A Clean Slate

Based on a dream entered into my journal on Sept 9, 2013

     I was asked to take up a unique research assignment. I, along with others was asked which symbols signified death for us. In other words, when we think of death in general, whether the actual physical passing or deity associated, which symbols were most prevalent to us. In order to fully mediate over the subject of death and its’ symbols, our professor suggested a visit to the graveyard where we would sit beside various headstones. We were each to choose a particular headstone, one that felt right, one that would be conducive to this type of work. We walked through the cemetery entrance, while the professor remained outside, watching. No one knew exactly why we had to choose a headstone, but after a considerable amount of time walking and perusing the endless stones and epitaphs, I finally found one that was welcoming. I could see my classmates spread about the cemetery, all of whom have generally settled on their stone. I sat down upon the grass and stared into my lap. I said absolutely nothing and come to think of it, I heard no chatter from my colleagues either. The professor at the cemetery’s gate was preoccupied with his own matters, most of which were administrative in nature. I sat there, wondering exactly how long I would have to go about in this as my eyes rolled up and down, staring one moment at my lap and the next at the headstone. I was not there terribly long. Feeling the grass beneath me, I thought quietly about this project and these supposed symbols, when finally, I saw something stirring within the headstone itself. There was a slight mist over the surface which then disappeared. The engraved epitaph was gone as if the crevices of each letter were filled in. Talk about a clean slate, it could not get any cleaner than this. I saw symbols which flashed upon the surface of the glassy granite. The symbols revealed were the following: a red rose, a bible (sacred book), a cross, various musical instruments, keys, a set of dice, dominoes, a perfectly tall black top hat and of course, a skull.

     I scribbled down each of these symbols as they were presented to me. I knew it was time for me to leave, as the stone no longer portrayed images. I stood up and headed back to the cemetery’s entrance. After our gathering, we walked back together, speaking enthusiastically amongst ourselves about our personal experience. The following day, I was driven to begin writing my findings, while a number of my colleagues teased me about my level of interest to begin my research paper. I ignored them and continued to work through my project until its completion. Sadly, those who teased me were the very people whom continued to put off the writings of their experiences & findings. The professor watched me from time to time as I wrote into my notebook, as I hardly lifted my eyes or pen off the page. After an extensive period of time, I completed my work and soon rejoined the group. In a matter of minutes, my colleagues were already chatting of their next planned venture. I agreed to accompany them just so that I could take my mind off my work for a little. We left only to arrive, at my dismay, to a place I have never encountered before. This place was disordered and filthy. People who resided in this area decided to live a soiled & dirty life. There was a rule prohibiting bathing, yet that rule did not seem to faze them. In fact, they preferred the filth and stench!
     I spotted a water fountain some ways away and felt impelled to jump into it and bath myself. I did so blatantly disregarding the posted rule prohibiting it. I felt the cool & clear water run down over me. It was refreshing. Others looked on and watched me but avoided this water fountain. I motioned to a man about my age and invited him to join me in the water fountain. Apprehension was written across his face, but in an instant, he too joined me and rejoiced at the feeling of the water that washed away the grime that had built upon his skin over a considerate amount of time. We invited others nearby to join us, and to rejoice, but they did not dare to do so out of fear! They were afraid of a sign with an outlandish rule, a law which no one enforced. These people had the opportunity to bath and cleanse themselves, but instead, choose to remain soiled. Was it really this easy to suppress free will?
     Though bathing was prohibited, there was a limited time it was allowed. I watched as these people flocked to the public bathing area. To my complete disbelief, these people bathed themselves in unclean water. I did not comprehend the reasoning for bathing in the murky pools of water, when the option for clean water existed. I watched this absurd spectacle and tried to understand the choice of this society. It was at this moment I arrived at an epiphany. These people chose filth because they refused to come clean. There would never be a clean slate for them unless they chose to will it.
     Having come to this conclusion, I departed the fountain and walked away, leaving this ludicrous scene behind me. Eventually, I came upon a small clean neighborhood. There was an intimate shop located at the corner which seemed peculiar, peculiarly intriguing indeed! I walked inside and was drawn to an area of scrolls. I sifted through various documents and objects on a waist level shelf when an empty space along the wall behind the shelf in front of me a scroll appeared, hanging on a rusted nail. It was fully extended, revealing the image within. The image was that of the high priestess. Beneath her image there was a phrase in script which read: “secrecy in circle.” I smiled and thought, “well that sure is the absolute truth!” I called on the shop owner, an older woman, and inquired about the price of the scroll. She smiled and said, take it, it is yours. As I lifted the image from the nail and rolled it back up again, a unique long necklace appeared in my hands. The shop owner suggested I take it for my use. She did not utter another word about the origins or its’ particular use and I did not feel it necessary to ask. If fact all was secret in circle, then I would find out at my own time. The necklace was long, made of both silver & brass metals, beaded with sky blue stones. The necklace had a large pendant of which the image of the high priestess was engraved. I put the necklace on and held onto my scroll. The shop owner smiled and disappeared. I took that as my cue to leave. I headed out the door and immediately awoke.
  

©2014 by Ana owner of ALDTarot.com

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Encounter with a Magnificent Being ©

The following is an entry from an experience I encountered the evening of December 27, 2013.

     I stood before a tall angel whose dark skin seemed iridescent, as it shimmered with a bronze like glow. He was quite the sight to behold. I could not take my eyes off of him and wondered very much whom he was. What was his name? What was this place? What did he reign? As these question floated in my mind, I noticed the outline of the steel helmet he wore. The helmet was covered in the finest intricate designs, etched by the hands of the unknown. Mounted atop of his helmet was the tip of a very sharp spear. The flesh meeting the edges of his helmet glimmered and soon, my eyes traveled down the bridge of his nose. It was at this precise moment I noticed his perfectly small and pointy nose. It suited his face of perfection. From the tip of his nose my eyes moved left and right to examine the remainder of his rounded face. His lips were petite yet plump. My gaze traveled down the length of his long neck, reaching his shoulders and chest, which were bare. He was muscular and it was at this moment that I felt embarrassed for viewing him through carnal eyes. Realizing my human fault, I continued to observe this creature in a manner that would not be disrespectful, for I was allowed here for a reason, a reason which so far, has not been revealed to me. Looking beyond his shoulders I saws wings tucked behind him. He was a gorgeous dark angel of whom the universe allowed me to view before me. This was a privilege and I sure did not want to behave in a manner that would quickly end my chance for this experience. His wings were not white; they were gradients of dark shades. His feathers shined as they were healthy and strong.

    He was seated at his throne and slowly, I ascended the white and grey marbled steps towards him. Each step brought me higher and within a closer proximity of him. One hand rested on the arm of his throne while the other lay on his left knee. Around both his wrists he wore steel bands, the same metal as his helmet. Approaching the final step, I knew how soon I would stand directly before him. It was at this moment that he admonished me by saying: “how dare you come here!” His voice was elegant yet the sound it made was like thunder. The entire hall rumbled at his statement. I did not know what to answer because I was not exactly sure how it is I made it there. In fact, as I traveled on the astral, by the guidance of the higher power, this was the last place I thought I would end up. It always took me where I needed to be and so I trusted this as my destiny for the evening. I did what I knew best as he waited for my reaction to his voice & my eventual answer. I waited, in silence, contemplating his question and my answer. He watched me patiently, as he knew what I was doing by not answering straight away. His expression softened a bit. I answered him with a question: “which archangel are you?” He smiled and said absolutely nothing. So he was not an archangel and I went through a series of questions off the top of my head just to eliminate the possibilities. He continued to smile and did not answer. Finally, I asked him: “which element do you belong to?”

     It was this question which warranted a certain reaction from him. He smiled widely and outstretched both of his arms towards me. In a moment, my foot moved forward, then the next. Once I was closer to him, he pulled me into his chest and closed his arms around me. I knew that from this moment forward, I was not going anywhere, nor did I care to leave just yet. His wings extended and soon we both elevated up from the throne. He continued to fly upward towards the heavens, away from his hall. He then showed me his state of content to see me. Does he know me? Do I know him? What is going on? These were all questions which began to fade as a feeling of euphoria and ecstasy took over. Electrical currents were exchanged between us and we continued to exchange in this manner for what seemed like a substantial amount of time. This was wonderful-- elation like the one I have never experienced before. I did not want this to end. I did not want to go back. He looked at me, and I, at him. I asked him once again: “who are you?” He did not answer. Instead, he smiled. At that moment, his face morphed and soon a cloak covered his face so that I would no longer see him nor examine his features any longer. It felt like he was attempting to “spook” me in a sense. I told him, “Stop doing that!” Incredibly, he ceased and showed me his face once again. It was nearing the end of my visit, which was marked by his body becoming invisible. Though he was invisible, we flew together in this fashion until slowly, I too began to fade. Once I was completely invisible, I “woke up.” So many questions remained unanswered, yet I am at peace with that.

©2014 by Ana owner of ALDTarot.com

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Spiritualism under Attack

The following entry was a dream I experienced February 09, 2014.


     I was standing outside on the street looking up at a sign of a beautiful building which read: “The Spiritualist Church of Advent.” This church was immense and its’ membership was the envy of other churches & spiritualist organizations. I was invited to attend their services on various occasions. Each time I attended, the service became longer and more complicated. I saw this church adapt many customs of other churches, yet, executed the customs with their own twist based on their own “true & tried” practices. A man walked beside me wearing a beautiful light grey suit with a matching hat. He never spoke a word and opted to communicate his impressions with precise glances & subtle facial expressions. He kept his head down so others would not see him. He dressed exactly like other male members of this church and blended in perfectly, except that his suit was the lightest in color amongst this congregation. After a few visits to this church, I noticed my wardrobe changing only after a relatively short period of time. The church managed to dress me in their fashion and to their liking. Day in and day out I wore a drab navy blue skirted suit along with the same black leather satchel other women carried. From an outside appearance, I had become one of them.
     One evening, at the end of service, he dismissed everyone was except for a select few. I was one of those selected individuals. Interestingly, all visiting persons selected were women, while the majority of selected congregation members were male, with the exception of a few women, whom were outfitted in the same manner as me. The preacher announced to this elite group the beginning of “indoctrination.” I felt confused and everyone was quiet. The man who silently accompanied peeked over at me, and transmitted the necessity for my silence and to watch carefully what was about to take place. The preacher at the pulpit began to speak of the corrupt world and as an example (as well as to my surprise), he pointed to me making declarations of how I would not succeed because I would not confess the workings of my “black magic” and that a “demon” was “inside of me.” He continued on in this fashion for quite a long time. At no point did I ever lower my gaze or head. I stared straight into the faces of those seated around me. Needless to say, I was in utter shock! I could not believe this was the very organization which taught astrology as well as other “metaphysical” topics, which was why I began to attend in the first place!
     The man on the pulpit exalted his church as the only church that could effectively contact the angels and communicate to the higher planes. He also mentioned how the Esmeralda (emerald) tablet was introduced to me and used that fact to gain leverage over the necessity for me to rid myself of the “demon” or else I would not be able to see my past lives. On and on he when with his fear based banter, peculiar statements & contradictions. He pointed to a woman sitting in front of me and demanded her to repeat the vision she had of the demon wolves and how they represented the demons in my life. The entire time she spoke in a very small quiet voice, which trembled with fear towards the pastor. She briefly glanced at me as if to apologize. I felt she was being forced to lie. I noticed her hosiery was worn and battered. She took notice of my observation and tried to hide the worn parts of her clothing. In contrast, the men around the room wore expensive suits made of the fine cloth. The man at the pulpit spoke of my “sinful” life and attempted to bash every part of my being. At one point I began to believe his words and felt a sense of guilt, not knowing what I was guilty of to begin with. I noticed church leaders standing outside, trying to peep in, envious as they wondered how they too could reach this level of achievement.
     At this moment, one of the women who were to be indoctrinated was asked to stand and go to a back room. As she stood, two men grabbed her by each arm and dragged her to the back room. She began to protest and yelled asking why she was being treated this way. The male members sat leisurely together, attentively listening, knowing what was going to happen next. The smell in the air changed and soon, I felt greatly unease, aside from the fact I was used as some sort of “example” for others. I then heard her screaming hard. I was terrified. The two men who dragged her slapped and hit her in ways I could only imagine, but could clearly hear. How was this accepted? Her cries & screams echoed throughout the church. As I looked at the men around me, their faces were cold and stern. They could care less about the beatings this woman received. An older gentleman said he was disappointed in her because other women could take the beatings silently and without putting up a fight. He said how she should just be “quiet” and “follow her calling.” I felt the urge to get up and smack him myself. At this point, one of the men decided to play the sound of horses galloping on a radio, mimicking the sound of the chariot of God. I was irate at their boldness to simulate this sound, as they knew not what the power of experiencing it firsthand meant. By this point, I felt a large warm invisible hand lay across the back of my neck that began to massage my neck in order to calm me. An accompanying voice spoke into my ear and instructed me to “relax.” My anxiety began to slip away and soon this “church” faded into the thin air.

©2014 by Ana owner of ALDTarot.com

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Tribute to the Tower Card: The End and Beginning of a New Era ©

The following entry involves a dream I had of my grandmother exactly 7-days before her eventual passing. I will miss our telephone conversations.


     I sat by myself in a small apartment, a place which did not reflect the home or location of where I currently live. No one home with me and for a brief moment, I felt like a bachelorette. In my right hand I held a green bottle of beer, of which I swigged from as I walked around the living room. It noticed it was time to tidy up because dust began to accumulate faster than usual. It seemed as though I had not dusted in ages actually, and that took me off guard for a bit. Why was I here? Nevertheless, I enjoyed sipping the cool beer. It was unusually sunny out given that it was now winter time and out of curiosity, I looked out the living room window, immediately taking notice of the tropical surroundings outside. I was no longer on U.S. mainland, but rather living on the Island of Puerto Rico.
      I lived in a small downstairs apartment of a two family home. The neighborhood was quiet and the house was merely a few feet away from the house next door. The two houses shared a walkway visible only from the back of the homes. The walkway was closed off to the public in the front of the homes by a tall private gate. No one could look through it as it was made of solid substance. I sat down, situating myself comfortably upon the loveseat when I noticed the face of a woman with not much of a body visibly attached to it walking down the walkway towards my door. She was accompanied by a very tall quiet man. For some reason, I thought him to be her driver and/or escort. I opened the front door and saw the same woman to be my grandmother. Filled with happiness over her surprise visit, I hugged her at the door and asked her to come in. I apologized for not tidying up before her arrival, but she did not seem to mind. She had not yet spoken a single word which I found odd because she was social butterfly. In her hands she held a small tray with a salad of baby spinach and other vegetables that I loved. I took the tray from her and placed it on the coffee table, thanking her for the food as I explained how she did not have to go through the trouble.
     Setting the tray down, I noticed she preferred to stand though I insisted her to do so. She told me she was thrilled to see me. She smiled and laughed but uttered no other words. Looking at her I began my conversation, catching her up on as many things in my life that I could possibly think of at that moment. I cannot remember what I told her, but throughout my discussion, she smiled and laughed in acknowledgement. She was extremely happy and content. It was at that moment that I took note of the alteration of her physical appearance. Her hair was parted and pinned in the manner she preferred, however, her hair was longer and reached her shoulders. The wrinkles on her face had melted away; her eyes were shinny and bright; and she no longer wore glasses. I do not recall my grandmother looking so young in my lifetime. She seemed 30-40 years younger. She stood erectly and without any pain or assistance. She was rejuvenated and strong. At that moment, she came to understand that I was beginning to come to a realization about her. The tall man to her right wore the most elegant black suit, a suit which would make any man envious. He was so tall that his head touched the ceiling. I could not see his face and something kept telling me not to look up into it. As my grandmother looked up at him they exchanged smiles and an unspoken communication. I had the feeling that her visit was accurately timed. I no longer spoke, and held to my moment of silence, waiting for an answer, a reply. What was going on? She hugged me and told me that it was time for her to go. I pleaded for her not to leave because I enjoyed her company and wanted her to stay a while longer. She told me that she had to leave with her escort. The tall man never identified himself, but his presence made me feel relaxed. I hugged her tightly one last time before they both turned around to leave. I waved goodbye at her; she waved back. I watched the two walk back in the direction they came from. I never saw them turn a corner, but instead, their bodies faded away. I stood at my door, at the top of my front steps, hoping I would see my grandmother again. I felt a bit saddened by her quick departure.

     A week later, I received news of my grandmother who had been hospitalized for over a week. She had been brought back to life on a few occasions. I was able to relay my message to her that Saturday night via a relative who watched her. I was told to call early the next morning because she would be able to speak with me on the phone. That phone call did not have the chance to take place. It was relayed to me that my grandmother smiled, laughed and said that she knows how much I loved her. A few days prior to her death, on Dec. 5, 2013, my daily tarot oracle card reading turned up the tarot trump “tower” & the Lenormand image of the scythe. Later on that day, it was announced that Nelson Mandela had passed. Three days later, my grandmother passed in the wee hours of the morning on Dec. 8. 2013. I now realize she was saying farewell to me days prior to her final curtain call.

     I want to personally thank everyone for his or her kind words & thoughts of encouragement. We are all connected; the collective is stronger than the one. When one person suffers, we feel its rippling effect. When one person succeeds, that energy is emanated throughout the whole and thus, we all succeed. Success is measured by how well we can overcome and bounce back; seating ourselves back in the saddle to continue our journey. To my loving grandmother, the strongest woman I have known, thank you. To all of you who have sent your prayers, thank you, I have and continue to feel energy of healing. The circle is open not broken. Success!

©2013 by Ana owner of ALDTarot.com

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The Tarot Hospital

Based on a dream I had earlier this year, on Tuesday, February 19, 2013.

     I dreamed I was in a hospital and a female doctor spoke adamantly with me, suggesting, in a prolonged conversation, the importance of subjecting my body to a battery of severe tests as well as extensive and invasive surgical procedures. Without any piece of factual information, she explained the need to cut me open immediately in order to remove sections of major muscle groups. She regurgitated this speech which gained successful with many others. Her voice was suggestive to the point that it was hypnotizing. A man sat near her in a shadow, his face was not visible. She looked over to him and without a single word, nodded her head in agreement with him. She explained the importance in having my bones purposely broken in order to have them properly set the way “they” liked them to be. She took the time to clarify how my legs would have to be frozen for a good period of time. Though this was a disturbingly jolting conversation to have, and felt impressed as I watched the many people whom have idiotically subjected themselves to these paralyzing procedures.

     This swaying moment was short lived and soon I was filled with sheer rage at the fact that these two individuals expected me to sit there across from them, quietly accepting a fate that would permanently immobilize me. PARALYZE ME! Electricity raced through my limbs, shooting me up from the drab chair I sat in all that day. I could not understand what took me so long to grasp the intent of these two individuals in their so called hospital. Before I knew it, my mouth opened, declaring the doctors as quacks. They were a mockery to all of those whom earned the title “Doctor.” Here this woman spoke and acted under the direction of the faceless man. They disabled the masses, rendering the souls to a state of virtual immobility. The paralyzed ones would now depend on hospital services for the remainder of their lives.
     Disgusted, I turned around and walked out. There was complete silence as my objection was one not forecasted. The stillness soon became interrupted with a riot. No one anticipated someone like me to see through the mask. Walking and standing taller than I ever did before, I felt warmth and energy building up in my legs. The hospital was a complete front, a forgery, a place to render people incapable of making their own choices. I was not going to let this institution deteriorate me. I could not understand why I needed a place to “reset” me in order for tarot to work for me. Why would this place seek to freeze ambitions and dreams of those who sought the knowledge of tarot? These were questions I could not answer. With sheer disgust I walked away, refusing to take any part of that charade.

We all have the power to move away and follow our dreams without the meddling and paralyzing views of others.

©2013 by Ana owner of ALDTarot.com

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Strength and Perseverance When You need it ©

The following entry is based on a lucid dream which took place early in the morning at 5am EST, on September 18, 2013.


It is easy to speak of strength when you have the power of people, orders, associations, money, and recognition to support you. What of your strength when such circles no longer exist? What voice will you follow?

     I dreamed that a king, who declared me his queen a long time ago, turned to corruption. The days when we reigned, wearing our vestments of burgundy & gold were now faint memories. In those days, we worked conjunctly towards achieving the greater good for the people. However, a dark shadow had begun to cast itself across my king and each day, this saddened me even more then the day before. I could not understand why this darkness would not leave my king’s side and soon, his face became unrecognizable to me. He worked on many plans, which he took ample care to conceal from me. One day, I ran across some of his personal papers and found a parchment with an outline for his principal plan to blind and fool the people of the kingdom. Little by little, my king appointed new people into positions that were once occupied by those whom the shadows could not affect. These newly chosen individuals were encircled by blackness and I had to take great care when speaking and intermingling with them for they scrutinized me carefully, speculating, how and when their plan would take effect to control me.

     There were very few who remained in office, probably due to my extremely close ties with them. We were the few whom greeted each other openly, with embraces and smiles. While embraced, my confidants would speak a single word into my ear. Each word, over time, built upon the other, to form coherent and exacting information regarding the dark reign of our king. He no longer confided in me and the more I pushed him to disclose his plans, the more elusive he became with his communications. He claimed one thing, when he actually meant another. It was through this mode which he self-assured my fall into his trap. Bit by bit, the kingdom became engulfed in darkness. The people could not speak unless spoken to by the king himself. They walked, soullessly, through the streets. The sun no longer shined. Sentinels in the form of a specific breed of demon were conjured and lined the streets, keeping watch. Their function became those of little watch towers, whereby all was observed and reported to the king.
     One day, during a private meeting in the king’s court which excluded my confidants and me, he began to conjure a mass of darkness whose tendrils swayed back and forth, floating mystically in the air. The king answered to this darkness and soon, I knew that an attack would ensue if I were not quick to react. Standing outside of the court’s doors, my confidants raced towards me. I was to become the “Sigach/Shiga” (a word which I am phonetically spelling) of a new order. I was no longer the Sigach/Shiga (spelled phonetically) of this order, as this order served to blind and restrict the people from serving their higher purpose. This saddened me because I never thought I would have to leave my king’s side in this manner. There was no choice. The king saw my confidants and I standing in the outer court which led to his inner court. He was surprised and enraged for he did not want me to witness his secret ritual. The two women who remained by my side, each grabbed one of my arms. As their Sigach/Shiga, they vowed to protect me. I could not be more fortunate.
     The darkness before the king swirled and turned around to face us. Recognizing AND respecting the voice of darkness, we kneeled in reverence. This was a strong force by which the king now abused. His foolishness would gain him entry to severity against his life, as he thought darkness would never see his true intent. With respect we acknowledged darkness and soon afterwards, we rose to our feet. At this time, the three of us were able to ward off this darkness and the sentinels with our spoken word. The dark mass and the otherworldly sentinels would not strike us. This hesitance confused the king, but he dared not speak against darkness. He spirit was weak and his intentions would consume him. At this time, we departed the outer court. Heading towards the doors, there was a rustle behind us and I knew the king had ordered his servants to follow and catch us. Successfully we made it outside, but it was not without some struggle. We ran, searching for wood by which to hastily craft our wooden tools of protection. These tools were sacred to our order and could not be created by any other substance. With these tools, we were able to conjure an oversized cloak made of a fabric that no man could ever create. The cloak formed around us, forming the shape of a tent which covered us as we traveled along on foot.
     Within minutes, we came upon a large group of people kneeling in a plaza to our left. Their heads were shaven and they were marked. Their eyes were clouded within by a mysterious mist. They obeyed the orders of the sentinels who were sent forth by the king to gather the people to work his biddings. There was one young man however, who, though he kneeled, was not at all affected by the mist. His eyes were clear and beautiful. He was scared and looked around quietly, afraid that a word from him would have him facing an unknown yet horrific penalty. As I watched him I proposed to my confidants the need to save him. As we approached him, we motioned for him to stand and walk towards us. He did so without further hesitance and soon, his hand reached mine. I pulled him towards me, thereby leading him into our cloak. He was thankful and immediately expressed his fears of failure regarding our rate of success in leaving this place. His fears crippled his inner courage as well as the ability for him to foresee the success of our mission.
     At that moment, I turned towards him and my confidants became silent. In this silence the voice of a female goddess spoke over us and said the following: “In order to speak and teach of strength and perseverance, one must live and experience it.” Still looking into the young man’s eyes, I smiled and reiterated the instructions of the goddess. He remained quiet and after some time, no longer objected with disbelief the success of our mission. We ascended along a long stretch of ivory steps. In the middle of this wide stairway, sentinels took their places. This stairway led from the plaza below to a place above, which could not yet be seen with the naked eye. The sentinels’ faces were strange and their bodies were reminiscent of a type of animal and humanoid hybrid. They aligned themselves on each step and looked over and down at the land below, making sure no one would ascend these steps without authorization. When they saw us, they objected and questioned our presence and right to climb the steps. I looked into the eyes of the sentinels and soon, without any further exchange of words, they silenced themselves. They recognized our right to come and go as we needed. Continuing our ascent, we reached a plateau, which leveled off for some time. Further ahead there were even more steps to climb, but these were not occupied by any of the hideous creatures below. In fact, the stairway was open and vacant.
     At this time, we decided on taking some rest. The events of the day had tested our inner strength and the nature of our perseverance. My confidants and I agreed on an area off to the side where we could lay our physical bodies down for the evening. The young man was the first to lie down and I watched as he closed his eyes. He was exhausted from his constant state of alertness and fear. The three of us watched the young man nod off to sleep and one by one we agreed to retire. Despite the activities of the day, I felt quite awake and as everyone else slept, I watched. Our cloak, shaped like a tent, kept us safe and warm. Fear did not exist in this sacred space. For that, I was grateful. While the two women and the young man slept, I contemplated the words of the goddess. She was absolutely right. If we cannot muster up the inner strength to overcome obstacles, even when the odds are against us, then what right do we have to speak of such sacred strength?

After Thought: We need to self-evaluate what our strength depends on.

©2013 by Ana owner of ALDTarot.com

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A Failed Attempt in Taming the Panther ©

This entry is based on a vivid dream I had Friday, August 30, 2013 at 4:15am. Take the Strength tarot card and reverse it. Look upon this image while you read this entry.

     There was a middle aged man who seemed to have domesticated the black panther. This man gloated and walked about the public eye, with the panther by his side. He spoke confidently of his domesticating abilities which assured the panther from deserting his side. “His” panther strode ahead of him, pacing from left to right, right to left. The panther’s tail swished back and forth with displeasure, a detail he easily discounted. He walked about the community, with his chest puffed out and his chin in air. I observed this from the parking lot as he approached with the panther. I could not take my eye off the great beast. She was beautiful, well-built, robust and vigilant. Her eyes flashed with danger laced with the thoughts of a stress-free kill. Linking with my eyes, I understood the severity of this man’s infractions. At that moment, the panther opened her mouth and let out a growl, exposing her white sharp and smooth teeth which contrasted against the midnight color of her coat. Her hunger was faint; her impatience was not. She had provided this man ample time to alter his mode of existence, thought and behavior.
     Her growls grew wild as did the fears of those around her. She ran freely and soon, the confidant man’s eyes grew wary. For a brief moment, a grinned, but I knew this was no laughing matter, yet I could not help myself. I saw part of me in her. The panther commenced running circles, while the man chased her. Within moments, she turned and ran towards me. I stood in front of my car and froze in place. I could have easily jumped into my car, but I stood there, watching the beast run head-on towards me. As she approached, I heard another growl. Her teeth were exposed and in an instant, her front paws pushed off the ground. She leapt over me and I could feel the breeze her muscular body produced. She was magnificent and beautiful, but she was also lethal. As the creature landed on the other side of me, I saw the man running after her. I could not believe his restless attitude.
     At that moment, anger was loosed within me as I observed this man, driven by his ego and pride, chase after that which could easily devour him. How dare he think that he could entrap this creature? The panther roamed freely, she was not owned by anyone. No one could domesticate her. With this in mind, I opened my car door and climbed in. This was not my battle to fight. I knew the panther did not “require” anyone’s help. Contrary to his ignorant beliefs, she gave the man a final chance to save his own life. As I cranked up my car, I pulled out of this parking lot slowly, watching the debauchery in my side view mirror. This man’s ignorance will lead him to his death. He continued to push the limits and patience of the great beast and if he did not know when to quit, he would die a horrible death, with no opportunity to regain his honor. Honor? This man knew not of honor and pledged no allegiance to anyone or anything other than himself. He was a selfish fool, on a quest to tame the untamable. He would make an easy feast for the panther.
      I did not feel any remorse for him. All I felt was disgust. He knew not when to quit when he was ahead. As I glimpsed at the last few moments of this spectacle while driving away, I came to the understanding that he deserved what was coming to him. To the imbecile who wishes to trap that which is forbidden and unobtainable, where is your whip now?

I offer my prayers to enhance the panther’s prowess. It is better to let the wild beast roam or perish.

©2013
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