Friday, December 21, 2012

An Archangelical Carol

A fusty season's greetings and welcome to the first Mercuric Aludel entry participating in Blog Hop. Those following this Round Robin of tarot-related blogs were linked here via the contribution from TABI, and if you wish to continue the journaling journey, visit Louise Underhill's Priestess Tarot entry with the links at the end of these particular tarot musings.

Loathe though I am to admit to it, I must fall back on an old chestnut roasting on an open fire of a Christmas tradition as a touchstone for this Blog Hop theme of "Christmas Present", that of Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol". You all know the classic story -  the quintessential embittered and cynical personage of Ebenezer Scrooge is visited by a series of spirits on Christmas Eve in an effort to turn the tides of his own soured spirits and instruct him on the true meaning of the holiday. While Dickens toted it as a ghost story, a parallel exists between its spectral characters and the four archangels prominently depicted in tarot, lending some further gravity to this and many of the other traditions honored during the winter solstice.

As a prelude to his holiday haunting, Scrooge is first approached by the ruined ghost of Jacob Marley, condemned to "wear the chains forged in life" and walk among the living in "incessant torture of remorse." It's no far stretch to find his equal in the Devil card, in which the demon in question takes the form of archangel Uriel. Uriel is not to be equated with Lucifer, the fallen angel who became the ruler of Hell, but he is described as the "watcher over thunder and terror" and according to Revelations holds the keys to the Bottomless Pit, and is thus associated with the Devil. This is an important distinction, because like Marley, Uriel delivers warnings and offers opportunities for redemption, a chance to face trials of crisis and throw off the loose fitting chains that we often fetter our own selves with. As the "Light of God", Uriel offers us light to find our way through the darkness, so do many of the "festivals of lights" that accompany the holidays psychologically buffer us against the long cold nights of winter when the Sun is at its weakest.

As foretold by Marley, Scrooge is visited first by the spirit of Christmas Past, who attempts to reconnect Scrooge with his roots, coming for Scrooge's "welfare", if not his "reclamation". A pivotal aspect of Scrooge's trip down Memory Lane is re-witnessing himself parting ways with his would-be bride Belle, who feels she has been "displaced by a golden idol". No doubt we are seeing the Lovers card reversed here, a card that deals as much with crucial decisions as it does with love and partnership. Raphael, the healer, is the archangel who presides over the Lovers and endeavors to restore wholeness by recovering the lost parts. Besides bringing health and well-being, he is the guardian of the Tree of Life (the card's setting is indeed Eden, a place of innocence), the patron of lovers and youth, and promotes growth. As we decorate our homes with trees, holly and other everlasting greenery, we create our own personal Eden in which we are reminded of a returning to innocence in an environment surrounded by symbols of enduring life where we enjoy the company of others, usually reunited after a long absence.

The spirit of Christmas Present, the apparent centerpiece of this piece, is depicted as a Dionysian version of Santa Claus carrying a cornucopia-like torch, with which he graces his surroundings with warmth and cheer. While I would have been tempted to link this jovial figure to the Lovers card, his torch and ever-flowing emotive power (and some variations have him brandishing a cup of wine) bears resemblance to Temperance, who is the protective archangel Michael. The protection that Michael provides is one of power and strength tempered by love and compassion, the right combination of which produces a selfless state of generosity and reconciliation, a condition free of "Ignorance and Want". Here, the phrase 'Christmas Present' can be taken as both being in the moment and as a gift, for the practice of gift giving is a powerful expression and enabler of this spirit of reconciliation, in the spirit of the solstice holidays being a time of charity and goodwill.

While the third spirit is the one Scrooge fears most, the spirit of Christmas Yet To Come has more to show than just the future. It provides Scrooge with a calling. For this reason, the Grim Reaper guise has been placed upon Gabriel, the messenger archangel associated with the Judgment card. While resurrection is an obvious theme, it is a dramatic metaphor for a personal awakening to a sense of purpose, depicted by the corpses rising from the narrow coffins of their former definitions of life. Such is the wake-up call Scrooge receives upon being shown his own barren headstone and the "judgment on him" seen in the aftermath of his death, pledging to change the course of the future by an "altered life". With Gabriel blowing Revelry, revelry itself becomes key. In celebrating the close of another yearly chapter and the coming of fresh one, we indeed 'look forward' to the renewal of ourselves and the world around us with a sense of optimism and hope.

At the end of Dickens' tale, Scrooge is reformed, a new man fervently vowing to honor the spirit of Christmas and to "live in the past, present and future". Marley and the three spirits have accomplished their mission, and their four archangelical counterparts make a curtain call appearance in Kerubic form in the World card. While they also surround the Wheel of Fortune, which is certainly symbolic of continuous flow of time in which Scrooge aims to exist, the World offers more seasonal symbolism. The figure of the dancer, reborn through perseverance, compassion, integration and liberation, is set within a great wreath - another ubiquitous tradition of the holiday season. Their similarity to the oroburos, the serpent holding its tail in its mouth, is hardly coincidental, as wreaths are symbols of eternal life and continuous cycle. Every year the world is reborn, and invites us all to be reborn with it, an occasion marked by observances that stretch across time and culture.

A happy solstice, however you choose to celebrate. (No, I will not quote Tiny Tim.)

Go forward to the Blog of Christmas Future: Priestess Tarot
Skip back to the Blog of Christmas Past: TABI




Sunday, November 11, 2012

Unemployment Assurance

Having been recently laid off from a job that saw 20 years of my service, naturally I was kicked into a sea of introspection as well as to the curb, once the initial shock had worn off. Of course I did readings as to what directions to go from here (which will remain private), but my main tarot inquiry began a reflection on the cards that adequately symbolized the situation and the conditions that led to it. This brought me to a meditation on the Eights of the deck, both minor and major.

My former work environment had been becoming increasingly difficult  - little remaining prospects for raises or promotions with respect and recognition becoming even more scarce. The daily negative influences kept me in a tight knot of continual malcontent and frustration. The Eight of Swords is a classic symbol of this negative feedback loop, one that keeps the mind inhibited and caged, eventually convincing itself that this is the reality it must accept, yet this remains a self-imposed prison that is easily escapable. I had already been contemplating removing myself from that sorry situation, and act illustrated by the Eight of Cups. While the despair and depression are clear, so is the message: the jalopy has finally broken down for good and it's time to leave it behind. While the departure was not willful or at a time of my choosing, it kick-started a long delayed change of direction that admonishes to seek greener pastures.

The other side of the equation is neatly filled in by the remaining Eights. The Eight of Wands is the necessary enthusiasm and rapidness of action that must be called upon to conceptualize what can be brought in to fill the gap. While practical matters are up in the air, so are the creative possibilities beyond the obvious. Along with the new ideas must certainly come the footwork to make them real, expressed by the labor depicted in the Eight of Pentacles. This is not strictly the menial tasks that make up the journey of a thousand steps, but also constructing the map of that journey, taking stock of your own skills and resources and cultivating necessary patience.

Depending on what deck you happen to be looking at, a Major Arcana eight could either be Strength or Justice. The numerical switching is a subject for another blog, but both cards are appropriate archetypes of encouragement and resolve in the face of unemployment. One of the original titles for Strength was, more appropriately, "Fortitude" - strength maintained over time in response to an ongoing challenge. It finds a synonym in "courage", denoting a condition of conviction that tames the fear that would overwhelm one's common sense and better judgement. That better judgement is put into action with Justice, which engages the mind as a disciplined and objective process of making decisions, distanced from emotion. Rather than 'just deserts' or 'what's fair', Justice is about analysis, adjustment and doing what is necessary.

Strength has taken a greater importance in this rumination in light of earlier thoughts about this sudden life change. Qabalistically speaking, Strength is a path that connects the opposing spheres of Chesed and Gevurah, receptively "Mercy" and "Severity". In an allegory of metabolism, Chesed is the anabolic process of storing and building up ingested energy while Gevurah describes the catabolic breaking down and burning of that energy. Between the two, a living and self-regulating system is produced, and in the traditional image of the woman taming the lion, it reflects a human dynamic of higher and nobler faculties harnessing and controlling the base instincts. In the instance of suddenly loosing one's job (or in any challenging situation), it becomes a call to both order and action.

It was little coincidence that I ended grouping the small Eights in respective pairs, either totaling to 16. Strength itself is echoed on a lower level by Key 16, the Tower, which also forms an equalizing path between the polarities of Mercy and Severity and usually indicates an abrupt upheaval in one's experience. Never a popular card, it has an often overlooked aspect of this is the opportunity that comes with the shattering of a outmoded form of security. Here the equalization comes more from external influences beyond our control, forcing us to reckon with patterns of living that do more to restrict us than help us evolve. This is the condemned property being razed to clear the way for something more appropriate and profitable to take its place.

Then there comes the obvious: I am writing this as an aspiring professional Tarot consultant. I wonder what it all could possibly mean...

Friday, October 5, 2012

A Supernal Evensong

As I sat down to engage in a Qabalistic pathworking tarot spread (courtesy of Joy Vernon), designed to affect an awareness of the sephiroth Chokmah and its conjoined relationship to Binah on the Tree of Life, I desired an ambient soundtrack to keep my mind open and engaged. Not halfway through the spread, I indeed had a revelation about the subject I was exploring. Not from the cards, but from the music.

The music in question was that of two of my favorite musicians, Robert Fripp and Brian Eno, in a short-lived but extremely influential collaboration. Much of their work centered around an analog tape delay system, in which a recorded sound would be continuously fed back into the recording device at regular intervals. The effect is like an echo, but here the echo occurs several seconds apart and is able to sustain itself for greater lengths of time. The result is a perpetual building and decaying of layers of improvised notes and textures, continuously unfolding and evolving over time. Fripp, the virtuoso guitarist, provides most if not all of the active performance, while Eno plays the role of producer, manipulating the mechanism that sustains and structures the performance.

In effect, Fripp is acting as the Chokmah to Eno's Binah. Chokmah is described as "the Will to Force", in which the aim is to project an intention outwardly; Binah is the "Will to Form", which seeks to contain and mold the energy it receives. Within the music, there is Fripp's intentional expression captured, modified and reflected back by Eno's apparatus, which in turn inspires Fripp to actively respond in kind. The process is a dialog between two very different modes of operation; one active and dynamic, the other passive and absorbing. This reciprocal dualism has its parallel in the Taoist principals of the yang and yin, which by themselves don't accomplish much of value but create a vibrant living quality when acting in consort.

If I had to pick a tarot card to represent the two musicians, Eno would be the Magician and Fripp would be the Hierophant. In terms of character, Fripp has usually been seen as the grand philosopher, taking an almost spiritual attitude toward the act of making music (even to the point of spouting aphorisms and axioms) while remaining devoted to disciplined technique. One the flip side, Eno's intellect stems from a more amorphous source, often employing calculated uses of chance elements and using his skills to manipulate elements provided by others. It's absolutely no surprise that the corresponding paths on the Tree of Life connect respectively with Chokmah and Binah. True to fashion, with Binah being the "Supernal Mother", it's amusing to note that Eno began his musical career as a glam rocker; more esoterically, the name of Fripp's seminal band, King Crimson, is allegedly a synonym for Beelzebub, an anglicized corruption of "B’il Sabab", Arabic for "the man with aim". (It should be noted, though, that Beelzebub happens to be the archdevil associated with Chokmah).

Together, their interaction produces a sense of timeless power, both hypnotic and awe-inspiring. As Chokmah and Binah are both dualistic expressions of Kether, the "first swirlings" in which the unified source resides, the music of Fripp and Eno provides a spiraling sonic expression of what Kether is, and in fact provides a clue as to the abstract mechanics of the Supernal Triad as it is enacted through the pair. We get a sense of time as an infinitude of possibility, and yet experience it in real time as a generated artifact (this could be viewed as a natural trickle-down into Chesed, the first perceivable idea of form). The traditional goal of trance music is to bring the listener into a state of divine rapture, in direct contact with the source of life, with Kether. Here, it just happens to take the form of modernist conceptualism. More power to us.

Listen to Fripp & Eno's "The Heavenly Music Corporation"

Monday, September 24, 2012

Prediction, Free Will and Muad'dib

During a recent public reading event, I was rebuked by a hoodied something-teen with the proclamation, "I think it would really boring to know my future." While I can't completely share his sentiment, I can agree with him on principal. In fact, when I attempted to look into the future, I saw the face of Muad'dib staring back at me.

Anyone familiar with Frank Herbert's "Dune" series knows the name. The central character, Paul Atreides, through the agency of the hallucinogenic spice Melange, becomes Muad'dib, the Kwisatz Haderach ("Shortening of the Way"), who can see past, present and future simultaneously. Ultimately, he comes to understand that to know the future is to become trapped by it, funneled into an ever-narrowing door of possibility. While his father Leto had admonished "Knowing that a trap exists is the first step in avoiding it," Muad'dib's son Leto II declares, "I assure you that the ability to view our futures can become a bore." The young naysayer who refused the reading had a bit of mythological backup.

Yet, on the other side of the equation (and there is always another side), the Uncertainty Principal in quantum physics states that the very act of observation affects a change in the observed. When we have a conscious awareness of what lies ahead, alternatives are immediately created. You see the precipice approaching, and in an effort to avoid plummeting over the edge you realize the benefits of turning left or right or even back. The future suddenly branches off into several possibilities, each with their own separate destinations. Once this happens, the future is nearly impossible to predict - to use the words of another omnipotent science fiction character, "Always in motion, the future is."

Faced with these questions about questions and free will versus determinism, I recall a moment where, in a fit of despair, I came to the realization that I was where I was as a result of the choices I had made up to that point. My present is the result of what actions I took in the past, and as such, my future is determined by the actions I undertake in the present. As such, a reading about one's future is not so much about foretelling as it is about projecting which way your present course could take you, and what options you have for altering the vector. Futures are created, not predicted.

The rejoinder I gave to the adolescent striving to forge his own reality was "This isn't about knowing your future, it's about empowering you in the present." And the caveat I would deliver to those desiring that prescience would once again come from the timeless pages of "Dune": "The eye that looks ahead to the safe course is closed forever."