The High Priestess

2: The High Priestess


She sits placidly between the pillars of the Temple of Solomon, Boaz and Jerochim. She wears simple blue robes, the book of wisdom (TORA) resting in her lap, half concealed, half revealed. Upon her head she wears the crown of Isis, queen mother of the Egyptian goddesses and mistress of magic, while the crescent moon of the subconscious lies at her feet. The equal-armed solar cross is displayed prominently on her chest. Behind her, the temple veil conceals the mysteries of the temple within. Its pattern bears a pattern of pomegranates, symbol of Persephone, who ate four pomegranate seeds and was bound to spend four months in Hades every year as a result.

The High Priestess rules over the mysteries of the subconscious. She expresses the need to trust your intuition, to look for meaning in your dreams, to understand and respect your instincts. She represents the notion that some things aren't taught or learned, but can only be found by looking within.

A brief history of Valentine's Day

Come back with me to ancient Rome, and the festivals that honored Juno - wife of the great Jupiter, possibly better known to you by their Greek names, Zeus and Hera.

Juno is the goddess of childbirth and marriage. February is a month of endings and beginnings, of the quickening of imminent spring and the falling away of winter, of the time when the land begins to warm and animals begin their search for a mate. (Must keep in mind that this is in the Italian climate, for those of us northern-dwellers who are well aware winter has not yet lost its grip.) Tradition has it that the feast of Juno Februara, held on February 14, had single women place their names into boxes where they were drawn by a man, and the couple would spend the day together.

Lupercalia, a fertility festival, was held from February 13-15, and is fairly bizarre even by Roman standards. Its purpose was to cleanse the city of evil spirits and promote fertility. It was in honor of the Lupa, the she-wolf that suckled the twins Romulus and Remus who are the legendary founders of Rome. It was celebrated near the Cave of the Lupercal on the Palatine hill, where the city was founded. The rite itself, described by Plutarch, is one of those scenes that makes me want to time-travel to the ancient world:

Lupercalia, of which many write that it was anciently celebrated by shepherds, and has also some connection with the Arcadian Lycaea. [Note: Arcadia is a region in central Greece; 'lykos' is Greek for 'wolf.'] At this time many of the noble youths and of the magistrates run up and down through the city naked, for sport and laughter striking those they meet with shaggy thongs. And many women of rank also purposely get in their way, and like children at school present their hands to be struck, believing that the pregnant will thus be helped in delivery, and the barren to pregnancy.

So, ladies, today while you're smelling your roses - the news has just informed me that this day is a multi-billion-dollar industry what with flowers, chocolate and gifts - think of a simpler time, where well-bred boys ran naked through the streets and you hoped to be struck with fertility by the flayed skin of a sacrificed goat. 

Of course the modern holiday gets its name from St Valentine, who may or may not have existed, but the story goes like this: in the Middle Ages, a priest named Valentine was secretly marrying young men who didn't want to go to war - married men were at that time exempt from the 'draft' if they were married - and when the lords discovered what he was doing, had him thrown into prison. While awaiting his inevitable beheading for treason, he reportedly fell in love with a servant girl, with whom he exchanged anonymous notes - the reason we give anonymous Valentine's cards today.

Love is a magical thing. It both inspires us and fills us with despair; it has been a driving force behind human actions since the beginning of our species. When I was a little girl, my mother gave me this piece of wisdom: love is not an emotion, it is an action. It requires us to do, not just to feel. As the song goes, love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night. To change our way of caring about ourselves. 

May you have a day full of love, and feel inspired to tell those you love that you care. As for me, I have a date - a first date - and I am daring to be excited. Because love is all about possibility. 

The Magician

One of my favorite cards, in part just because it's beautiful artwork, but also, of course, for what it represents.

1: The Magician

The Magician, dressed in red and white, and surrounded by red roses and white lilies (passion and purity), holds his wand aloft, while directing energy down into the earth with his other hand. His belt is Ouroboros, the snake that eats its tail, signifying eternity; he is crowned by the cosmic lemniscate, symbol of infinity. Before him lie the symbols of the suits, i.e., the elements - the tools with which he manifests his will from thought into being.

Because this is what the Magician represents: the power of the will, the ability to manifest one's thoughts into reality. This is a primary rule of metaphysics, the notion that what one conceives, one can will into being. By focusing upon what is wanted, channeling that desire into physical action, one can bring into reality whatever is needed.

It's power, and it's not particularly mysterious. It does require discipline and knowledge - to ascertain exactly what is wanted and bring it about means knowing yourself and having a clear idea of what is required to manifest it into reality. Oftentimes people get tripped up on the first step - knowing what they want. Vague notions are not helpful here. The goal must be clear.

Once you know what you want, it isn't especially difficult to lay out the steps required to make it happen. But, ah, that's the onion - doing what is necessary to bring it about, that's a challenge.

The Magician tells us that we can take what we want from the universe and make it our own, if we have the will - and the tools - to make it so.

Tarot Study: The Fool

I'd like to work through the Rider-Waite deck, starting in the Major Arcana. These are my interpretations, based on what I have read and my own experiences in reading over the years.

0: The Fool



The fool is the prankster, the traveler, the seeker, one who moves restlessly bringing excitement and/or havoc in his wake. He dances precariously close to the edge of the precipice, but he hasn't a care in the world. The sun shines on him, his faithful dog jumps eagerly alongside. Everything he owns is contained in the pack on his shoulder and he carries a white rose of purity and innocence.

In a reading the Fool often represents the querent, for the Fool is the Seeker. He can signify a journey or a quest of some kind. He may indicate blind optimism, plunging ahead without thought of consequence.

Reversed, the Fool may suggest impulsive or foolhardy decisions, a leap-before-you-look mentality. It may indicate a journey delayed, or unexpected obstacles.

It's always important to remember that the cards are read together - always take note of the surrounding cards in a reading and use their totality to determine what they might be telling you. And above all, remember that the cards do not tell us what will happen. They are an illustration of the current state of things, and what may unfold if the present course is continued.

Spring in February

I've always chuckled at the notion of Groundhog Day - here in the middle latitudes of the northern hemisphere, it is a given that on February 2 there is always going to be six more weeks of winter.

It was uncommonly beautiful today, though - in the upper 50s, bright and sunny, not a cloud in the sky. Half a million people piled into the streets and Civic Center Park for the Broncos' victory parade. I wasn't one of them, but it was great to watch the live feed after going for a long brisk walk at lunch.

Walking is my favorite and most consistently practiced form of exercise. It's the one thing I can do every day, even when it's cold; the only thing that keeps me inside is rain, snow, or the occasional gale-force winds we get around here.

It's imperative to be outside. I don't know how people run on treadmills. A colleague of mine goes for her walks in a parking garage. Me, I have to have the sun on my skin, the breeze on my face, gravel crunching under my boots.

Okay, so it was a paved bike/walk path, but you get the idea.

There is something sacred and inimitable about being outside. Fresh air in the lungs and sunshine warming the skin are the things that make me feel alive. Crows chattering in the trees, rabbits and squirrels darting around lawns, pools of meltwater from rapidly disappearing snow drifts, are positively sacred. They remind me of why life is beautiful, and every hour that I get away from my computer to soak up the sun is an hour spent in the church of Pagan.

Nature is divine. We are blessed every time we step outdoors, if only we open our eyes to see.

Releasing Spell

Releasing a Terrible Day

Before bed, dress a white candle with basil or rose oil. Light a calming incense: myrrh, lavender, frankincense, or sandalwood are good.

Breathe deeply of the scent and close your eyes.

I breathe in peace
I exhale tension
This day has brought havoc,
dissatisfaction, frustration.
This is part of the cycle
All things must pass
and this shall too
I release this day
and all of its trials.
I welcome Somnos' gift of sleep.
I trust in tomorrow
I thank the gods for all I have,
mindful of blessings,
grateful for another day.


"Sleep is the poor man's physician," as the saying goes. I recommend it.

Tomorrow is another day.

Imbolc

Otherwise known as Groundhog Day. I'm not sure, actually, what the relation is between the two traditions, but Punxsatawney Phil saw his shadow today and thus predicts an early spring. I'll take it!


Imbolc, at any rate, is an ancient Irish tradition. It is a cross-quarter festival, that is, halfway between the major turning points of Winter and Spring. In Christian tradition it's the feast of St Brigid, an Irish saint, probably descended from the Celtic goddess of the same name. Brigid was an important goddess, patron of poetry, arts, cattle and livestock, and wells, among other things, and is invoked on this holiday as a plea for an early spring.

It's a festival of light - the returning light that comes with longer days and signifies the rebirth of the earth and the coming of spring. The simplest rituals include lighting a new white candle as dusk falls, and taking it through the house, bringing new light to the abode. Remove any leftover greenery from Yule; you can burn it, and save the ashes for planting with the spring garden. I like another simple tradition, which is to put on a light in every room in the house, even if just for a few minutes.

A symbol of Brigid and of Imbolc is the Brigid's cross. I seem to recall making these in elementary school.

I'm not feeling the early spring just yet, since we got a foot of snow last night! Nevertheless, I'm getting that itch to start planning my garden. Anyone else getting a little spring fever?