Thursday, December 19, 2013

Journey to the Center of the Opening of the Key

While I appreciate elegant simplicity, I can also sink my teeth into an intriguing web of complexity. Complexity here should not be equated with ‘complicated’. When something is complicated, it confronts us with a mass of disparate information without any evident patterns, while a complex subject’s diversity exists in a state of orderly interconnection, especially one that possesses an active behavior of probability that wouldn’t settle into a state of inertia. While I see tarot as such a system, something nearly always brings me a sense of disappointment when the cards are placed in a static spread configuration with set positional meanings. It’s a bit like looking like a dead butterfly pinned to a flat board when you could be watching it flitting about in its habitat, alive and vital. For me, the Opening of the Key is that live butterfly, one you can observe through its entire life cycle.

For those unfamiliar with the Opening of the Key, it is a leviathan of a tarot divination method developed by the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn, a society of ceremonial magic that featured a membership of influential heavyweights such as Arthur Edward Waite, S.L. MacGregor Mathers and Aleister Crowley. The method itself is a massive five-stage-Saturn-V-rocket of a reading rooted in Hermetic Qabalistic principals, the entire proceeding usually taking a few hours to complete (though some may maintain it takes days). I won’t even consider displacing this article with the details, but will instead let Israel Regardie explain it himself in The Complete Golden Dawn System of Magic, Vol. 9 (beginning on p. 30). I simply wish to speak about my own personal experience of the method.

I found three aspects of the Opening of the Key to be particularly inspirational to me as a reader. The first is the use of a significator, or a card that represents the querent. Even before being exposed to OOTK, I had recognized the significator’s usefulness as a “GPS tracker” for pertinent information relating directly to the querent and used it regularly with consistent success. Another factor that appealed to my approach was elemental dignities, which in a nutshell are the dynamics between the classical elements that are either beneficial, neutral or antagonistic. I have since adopted this method as an alternative to reading ‘reversed’ cards, a technique I never quite got used to. So, if I found the significator nestled between the Empress and the 6 of Wands, that goal the querent has been patiently moving toward will likely be reached, although no miraculous strokes of fortune should be expected.

A third and less quantifiable facet of OOTK is that with some exceptions, there are no real fixed positional meanings, and even those exceptions are broad themes rather than specific categories. While some readers might find this challenging, what eventually struck me was the inherent freedom in this approach to arrive at meaning by inference, as the cards themselves determine the position’s significance. Here was the point in which the butterfly truly comes to life, where skills in deduction and intuition are both being called upon to pull order from the aether. Through this technique a narrative emerges without being bogged down by a checklist of compartments, every bit of information organically building off another. One way to look at it is as an advanced version of Scrabble, working with visual symbols rather than letters and generating constellations of poetic phrasing instead of mere words.

More peculiar bits of the OOTK include the counting and pairing of the cards. The counting technique seems arbitrary at first, the numeric values of the cards determined by arcane factors, but the effect this has is what I surmise to be the “Key” aspect of the reading. As the counting progresses, the process reveals itself to be like working out a combination number or inserting a key into a lock, opening some positions while leaving others. A subset of the symbolic information stream emerges, like you’ve just gained authorized access to sensitive material. As the pairing process goes, I liken it to the “Fold-In” pages of Mad Magazine, where a complex illustration is folded in on itself to reveal another image that suggests an additional perspective. This is in effect what happens in the reading: another angle appears by recombining elements of the larger picture, and often in both a metaphorical and literal sense, ties up loose ends.

The Opening of the Key consists of five distinct sections, or “operations”. I discovered that the First Operation alone is extremely adaptable. It can easily be performed on its own as a stand-alone 30-minute reading, being able to sift out an array of key points. The opening “Tetragrammaton” technique has been a godsend in addressing general readings as it covers all the bases, and is particularly useful in pinpointing pressing concerns. If their significator turns up in the first Hé pack, for example, it would indicate their focus is on a relationship, or they are being affected by the matter primarily on an emotional level. I could also truncate the operation further by zeroing in on just the two cards flanking the significator rather than fanning out the entire stack, making it an effective 10-minute reading, and with a bit of imagination (and some Qabalistic cross-checking) convert it into a timeline interpretation, each stack representing successive temporal spans.

The subsequent operations of the Opening of the Key are what their subtitles suggest: development and further development of the question. If the Second and Third Operations look familiar to some readers, they bear a distinct resemblance to a circular twelve-card astrological reading that addresses the querent’s experience in specific aspects of life as governed by the houses and signs. The Fourth Operation expands on this structure by subdividing each sign into their three decans, presenting itself as an intimidating 36-card circle, but nonetheless acts an electron microscope scrutinizing even finer grist for the mill. I have also encountered a ten-card spread based on the Qabalistic Tree of Life (which I occasionally use), each position based on the Tree’s ten sephirah, which by peculiar coincidence is the structure the Fifth Operation. Being as the OOTK was developed around the beginning of the 20th century, I can’t help but wonder if it was the source of inspiration for these spreads.

Since my exposure to this method, I’ve used it almost exclusively and have even developed a personalized variation of it which has yielded successful results. Every so often I revert to a 15-card spread (said to have also originated in the Golden Dawn, though that claim is in dispute), but the Opening of the Key still draws me back with its fascinating potential. I suspect I’ve only just started to unlock its many hidden codes.

Friday, June 28, 2013

Why I Left the Esoteric Community

Barely a year after I began investigating tarot as a divination tool, I stumbled upon the more studious aspects of the occult orders and spiritual philosophies that have been embedded into this system of cartomancy. I believed (and still do) that such an approach made for much deeper and profound readings, and perhaps had a sense of pride in following this tradition. However, the recognition of contemporary attitudes inspired by this system have gradually transformed that pride into embarrassment.

My embarrassment was catalyzed by an increasingly noticeable schism in the tarot community as a whole. On one side, there is the 'intuitive' school, basing their reading technique more on direct impressions of the imagery, some employing psychic skills to enhance their readings. On the other, we have the 'esoteric' school, which champions the more systematic and arcane approach carved out by seasoned scholars and occultists. Both sides make ample opportunities to state their cases, but unfortunately it all too often devolves into childish mud-slinging festivals. Such a poisonous rivalry had been irritating me for some time and made me very reluctant to participate in community dialog, having to maintain integrity in the crossfire of two entrenched camps.

It finally came to a head while perusing through an online forum devoted to esoteric tarot. For the most part, the discussions were engaging and stimulating, but were more often than not tainted by individuals cloaking themselves in airs of self-importance, wantonly flaunting their knowledge in an arrogant and elitist manner in transparent attempts to demonstrate how "evolved" they were, usually in a boorish and acerbic manner. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tolerate such attitudes, but when I came across one too many posts ridiculing intuitive readers, the last straw had been laid down. I promptly ejected myself from the forum and have not returned.

This is not to suggest I have abandoned the esoteric approach; I continue to refresh my education of such methods. What I have abandoned is the misguided sense of superiority that apparently comes with the package. If what I have learned in my travels through the Western mystery tradition has informed we well enough, a truly enlightened being would have no use whatsoever of such an attitude, and in fact would have the capacity to hold contrary beliefs as being equally valid. Even the most advanced of esoteric practitioners have stated that knowledge needs to be balanced with intuition, as an exclusive reliance on the analytical mind constitutes only half of the information available.

The very definition of 'esoteric' implies exclusivity: "designed for or understood by the specially initiated alone"; "requiring or exhibiting knowledge that is restricted to a small group". Indeed, those who developed such a body of occult knowledge went to great lengths to keep that knowledge secret, fearing it could be misused in the hands of those who did not adequately comprehend the intents and purposes behind such knowledge. It amounts to higher education, employing advanced cognizant skills and referencing complex networks of information to arrive at a well-considered conclusion.

"Intuition" is defined as "the ability to understand something immediately, without the need for conscious reasoning". If we accept this definition, the implication is that a direct perception exists that can supersede the analytical process. While some would relate this to instinct, relating to the more primitive aspects of the human mind, it could just as easily be operating at a level beyond the consciousness, tapping into a form of intelligence existing on an extra-personal ethereal level. Perhaps intuition consists of elements of both primitive and advanced perception.

What we are dealing with is in effect the uses of both hemispheres of the brain: the right concentrating on the abstract and the left focusing on the concrete. In Qabalistic terms, it is Netzach and Hod respectively, both of which occupying opposing polarities. While this polarity is vital in creating a dynamic and living system, either one by itself achieves limited results, and in fact has the potential to independently create destructive effects. I find it no coincidence that the path connecting the two is related to the Tower card, symbolizing an explosive liberation of perception; nor is it accidental that the path crossing it on the Middle Pillar is that of Temperance, which seeks to meld and synthesize those opposites as it strives towards a greater form of intelligence. We may let those energies naturally condense in the unconsciousness of Yesod, or we can actively combine them to achieve a higher equilibrium in Tipheret.

I myself would prefer the upward trajectory. There is a prevalent mentality that if you have not chosen a side, you are a fence-sitter who lacks conviction. My conviction is to surmount that mentality and embrace the whole.