Pisces 11 and 12

One of my most important spiritual teachers is an astrologer by trade, and I'm erstwhile her astrology student. I used to think astrology was a bunch of nonsense and hokum. But then I met my teacher, Linda, and I couldn't deny the genius expressed in her understanding of this complicated art. I still have only the smallest idea of what's going on or what she's talking about, but Linda's way of doing astrology makes each person the hero of her own life and each life replete with meaning.

I have come to understand myself as an initiate because of two symbols that appear in my natal astrological chart (the snapshot of the sky taken at the minute of my birth from the perspective of my location on earth). First, my sun is at Pisces 11 (in the 11th house). The Sabian symbol for Pisces 11 is: A group of serious eyed, earnest faced men are seeking illumination and are conducted into a massive sanctuary. Second, my north node is conjunct my sun, at Pisces 12, the symbol for which is: A convocation of the Lodge of Initiates has bought the earth's glorious souls in spirit to examine the candidates.

The sun represents the meaning of one's life. The north node represents where one is headed in this lifetime. That my sun and north node are conjunct means that the meaning of my life and where I'm headed in life (my north star, if you will) are in sync. To me, both of these symbols are deeply spiritual. They make sense to me as someone who has sought meaning and the Divine her whole life.

While an initiate has mastered a body of knowledge in order to be initiated, she is also very much at the beginning of something: she us up for examination, she is being ushered into a sanctuary. At first this idea of being a beginner, not a master, chafed my ego: "Well crap, in this lifetime I only ever get to be a newbie?"

But I assume the mantle of initiate with reverence anyway, and I remind myself of the archetypal importance of the beginner (for example, the Fool in the tarot). My life snaps into narrative focus--it makes sense--when I remember myself as an initiate, when I narrate my life as a story of initiations. The story of undergoing an initiation is a way to make sense of and revere difficult times, because initiation isn't easy. Inanna had to give up her very life, her flesh and bones. The old saying that in childbirth a woman descends to the underworld to retrieve the soul of her child isn't an unfair description of my experience in labor.

As for my nom de blog, I chose it before I understood anything about myself as an initiate. But now I think it makes lovely, prescient sense.

Embodying the abundant universe

(From the Gaian Tarot by Joanna Powell Colbert)

I believe as a tenet of faith that the universe--the Goddess, the Mother--provides what we need in abundance. Always.

This belief doesn't reside in my intellect, if you will, but in my gut. My brain easily generates myriad reasons why this belief is false; begin with the reality of poverty. But my belief, which relies on faith, isn't so much a proposition against which to marshal arguments. It is, rather, a way of understanding the world. It functions like a background assumption. (I'm well aware of problems with confirmation bias, but I'm not doing science here. Grant me poetic license.)

I think that whether or not this belief (or way of understanding the world) comes easily to you depends on the circumstances of your early life. That's not to say that we can't come to believe that the universe provides for our needs in abundance even if the circumstances of early life were meager in the relevant sense. The first step in coming to believe is realizing that we believe otherwise; for example, to realize that we're acting from an assumption of penury, that we believe fundamentally that life is hard, that we're its victims, that we're undeserving, that things never get better, that people are out to get us. Thus we uncover our operating assumptions. We work to accept that we have them (and acceptance is no small feat, though I give it short shrift here). And we begin to pay attention to all the hints we're given that assumptions of scarcity are false. When people make gratitude a practice, that's what they're doing: they're paying attention; they're counting their blessings.

(I've had a hard time with the idea of practicing gratitude because I have an old belief that I don't deserve my many blessings. Gratitude is, in my mind, and for biographical reasons, linked with feelings of guilt and undeservingness.)

Very early in one's life sojourn, one learns on a basic, physical, preverbal level that the universe provides for one's needs, or one learns that it doesn't. I think I'm lucky; I got the message, somehow, that my needs would be met. Maybe I carried that belief into this life with me. (My "soul card," in tarot, is the Empress. Both my rising sign and my Pluto carry the message, too.) Maybe my faith formed as the result of responsive early mothering. (Thanks, Mom!) Things--mostly thoughts--have happened to occlude my faith, but I think that at its foundation it's solid. It is a glorious piece of luck.

I know that as I spend these early weeks with my child, my one task, as I see it, is literally to embody for him the abundant universe. He's still coming into this life; he's new here. How is the world as he finds it? There is a lot of big, scary, uncertain stuff that he doesn't need to know about yet. But he is almost always held. We hold him bare skin against bare skin. We hold him in the sunlight streaming through our bedroom windows. We carry him, we sleep next to him, we wear him in a sling. He is never away from us. He is never left alone. We sing and babble and kiss him and make jokes. He is always fed when, or even before, he asks. There is plenty to eat. He is kept dry and clean and warm. That big, loud beast, the dog, is his friend. He shows no fear.

And there is a huge, excited, welcoming, loving community holding him and his parents. We were held during the birth by an extended network of friends. Witches worked magic for him. Astrologers watched the sky. Gifts continue to arrive. People come to visit. Home-cooked dinners appear on our doorstep every other day; his body is literally being built by the community. I'm in awe of the generosity, love, and good will engendered by this small being.

He affirms my faith in all things good.

Full moon in Gemini

(Virgen de Guadalupe by Susan Grice; image found here.)


Today is the full moon in Gemini 22: Dancing couples crowd the barn in a harvest festival.

This degree Symbol is about celebrating the warmth and providence of the earth, the joy of nature's harvest, joining with others to celebrate, the reality of rhythmical or seasonal adjustments, agriculture, good old-time values, going out, having fun, listening and dancing to music, barns and dance halls.

Today's full moon is at its perigree for the year, the closest to the earth it will come. I don't think it will be visible where I am, given the cloud cover. But do try to see it if you can! Go here to read Lynda's full report for the day.

Today is also the feast day of the Virgen de Guadalupe, one of my favorite faces of the Goddess, beloved in Mexico and the southwestern U.S. Despite her roots in Catholicism, I consider her a goddess native to the Americas.

Today is the first day of the We'Moon calendar for the upcoming year. The theme for the year is "At the Crossroads." Since 2000, We'Moon has been progressing through the major arcana of the tarot for its yearly themes. 2009 is card 9, the hermit or the crone; Hecate the crone rules the crossroads. At the crossroads, our elders and ancestors, those who walked the path before us, serve as our guides. Read a statement of alliance from the International Council of 13 Indigenous Grandmothers here (and in the new We'Moon).

Today I'm ordering herbs to restock my pantry in preparation for birth and days postpartum. There is still cleaning and stocking to do before the little one, due at the new moon, arrives.

Mugwort, sixes, and mothers

This morning one of my coworkers walked into my office bearing a bunch of mugwort perhaps a foot in diameter and taller than either of us - six feet, at least. I've got it propped up in the office now; the scent is wonderful. I may tincture some; I'll make smudge sticks and dry the rest for tea and, perhaps, dream pillows.

Mugwort, Artemesia vulgaris, promotes lucid and prophetic dreaming. You can take the tincture before bedtime, drink a tea made from the dried herb, or smoke or smudge the dried herb. Although it's called "common wormwood," it's not to be confused with Artemesia absinthium, which is the plant used in making absinthe.

Joanna Powell Colbert is working on the sixes of the Gaian Tarot. Yesterday she posted the six of water (cups). Last week was the six of fire (wands). (While you're there, you can read my fan-girl gushing.) Traditionally, the sixes are about finding new balance or equilibrium. Joanna is reinterpreting the sixes, however; in her deck, "the sixes are all about peak experiences in community, and each shows some kind of reciprocity." Given that the sixes correlate to the Lovers in the major arcana, Joanna's interpretation, while fresh, still seems to me to keep spirit with more traditional readings.

Finally, Lunaea Weatherstone has written a beautiful tribute to her teacher Shekhinah Mountainwater, who died on Saturday of cancer. I remember finding a copy of Shekhinah's book Ariadne's Thread in a used bookstore in Arcata, CA several years ago. That's when I was still a very cautious, not-sure-I-want-to-be-a-Pagan Pagan, but I was in love with the California coast and the beautiful trees of the Headwaters Forest, in love with Moonrise Herbs, and finding that book was just one of many signs that I was on my path.

Jason Pitzl-Waters has also posted a fine tribute. I particularly like this statement from Shekhinah's son, Frey Faust: "She was a creative mother, and she was very disciplined as an artist herself. Nature was important to her. Values were important to her. She was never interested in monetary wealth."

Safe passage, Shekhinah.

Back to school

I'm lying on the couch with puppy Lugh, who sleeps and sleeps. We're supposed to go for a walk, but he's a lazy pup, and I'm a lazy mama. I'm exhausted, in a happy way, after my first fall weekend at mystery school. The transformations take my breath away. This year is my third year; in June, I'll graduate. Next year prepares my class for ordination. In the fifth year, we'll begin training as teachers. I have two healing relationships with classmates this year - I'm someone's healer, and someone else is my healer. My healer and I are going for an astrology session together on Thursday afternoon to learn more about how we are in relationship. She bought the Idiot's Guide to Wicca when she learned she would be my healer. I thought that was such a sweet gesture.

My grandma is still on this side of the veil, having informed my mother in the middle of the "it's ok to let go" talk that Jesus knows she's not ready to go yet. She's 96! She bought a new car late last year. What can I say? I have tenacity in my genes.

Mabon approaches, and Adonis and I are planning to drive to Rochester for Pagan Pride on Saturday. I'm engaged in a leisurely, self-led tarot investigation/meditation, living with a card on my altar, watching for its energies in my life, then writing a brainstorm in my tarot journal. I know when it's time to move on to the next card. So far, I'm up to the High Priestess. I'm using three decks, the Rider-Waite (with Rachel Pollack's 78 Degrees as a reference), the Druid Tarot for variation on the Rider-Waite, and Joanna's Gaian Tarot, which inspires me to no end.

Adonis is leading a workshop on issues in sexuality for a group of student peer counselors at the university tonight. When he gets home, I hope we can go for burgers.

Feeling good these days, looks like

You scored as The Sun. You are The Sun. Happiness and joy - Confidence Everything looks bright - Success and optimism - Things turn out well - Enlightenment, seeing the real situation - Clarity and a flash of understanding. - A feeling of freedom and lightness, anything is possible. These cards are from The Victorian Romantic Tarot. It's based on original Victorian engravings, some of which are now rare. Which Victorian Romantic Tarot card are you? created with QuizFarm.com

My tarot decks

Two years ago, my friend John gave me my first tarot deck, the Zerner-Farber deck. I tucked the deck away in my altar, which is a small chest that holds my magical tools. Six months later, for no good reason, I took the deck from the altar and started to play with it. To my surprise, I had powerful readings right from the start. Since that time, I've commenced a leisurely and haphazard study of the tarot. I bought myself a Universal Waite deck, a good teaching deck. Then I advance-ordered a special set of the majors from Joanna Powell Colbert's gorgeous Gaian Tarot. My fourth and final deck was a gift from my sister, who brought it back from her honeymoon in Italy.

I find that I don't use the Waite deck very often. I've developed a special bond with my Z-F deck, and I continue to use it for most of my readings. I adore the Gaian tarot; I think most of the art, the symbols, and the interpretations are first-rate. (For example, the Hierophant has become the Teacher, a wizened man learning from Coyote and the green allies: garlic, dandelion, nettle, yarrow, comfrey, and Western Red Cedar.) Mostly, I read for myself, and Adonis uses the cards, too. Occasionally I'll read for a friend, but I'm really a beginner.

I've also started collecting a tarot library; I find that library book sales and used book stores are good places to find older books. Tonight at St. Marks bookstore - they have an occult section; who knew? - I picked up a new book, The Tarot: History, Symbolism, and Divination by Robert M. Place. It looks like a good, scholarly text on the tarot, and I look forward to delving further.

I'm pretty picky about the art and symbolism of my decks. I've had my eye on this deck for a while, because I've spent a fair bit of time in Prague and feel a strong spiritual and ancestral connection to that city. The Hermit haunts the street where Kafka lived. I also think the new Druid Craft Tarot is very handsome, and I look forward to getting a deck.

My favorite on-line interpretive site is the trinity doughnuts tarot - edgy, novel, and spot-on. I also rely heavily on Joan Bunning's site, where she offers an excellent free course in learning the tarot.