muggy

Based on Stephen Arroyo's Outline of Chart Interpretation

II. The Main Components of the Chart Structure

§A Patterns Using the Astrological Alphabet

Using the 12-letter "Astrological Alphabet" (p.176) to examine the signs and houses of each of the planets as well as the important aspects (5º orb) among the planets, three themes emerge as having particular emphasis.

The first is a triple emphasis on the relationship between Letter 1 and Letter 8 — Mars in the 8th house trine Pluto in the 1st house. Here Mars (1) is in close aspect with Pluto (8), with Mars (1) in the 8th house (8) and Pluto (8) in the 1st house (1). I'm not exactly sure what this theme means, but it's actually the example he uses in the book, where he explains that "the expression of Mars energy will be powerfully characterized by Plutonian qualities." Mars is characterized generally as desire, will-power or will to action, initiative and physical energy, and describes what kinds of energy we use to assert ourselves and what will drive us and give us energy. Pluto is characterized by transformation, transmutation, rebirth and intense focus. Both planets have strong associations with courage, desire and the way we exert our will. The "toning" of Mars with Plutonian energy suggests that I seek to assert myself and my will by turning my focus inward to bring about personal transformation (rather than directing it outwards against others, perhaps?) and that I also feel energized physically by intense, transformative experiences (maybe this relates to my approach to physical exercise as well?).

Tompkins describes the Mars-Pluto aspect as being about a "fight for survival" that can express itself as an intense (but sometimes hidden) competitive nature, either directed outwards in competition with others or turned inwards in competition with the self. There is also some suggestion of associations with both buried rage and buried sexuality (Pluto having a "burying" effect on the aggressive and/or sexual energies of Mars), which can express itself either in repressed anger or passion sublimated as passive aggressiveness or manipulation, or a focus on the "darker" aspects of self and society that others would rather be buried and denied. Tompkins focuses mostly on hard/challenging aspects between the two; the fact that Mars trines Pluto in my chart may indicate that I have an easier time facing the "dark side" of passion and aggression, that I am better able to accept and acknowledge the violence, competitiveness and sexuality in my nature than someone with a challenging aspect. (On the other hand, this might mean that I will tend to take for granted that aggression or sexuality will be "buried" — which might explain why, to some extent, I am prudishly uncomfortable with public flaunting of sexuality or socially condoned forms of violence, expecting them to be reined in or restrained even while acknowledging those forces as inherent aspects of ourselves. A trine might suggest that I take for granted this kind of "burying" or sublimating of aggressive/sexual passions because it comes fairly easily to me.)(N.B. On this last parenthetical bit: Jeff doesn't think so. Maybe he will leave a comment explaining his take in detail… hint hint.)

There is also a double emphasis on the relationship between Letter 1 and Letter 10 (Saturn in the 1st house trine Mars), which is no real surprise since Saturn and Pluto are in such close conjunction in my chart that they tend to act almost as a single influence. In this case, Saturn (10) is in close trine aspect with Mars (1), and Saturn (10) is also in the 1st house (1). In this case, then, the Mars energies of desire, will-power, activity and physical energy will be toned or influenced by the Saturnian characteristics of effort, integrity, authority, (self-)discipline, responsibilities and patience. Both planets have connections to how we assert ourselves and our will — Mars through passion and initiative, Saturn through concentrated effort and diligence over time. This theme may suggest that I seek to assert myself through disciplined effort and that I connect this effort with my sense of personal integrity, taking on responsibilities and expecting my work to earn me a certain amount of authority. In turn, it may suggest that I feel energized and spurred to action when I am put into situations that demand patience, diligence and the shouldering of responsibilities.

Tompkins, as usual, says so much about the Mars-Saturn aspect that it's hard to distill and clarify the main thrust of the relationship. There are some influences echoing those of Mars-Pluto (likely to be especially important considering Saturn's close conjunction with Pluto in my chart), in particular a certain ambivalent attitude towards both violence/rage and passion/sexuality — in this case, these energies are not "buried" as with Pluto, so much as brought under tighter control. (Arroyo suggests that Saturn can cause blocks precisely because these areas are of particular importance or weight to a person, like trying to force too much water through too tight an opening.) The Mars-Saturn relationship also suggests conflicts concerned with or about authority, either fighting on behalf of authority or struggling against authority. As with Pluto, however, the Mars-Saturn aspect can indicate the ability to bring great passion, energy and courage and direct them towards a particular aim — rather than the transformation of Pluto, in this case Saturn's urges towards integrity, responsibility and discipline — and in doing so, accomplish great things. Again, because the Mars-Saturn aspect is a trine in my chart, there's an indication that this kind of concerted effort and discipline may come naturally to me, that I am able to deftly handle the balance between impulse and discipline, assertiveness and control, fear and courage. (This may also reflect my tendency to "go overboard" when I set myself a particular task, channeling a great deal of energy and activity into the chosen are of hard work — for instance, I'm starting to think I may be overdoing it a bit with this chart analysis!) Interestingly, Tompkins connects the Mars-Saturn aspect with tasks that require a lot of discipline and control along with physical strength and effort — among these, she mentions blacksmithing, one of the three skills ruled over by Brigid. The connection between smithcraft and transmutation/transformation found in Her nature may reflect to some extent Mars trine Saturn-Pluto in my chart. (I want to come back later to this issue of what insights astrology might be able to give us into our gods.)

The last theme is a double emphasis on the relationship between Letter 9 and Letter 11 — Uranus in Sagittarius conjunct Jupiter. Here, Jupiter (9) is in close aspect with Uranus (11), while Uranus (11) is in Sagittarius (9). This suggests that Jupiter will be influenced by the energies of Uranus, while Uranus is also tempered and toned by the energies of Jupiter (ruler of Sagittarius). Jupiter is characterized by grace, expansion/expansiveness, trust and faith in a larger order or meaning, and its influence describes how we strive to grow, improve ourselves and where we seek confidence and our sense of grace. Uranus is characterized by freedom, independence, experimentation, originality and creativity, and describes how we differentiate ourselves from others and establish our uniqueness and individuality. The Jupiter-Uranus relationship suggests that my faith and experience of grace will be charged with a sense of freedom and affirmation of my individuality, and I may express this faith in unconventional or experimental ways. There is also a sense that the urge towards originality and creativity will be expansive and pervasive in my life.

Tompkins suggests that the Jupiter-Uranus aspect is defined largely by its tendency towards radical, fringe or unorthodox religious and/or political traditions and beliefs. This results from the relationship between faith, associated with Jupiter, and Uranus's association with truth. In this aspect, there is an urge to bring faith and the search for meaning into closer alignment or attunement with truth (as opposed to allowing the need for faith to overrule truth, as in fundamentalism, or the search for truth to undermine faith, as in nihilism/cynicism, I guess?). This aspect also reflects the importance of seeking faith in "personal truths" and often involved resisting or leaving a mainstream or orthodox religious or political tradition. There's not much more to elaborate on here, since this pretty much nails it. My choice to leave Catholicism (with its emphasis on tradition and the authority of the Church) and my involvement in Paganism (with its emphasis on plurality, diversity, freedom and creativity, especially creative ritual) reflect this theme strongly.

Further notes: What's especially interesting to me is that among these three themes emphasized in my chart, the last and arguably least emphasized is the one that is easiest for me to recognize and identify in my own life. This may have something to do with the fact that the aspect is a conjunction that falls within the sign ruled by one of the planets — and that this entire configuration is in the most important, exact and powerful opposition in my entire chart (with Mercury)… perhaps setting up a situation in which these energies are strong and obvious to me as something I have had to grapple with and articulate. The themes expressed in Saturn's and Pluto's trines with Mars are more difficult to pin down, their expressions in my life not so obvious… and this might have to do with the nature of the trine aspect as "soft" or easy, something that does not present a particular challenge and so can be to some extent taken for granted. Since these involve Saturn, however, I do want to examine these themes in more depth, especially as I approach my Saturn Return.


§B Dominant Aspects and Major Configurations

Much of this I already covered in the first part of my analysis, looking at the overall pattern of the chart as a whole. I noted the emphasis on the Gemini-Sagittarius opposition (strengthened by both Mercury and Jupiter falling within their ruling signs, as well as Mercury's exact opposition Uranus and the Sun's near-exact opposition Neptune). There is also a less powerful emphasis on the trine relationship between Gemini and Libra.

I do not have any dominant aspects (such as Grand Trines or T-Squares) in my chart, but I do have three different "groupings" of planets that could arguably be stelliums (depending on the orb). The first and probably most powerful falls within Gemini and involves the conjunction of my Sun and Mars with Mercury close by within the same sign. The second involves the conjunction of Saturn and Pluto with my Ascendent (with the Moon nearby in the same sign) in Libra. The third is Jupiter conjunct Uranus with Neptune nearby in the sign of Sagittarius. The Gemini stellium falls (very) roughly in my 8th house, while the Sagittarius stellium falls (again, very) roughly in my 2nd house; the stellium involving my Ascendent falls primarily within my 1st house but seems to kind of rope in my Moon in the 12th house.

Jeff described the 8th house to me once as the house of "sex, death and initiation" — all things that deal with power and transformation. Arroyo describes this house (a water house) as one of yearning and seeking after security for the soul, possibly through discovering the deepest laws of life (sex and death being two of the most powerful and most essential) as a stable foundation upon which to build a sense of inner peace. Occult studies are also considered to be related tot his house for similar reasons. A stellium in my 8th house (especially one that involves my Sun, though it's right on the cusp and technically in my 9th house) suggests a deep involvement in grappling with issues of power, passion and transformation, coming to terms with and finding peace through right relationship (or release from) desires and compulsions.

The 2nd house (an earth house) is one of material stability and security and might be characterized by a drive for an abundance of resources. This influence can expression itself through financial or material wealth, but is just as likely to involve an essential and deeply meaningful attunement with and appreciation of the natural world as a source of abundance, sustenance and support. A stellium involving a Jupiter-Uranus conjunction in my 2nd house goes even further to clarify my draw towards earth-centered spirituality, as my urge for stability and peace in the physical world is tied up with my sense of grace and trust in a deeper spiritual reality (as well as the desire for individuality and freedom).

I've already spent some time in-depth exploring the implications of Saturn and Pluto influenced by the Martian energies of the 1st house, and later in the analysis will be a particular focus on the Ascendent and any planets in close conjunction, so I'll forgo that analysis for now.

Astrology of Me: Natal Chart Analysis (Part 1)

Days of Note: Full White Lady Moon

Sun: taurus (fixed earth); 6:02am - 8:31pm
Moon: *full moon, sagittarius (mutable fire)
Earth: another gray, drizzly, chilly day with steady rain for hours on end, finally clearing just before sunset this evening with layers of cloud (and a tiny bit of clear blue breaking through) transforming the sky into a tapestry of blues and grays

Based on Stephen Arroyo's Outline of Chart Interpretation

I. The Chart as a Whole

§A.1 Preponderance & Deficiencies Shown by Planets' Positions • By Sign Placement
a) Elements

• Fire - Venus in Leo; Jupiter conjunct Uranus, and Neptune in Sagittarius
• Earth - none
• Air - Sun conjunct Mars, and Mercury in Gemini; AC conjunct Saturn and Pluto, and Moon in Libra
• Water - none

b) Quadruplicity

• Cardinal - AC conjunct Saturn and Pluto, and Moon in Libra
• Fixed - Venus in Leo
• Mutable - Sun conjunct Mars, and Mercury in Gemini; Jupiter conjunct Uranus, and Neptune in Sagittarius

§A.2 Preponderance & Deficiencies Shown by Planets' Positions • By House Placement
a) Types

• Angular - AC conjunct Saturn and Pluto in 1st; Venus in 10th
• Succedent - Jupiter conjunct Uranus in 2nd; Mercury and Mars in 8th
• Cadent - Neptune in 3rd (2nd?); Sun in 9th (8th?); Moon in 12

b) Elements

• Fire - AC conjunct Saturn and Pluto in 1st; Sun in 9th (8th?)
• Earth - Jupiter conjunct Uranus in 2nd; Venus in 10th
• Air - Neptune in 3rd (2nd?)
• Water - Mercury and Mars in 8th; Moon in 12th

§B Overall Pattern of the Chart

An emphasis on Gemini (mutable air) and Sagittarius (mutable fire), with a Sun-Mars conjunction opposite Neptune and a Jupiter-Uranus conjunction opposite Mercury. Both Mercury and Jupiter fall within the signs they rule (Gemini and Sagittarius, respectively), further emphasizing the Gemini-Sagittarius opposition. Sagittarius as a fire sign is associated with cosmic or universal radiant energy expressed as passion, enthusiasm and honesty, while Gemini as an air sign expresses this cosmic energy as life-energy and is concerned primarily with the realm of archetypes or ideas, the patterns "behind" the physical world. Both signs have a mutable quality, correlated to change, flux and flexibility (and can be conceived as spiral energy patterns, according to Arroyo). Sue Tompkins, in her text Aspects in Astrology, describes the Gemini-Sagittarius opposition as being a tension between the archetypal student (Gemini) eager for knowledge and the wise teacher (Sagittarius) as the keeper of that knowledge. (She also compares this pair to the Fool and Judgement (or Justice?) tarot cards, respectively, expressing a tension between a youthful and inquisitive innocence and a concern for wisdom, morality and justice.) This reflects Arroyo's understanding somewhat, as he describes Sagittarius as a sign of aspiration and drive towards ideals, while Gemini is a sign of perception, immediacy and connection (especially expressed verbally).

This suggests to me that one of the dominant patterns in my chart is this tension between, on the one hand, the sharp, perceptive mind of Gemini that leaps at the underlying patterns and connections expressed in the immediate world here-and-now (and especially wants to communicate these perceived connections) and, on the other hand, the more expansive vision of Sagittarius that can conceive of yet-unrealized ideals and pursue them with relentless, even restless passion and enthusiasm. In other words, a tension between the short view and the long view, a tension between fascination with the here-now and a passion for the future-that-could-be. At first, I don't see much in the way of conflict here, so much as complimentary passions…. But the role of Uranus (and Neptune to a lesser extent) complicates the picture. Uranus is in perfectly exact opposition with Mercury (the most exact aspect in the chart), while Neptune's opposition to the Sun is the second-most exact hard aspect (within a degree) in the chart. This brings an element of radical freedom and even chaos (Uranus) as well as a degree of self-deception or glamorization (Neptune) to the opposition. (This deserves some detailed expansion and exploration — so more of that later.)

Besides the Mutable Opposition dominating the chart, the second most obvious pattern is probably the Air Trine between Gemini and Libra (involving, for the most part, the Sun and Mars in Gemini, with Saturn and Pluto conjunct the Ascendent in Libra), along with the Moon also in Libra. Gemini and Libra also seem aligned roughly with the 8th and 12th houses, respectively, both houses ruled by water. I'm not sure what exactly this suggests and need to look into it further, but at least there seems to be an emphasis on a fairly comfortable relationship with learning and communication which may also involve an easy, flowing connection with emotion or feelings. Saturn's placement might complicate this trine somewhat, bringing a certain amount of tension or resistance to it… but again, something I want to look at more deeply later on.

Diary - Dream & Manannan

Sun: taurus (fixed earth), 6:03am - 8:30pm
Moon: *full moon, scorpio (fixed water)
Earth: gray, drizzly, rainy and cool all day

I woke up this morning (around 5 AM) from a very intense dream once again involving a sea god or man deeply connected with the sea, who I'm almost sure is Manannan.

This dream started out as similar to a dream I had a few weeks ago focused on anxiety about the upcoming wedding. In this dream, like the first wedding dream, I was stressed out about the wedding happening "too soon" and thus our wedding guests not taking it seriously — but "too soon" in the dream meant not our set wedding date in September, but right now, this instant. In the dream, I was not engaged to Jeff but to some other man. I don't think I ever saw him in the dream, but I had an impression of him being shorter and stockier than Jeff, darker in hair and complexion and rather rough and harsh. I was set to marry him "in May" (in other words, within the next few weeks), and I was somewhere resembling something like a beach house with my parents and a number of other people, some of whom were my family members and some not.

While there, I met a man and fell passionately in love with him, in the kind of deep-longing-to-be-together-but-never-really-consummating kind of way. The magnetism or connection between us was palpable, as it was in my previous dream about being mistaken for a priestess of the sea god. I felt like my heart was breaking open, but not exactly in sadness. We spent time together on the beach, and during the course of our conversations it became clear that if I tried to enter into some kind of friendship or relationship with him — even if it could not be a romantic one — this would fundamentally change my relationship with my fiancé. I wanted desperately to delay the wedding until the appropriate time (in September) so that I could spend the next months exploring my connection with this man of the sea, and I knew that if I did that, then the man I eventually married would be changed — I would not marry the dark, short, stocky man that I might marry "in May," but would instead end up marrying Jeff as I actually know him — but this was not because the person I was marrying would literally change and I would marry someone else… it was as though the darker man would somehow transform into Jeff through my relationship with the sea god.

This was all very confusing, but I knew that I wanted to explore the relationship with the mysterious man that I felt such a connection to. Still, I couldn't bring myself to let my family know or tell anyone, so I just tried to think of reasons to delay the wedding. I would meet him covertly, among other friends, as though he just happened to be a mutual acquaintance. Once, when out swimming in the ocean, he caught up to me in the deep waters where we could be alone. He said he had a gift for me, then dove down into the depths, not resurfacing for a long time. When he did finally resurface, he was pulling up from beneath the waters a huge ship, its wood creaking and spilling water from it. Friends from shore saw the boat and came out to see, so that soon everyone was clambering on board to explore (while I still stayed treading water next to him in the ocean). On one part of the deck of the ship was a hole in the boards which was covered over and seemed almost to be surrounded by dirt mounded up with bits of grass growing around it. It looked very much like a well of some kind, like you might find on land. Someone asked about it, and the sea-god-man warned them not to open it — they thought it was just a hatch down below deck, but he said (or made me to understand, at least) that it wasn't. Actually, it was a well, a kind of portal that dropped straight down into the depths of the ocean/underworld. He made me to understand that I could stay and live with him on the ship out on the ocean, but even there, I couldn't always be with him. Everyone once in a while, he would have to open the cover of the well and drop down into the very depths, where I could not follow him, and we would be parted. The notion of being parted from him was painful, but in a way that seemed like a noble sacrifice that was well worth it.

Soon after understanding the purpose of the well on the ship, I woke up.

So a great deal to mull over and contemplate in this latest dream (including the question of why I seem to be able to connect with Manannan so much better in dreams than during my ritual times with hi — or, I guess, why he chooses to show up at one time instead of another).

Part of what fed into this dream, I think, was my emotional state last night, spurred on by (yes, I'm a nerd) finally watching the Doctor Who specials from the year between the end of the fourth season and the beginning of the fifth with the 11th Doctor (that obnoxious actor guy who isn't David Tennant). David Tennant as the Doctor saw me through some pretty brutal, lonely times during those years of solitude and poverty — as well as the first few months of my budding romance with Jeff when we finally met in person for the first time (we spent several nights curled up on the futon watching Doctor Who, and then lapsing into make-out sessions while the TARDIS churned on the DVD menu screen ;). For the two or so years since then, I couldn't bring myself to watch the final episodes of Season Four (when the Doctor definitively loses both Rose and Donna, his best friend) for a second time… until just a few weeks ago when Jeff and I decided to go ahead and do it because we were going to start watching them over again with a friend of ours during a weekly "Night of Doctor Who" get together. Just last night, we watched the Special when the 10th Doctor dies. I cried like a baby. Like, we're talking sobs.

Several hours later, when we were settling into bed, I started crying again in a kind of odd mixture of sobs and laughter…. I can't describe exactly why I was crying, but it wasn't just about some silly TV show. I was remembering who I was during those years of deep, wrenching loneliness, and in some ways, I felt like I was mourning that Alison who had to live through those years. I rarely think about that time of my life these days, and my life now seems full of lots of little stresses and anxieties… and yet, now I am so amazingly happy and grateful that it's almost like I can't really allow myself to fully feel that joy, or I'd just be wandering around like a grinning idiot all the time. So there was this weird, sublime tension between my deep grief for that Alison of memory who is, in some ways, always going to be there, in that past, alone and weeping… and at the same time realizing how utterly ridiculous I was for not opening more fully to the joy of my present life. The only way I coped with those years of heartache was to embrace that loneliness and learn to grieve openly and cleanly, so that grieving became a process of healing and an affirmation of life. Now, I have so much to be grateful and joyful about… and yet I'm busy pushing myself, always striving, and beating myself up for not accomplishing more, not moving my career forward as quickly as I want to, not being as good a stepmom as I want to be, etc. All these stresses that, really, aren't that big a deal. Last night, it was as if I was again that sorrowing Alison of memory, only now I was looking forward at my life today… and laughing at how silly I can be, never cutting myself any slack or letting myself enjoy a rest. The whole metaphor of "regeneration" in the Doctor Who series, and this idea that the new Doctor is not really the same even if he has all the same memories… that's kind of what I felt like. Except, I don't want to forget the sadness and grief and loneliness of who I was before. I want to honor the lessons that sorrow and solitude taught me, and be more present to the very real joy in my life right now.

So before going to bed, I had resolved to develop some meditative/ritual practice to help me cultivate my joy and offer it as a gift, as I once did with my loneliness, to my gods and to Spirit and the Song of the World. I didn't know exactly what kind of practice this would be, but I wanted to pursue it. So it's not that much of a surprise to me that this kind of intense emotional turmoil and catharsis last night brought on dreams once again of Manannan. He always seems connected, for me, to that liminal state between sorrow and joy, grief and gratitude. The longing to be with him — and the wrenching awareness that I can't ever be, not really, not permanently — is a theme in so many relationships in my life (and one reason I think I found the Doctor so resonant and moving as a character). That I'm in a good, happy, stable relationship now doesn't really change that. In some ways, Manannan is reminding me, I think, that even with those we love, there are dark places we cannot touch and depths to which we cannot follow, and that as close as I feel to Jeff, I cannot take our relationship for granted. If I do, then the person I am marrying won't really be Jeff, but some shallower version of him more prone to my projections, more of a stranger than the man I love. But if I work to cultivate my joy and my gratitude and my love, especially in the depths where all becomes liminal and the autumn mists rise, then in the coming months my relationship with Jeff will deepen and blossom even more, and our marriage will truly be one of souls in love. I remember in the dream, understanding that it was important to wait until September, and spend time with this Man of the Sea, so that when the time came for me to marry, my marriage would blessed by the cool mists of autumn.

~

Ellen on the LotS SIG asked what I do during a "Seakeeping" shift with Manannan, so I thought I would share my response to her here.

Honestly, at this point, my practice with Manannan is still in its infancy, taking many stumbling baby-steps. My basic pattern for ritual work is the same I use for Brigid during my Cauldron Cill Flamekeeping shift. I begin my shift at sundown of the appropriate day, opening with a small, simple ritual of welcome.

For Brigid, I have prayers that I use to more fully invite her presence into my life and to charge/consecrate anew the flame pendant that I wear during my Flamekeeping shift. I light a physical candle during this ritual, even if I'll only be able to keep an LED one "burning" during the shift itself, and I pass the pendant above the flames while chanting, "Fire and Water in the Earth of my body, I keep your Sacred Flame." I don't really have a similar thing to do for Manannan, though I've been thinking for a while of finding either a shell pendant to wear, or a ring made of shell (like those hokey ones you can get at beach tourist gift shops). Instead of lighting a candle, I have a blue pitcher that I fill with water which I'll hold between my hands to charge, then pouring libation into my offering bowl (and taking a sip to honor the Spirit/god within). I do have a large whelk shell that was a gift from the sea when I was down at the beach last fall that I also bless. Afterwards, for both Flamekeeping and Seakeeping, I spend some time in meditation and prayer, maybe doing some trance work if I have the stamina for it, and usually concluding the ritual with a divination. During the next 24ish hours, I keep/carry/wear the symbol of my shift with me (and for Brigid, keep either a real or LED flame burning) as a reminder and object of focus for my shift. The next night at sundown, I do a closing ritual where I thank the god/dess for the gifts they've brought into my life, and basically do a kind of "unwinding" (for Brigid, this kind of takes the form of a metaphorical "smooring the fire" for safekeeping until my next shift).

This works very well for Brigid… but I'm finding that for Manannan, it's not jiving as well. For one thing, the metaphor of the flame or fire as something that requires tending (and then can be "smoored") means that the activity of the Flamekeeping shift is actually, well, active, even if only in a metaphorical sense. I feel like I'm actually doing something during my Flamekeeping shift, and usually my creativity feels a bit heightened. During my Seakeeping shifts, though, I've more often felt at a loss for what I was supposed to be doing… There was kind of a sense of the ocean not really being something that needs tending or "keeping," and lighting a candle just feels more active then filling a bowl with water (which will slowly evaporate over the next month, whether I pay attention to it or not). I think this may be one area where I need to rethink the Seakeeping shift and how I approach it. I'm exploring the idea of incorporating some ritual practice that's more about opening myself up to receptivity and relaxing into the presence of Manannan, and not so much about the active engagement and honoring that I do with Brigid during my Flamekeeping… if that makes sense. Some kind of ritual bath would probably be good in this case, but not always possible depending on where I am and what my schedule is.

Like I mentioned already, what I'd really like is to be able to develop some unique rituals for each of the Flamekeeping and Seakeeping shifts, particular to the energies of those deities, but then have one or two practices that I do during both that kind of connect or help to integrate them in some way. (I'm thinking, for instance, of the "Running the Iron/Pearl Pentagrams" in Feri, though I know very little about that other than their names, or the Turning the Three Cauldrons meditation that I've heard about here and there.) So that's where I'm at right now. Trying to find some kind of ritual that is simple enough and practical enough that I can actually commit to doing it regularly… but is also effective and ritually/symbolically meaningful and fitting…. So, lots to think about and experiment with.

Diary

Days of Note: Seakeeping, Moon Conjunct Saturn

Sun: taurus (fixed earth), 6:05am - 8:28pm
Moon: waxing gibbous, libra (cardinal air)
Earth: gray and rainy, milk temperatures, the garden is just beginning to green with the sprouts of onions, carrots, lettuce and peas (and weeds weeds weeds)

Wave and water,
mist and storm,
I seek Manannan.

That was the invocation I used last night during my meditation to begin my "seakeeping" shift. I am still experimenting with this idea of keeping a shift (staggered with my Flamekeeping shift for Brigid with the TC Cill) in honor of Manannan as a way to connect more deeply with him. One thing I've noticed — and which probably should've been obvious to me from the start — is that I'm finding that a candle is not the most appropriate ritual object to use in this respect. For Brigid, it works well (the blue bowl with the floating golden candle, and the white pillar in the orange-and-red hurricane glass holder both work exceptionally well). For Manannan, I got a large pillar candle of rippling shades of blue (and that smells, supposedly, like the ocean)… but for obvious reasons, it's not serving as a very strong connection to him. I also included on my working altar my blue pitcher full of water, the photograph of an ocean wave in the blue glass and silver wire frame, and the blue-green whelk shell that washed up at my feet on the beach down in North Carolina when we were there last September. I also had my usual incense blend burning.

I admit, I'm not a big ritual tools person. I like having a fairly simple, basic set-up for ritual that I can just rely on each time. Thinking up clever, complex ritual symbolism for each ritual wears me out, especially for fairly simple rituals that I do on a daily or at least fairly regular basis. I tend to be a minimalist in this regard. So having a basic set-up of candle, incense, water and bit of earth is how I usually approach the issue, exchanging out certain objects for others where appropriate. So for instance, I exchange my Brigid candle for my Manannan candle, and the green and purple fluorite sphere for the whelk shell. Incense is the same — just some generic, all-purpose frankincense — and either the blue pitched of water, or the blue bowl full of glitter. Maybe this is lazy of me. When I was in my old apartment, it was easier to do more complex, purpose-specific altar spaces that incorporated various objects. Now, between the cat and the kids, I find it very hard to set up any kind of altar space with any permanence that won't get knocked or handled or treated (by kid and cat alike) as a plaything. It's easier to keep supplies stored away and bring them out whenever I want to do ritual.

But for Manannan's seakeeping shift, I'm finding this approach is just not working well. What I would ideally like to have is some kind of small fountain of running water or at the very least a libation bowl of some kind. During last night's ritual, I held the whelk shell in my hands, attempting to connect with its watery origins. This has worked in the past, but last night fell flat. The shell felt very much a hard, clunky object, not the fluidly crystalline "gateway" it's been before. And all of this might also be due to my lack of disciplined meditation recently, or a whole host of other issues I've been dealing with. I'd like to see if I could arrange a bath this evening — but when the kids are over, they dominate the entire house and its energy shifts decidedly in their restless, noisy direction. I'm not sure deep ritual of any kind is likely while they're around, unless I go out into the woods or somewhere equally solitary.

Do I sound cranky? (Is it because they've been in and out of the house, slamming the door each time, for the last twenty minutes or so?) This weekend is also supposed to be dedicated to some Saturn Return work, with the moon conjunct Saturn at the moment. In general, I'm feeling a bit cranky and distracted. Sinking into meditation feels impossible — like trying to fall asleep despite intermittent noise. That's the thing about intermittent distractions. Constant noise or movement can become part of the background — but distraction that is only intermittent dominates the subconscious, which remains on constant alert for when the next disruption will be. This is why folks who live too close to wind farms say it's a nightmare to try to sleep at night. Not just because the changing atmospheric conditions at night can amplify the noise of the windmills (which it does), but also because the noise is not constant white noise, but comes and goes with the breeze. Some small part of their mind remains in a mode of continued vigilance, in subconscious anticipation of the next unpleasant experience. And as a result, it feels impossible to concentrate — part of the mind's resources are permanently dedicated to that subconscious process. That's often how it feels here on weekends. I never know what to anticipate from the kids, and with four of them, it's almost guaranteed that one of them is going to need something every few minutes. Fiona can be the worst — she'll come to me instead of Jeff thinking that I'll be more lenient or give her permission that her father denied (or, more often these days, try to punish the other kids for not doing what she wants). Just now, in fact, she came in to tell me that Savanah was doing stuff she didn't like, specifically, she was off exploring the garden instead of playing with Fiona.

~

Excellent example. Jeff returned home with Jerilynn, one thing led to another, and it's now three hours or so later, after lunch, that I'm finally able to get back to this (now that the kids are downstairs with Jeff playing Settlers of Catan).

In any case, the day is warm and muggy, and even the walls inside feel somewhat damp to the touch. I'm feeling a little better having eaten, though not fantastic all the same. I'm going to just go ahead and post this because my train of thought was lost. I'd wanted to write a bit more about various projects Jeff and I are working on, but that can wait. Perhaps this evening or tomorrow I'll have another chance to write, as well as do a bit of divination with the cards.

DOTR Lesson 4: Air

Sun: taurus (earth/fixed), 6:07am - 8:26pm
Moon: waxing gibbous, virgo (earth/mutable)
Earth: gorgeous and sunny, bright morning, with an afternoon getting up near 80º with thundershowers

I've done a pretty poor job of keeping up with this diary over the past month or so, but that doesn't mean I haven't continued my spiritual work, as well as work more specifically pertaining to DOTR. Sometimes it's difficult to remember to journal here, just because so much of my work seems to tie back in to my spiritual life and path in one way or another, though perhaps not always in clearly definable ways. In any case, I just finished some meditation on Air (for Lesson 3), and I wanted to spend some time noting a few important bits. But (as to be expected, I suppose), I'm feeling a bit "air headed" and scatter brained at the moment, so don't expect too much coherence.

First, a reflection on Air as an element. On Monday morning, I sat outside and did a simple ritual of meditation and connection with the element of Air (though, thanks to the brilliant weather we've been having, I also made passing acquaintance with Fire in the form of sunlight and, subsequently, sunburn). I haven't been keeping up with my meditation as much as I would like, and there have been plenty of things to distract me (more on that later), so I wasn't able to sink deeply into trance or anything like that. But rather than force it, I simply allowed myself to spend time with the element as it expressed itself in my immediate landscape. I felt the breeze on my skin, listened to it play through the wind chimes in the backyard, and watched as it moved the spiraling incense smoke this way and that, turning first away from me, then surrounding me, then lifting up to disappear into the air above me.

Sitting inside this morning to do meditation, I again watched the incense and not for the first time marveled at how solid the forms of smoke seemed, how they kept their shape (though that shape was definitely mutable and spiraling and every-changing) and I could watch one bend or curl of smoke as it wafted on its own unique journey through the barely moving currents of air in the room until it slowly faded — not so much dissipating as simply disappearing, fading away.

This brings my mind back to the relationship between the four classical elements (earth, air, fire and water) and the three Druidic elements of nwyfre, gwyar and calas. In JMG's Druidry Handbook, I always found the explanation rather dissatisfying. It seems to me that these three v. four are distinct systems of understanding the world, with their own implications, and if that's true then one should be able to bring them to bear on one another. Instead, in the Handbook, the four seem simply an extension of the three — so that the implication is the three are somehow incomplete — and nwyfre seems to morph and change not in any essential way, but more as a matter of convenience, taking on whatever extra role seems necessary. Really, the three Druidic elements as JMG presents them seem like a hobbled version of the four classical elements, less like a three-legged stool than a four-legged chair you've taken a saw to. In our teaching work with Savanah, Jeff and I have tried to develop both an understanding of the three elements as complete in themselves, and an understanding of how the four elements can be understood in relation to the three. Anyone who talks to a twelve year old probably knows that you need to know your shit and have your explanations clear if you want to escape endless scrutiny. It took a while to explain why gwyar was different from water, for instance, and calas not quite the same as earth, and so on. But it's been helpful work, and has forced me to articulate some things in my own approach.

The approach I use now is that the three Druidic elements can be understood as guiding principles or aspects of the world. I understand them, most simply, as form, flow and force (for calas, gwyar and nwyfre). Thus, calas is the principle of form, manifestation, boundaries, limits, distinction and individuality. Gwyar is the principle of flow, exchange, movement, communication, connection and freedom. And nwyfre is the principle of force, energy, initiative, desire (and repulsion), drive and life-force in the kind of spiritual sense. Each of these describes aspects that can be found in absolutely everything in the physical (and nonphysical) world.

How do these relate to the four classical elements of earth, air, fire and water? Here I borrow an understanding from astrology (and as I study more, the more I see how much insight this approach has to offer!). The three Druidic elements can be likened to the three qualities in astrology known as cardinal (corresponding in my understanding with nwyfre), mutable (with gwyar) and fixed (with calas) — for each of the twelve zodiac, a sign is a combination of one of these three aspects with one of the four classical elements. Thus, you have Taurus as fixed earth while Virgo is mutable earth, Leo is fixed fire while Aries is cardinal fire, and so on. The three combined in this way with the four create twelve, each with its own particular expression. Taking a cue from astrology then, I see the three Druidic elements as principles or aspects, and I see the four classical elements as qualities or "building blocks," so to speak. Each of the four classical elements has a quality to it that can be expressed by any of the three principles. Thus earth is dark, cool, dry and heavy; air is bright, light, hot and moist; fire is bright, light, hot and dry, water is dark, cool, moist and heavy. These combination of qualities mean each element has particular associations as well — times, places, objects, tools and other symbols that best exemplify or embody the quality particular to that element. (So, for instance, the seasons: spring as warm and moist, summer as hot and dry, fall as cool and moist, winter as cold and dry.)

But the key here is that each of the elements can be expressed through any of the principles represented by the three Druidic elements. Thus, we can have fire as a quality expressed in calas - that principle of a physical fire which gives it shape and definition in our experiential engagement, which imbues it with a kind of perceivable form, that gives it an edge and a boundary. Fire expressed in gwyar is the process of combustion and consumption, the transformation of fuel into flame through a reaction and exchange. Or, another example, earth in calas is, most simply, the material world itself, all around us, which we experience as a realm of form and manifestation, full of distinct entities with limits, boundaries that bump up against one another. Earth expressed by the principle of nwyfre, on the other hand, is the urge in Spirit itself to manifest through form and limit. It is the spark, the initiative, the force of life that gives rise to form, that seeks to consolidate itself into particular organized entities. It is the energy of nwyfre expressed through the quality of darkness and opacity and heaviness.

These are just preliminary thoughts, and I have work to do to tease out the details and how each combination really works. Some qualities (four elements) seem to have particular affinity with certain principles (three elements). (For instance, the element of water is deeply related to the element or principle of gwyar.) So one thing I want to do during this time of revisiting the four elements through the DOTR work is to explore how each of the four elements is expressed or exemplified or affected by the three Druidic elements as principles of being. I'm hoping my divination work will help with this as well. Not only do I plan to keep studying astrology during this time, but I'm also looking into Erynn Rowan Laurie's book on the ogham, in which she talks about using three full sets (of 20) for three "currents" — chthonic, oceanic and celestial — corresponding to the three realms. My understanding of the three Druidic elements of calas, gwyar and nwyfre is that they also correspond to the three realms… though exactly how they correspond is something I'm still working out, and some of it will depend on my deeper research into this approach to ogham.

In particular, on that note, I find myself wavering between associating calas or gwyar with the chthonic/earthy realm. My two patron deities, Brigid Star Fire and Manannan, seem to dwell in tension with each other, with Brigid very much a deity of sky and the celestial, while Manannan is not only a deity of the ocean, but of the depths and the darkness, so that he also seems connected to the "underground" (as well as the mists that rise from the earth to obscure our way, and the rain that pours from the sky and soaks into the earth, seeking its depths). This is another issue that I have with the DOTR Three Realms practice itself. Maybe because of my aesthetic sense of my need for balance (or because I am overly analytical about these things) — I find myself wanting to reach down to connect with "water" (or more specifically, with gwyar) below instead of with "earthy" aspects associated with calas and the land. For me, the blue, deep, dark, heavy, moist, watery qualities below can then be brought into relationship with the yellow, high, bright, light, dry, fiery celestial energies of nwyfre above…. mixing and mingling and expressing themselves in the green aspects of calas and the land, the realm of form and manifestation.

The tree then, a mighty presence of the land, is a symbol of that bridge and that relationship — reaching its branches and leaves up into the sky for sunlight and air, and reaching its roots deep into the earth in search of water and nutrients…. at both these extremes, you have fluidity, exchange, change and a kind of blurring of boundaries, a liminality where Tree merges with that which is seeks. And then, having received the gifts of the heights and the depths, the fire and the water, these extremes, opposites, are integrated and brought into relationship in such a way that you have the "middle earth," the land we walk upon as a meeting place of these other realms, the realm of unique manifestation and expression, individuality and boundaries. The individual can be lost in the mysteries of the depths just as in the celestial mysteries — there is a dark mysticism as well as a bright mysticism. But the "real world" of sensual, sensory experience, where we know ourselves as distinct entities for the most part (only sometimes sinking into depths or rising to heights where we forget our "selves" completely in union with something greater)… that's the realm of calas, of the land, and the Tree. It seems to me that a daily spiritual practice works best (in my experience, anyway) when it teaches us how to bring the more liminal, fluid mysteries of the depths and the heights and integrate them and express them in the everyday world around us. In Kabbalism, as I understand it, there's the idea of climbing up the tree to reach those heights, and then bringing that energy back down "the lightning strike zigzagging through the ten sefirot. But in this idea, the tree not only reaches up towards the celestial, but down as well, into the depth and darkness of the "underworld," and that energy and experience is brought into relationship from both directions into a center. (Plus, blue + yellow = green, duh!)

Is this "underworld" of watery depths and darkness most appropriately called "chthonic"? I'm not sure — I haven't ever used that term much. Perhaps "oceanic" makes more sense, especially since we tend to think (even if just metaphorically) of the lands kind of "floating" on the oceans (and understanding the underground lakes and rivers, the moistness of caves, and even the liquid molten rock below the earth's crust, it makes a kind of literal sense as well). If that's the case, then, does chthonic fit well with the idea of the Tree as bridge between celestial and oceanic, and the land as a kind of "middle ground" where these two Mysteries are brought into manifestation? I can't answer that, because I don't know enough about what the word "chthonic" is supposed to imply (though my first instinct is to answer no, it doesn't quite fit). Still, the relationship between "fire" and "water" (not as elements, now, but as symbols or representatives of the realms, I guess) is something that seems to rest at the core of my Celtic spirituality…. So it's worth exploring. Perhaps I'll tidy this up a bit and post it to the DOTR group blog for some feedback.

This became a long, rambling exploration in a rather more abstract way than I'd originally intended. This was all sparked by my observation during meditation of the way the incense smoke hung together, spiraling around itself — or, the other day, cast shadows on my arms and chest as I sat in the sunlight — bringing to mind again that this smoke, and the air currents themselves, are still very much expressing themselves in calas. The air currents, though they seem invisible to the human eye, are just as distinct, real things as fire or earth (or water and its slightly less invisible currents). To the birds who fly through the air, or the dogs and other animals navigating by scent, the currents of air are palpable presences, distinct bodies with their own boundaries. A story David Abram tells in his book, Becoming Animal, illustrates this point nicely — he describes one time watching ducks flying into a hard wind, dipping here and there, testing to find the edges of the strongest current of air and where there were slips and gaps in the wall of wind coming at them that they could push their way through. For the ducks, the air was as solid and bounded a thing as the landscapes of hills and valleys, forests and fields that we walk through, looking for our own slips and gaps to help us make our way. So air has expression in calas, in the realm of form and manifestation. The invisible, the unseen still has an active presence in and engagement with the manifest world. And as I watched the incense smoke, I understand that the element of Air, too, has its limits and boundaries.

I did want to talk a little bit about some other work I've been doing, but it seems that most of the morning has passed while I've been writing this (and I haven't even done a tarot card reading!). So I'll wrap things up here and maybe come back to it later. I am going to try to be more diligent in writing down these various reflections and experiences. I swear!

Divination Exchange: Next Six Weeks

Sun: taurus (earth/fixed), 6:12am - 8:21pm
Moon: waxing crescent, cancer (water/cardinal)
Earth: chilly and even somewhat blustering, with rain on and off all day, the morning starting out bright sunny and beautiful, giving way to steady rain and then gray chill

Jeff and I decided to do an experiment tonight — a divination exchange in which we each did a reading for each other. The question we focused on was, "What advice do you have for [us] between now (Beltaine) and the Summer Solstice?"

Interestingly, we both ended up with readings with an energy flow moving from left to right (we use Robert Place's method of interpretation), making the three card spread pretty close to your typical past-present-future layout. Both of our readings seem to have to do with new projects of some kind, with caution not to burn out or push too hard, though the specifics were different for each of us. There's also some strong themes about the relationship between love and death in the left-most card, corresponding to some of the more mystic/ecstatic themes of Beltaine I was writing about recently.

Below is the reading Jeff did for me, followed by the reading I did for him. He used Robert Place's Buddha Tarot deck, while I used my usual Shadowscape Tarot. I stuck with just the simple three-card spread, while Jeff felt moved to pull a fourth "clarification" card for his reading. (He also wanted to spend some time in meditation on the cards, but was feeling really tired and so didn't get much out of it as a result).

Advice for Ali

(reading by Jeff)

Future Empress | Ace of Jewels | Six of Jewels
The Middle Path

Future Empress - This is the Buddha's wife. Before he became the Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama lived with his father, the king; and his father wished him to marry. He asked for women to come from all over the kingdom to visit Siddhartha if they wished to be his princess. He provided Siddhartha with gifts, so that the young prince could welcome them. Siddhartha welcomed them all graciously (and there were a great many), but when the last one arrived — Yasodhara — there were no gifts left. Siddhartha found himself completely captivated by her; and so he took his own royal ring from his finger and gave it to her to welcome her. They fell deeply in love, and were married.

Siddhartha's father was sure that the love of the beautiful Yasodhara would keep Siddhartha's mind occupied with the doings of this world, so that he would fulfil the prophesy by becoming a mighty emperor. But Siddhartha's love for Yasodhara (and the son she bore him) was so deep that it went far beyond earthly pleasures. Shortly after his son was born, they threw a great party, and there was dancing and drinking. Late at night, Siddhartha woke and saw all the dancers, and his wife and child, lying asleep in the moonlight. To him they seemed as if dead. This served to harden his resolve to free them all from death and suffering; so — out of love — he left them there and went away to find out how to release everyone forever.

This card corresponds to the Empress in the standard Tarot. It is a card of fertility, beauty, love, and the attractive power of desire. Associated strongly with Venus.

Ace of Jewels - Ace of Jewels corresponds to the Ace of Pentacles. New projects, especially in the physical world. The Jewel is associated at one level with satifying physical desire, but at a deeper level with satisfaction through release of desire. The Buddha presented "Three Jewels" to comfort his followers as they followed away: the Buddha himself (as an example of enlightenment), the Dharma (his teaching), and the Sangha (the monk community of fellowship).

Six of Jewels - Six of Jewels is the Six of Pentacles. In this deck it especially represents generosity and the rewards of those who are generous. Generosity: there are five basic rules of conduct in Buddhism: do not cause harm, do not steal, do not consume toxins, do not commit sexual misconduct, and do not lie. Each of these basic rules is paired with a positive version: develop love and peace, be generous, cultivate awareness, cultivate contentment, and be truthful. Generosity helps one release attachments to property and other things we think we own, such as our time, our reputations, and so on.

The Middle Path - While Siddhartha was seeking enlightenment, he was a student of many teachers. One common kind of practice in India at this time was asceticism, in which the body was put under great stresses, such as fasting, self-harm, and the like. The idea was that by denying the pleasures (and needs) of the flesh, one could rise above it. Siddhartha was extremely good at this, and many of his teachers were sure he was going to be a great yogi. He gathered followers of his own, who were amazed at his devotion. Eventually he pushed himself so close to death that he could barely eat or drink at all; but still he was no closer to salvation. The desire for enlightenment itself had become a barrier to enlightenment. So he gave up on it and began to nurse himself back to health. His followers, not understanding, and disgusted at his weakness, left him; but he didn't care. After a little more time, as he sat begging, a woman brought him a big bowl of rice. He took this and divided it into 49 parts, deciding to eat this over the next 49 days as he sat in meditation under the bodhi tree. He resolved not to get up from that spot until he had achieved enlightenment.

The commentary card, The Middle Path, corresponds to the Temperance card. There is a lot of energy in this reading, a lot of motion, and my intuition is that the Temperance card is there to advise taking it easy with the new project and not burning out on it.

Advice for Jeff

(reading by Ali)

Judgement | Hanged Man | Page of Pentacles

Judgement (XX) - A call to new beginnings, restoration and wholeness, absolution and forgiveness. New life arising from death, a time of joy and rebirth. The trials and tribulations have passed and you are called, by destiny or a greater purpose, into renewed life in the light of a new dawn. Also, a time to reflect on the past and understand how the actions of yesterday have helped to shape today.

Hanged Man (XII) - Self-sacrifice, especially for the greater good. A time of release and surrender, letting go of the effort and will normally exerted towards concrete or practical accomplishments; instead, withdrawing into solitude, contemplation or more mystic/"spiritual" pursuits. "Turning the world upside down" to gain new perspective. This may be a period of difficulty - it depends on how willing or unwilling the sacrifice is.

Page of Pentacles - Opportunities for new growth and prosperity, a spark of initiative and potential offered. Grounded in earthy qualities like diligence, responsibility and practicality - relying on the tools and resources at hand - there is still a certain lightness and playfulness that accompanies every new beginning or intriguing opportunity. Also suggests an enjoyment of physical pleasures of the five senses, possibly in particular an engagement in nature (perhaps a literal garden?).

The Story - The energy of the cards doesn't seem to have one clear direction. The Angel of Judgement faces to the left to sound her call, but both the Hanged Man and the Page seem to face forward or out of the card (though the Hanged Man's body is turned to face towards the right, his head hangs down so that he's looking almost behind him). Considering the association of the Judgement card with the events of the past and the Page of Pentacles being associated with new opportunities, there is some indication that the energies should be read from left to right like a simple past-present-future spread. In this case, Judgement might be strongly indicative of the transformation and new life of spring (associated so strongly with Beltaine, especially with the undertones of death and "breaking free"). The Page of Pentacles might be associated closely in time with the Solstice, then - perhaps in a very literal way, as a time when your activities and projects are "bearing fruit" in the form of new opportunities or potential being realized… but in a way that still demands continued steady work and commitment in a very practical, grounded way. In the meantime, there's a suggestion, by the Hanged Man, of acceptance or surrender, perhaps a period of rest and release, turning inward to seek the inner wisdom of spirit… or perhaps simply in preparation for the work to come, in order to gain some new perspective or insight that might be useful for taking full advantage of those future opportunities when they arise.

Diary

Sun: taurus (earth/fixed), 6:28 am - 8:09pm
Moon: last quarter, aquarius (air/fixed)
Earth: bright and sunny for most of the day, warm (in the high 70s) for the first time this spring, with thunderstorms moving in as dusk fell with a soft rain

"Sometimes you have to take a break from being the kind of a boss who's always trying to teach people things. Sometimes, you just have to be the Boss of Dancing."

- Michael Scott

Before I begin, I just want to make one quick note: I'm using Dragon dictation to write this diary entry. This is a software program I've begun using for work, and I figured I'd use it to write this diary entry to kill two birds with one stone. But using dictation software is very different from typing, so I'm not sure how it will go. sentences may seem awkward at first, especially since I can't correct or change my mind halfway through. Once I begin a sentence, I have to commit to finishing it. So if my sentences seem awkward, please forgive me, and hopefully I'll improve as I use the software more.

This morning I spent some time in meditation out in the backyard, as it was such a beautiful day, bright and sunny right from the start, and it's been a long time since I've spent any time in meditation on a regular basis. I realized that I reached a point where I was hesitant to meditate because I was afraid I would be out of practice. But remembering that there are external forms to ritual that I can rely on and that can help me ease back in to the more in-depth practice that I'm seeking, I decided to go ahead and jump back into regular practice. It held that the weather was so gorgeous, because it gave me an excuse to go outside and just sit and allow myself to relax and return to my breathing. my other intention was to try to reconnect with the earth and the land in this immediate area, especially because of the hydrocracking spill that occurred last week up in northern Pennsylvania. I've been wanting to write an article about it for the new blog, No Unsacred Place, but haven't known how to approach the topic in any coherent way. I strive for certain amount of poetic oppression, and that deep connection to the earth that can help me find the right words to express the importance of this issue. I am not exactly a news person or a fat person, I don't have very much confidence in listing all the evidence. I feel like my most moving pieces , my best kind of writing, is when I am able to draw from my personal experience—and yet, this is not something that I and experiencing personally. The world around me seems beautiful and healthy, and my only knowledge about this disaster comes from things I've read in the news or seen online. So I wanted to try to connect to the earth and reach out to the land to listen to what the land has say about the experience of this pollution and this tragedy. But I'm out of practice, and even if I weren't, I don't know if I would be able to listen like that to the land. I have had only fleeting experiences of the kind of connection that I've heard of in books, the tales of shamans from indigenous cultures and healers and even other pagans. Salons struggling to balance this lack of knowledge and lack of personal experience with my fear that I can't connect to the land in the way that I need to, that I won't be able to talk meaningfully about some of these very serious problems that deserve to be addressed.

This is tangentially related to some feelings I was having later this evening, that I think might be related to my Saturn return, and Jeff agrees with me with on that—he says that he read something this morning about how today would be a day of either great confidence or great self-doubt for most people all over the world. The stellium that was going on in Aries is finally coming to an end as most of the planets leave one by one, and Mercury has finally gone direct again. that might be one reason why I haven't been updating in this diary very much recently, there's been so much energy and intensity, and I focused it mostly on work and getting things done. In that way, I've been pretty successful. I've managed to launch my new website can, which looks fantastic, and get No Unsacred Place off the ground running, with lots of good posts from a number of different people. I'm doing well with my transcription work, and I have a plan for the next several months about various writing projects I want to undertake. But today, I found myself really bothered by a conversation on Facebook. I made the mistake of sharing a controversial article about the connection between autism and vaccinations that set—well, I was going to say a number of people, but that's just not true, it's really only one person whose opinion I value a great deal—in any case, I obviously have a problem being made of cool love in public. (So that sentence actually read, “being made a fool of”—but the mistaken transcription made me smile, so I'm going to leave it.)

The thing is, I don't know about the science behind vaccinations. I don't have time to know everything. But I do have personal experience of modern medicine, and how people are treated sometimes very poorly if they are viewed as lower class, or incompetent, or sometimes just female. Because I didn't have insurance the last time I went to the doctor, I was treated as though I were a know-nothing who couldn't be trusted to tie my own shoes, let alone keep myself healthy. A doctor told me in all seriousness that if my injured arm continued to hurt, that I should just take Vicodin to make the pain go away. The time before, when I was in a great deal of pain because of a urinary tract infection, the antibiotics they prescribed made me vomit so often I almost died of dehydration, and would have if just haven't been there to force me to drink Gatorade when I could barely sit up in bed. But when I returned to the doctor later, he told me that it must have been in my head because you can't be allergic to antibiotics. He proceeded to blame my anemia on being a vegetarian, even though I was diagnosed with and had suffered symptoms for years before becoming a vegetarian, and was able to mitigate my anemia once I gave up meat. To be treated with such disrespect is not an uncommon experience for a lot of people when they go to doctors and hospitals today, especially if they have a misunderstood disease or don't have the insurance to cover the treatment they might need. So I'm not surprised that parents are worried about what will happen to their children as a result of all of the vaccinations and drugs that are so blithely prescribed by doctors who sometimes don't really seem to care what your opinion is or whether or not you know what's going on or what's going into your body.

But none of that really matters. Parents who believed that there might be a connection between infant and childhood vaccinations and the increase in autism and other problematic diseases have been classified as nut cases, and anyone who states an argument even remotely agreeing with their perspective is dismissed. It bothers me that I don't know the science to back up the personal experience that I have had and I know others have had. It bothers me that debates cannot be nuanced or subtle, and that even people who I respect are very easier to demonize and to listen to spook stories and deride those who don't agree with them or don't know as much of them, rather than trying to be compassionate or educate them. And it really bothers me when a person uses the excuse of “being a parent of young children.” As if people who disagree with them couldn't possibly have families of their own or couldn't possibly be responsible parents themselves.

I think what bothers me most is the feeling that I can never know enough to be respected. I don't know if it's sexism or ageism or something else, or just in my head. But it often feels as though no matter how hard I study, no matter how eloquently I write, no matter how my ideas are born out by events and experiences, that I am rarely taken seriously, or if I am, it's treated as a one time thing, almost a miracle, unexpected at the very least. I feel resentful and bitter towards leaders in the pagan community to act as gatekeepers and whose recommendations are seen as the final word about what to value and who to listen to. I work my ass off. But often times, I feel as though I have no idea what will be viewed as valuable an intelligent by others, and what will be seen as arrogant, or confusing, or obscure, or just plain dull. I want to do work that is valuable and important, and work that stems from my personal experience and my view of the world, and yet sometimes it seems that it is precisely that kind of work, work that relies on and is rooted in personal experience instead of objective facts or the consensus of the majority, that is derided or dismissed.

Who is my authority? This is the question that Saturn prompts me to ask this coming year. Maybe the lesson is that I shouldn't try to talk about things that I haven't personally experienced. Yet that just doesn't seem right, not when so many things around me deserve to be talked about and need to be brought to people's attention. What about this spill up in northern Pennsylvania, that hardly anyone is paying attention to? I don't know. Maybe this is my fear of being irrelevant, and I should overcome it and trust that the experiences that I have are truly valuable. Maybe this is just the old fear that I live a protected and cushy life, and I have nothing to say of value unless I'm talking about tragedies that are going on elsewhere, over there, to those other people. Or maybe this is just all nonsense. I'm tired of having these debates. I'm tired of always having to justify myself and prove myself. I don't even know if I'm trying to prove myself to other people, or to myself, or some combination of the two. And I can't help but think that a lot of people must be feeling this right now. I know that I'm an intelligent person, and I have a good education that has continued to expand on my own time and with my own resources. What about those people who don't have those opportunities? Again, I can't help but feel like we need to have more compassion for people who might hold theories that seem crazy or kooky or wrong. But when I tried to say this, especially in the context where I shared something that turned out to be incorrect, it's so easy to accuse me of just trying to change the conversation and avoid acknowledging that I was wrong. (And of course, I don't even know that I am wrong, all I have is the word of other people who disagree with me for their own reasons.)

The incense wafts in the air. The candle burns steady. These things I experienced right now, as they are. I am not crazy for thinking that these things are meaningful, that they change the world and they change me through my willingness to experience them. How do I translate this into work that is meaningful for other people? Is this kind of frustration a good thing, something that I should embrace and acknowledge as a necessary reminder, a stick that will urge me on? Or is it something that I should leave behind? I used to always face into my fears, chasing them down in the belief that they would leave me to a deeper truth. Is this that kind of fear, or the kind that should be shrugged off and forgotten as silly? Maybe I should embrace the idea that I will be viewed as a ditz or a fool or, gods forbid, just a woman. May be there is a kind of freedom in that. I don't know. I could go around in circles all night with this question. I don't even know why it bothers me so much, but it's been on my mind all night.

I think, regardless of anything else, that I do need to return to my practice of centering and grounding, and renew my commitment to regular prayer and meditation. Even if it doesn't bring me any clarity on these types of issues, at least perhaps it'll get my mind to shut up for a little while and stop worrying over things that might not be all that important in the grand scheme. In any case, it's getting rather late, and I think I should end this.

I apologize for any strange wordings or typos. I've tried to catch most of them, but I'm still getting used to using this dictation software. Just being able to talk it out in a clear, articulate voice has actually helped me feel better about some of these issues. So maybe this will become a regular practice of mine. Or maybe not.

Diary Tarot Card

As I dealt out the cards, my mind wandering, a thought occurred to me: that when we worry too much about being perfect in our writing and our words, we assume a certain passivity in our readers and the community who receives the products of our creativity. Maybe there is a place, instead, for trust—trust that, even if our words are not perfect or our work salvific, that they will be received in such a way that they will have the right effect anyway. I think of Merton and detractors who talk about his ideas as dangerous and self-absorbed, and yet so many people have been drawn to contemplation and mysticism through his writing. Even if he was a self-absorbed sex-maniac (as some folks tell it), his writings still have a blessing effect on many. Maybe that's the best we can hope for.


© Stephanie Pui-Mun Law, The Shadowscape Tarot

The Knight of Cups follows his dreams, the idealist and romantic who listens deeply to the stirrings of connection and emotion at the heart of things and follows the promptings of his intuition. He is almost reckless in his pursuit of those ideals, sure that his faithfulness and honest devotion will bear him to those dreams he seeks.

The King of Swords sits poised, a portrait in stilled movement, a thinker gazing abstractly over his realm. He is balance and reason, the weighing of night and day, art and science brought to bear on one another. Clarity of vision and depth of insight, thought and memory, are his guides. He does not go out seeking on a quest, but sends his thoughts flying to the farthest realms while he remains, a pillar of strength and intelligence.

Meanwhile, in the Six of Cups is a reminder of childhood innocence and open-mindedness, an embrace of all the possibilities the world holds. It is a card of simple joys and pleasures, and an imaginative engagement with the world that prompts a response in kind. The little girl sets her table and pours her tea, never minding that grown-ups might not believe or might claim she's only imagining—and sure enough, the faeries slip in to share her simple, playful ritual with her, welcomed guests for once not shuffled off with skepticism and disbelief.

The cards in this spread present a clear movement from right to left, as each figure seems to move into the next. The Knight of Cups, with his idealism and romanticism, might represent the initial urge at the beginning of the journey, the spark that sets the whole thing rolling. Perhaps in this case, it represents the higher pull of justice and peace that I feel, that drives me towards… the King of Swords, that desire to see clearly across the whole realm, to become, through knowledge and clarity of insight, a ruler even over life and death, day and night. In the King of Swords card, the movement of the Knight is stilled and restrained, reigned in to be refined and directed wisely, without undue haste or recklessness. In this spread, it's almost as though the stillness in the King of Swords makes space for the innocence and play in the Six of Cups—while at the same time, the Sword card is the fulcrum on which everything turns, so that if the call of idealism is the urge that begins the journey, the exercise of careful thought and clarity of insight is the way the journey is made, even in the midst of seeming stillness. And what both of these lead towards is that expression of innocence and imagination—that is what, in the end, has the power to change the world, evoking engagement and relationship. Piercing intelligence is stilled and respectfully restrained in the presence of creativity. Again, there is that message of the stilled sword—the sword held up to cast light, rather than to strike a killing blow. Again and again, this symbolism comes up. Something to ponder for the future.

Diary

Days of Note: Seakeeping with Manannan

Sun: pisces (water/mutable), 7:32am - 7:27pm
Moon: *waxing gibbous, leo (fire/fixed)
Earth: gray, somewhat chilly and rainy all day, though at least we seem to be safely past the snowy season, if not the morning frosts

I'm raging again tonight. Every once in a while I get into moods where everyone just strikes me as stupid and selfish and, despite my pacifism, I want to kick people in the head.

What set me off this evening was reading Rand Paul's rant about low-flow toilets. How a grown man can throw such a self-entitled tantrum that would make our eight-year-old roll his eyes, and do so as a member of an elected government.... ! Jeff insists he's just blinded by his particular ideology, to which I responded, "Well I'd like to kick him in the head so that he would be blinded by my foot in his face!" Low-flow toilets! Of all the things! Like there aren't people who use a bucket or a hole in the ground... like there aren't people in this country who do it by choice as part of their effort to live an environmentally respectful lifestyle, recycling their own byproducts through their compost toilets and giving themselves back to the earth, ensuring there will be enough clean water for the rest of us. And meanwhile, studies are rolling in that those most disproportionately affected by the climate change crisis are those who tend to contribute the least to the world's pollution — those who live impoverished and close to the land — while studies show that we Americans with our air-conditioned SUVs rumbling around the suburbs are growing increasingly less worried about climate change in recent years. It drives me nuts!

And then my cousin, who can sometimes be a bit, well, judgmental, makes a passing remark on Facebook about how as a journalist she used to hate interviewing writers because they always had such big egos. Which, even if it's not an intentional swipe at me personally, still feels like one. Like there's this whole nobility that comes with struggle and failure, like those of us who are passionate about our work shouldn't dare take pride in our accomplishments — or like working to cultivate a thriving community of "niche" readers in love with your subject matter means you're still just a "little fish in a huge sea" and shouldn't imagine that what you do is actually -laugh- important!

Then the irony hits me.

I can't fully articulate it, but there must be a lesson here, about judgement and kindness and rage and passion. And community. What strikes me over and over is how hard it is to save the world each on our own. Every effort Jeff and I make, every step we take towards a healthier lifestyle is one that we take, firstly, as a family, and secondly, as members of our local community. It would be impossible to do this if we didn't live in an urban neighborhood with stores within biking and walking distance, if we didn't have the local co-op with organic, local produce, if we didn't have restaurants nearby specializing in vegetarian and organic cuisine, if we didn't have neighbors and community volunteer programs involved with keeping the city parks clean and available, or protecting the local landscape from developers and corporations. And still, I feel like I'm not doing enough. And when I think of folks in the suburbs, I get angry. I get judgmental.

What I should probably be doing is seeking kindness, and passion. Passion will connect and grow, where rage only isolates and repulses. Kindness opens people up to the possibility that they are good enough, that a good and healthy life doesn't have to be one of desperation and frustration and struggle. There is nothing wrong with taking pride in what we do to help one another and improve the quality of life for ourselves. Harping on how hard and tiring it is to drag American culture along by its teeth into the realities of the twenty first century isn't going to win anyone over. If change and health is something that we can only find in community (with each other, and with the earth), then first we have to nurture and share those things that help to foster community: joy, laughter, kindness, generosity, and gratitude.

I can feel the rage like a physical entity in my body. When I sit for a moment and breathe, I can feel how close that rage is to love and excitement, how easy it is to change my mind about the physical sensations coursing through this meat-space of mine. In a few breaths, that energy is transformed and directed, no longer a destructive force that wants out through clenched fists and tensed muscles, but now something that I can work with, shape and direct to transform the world.

This is what daily practice is for. This is why meditation and prayer are so absolutely vital. The tools to transform rage and anger and frustration and fear — to change them from the center. To reform and redirect, to refine and renew. I can do this. I can learn to do this.

Diary Tarot Card

© Stephanie Pui-Mun Law, The Shadowscape Tarot

The King of Pentacles stands sure and steady in the center, presenting a choice or offering alternatives. A figure of stability and generosity rooted deeply in the earth, he remains grounded and humble (close to humus) even as his aspirations reach ever higher towards the sun and rain above. The choices he presents, with his wise guidance, are two alternatives, two ways of handling the energies of the earth that well up within, drawn from the roots and gathered in from the limbs.

The Nine of Wands is a choice that brings us constant vigilance and resolve, tensed with uncertainty, straining into the future and what it may hold. The lone sentinel astride his mount, poised on the cliff, already worn with previous battles and perhaps overly eager to see strife and conflict in what's to come.

The Four of Wands, on the other hand, is a choice of freedom and joy, celebration and jubilation, finding harmony and balance among our energies so that, through them, we discover our freedom and lightness of being. Lush flowers bloom below as the sun shines above, and we discover ourselves not alone, but part of a community dancing and bounding with gladness through the beauty-charged landscape.

Both these choices lead in the same direction. The center figure, the King, holds his arms out in an equal length cross from his chest, reaching towards each. But to his left, the Nine of Wands, his open hand is lost in shadow, while to his right, his open palm shines in sunlight, holding the glimmering, golden acorn, seed of great and mighty things to come. Prosperity, generosity and stability come not from the battle-weary and bitter, but from the energies of joy and gladness shared in community, which lead back to the center, back to the feet of the King himself.