Communications

Been picking up the cards again.  Like riding a bike?  I never forget how, but sometimes it's like pedaling uphill with a bad case of diarrhea, sometimes it's like downhill racing.  I feel like that uphill thing, now.  like, there's something really worthwhile on top of the hill, so I'm torturing myself by doing a bunch of bullshit off base readings, till the stuff starts hitting true again.  Warming up the gears, or something.

Last night, a friend started a conversation with me that started normally enough, and evolved into a philosophical theological discussion of the utmost rarity. In fact, Luiz is about the only person I've discussed this sort of innermost belief.  And, we're chatting about it like two people discuss fucking barbecue recipes.  It's really cool, and I hope a) my babbling doesn't drive the conversation into the ground, b) my normally deeply closeted philosophies sound alright, in text, because like a person that never speaks, I feel like my voice on this matter is cracked and hoarse.  I hope I make sense, at least a little.  From childhood, I've always been the most solitary of solitary practitioners, and only recently took on a "title".  I've never talked about it with anyone before Luiz.  I've always *known* my own shit, but to try to communicate that in a semi reasonable eloquent way is a complete challenge.  I try writing about it, but it's like writing about the color of your own hair or the shape of your fingernails. It's such an inherent and fully explored section of myself, it would bore me to try to capture it in words.  Or, sound redundant in my head.  But then, a conversation springs up, and I'm a stammering retard.

Laid Them Aside

I haven't meaningfully read the cards in about a month.  I have two friends who are waiting for an online reading from me, and it never leaves my mind, but every time I have a bit of time, I can't seem to do it.  I haven't been reading for myself either.

When I read for other people, especially when I have the luxury of doing an online reading, I like to create a space, meditate, and really focus, as though I were doing a paid one on one reading.  Even if it's not a paid reading, it's important to me to do it with a professional air.

I have an hour, right now, between work and when the house fills with people, and before I could even consider my cards, I have to clean the kitchen (physically clean space is as important as psychically clean space), select my deck, gather my stuff, meditate myself into the headspace, and by the time I got prepared...the hour would be up, and...bah.

There's too much earthly static, lately, with the holidays, and my increased work schedule.  I've not been sleeping at night, and have been dragging through the day. The paid tarot reading jobs haven't been coming as frequently lately, either, so no real reason to constantly do it.

Now that I got this all off my chest, maybe I can start working towards fixing all the problems, eh?

Halloween, Whatever

So, no Halloween ritual, this year.  We were in Connecticut.  More accurately, we were driving home from Ct. During my normal time. We got home shortly before midnight, and for a hot minute, I was thinking "there's still time!"  Then reality hit, and I realized...totally exhausted, totally unprepared.  I was feeling dejected. Last Halloween wasn't so hot either. I had a nervous breakdown, last year, in fact, and wound up crying at the foot of my bed, curled into a ball. Luiz put it into perspective, when he said that I didn't need that special Halloween ritual, that the time was well spent working on family time. The trip to Ct. was excellent for Irv and Alden to bond, and spend some honest to god unforced quality time together.  That's as important as any ritual, and I'm glad I focused my energies there, this year.  I'm forever encouraging Luiz not to get hung up on particulars, and be flexible enough to learn many things, and be able to "drink from many cups" so to speak.  Like, a bowl of water, can be as powerful as any Enochian Vision Table or whatever.  I need to listen to my own preaching sometimes, and remember that any old fucking Tuesday night can be just as powerful as Halloween.  It's inspired me to prepare, and plan for just such a night.


Speaking of Tuesday nights. The Shoesday thing has taken off, for me.  Two weeks ago, I did one on the Cornucopia Princess, a dinner cruise, and made the most money I've ever made, and I've got one coming up this Tuesday at Piero's, a fancy restaurant.  The Thursday nights at Aders has dropped off.  Honestly, it wasn't worth my time.  I haven't been reading for myself much, lately, but I mean to remedy that soon.  Tonight, being a Saturday, might be out, because I know Irv is dying to go to the bar and hang out, but I'm thinking tomorrow night might be a good time to clear the table, clear my mind, and really get into the cards.  My energy supplies have been drained to empty, by mundane things, lately.  So much so that I crash, shaking into bed every night, I'm emotional and frazzled.  It's been getting better the past few days, so it's time to start getting the gears working again.

Shoesday Part Two

I've been lax again, but with reason.  My keyboard was broken for awhile, and it was a frustrating mess to type without half the keys.

Anyhoo, I'm back now, and with a regular tarot gig.

Thoughts:

Shoesday came up rather suddenly, as in I found out about it last week.  The event was last night, and I read for "free" again. Three card readings this time. I learned my lesson about spreading myself too thin, for sure.  Honestly, I dreaded it.  Last time left more of an impact on me, than I really thought.  So, I dragged through my day, threw some clothes on (forget a dress and heels, I was ready to peel off all my clothes last time, halfway through the night), and headed over.

It started a little later, this time, and had about half the attendees.  I made super sure I had a good table, as opposed to the tiny little side table I worked from last time.  Good seating, and a good crowd.  It was all together a classier affair, there was a long wine/food tasting, and no vendors competing for floor space.  The women were all bubbly and in a good mood (without being all insane, like last time) and since it was quieter, I was able to communicate better.  I did have to shout at times, and my voice was sort of shot by the end of the night, but again, way better than last time.  I'd say I read for about 20 people, including DJ Pete.  I made a lot more money this time, for a few reasons.  I had a tip jar out, for starters, and I was able to say at the beginning of each reading "Three cards are free, but for $5, I'll do a six card reading..." and so on.  I was able to concentrate and connect to each person, and really every single reading was a total home run.  I got chills, gave chills, was moved almost to tears, moved at least two women to tears, consoled, encouraged, and empowered and that's *really* why I do it, to empower.  One thing came as a surprise, quite a few people opted for the $10 Celtic cross readings.  I know $10 is cheap for a ten card full spread, but I went through them fast, and people were really satisfied, which earned tips.  One thing that helped, I'm sure, is staying hydrated.  I made a strong tea of mugwort, mint, and wormwood (bitter! but worth it), and sipped it from my thermos mug throughout the night.  I never flagged. By the end of the night last time, my well was empty, and I was sort of grasping at straws.  This time, it all flowed through to the end.

Today, I'm in my pajamas all day, and relaxing. I don't think I grounded poperly after coming home from all that. I was thoroughly energized all night, and came home glowing and buzzing.  Then, shortly after I got home, and ate something...I passed out. Like someone unplugged me.  I woke up this morning crazy, confused, disorganized, groggy.  Something to keep in mind, next time.

Next time being tomorrow.  My regular gig is now twice a month at Ader's on Thursday nights.  If last night is any indication, I'm gaining quite a following.  Some weeks it's good, some it's a struggle to sit there and look busy all night.  Like, last week, I earned 15 bucks.  A few weeks ago, I earned a lot more.  What I really hope for, is face to face appointments, from all this.

It's been a slow, steady rolling start, but I can say I'm really earning money from this tarot gig, now.  It's becoming a source of not only joy, but income, now.

Lammas!

It's decided.  For years, I've followed the Sabbats quietly, to myself.  Planning barbecues around various harvest days, dedicating a particular glass of wine, or act of love to the proper deity on the proper day.  Picking flowers, and decorating my altar, in accordance to the seasons, but I've never vocally had full on celebrations.


That starts now.  Today, with the feast of Lammas!  Loud and proud. I realize, as I look around, that I have people to celebrate with me! Once upon a time, I was a solitary little witch, reading and studying late into the night, holding my rituals solo.  Now I have a willing partner, a fairly apathetic hanger on, and a boy dawning into manhood that was raised pagan.  Time to party!


Cheers.  As I drink this very delicious, very expensive beer, that I blessed and dedicated to the Gods of Plenty, I realize how truly blessed we are, and remind myself that living a life of constraint, quietude, and self denial is in direct opposite of my True Will.  Let love flow. Bring on the feast, the food, drink, and the fornication  The time for quietude is later. 

Maybe some commentary about sex

“There shall be no property in human flesh. The sex-instinct is one of the most deeply-seated expressions of the will; and it must not be restricted, either negatively by preventing its free function, or positively by insisting on its false function. What is more brutal than to stunt natural growth or to deform it? What is more absurd than to seek to interpret this holy instinct as a gross animal act, to separate it from the spiritual enthusiasm without which it is so stupid as not even to be satisfactory to the persons concerned?

The sexual act is a sacrament of Will. To profane it is the great offence. All true expression of it is lawful; all suppression or distortion is contrary to the Law of Liberty. To use legal or financial constraint to compel either abstention or submission, is entirely horrible, unnatural and absurd.”

-Commentary to The Book of the Law I:41

I have been thinking about this a lot lately.  Even between two people who feel like they're on the path to enlightenment, together in almost every nuance of spirituality, there's still issues to resolve. Hurt feelings, imbalances, defensiveness, control issues, insecurities... and we both hold the same philosophy, as reflected in the above quote. We both work through it every day, and speak actively against sexual constraint.  We also both have our own sets of issues to work through.  Even in paradise, there's still piles of shit to step in, once in awhile.  

I'd sort of conjured a whole post about this, but it's late, and it sort of vaporized.  Maybe that's a good sign.

Let's get this show on the road.

I am a bad tarot reader.  I promised a friend that I would do an online reading for her, as a favor, because she needs guidance.  She got me late Saturday evening, and naturally the way my weekends go, here it is Monday night, and I still haven't gotten to it.  Mehhhhh.  It's like five questions, and I'm an asshole for not doing it first thing this morning, which really was my first chance.  I hate making promises, then being all silly about fulfilling them.  I should go do.  Maybe I'll trot out the Sacred Rose, I love that deck, it's always refreshing, and haven't looked at it in awhile.

I've been trying to reason through why I've laid tarot aside, for a bit. I burned myself out with Shoesday, for starters, I didn't think so at the time, but it was a lot. A lot of lots of reading.  I've had a string of iffy or maybe even totally wrong readings, and I was starting to second guess myself. That's a big one.  I've been resorting to old standby comfort decks, and they seem to say the same thing, over and over, and I could hear it in my own readings, that I was feeling cliched.  Sometimes, when that happens, the best thing is to just take a break. Feels a little like getting a bit tired of a loved one. "I love you, but leave me alone for awhile, I'd like to be at peace with my thoughts, and not hear your opinion about everything."  I have to concientously put aside the easy old favorites, like Robin Wood and Druidcraft, they're just too...easy, and I need challenging fresh stuff to work with.  Deviant Moon has been in my purse still (since I got it) and for fast one card casual stuff, which I still do occasionally, it's been a blessing.  It's time to shake things up, and make DM my "comfort" deck.

In other news, my super awesome custom made elk hide-cougar fang-lots of fringe and beadwork bag finally got shipped, and it's die to be here soon. Only been waiting it for a year and a month. The woman doing it is an artist, she's wonderfully sweet, and in ill health, so I permitted her to move me to the bottom of a long list of people waiting on custom stuff.  Mine was the last custom piece she made (and probably will ever) and she said she took an especially long time doing it, because she wanted to make it special.  She wove magic into it, said she imbued it with all the good faith and good fortune she could muster, and she's including some other goodies.  It took awhile to get all the materials, and I paid a fortune for just the materials alone (she submitted an itemized invoice of what it all cost her, then tacked on a mere $50 for her labor...).  I cannot wait.  I'll be reading on Thursdays at Aders, and I would love to have this bag proudly displayed, and containing my livelihood.  It's already approaching totemic importance for me, and it's not even here.

Time to get my ass in gear, I suppose.

This feather

I haven't been posting here much.  I seem to be taking an unscheduled unofficial break from the cards, though that might change today.

As I was walking into work this morning, I noticed a feather.  It's a perfect long black feather, with a white stem-thing.  Perfect condition.  The fact that I even noticed it was something, because I'm very groggy this morning, sort of bouncing back from a severe allergy attack and a benadryl hangover.  So, I noticed it, but didn't pick it up.  Where would I have put it, while I was on the panel?  The feather was there still, when I got out, as though it were waiting for me.  Dozens of people have walked by this glossy beautiful thing, laying right in the sidewalk, and it hasn't moved an inch, or gotten damaged.  At first, I went "hmmph, cool" and walked on by.  Then, I realized...that's a FEATHER and it's there for ME.  I almost walked by this gift of air.  I could feel the latent magic in it, as soon as I picked it up.  There was a slight breeze, and the feather was catching the current, jumping and twitching and wanting to leap out of my grasp, I could feel the light energy of a bird in flight coursing up my arm.  All of a sudden the world got fresher, brighter, and more...I don't know, airy.  I noticed the crystal blue sky, with nothing but one silvery plane low-ish overhead glittering in the sun.  I noticed the sun, warming but not hot.  I noticed the breeze, which was a mild breath, at first, but now an honest-to-god wooshy breeze swirling through my feather.  My gift. I contemplated it, and why I found it for the short trip home.  At home, walking through my yard, I noticed birds chirping riotously, and the alternating tinkle and low bonngging of the windchimes in the yard.  It's like, after that storm yesterday, the heat broke, and the world came back to life.  There's so much energy in this feather. I placed it on my altar shelf, it's here for a reason, and not just to help me appreciate a fine Monday morning.

Shoesday Tuesday

It was a girls-night-out sort of party, where I was the resident tarot reader. I didn't pay for table space, which was good, but the event planner offered a free three minute reading as part of the ticket. I wound up doing more readings in one night than I've ever done. My previous record was 15 separate readings for 12 people, at a house party. This was somewhere around 35 people over 4 hours, from 7 to 11ish. I had a few between 7 and 8 p.m. even, before the party, but as the crowd warmed up and got rolling was a concentrated hot-seat from 9 till 11. It was all non-stop, no breaks.


First, the good things:

Networking: Even before the party started, I handed my card out to two different event planners, the whole bar staff, discussed even further with the owner of the bar, about a regular psychic night. One of them was sort of a mystical themed event planner. Made some tentative plans for a Halloween party. I feel like it was a "on the fly" job interview, and I feel like I aced it. No one flinched when I named my hourly rate. I exchanged a reading for a massage with the massage therapist, and she took a stack of cards. Many of her clients also see tarot readers. I did likewise. I think we actually became friends, which is a nice side thing. For the actual sitters, I handed out at least a hundred cards. Everyone took at least one, sometimes taking a handful. I made a few appointments for house calls, last night. 

Readings: Lots of first timers! Definitely feel like I reached out to a good cross section of women, in many different life situations. Connected well with more than half, had stellar crystal clear overwhelmingly awesome readings for about 10 (one of them, regarding pregnancy, miscarriage, and future children was almost tearful for both of us), and got a few blank stares, and skeptics, and the easily distracted. A handful of drunks, but not as many as I expected.

Popularity: I half joked with my friend that I'd bring a book to the party, in case no one popped by my table. Some early birds were bugging me at 7 p.m hour before the actual event, before I even settled into my table, and my list was full, till the end of the night. I was the last one to take my table down. I had some friends at the party, and they said the buzz about the tarot reader was overwhelmingly positive. Yay! I think there will be more people lurking around the bar, looking for me. Many asked if I had a regular night, and no, not yet. Many of my sitters told their friends, that weren't at the party (at the downstairs bar, where regular bar patrons/non ticket holders were hanging out) As I was walking out, I was hailed by bar patrons for more readings, although I had to turn them down, because I was ready to collapse. 


Negative aspects, stuff I didn't see coming (but should have) stuff I'll watch for next time.

Readings: Many people sat down with blank expressions, and it took me a few minutes to get warmed up with them, shuffling and engaging them in conversation. I had to, by the end of the night (more on why, in a bit) sort of hustle people along, and say "the more specific you can get with me, the better I can help you in 3 minutes time". Many people caught on right away, and I had very satisfying and concise readings, and I sent these people away satisfied. Others sat down with a shrug. I'd pull some cards, and outline things about their lives, and they'd say "but I already knew all that". Well, great, but I didn't. Towards the end of the night, I felt like they were wasting my time, as well as their own, and just taking the service because it was free. It was difficult to limit it to 3 minutes, and often I went over. With at least 3 girls, we talked for over 10, because things were really rolling. I got appointments out of these.

Free: Which brings me to the free thing. People who make appointments and seek me out want a tarot reading. Drunks at a party stumble into my chair because it's there, and yet still expect miracles in 3 minutes. Everyone at the party signed up, including other vendors, the kitchen staff, etc. I got to everyone, but there were some catty girls, and women annoyed at the aspect of waiting. Seriously, a fight broke out between a pair of women (and their little respective groups) at who was first on the list. I solved it, satisfactorily enough, I suppose. But totally unexpected.

Money: I got some tips, and I sold some extra readings, on top of the freebies. Not quite enough to compensate the 4 hours I was there, but it was alright. I was surprised at how much people wanted for nothing, and how reticent some were at paying $5 for five extra cards, and some extra time, especially since the freebie reading only really just got us started. (meanwhile they're spending $6 a pop for ginger vodkatinis). About a dozen of the earlier readings asked if they could come back for more, after the list dwindled down. I feel like the limited time, huge crowd, cut into my profits, because I was so busy cranking out the freebies, that I couldn't get to some that wanted to pay for more, "later".

The setting in general: Early on, the environment was great, moving around, lots of chatty bubbly energy. Around halfway through, DJ Pete turned the lights down, popped on the special effect lights, and my corner became jet black and extremely loud. Candles were found, so I could continue wading though my ever growing list. By the end of the night, as the party was winding up and up (kudos to the DJ, by the way, the man could really get a crowd pumping) I was reading in a very loud club environment. The poor last few, I had to shout to. My voice still hasn't really recovered.



It was overall a satisfying evening, and I feel like I met, networked, and connected with a lot of people. There were some definite drawbacks, some things that you guys warned me of, and some things I never would have realized till I experienced them myself.

Shuffles

Writing what I wrote, last night really helped me settle my energy.  Sometimes, writing, and that was a lot of what Luiz and I were exploring, is the best thing.  Best for documenting, meditating, grounding, composing, therapy, catharsis.  I feel like, without it, I would have been sick and sad for the rest of the night.

Moving on.

I can't find my three favorite stones. They were in a bag, with my travel tarot stuff.  Can't find the bag.  I refuse to accept that they're done with me, however, I just have to look harder.

Ever have a shopping list running in your head...running and running, till you to to the place where you need to buy the stuff, then...foof, all gone.  Yeah, I'm going through it right now.  I've been putting off an order to Mountainrose for a few months, planning to refresh my herbs in one fell swoop.  Damned if I can't remember what-all I needed, besides more sage.

Played with the Tarot of Sweet Twilight a little this morning, doing some readings for the girls at work.  Sometimes the whimsical decks really surprise me.  Lighthearted, and telling.

That didn't end well...

Well, Irv's quite cheery, now.  I'm not, but somehow he feels great.   I'm not even sure which blog to put this in.  I'll throw it in here, as a caveat, one of my many hurdles.

Luiz and I were having a significant reading, and some deep spiritual talk, the likes of which we haven't seen in months.  Long time flipping cards, and soul searching, some on my part, mostly on his.   This is how we work through his very real clinical depression.  This helps me get my own moral compass and bearings in check.  It's a necessary part of our existence.  It's been forever since we could sit down like this.  Irv was working next door, doing all sorts of stuff with the house, then he came in, and blasted out a load of laundry, then disrupted the table where we were reading, slamming open the dishwasher, and slamming the dishes in the cabinet.  Crash, back down to earth, with unasked for tears in my eyes.  What? What the hell is his problem?  His problem was that WE didn't do those two things.  I didn't know they *needed* doing right that very moment.  As soon as I cleared my cards, and we scattered from the table, as soon as Luiz, in a flurry of apologies, cleaned some menial something, he was fine. Cheery.  Hah.  Jovial.  His mood went from storming fucking angry, to maniacally happy.

I'm still shaking, and trying to hold back the tears.  I'm really shaken.  I feel like we were really accomplishing something.  Luiz was having some great epiphanies, I was really remembering what *it* is all about.  We were deep, deep in the Universe, deep in the cards, and in a very specific mental state, only to be blasted out of it by a wave of manically bad energy, and a delightful disruption/guilt trip.  Like a bowling ball, to pins, only if the bowling ball could get some kind of perverse satisfaction out of smashing the pins.

Why does he do it?  Did he feel discluded?  Is he just feeling mean?  All my empathic receptors were wide open, and all I could feel was that wave of "Oh, fuck them, fuck this, watch this..." sort of glee.

It's any wonder I get anything done.  I have to go smooth out my energy somehow, or else I will be irrational, and fighting back tears for the rest of the night.  I feel like I just took a direct hit of total crap right to my solar plexus.

I feel like I can trust the environment I've created, the "circle" we build when we go through all the steps for a night of readings like this. The cards, the herbs, the mental preparation.  Then something like this comes and smashes it wide open.  We let our guards down, we got distracted and started moving around.  Left the circle, without closing it, so to speak.  No, I didn't actually cast one, and I didn't think I had to.  Now I see that sometimes, I can't just leave it out like that.  Stupid me.  Ego? Maybe.  My kitchen, my table, my space...not so much.  Lesson learned.

The Business of Tarot

Spent a greater part of the late afternoon designing my "menu".  I plan on having a copy of each page printed and laminated for my kit, then a few dozen printouts of all the information, as a handout.  I also have to do a brief writeup of tarot or "about me" section, something like that, to put as the last page in my kit.  This "kit" is a binder that will hold a total of about 4 laminated pages.

I got my oracle decks today, and felt compelled to read with them right out of the box.  Love them.  My intuition was zinging and singing.  I'm going to work more with them, then maybe work them into paid readings.

I sat down the other night and outlined what I Want.  It's my longterm goal to make enough money being a transient tarot reader, to eventually afford to have a little place of my own.  Gain a big enough following to sustain opening an actual shop.  I've never really "networked" in my life, and it's not the most instinctive thing for me, but I'm actually doing it, passing out business cards left and right.

They are not a scientific calculator.

Been thinking about cerebral versus intuitional tarot reading. Lately, I've been getting way too thinky, and really analyzing every aspect of every card, turning each one into this mental labyrinth that's easy to get lost in. That's fine when studying, or really picking apart every aspect of the Thoth deck, but when reading, when doing what I do best, the logic and thinking have to have to take a back seat to intuition. My gut response, my initial "this is it" has been taking a backseat to elaborate pondering, and critical thinking, this pointed turning each card over and over in my mind, using it as a tool.  Cold logic.  Good for most things, hindering my reading style.

So, on impulse, today I went and looked at oracle decks. These are decks that hold any number of cards, and they can be about whatever the hell they want.  No stringent tarot guidelines.  Just a bunch of images designed to provoke intuition.  I ordered a few, with a few more on my wish list, and I'm going to try working them into my typical card flipping, and just let my mind fly again, instead of bogging it down with associations, dignities, numerology, astrology, alchemy, geometry, and all that.

I have to start meditating again.  I had this problem a few years ago, when I was studying cards too hard, and not connecting with them.  They became something like a chore, and as a result, hard to read.  I can't afford that, now.  I really have to make some changes, or find my groove again.

Rambling...

I've been doing a lot of theological and philosophical study, in spite of outward appearances.  I mean, I was in Duquette's online Thoth course, and I sort of petered out of my study there.  It got to be too much, to much knowledge, too much mental masturbation from the other students, and just too much in general.  I plan on saving the material and looking back in bits and pieces, at my own pace.

At times, I think that makes me a bad...whatever I am. Magi? Witch?  Soror?  At times, I feel bad for not dedicating myself wholesale to a dogma.  I read extensively on some philosophy, religion, labeled set of rules, historic secret society, and file it away.  I think about that knowledge, late at night before I fall asleep, when I'm in the shower, when I appear to be doing something menial like chopping vegetables, or picking weeds.  I think about it a lot.  I feel it.  I really try to find my place in this knowledge, these ideas, dogmas, names, charts, numbers, alphabets, connections.  I try to find places within my self for this stuff.

When learning a new system, I always have this period of feeling like "this is so close to my 'thing' that this must be it, and I have to try very very hard to learn it and use it"  It happened with Satanism, first, then Wiccanism, in my early teens, then...well, after that I was well adrift. I toyed with ceremonial magick in my late teens, but was in over my head. I drifted, always at first embracing, then really digging into, then not exactly abandoning, but sort of filing away whatever set of theological "rules" I've found.  I have, and this stands true to this very day, found only label that I can identify with, and that is Thelemite.  Not a member of the A.A. Not a member of the OTO, although I imagine affiliation with those groups would teach me immeasurable amounts of knowledge, but then...what good is a fuckload of knowledge, without the zing?  How much is too much?

It's not knowledge I seek. I get ahold of what I need to know, when I need to know it.  I definitely don't seek any sort of fraternity, because I hold that the minute I attach myself to a group, then my own path is compromised by the group's goals.  I wouldn't join any group that doesn't 100% coincide with my personal trip to enlightenment, and I haven't found one yet.  Even my soul mate, my magickal counterpart, my twin flame, and I disagree. A lot.

Last year, I really got deeply into ceremonial magick again, really delved deep into Crowley's teachings, reading greedily, studying, meditating.  Quabala, Goetia, a little Enocian stuff here and there.  I love it.  I mean it's really fucking fascinating, loads of useful stuff.  Only, I am not it.  It's not me.  Every book I read about Crowley's life devolves into I don't even know....  This title, that name, this group, that exclusive society, this high priest of hoodyhoo shit talking that high priest, this student doing that, that student doing her, he said, she said....the minutia of group politics, and drama.  I'm reading an *excellent* book right now paralleling Dion Fortune and Aleister Crowley's lives, and how they've together ushered in the current Aeon.  Awesome.  Till it drags in the middle chapters with loads of names, fabricated trumped up titles, shit talking, politics, stealing, pomposity...and I think to myself "these are the people that mold my spirituality?".  I file the good. Ignore the human claptrap and move on.   Sometimes, I really feel as though I should have stuck to reading only the Book of the Law, because I fully embrace it. It's a poetic framework for my own beliefs.  It's still the words of man, and I have separated the man from the Word.  Delving very deep (and I mean very) always leaves me a little disappointed. I feel like I've chased all the goodies down this path or that, and it eventually leads the same place, the same things I've known in my heart since childhood, only with different names.  Reassuring, but sometimes a waste of time.  Good to increase the knowledge, though.  It's sometimes hard to sort out.

The point is, all knowledge is a tool.  That's all it is, no more, no less.  The more knowledge I have, the wider range of tools I have to choose from. Knowledge is a powerful tool, a Sword, if you will.  I use the sword, master it, control it, and I am coming to terms with not eviscerating myself on it.

 As I get older, it's easier to separate the useful tools, the helpful ones, from the crap.  It's a lot easier, these days to sort out opinion and trumpery.  I'm beginning to not feel bad about not learning every scrappy little nuance about any system, and adopting it as my own.  I used to think I was a seeker, looking for just the right thing. Now I think throughout all the seeking, I've sort of invented, polished, and work ever towards perfecting the Right Thing (for me, anyway), and I always do it with love. Love for the divine, love for myself, love for the journey, love for the process.  No guilt.  I work daily to strip my own ego, to purify my path, and strengthen my empathy for the world and people.

My best knowledge still comes directly from the Universe.  I still have gained more watching the life and death cycles of living things in my proximity, the movement of the sun across the sky, and the spinning of stars, growing things, destructive forces.  Watching the crushing force of a thoughtless boot on a newly sprouted sprig of basil, the effects of neglect and abuse, the effects of love and compassion.  It's all magickal, and to notice and tap in is truly the Great Work, to become one with all of this.   Nothing, no words, symbols, artfice, bells, herbs, candles, books, no alphabet, nothing is more magical or powerful than the connection, it's divine Will that moves these things, and the divine Will within myself allows me to connect, to alter reality, learn the secrets of the universe, alter or enter the web that connects every living thing on every plane, move freely throughout space and time, find my fucking wallet, help people sort out their lives, sort out my own life. It's the divine connection, the pure shining empathy, unity and Love.  The tools only help.

I don't know where I was going with this, honestly.  I think I've just come to terms with not now, and not ever being a Grand High Whooptywhoop Authority High Priestess of Blah Blah Blah.  It really is a load of bullshit.

Suprise!

Got the gig! I'm doing a "girls night out" sort event at the bar, for cash.  Hopefully, this leads to a regular reading night over there, where I get paid.

I was so confident going into it, knowing my limits and prices, and feeling very confident, but now that it's official,  the door has been thrown open to a hundred doubts.  What should I wear, what if a hundred people all take the free sample, but none want to go on to a paid reading, what if they all want some deep paid reading, and I collapse from the effort, what if I'm sitting there all lonely all night, what if...what if.... Then, are my prices right? Are my business cards/demeanor/whatever professional enough?  I hope I'm not selling myself too short, or not selling myself enough, or too much....argh.

Ah well, it's just one night. I figure, worst I could do is distribute a ton of cards, and talk to a lot of people, and have fun. The best I can do is wow em, land a regular job, and maybe a steady batch of clients.

Moving into the big time.

I'm getting involved with a paying gig, at the bar across the street.  Bill the Best Bartender Ever wants me to come read a few times a month. The last card reader they had, Bill says, pulled in $200-300 a night.  I can do that.  Hell, I read cards there more than a few times a month, for falling down drunks, for love, noteriety, and free drinkies, till I, myself join the falling down drunks.  I'll come in dressed up, with the little cloth, and trappings, and my dirty and beat down decks.  I'll smile, and refrain from swearing, and drink nothing but water and occasionally coffee, and I stand to make a chunk of change.  Lucky break! Lucky me.  I can do it, for sure.  I get all these second guesses, like, "what if I'm not good enough?"  But, then I know, I am.  Cynics will come play "Stump the Psychic" and I'll find their mother issues.  Drunks will come to me depressed, and leave reassured.  It's not about the money, it's about the act of touching other people's lives in some small way, in an unlikely setting.  I want to share my gift.

Who am I

In entering this class, and really following magickal practitioners around the web, I'm beginning to think of my place in all this, and my own path.  I see people that have been studying and practicing for half the time that I have, and see that they have published books and active blogs filled with information and guidelines.  Good stuff, too!  I have to think...why not me?  Where am I in relation?  I never think of stuff like this.

I've been into the occult since I was 11 years old. Early bloomer, right?  When I was that age, I was visiting a friend of the family. Apparently, while she and my mom were gossiping over coffee, I looked bored, because she handed me a stack of books, and said "I think you're old enough now, to handle some of this. See where it takes you."  The top book on that pile was Modern Witches Spellbook by Sarah Lyddon Morrison, and the next one down was Buckland's complete.  I snatched up Morrison's book, and sorta grazed through Bucky's.  From that day forward, I was a total practicing witch.  At 11, I was combing my mother's garden for usable plants, sticking pins in candles, burying mysterious parcels under trees, throwing stuff into moving water.  You name it, I was doing spells for it.  Not Wiccan, that shit never sat right with me, although I will say some of the better Wiccan authors have taught me plenty about spellwork, but I could never grasp the whole earth-based religion thing.  Throughout my teens, I voraciously devoured everything EVERYTHING occult I could get my hands on.  I stayed hours at the library reading mythology and researching ancient gods.  I was probably the only fifteen year old to have read Joseph Campbell and Anton LaVey.  I experimented with Satanism, atheism, shamanism, and all manner of pagan practices, never embracing one path, never settling into a "religion" of sorts. But always studying the tools of these faiths, the alphabets, herb lore, color indices, astrology, and above all runeworking and Tarot.  I've shamelessly and seamlessly included all pantheons and philosophies into my workings, always doing spells, both high and low.  I mean, I didn't know shit, but I was always doing something, anything with the little bit of shit that I did know.  Sometimes, it even worked!  (Lots of abject failures, too)

I got into ceremonial magick at around age 17.  An influential person in my life got me into Crowley, Enochian magic, Goetia, and all the really heavy stuff. Only, he did it for all the wrong reasons, and I went along with it all, unprepared.  It was an obsessed, dangerous relationship with a sick but powerful person, that culminated with him attempting to kill me.  I got out of that life, I put all magic aside, all tarot, ceremonial anything, shelved my books, turned away from Crowley, and just all of in general.  I focused on school, family, job, and went back to the magick I knew, loved, and practiced. Folk stuff, love spells, hate spells, runeworking. No demons in bags for me, no thank you.

Till my mid 20's that was satisfying enough.  Then I started picking the old books back up, digging for more, reading, learning.  I've read a lot of bogus crap, and a lot of genius writings, and I think only now in the past 6-7 years am I able to really look with a critical eye and sort it out.

My path has lead me back to the tarot, and I've picked the Thoth deck up again. Last year, I bought a book to really help me crack the Thoth code.  Understanding Aleister Crowley's Thoth Tarot by Lon Milo Duquette.  It threw open the floodgates, WIDE open, to all the old stuff.  Last summer, I bought more books in 3 months, than I've purchased in the past 10 years, and I am voraciously devouring each and every element.  I have dedicated myself to the path of Thelema, and the Great Work, and whoa.  Where I was once meandering through a forest, I'm now racing uphill at downhill speeds.  I GET it now. I have a purpose.  The good new is this:  All my past meanderings have only prepared me for what I'm doing now, this Great Work.  It's given me a tremendous knowledge of all things occult, all the connections, astrology, the tarot, stones, herb lore, god and goddess associations.  I mean, wrote down the concept of Tipareth before I even knew what it was.  What I'm going through right now is sort of a back-categorizing. Stuff I've known my whole life, the god within, the god without, as above so below, the eternal cycle of birth-life-death-reincarnation, that I've seen all around me, meditation, all this stuff...now has a name, and a place on the Tree of Life.  Now, it's all got a home, I have a title, and everything makes much more sense now.

I still balk at charts and alphabets and numbers.  I shun anything ceremonial and anything that seems artificial.  I hate memorizing countless long names. Names are things discovered and given by man.  It's a narrowing of the path. When I can feel and be and see and smell and taste and breathe in the element of fire, why must I name it anything but that?  Why give it some long Hebrew angel's name or something, when I can summon it through idea and visualization, and literally live in it  Names sometimes separate, and make things more confusing when I'm really working.  I've been successful and on my path for so long, I'm sort of used to the idea of working without the stuff, the tablets and wax seals.

To be continued, maybe...

The truths they already know

Lately, when doing readings, for both friends and strangers, I've been getting this a lot, "I sort of thought so, but you helped confirm it." or "I was afraid of that." or things along those lines.  Sometimes, tarot seems to make whatever nebulous idea, hope or fear, concrete, for someone.  The truth exists whether I read for it or not. People know more than they let themselves believe.  It's nice to go along with whatever feels pleasant or easy, or makes you happy, but the truth is there hanging around no matter what.  The hardest readings come when the truth reveals itself, and the sitter says "but I can't..."  Those are the worst.  It's difficult to watch friends and strangers box themselves in.

That happened with a reading the other day.  A man being strung along and manipulated in a glaring case of unrequited love.  Every card looking at it from her perspective, every single one was a sword.  Every card from his perspective was a major or a cup. It came out that she lied constantly from the moment they met, and that she only kept him around as a "maybe" because she knows what she can get from him (financially.).  Finally, after this exhausting roller coaster ride, I asked "How can S. help himself?"  There's the swords.  8 of Swords.  In relation to the question, and because the 8 of Swords came up for a question regarding the girl's feelings, before, I said simply. "Be like her.  Surround yourself with cold logic, protect your heart, gird yourself with rationality."

"But I can't," he says.  "she needs me."

The 8 of Swords? I should have told him the whole thing. It's him, imprisoning himself, he keeps going around and around in this dangerous, painful hamster wheel, because he, in some way...likes it. He takes comfort in being this brokenhearted heroic, romantic soul.

What can I say to that?  I don't get paid for commentary, I just get paid to pass along the message.  Hopefully it sticks. This time, I'm sure it didn't.