My journal entries often begin unpromisingly, in a down in the dumps way … then a weather-change rises from the deep, as I write my path along the shadow. Those testy bits of life and English fog are ALCHEMICAL as the box opens. A blank and dreary mood transforms to a philosophers’ Stone, a river. A pig’s ear turns to silk.
In my next post, I shall tell you – another diary entry or “transformer” – how I rode into the map last week beyond my bike-bump (there are no accidents), and what I discovered there: how strength as the river flows and the roots grow, is softness. Then we shall return to the SITA suit of Lotuses – the Knight, Queen and King.
TODAY, Dear Magid, I am in a misery of life. I am worried about my loved ones and their difficulties. Scratchy panics break surface. Indoors all summers day yesterday, struggling to make a box – a Cube of Space, which I had promised to someone – been battling with this delayed construction. I was determined to make progress with it, though I nearly gave up. But at last I have a cube, with coloured cloth glued & stitched over hardboard, and I think I can make it stand up firmly by sewing in little ties at the inside corners. The Cube is a philosophical instrument or tool of stability. Maybe it will gladden my life at present. I can visualise it. The six faces are each 12” square, it is a Latin cross, one side is white, the other side is in the Cube Tarot colours. It cost me an arm and a leg in glues and materials and general exhaustion and dispiritedness and the telly.
Hey – I made a mistake ! (see below.) Will re-do the east and west sides later.
And oh! I missed playing in my blog – my alchemical crucible, and the feeling that I keep a contact going there – I was away from home for a few days, and then I was too busy. I feel flat miserable about everything at present. One of my famous DULL PATCHES. My sad personal scenarios have a field day: the heavy itch of sorrow and grief generally: also the state of humanworld. The prevailing dysfunction.
Dear Magid, I noticed a quality of my mind, my mental setup. It charges into the problem like a cart-horse, at first sublimely confident, it forces the matter to “solve”, it blunders and tries to fix and limps and sags and gets it the wrong way round and gets worn out. It is the same in conversation when my buttons are pushed. The Goat goes into overdrive, and I get carried away.
It is one of the unattractive traits of Capricorn. I go into emotional overdrive very easily, when with my parents or with anyone I am close to. I promise myself not to, but it happens. I babble about love and things, or I start advising or trying to fix. The Galloping Goat leaves me depressed and muddy. Magid, what do you think?
AND: the need to be truthful. Honesty is not easy. Some persons whom I respect, tell comfortable lies about their past, which they believe in by now. I would also, if my past wasn’t all diary’d in detail. There is some personal lie telling in any account: the white wash and fear of emotional exposure: the local – loco ! – editor.
But my inner need is the unvarnished truth. This is very difficult to reach, between persons.
My mother wrote letters during the war, which are a vivid and unconventional record of the times. She thinks her letters are all white-washed, and to some extent they are; and yet they bare her soul. I keep and read hundreds of letters which my parents wrote to the Edes – all preserved. With their youth and passion, they recorded the glories of English wild flowers, birdsong and the backbreaking labour of postwar farming. My busy father’s more occasional letters develop his philosophy of human-ness, and his painful struggle to make it work in himself. They have an illumined beauty and tenderness: that which he was erratic with in family life. He was shell-shattered from the war. Tears! Oh – it gets so mangled! If one is a writer – of books, blogs or letters – the ESSENCE of the daily battle emerges like the wild flower from the tangled path … as I sense it does at our death: the clarity of our entire life is telescoped into high-relief, and the Beauty shines. Thus the authenticity of my mother’s letters, and my father’s, and what I do now. I try to show all the shadow with the light – like they did, and still do, at ninety.
But the light makes the shadow disappear! The more light you let in … ah, this is the paradox. As I grew up, I had a passion for the Shadow. I lived along the edge.
My childhood was not always happy. How could it have been? I am the same now. But it was rich in essence, landscape and opportunity. The fertile stress between my mother and father in their years together, developed my artistic gift. I contemplate and just catch the full flavour now, as it percolates: something of their private conundrum to each other – a shared task, and their surviving companionship. Hard times are as golden as the easier ones, as I grew up among persons who work the ground and love nature. There is a philosophical stone … the old sundial in our rose-garden at Broomlands. My father chased me and my sister round it in a fury with a stick, when we were being very bad.
In relationships, we cannot hope to be brazenly honest with each other – look at the disasters my clumsy attempts got me into – but I try to be truthful with myself. I can try to do this daily. Occult language, and even astrology, seems less relevant as time goes on. It is another mask to peel away, as it begins to convert to living openly. But it is mighty helpful for colour enhancing, for seeing the bigger picture, and for the cosmic codes and keys which unveil the inner Great Work.
I can’t believe this. I’ve sewn the east and west sides of the Cube of Space the wrong way round! Red is Mars, and faces north. Green is Venus, and faces east. I put the violet square, which should face west. Now the long labour to unglue, unstitch, and change them around. Blast and dammit. Isn’t that just typical !
The top face (yellow) is Mercury: the bottom face (blue) is the Moon. The south face is the Sun, and it is orange. Indigo is Saturn in the Cube’s centre point, within.
The truth of the moment – whatever the miseries – is the sea in my face: attending to the present flavour without comment: the salt of the earth – the feeling. It is a sorrow that I have to watch stupid telly during the day when trying to do or make something, just to push away the dreary stuff in my mind; but you know – the present society and its inane distractions and cushion technology IS THE HARDSHIP ZONE. We cannot repair the innards of our own cars and telephones – we are buffered away from that skillful contact with the way things work.
Whatever period I lived in, had its stress and hardship zone. The consumerist microchip is a terrible place for the soul to be – and yet it manages, the soul integrates with the electronic junk, and converts it to an adequate medium, a ship to sail. In other historical periods and in large parts of the world today, we have religious intolerance, female mutilation, grinding physical hardship, starvation, military conscription – all in their ways, are just as bad. In this period we have toxic-addictive entertainment, and the destructive uglification of the biosphere – a mass de-sensitization. This is no different in essence, from the violent social mores of yesteryear. They prevail in this form. There was a time when NOBODY’s house and cattle was safe from civil wars and robber barons. Nowadays, no one’s house is safe from invasive moron-technology – devices and fiendish frustration with carcinogenic call-centres.
But what about my truth? What is it? Thou who art behind my shoulder, what is my truth today, where should I go, what do you see? This question cheers me a little, it reminds me that no matter what the day, and what to do, (Wigmore Hall with Southgate, then Clark’s astrology quiz) I have no idea what will happen or what will be, it is unknown and full of potential. Life is up to me to taste: taste it carefully now, and keep tasting. Savour the flavour rather than the her-story.
Magid what do you see? What are we up to?
A SECRET DAKINI ORACLE: 12 – Kali slaying the ego To the left is 0 Joker, and to the right is 17 Island of Jewels.
I don’t like dakini 12. There’s the black goddess all alone and fierce in the sky, chopping off heads. I feel like a pruned bush – a slaughtered corner, after garden clearance. Indeed the serene Hanging Man depends between two lopped trees in some tarots. In the Builders of the Adytum, he hangs inside a TAV. 12 is when things turn over or reverse. It flips the world-view; it suggests the other swing of a pendulum. Not a comfortable situation to begin with. The challenge is to hang in it peacefully, finding pendulum’s rest ; tread the sky: be born here and now. Birth is uncomfortable. There’s black Kali up there, cutting the cord!
Being predisposed to inner work, is hard and distressing in life and in the nightmare widgets, weevils and idiocies which buzz around the well. There is no avoiding these distressed and dreary moments. Keep quiet, this too shall pass. Judge not. In distress, there are vicious little elementals which we only see in very bad dreams; but we suffer their pressure and persuasions. I am deeply sad that persons I am close to, do not have THE CONSOLATION.
The consolation is the Wisdom, which in due course comes to the fray, even when I cannot see it against the light. The Wisdom is like the fourth incoming horse in Dakini Oracle 47, whose reflection only is glimpsed in the wet sand beach.
The hanging man is about this type of reflection. The Island of Jewels is really the Star Woman who is naked, who pours and looks into the pool and watches truth.
Perhaps 17 is the most nourishing of all the Tarot Keys. It always invites peace, hope and depth. I mentioned the well, didn’t I? Well, she is the well, the pipeline from the stars, the root in earth, the Violet. Look – the Cube of Space’s west side is violet, the east side is green – the leaves of the flower. Healing remedy applied! A certain remarkable gardener goes around making wines, candy and alchemical balms from the flowers he harvests with tools made of bone, when the astrodynamic astrology is about to crest. That is a towering skill I admire and cannot hope to emulate.
But I apply the dressings of beautiful tinctures as they come to my soul. And I contemplate the picture-sentences under the dakini cards: the stems to the flowers.
I am in touch now, with my well. The spinal core, up and down: the cuore or choir. My morning’s work is always the same – to restore the choir, the inward touch which is Real, finding Reality – the Medicine – unconditionally. The philosophers’ Stone is here for the polishing: polish the mundane – the Beauty breathes inside. It doesn’t push away the heavy cloud yet, but the Woman of the Well gives Hope.
My adventure invites fellow travellers. I am a poet, an artist and a seer. I welcome conversation among the PHILO SOFIA, the lovers of wisdom.
This blog is a vehicle to promote also my published work – The Sacred India Tarot (with Rohit Arya, Yogi Impressions Books) and The Dreamer in the Dream – a collection of short stories (0 Books). Watch this space.
aquariel link – posts on Master R
All art and creative writing in this blog is copyright © Janeadamsart 2012. May not be used for commercial purposes. May be used and shared for non-commercial means with credit to Jane Adams and a link to the web address https://janeadamsart.wordpress.com/
Thank you Jane From one sad goat to another.
I find it difficult to get up for the past few days- a torpid wariness and nothing much to pin it on ( even looked at solar activities) What to do ? try and monitor my thoughts without much success.
So am admiring your cube within and without.
Much love, g
Thank you Jane for another look into our depths.
Looking into that well, against the backdrop of clouds. we see, in reflection, each other.
Strangely, I made the same mistake – reversing the East and West sides – when constructing my first Cube of Space! Fortunately, mine are virtual (existing only in the computer), so I could rectify easily. Unfortunately, I’d still revealed my “wrong’un” to the world, through Twitter!
This is one of the right ones, with Tarot keys oriented to reflect direction of energy flow http://twitpic.com/df5hvd.
Just took a look at it Stephen, on your site – ver-y nice! Yes I see how you have oriented the Tarot Keys. Interesting about east and west. I often had them confused, in other contexts also.