Union with the Prince, a Return to the Purified Ace ©

This entry is based on the dream of a Prince that was once forgotten.

     My mother, the queen met with a king who presented his son, the Prince to me. The Prince, elegantly dressed in garments of royal blue and gold, was pleased to meet my acquaintance. Handsome as he was, his soul spoke to mine. He was accompanied by a friend, another Prince who did not waste any time to suggest a conversation in order to get to know one another. From behind us, two Princesses approached us and attempted to disrupt our meeting. The Princesses were spiteful and jealous, as clearly, the attention the Prince rendered to me seemed unnecessary in their eyes as they thought themselves greater of status in comparison to me. They were cold and condescending, straining their energies to instill a sense of inadequacy within me. Looking down to me in the manner they did, their efforts to separate me from my Prince became much more vigorous. The king watched from across the court in utter displeasure as this was clearly not what he envisioned for his son and me, yet he could not do anything to interfere. If his son’s true desire was a destiny with the Princess ruled by the material along with her thirst for recognition, then he would be forced to suffer an eternal disappointment in his son. With sorrow he watched the two Princesses driven by arrogance and egotism slowly succeed in their malevolent plan to diminish a holy union.

     Meanwhile, congregated in an area of the court, all five of us stood, but it was only one who suffered public mockery and humiliation from the Princesses slashing tongues. On in this manner, malicious words and actions ensued, and my heart, heavy with sorrow, sank as it knew the last road left for me to take. There was no other option; I had to walk away from my Prince. Having settled on this choice, one which I regrettably needed to accept, I turned and departed the group, as my sense of self and confidence became the victim of dilution while in the presence of the five. I left the five, leaving behind the four, hearing all the while, as they celebrated friendship and possible marital union. The group of four became stale to the Prince and soon, he was able to see the truth of these false festivities, alas, unveiling the hidden agenda of the Princesses. The truth was simple as there was no truth to uphold the union with the dark hearted Princess. Turning his gaze towards me, he watched as I walked away in the near distance. By instinct, I felt him silently sounding off a faraway trumpet, a battle call for my return.
     Heeding the call, I turned my head to glance back at my beautiful Prince, who seemed to be ripped out of my future. To my surprise, he looked in my direction while quickstepping towards me, as the distance between us became narrower by the breath. In a moment, the celebration he willingly departed would come to an abrupt halt. The two Princesses immediately understood the Prince’s humble choice. Infuriated, the two stormed out of the court, abandoning the Prince’s close friend without any further word. The Prince ran towards me and when he reached me, he lifted me up in his embrace as my toes and heels swayed gently to the sound of our breath. Placing me back down on the ground, he motioned to guide me by his arm back to where his friend stood. The three of us proceeded to enjoy a humble celebration of a union that was meant to be. The king and queen watched in silence, overjoyed with content. The friend of my Prince smiled with sincerity as he blessed our happy union and bade us farewell. From the three, now stood two; a further reduction for reaching true happiness. The Prince and I held each other while contemplating our union, a union of the two, now purified. There was no imbalance, as a clear choice guided by the hand of the divine was attained. In this choice of purity and innocence, a summit was reached, as the Prince and I chose a love which made us one. His garments of blue and gold were transformed, as I saw his body cloaked in stunning fabrics of red and gold. It was a transformation of the cold into warmth as it was apparent that he cherished me, and I him. We were both the fire of each other’s heart.

     The message of this dream is clear as it shadows, in a sense, a previous entry. In the end, all returns to the one, as there is no man or woman greater than the source from which, after reduction, is returned to the one. Which Ace have you forgotten to embrace today?

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The Wheel of the Unfortunate Sevens ©

Based on a dream of a friend, in hopes she can discover the place of peace.

     Standing beside an Olympic sized pool, I awaited to watch a swimming competition. I saw a friend far off, approaching the pool as she spoke with another. I smiled and waved waiting for her to return the gesture. She turned her face towards me, and upon seeing me, turned away to ignore me. I steered my attention back towards the pool as I refused to let her coldness of heart destructively affect me. I watched the Olympian athletes gracefully warm up, as they practiced their well measured strokes and breaths. As I stood there, the water called to me, a sound I imagined water sirens were accustomed to. I was soon convinced through this melody, to examine the experience to follow from within the realm of this liquid haven. Obeying the call, I reached for my swim apparel and confidently tip toed to the far edge of the pool. Once there, I asked the closest swimmer if I could take a dip, taking care to not disturb their practice. With a warm welcome, this swimmer, a merman in his own right, directed me to an enclosed area of the pool by which I could partake in the experience. Excitedly, I hurried off to a private corner and changed into my swim gear, a second skin of which I seemed to have forgotten, just how comfortable I was in it.

     Delightedly, I returned to the pool. I felt cool liquid lap against my feet, water that invited play, enticing my toes which hung over the pool’s edge. Bending one leg at a time, my bottom met the tile beneath my feet, and with a gentle push, my body was submerged. Liquid heaven, fluid and cool, I could see mermen gliding past me, demonstrating their exquisite talents. In need of a breath, my arms pushed against the liquid around me and soon my head met the surface of the water. Treading and floating in this place felt second nature, as the mermen who swam circles near me clearly enjoyed my presence. This was a place of peace. Floating quietly as I did, the voice of my friend within earshot, I could hear as she boasted of her swimming abilities. Her voice expanded as details of her abilities grew by the second; a sound so horrid that it disrupted the peace of all who dwelled within the fluid realm. Unlike the water that surrounded us, her soul was unclear and her mind was riddled with the thoughts of lust over personal recognition.
     The waters became silent and soon I found myself folding one leg over the other while maneuvering my fingers into my preferred mudra. I watched the spectacle that unfolded as she signed up to compete against the skillful mermen. I decided to focus on the beat of my heart, a steady percussion, accompanied by the sound of my breath as it entered and left my body. All the while I thought to myself: “What exactly is the difficulty in accepting limitation and what is one getting away with really?”
     A whistle blew and soon the sounds around me were turned up. The mermen disguised as athletes lined up on the opposite side of the pool, filing into their perspective lanes. I saw my friend position herself at the end of one of these lanes. Ill prepared, she competed in her normal clothing. Her turn arrived as she waited for the whistle to blow. When it did, she jumped into the wrong side of the lane before her, failing to take note of the dark net which separated each of the lanes underneath the water’s surface. She had become gravelly entangled and soon, was unable to unravel herself, a skill she had not acquired. Screaming for help as her arms flailed in the water, she was in need of rescue. In disbelief everyone watched as she cried and screamed, as she waited for a nurturing hand to comfort another one of her mistakenly ill measured decisions. This was the story of her life, a chapter that I chose to skim over lightly.
      Her life is a never ending cycle of traumatic events. Confined in the realm of the unfortunate sevens, she refuses to escape the sheltered views of her book; unable to swallow pride and the sense of false courage, the word of her testament. She knows not when to cease speaking to the tune of manipulation, a mode by which her deceptions are shielded. Aiming for expansion, she cares not for those amongst her. This is her signature mark, a trademark attributed to the unfortunate sevens. In despair she cries for truth and clarity, while in a state of elation, she embraces anything but. She resides within the safe haven of her delusions; a battery of self-inflicted wounds. Around and again goes the wheel of her deceit as she rejects to grasp the seven of the tangible, the authentic, of valor. She travels around this wheel fueled by the force of the unfortunate sevens safely within her pocket.


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Deuce’s Wild: The Deviled Deuce ©

Inspired by dreams from a distant and recent past I reflect upon the value of learning to accept both internal and external matters for what they are.

     The idea of avoiding the devil and ensuring he does not cross your path is an endearing one. If you have not had a heart to heart dialogue with the devil, you should not wait any further to do so. When facing the persona of the devil, you face in a sense, yourself. The conversation with the devil may be one sided, something along the lines of: “hello there, come on in and hang out for an eternity” or, it can be completely opposite, to the effect of: “thank you for the offer and chat, but I must really be getting along now.” It is this duality of choice that inspires me to reflect upon the value of tarot deuces, the tarot terrible two’s, or what I like to refer to as the deviled deuces. The fascinating aspect of these deuces is quite simple: either you move along with things or you do not. When the devil comes to town, rest assured, there are serious issues to either identify or own up to.

     To move beyond the devil’s influence we need to identify the deuce we have been ignoring. Insight to the energies behind the deviled deuce may very well arise during any of the devil’s unplanned visits, likely marked by his flair for drama on either the material and spiritual sides of things, or both. Which deuce, to point, has been a crutch? Is it the deuce of indecision, prohibiting you from actively engaging your mind in identifying the choice between choices and the importance of such a choice? Is it the deuce of narrow ambition and foresight which weaves a story of the inability to dig deeper into a proposed plan or situation? Is it the deuce of imbalance that speaks of the incapacity for gracefully weighing one matter against another? Lastly, is it the deuce of muddled emotions which expresses a deficiency in reaching a common ground? If the devil is in the details, then what prohibits us in seeing what we need to see?
     In the end, these are merely words; groups of words, in line, to describe that which, at times, falls out of line. What does fall in line is the sense of finality in a choice. Through choice there is passage, a passage that takes us away from the devil by disarming his influence over the deuces, while our father, the Hierophant, watches in quiet approval.


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Release the Cross and Grasp the Ace of Opportunity ©

 

A reflection inspired by my previous entry: allowing the Ace to ignite the power to overcome and succeed.

     Do not feel embarrassed or apologetic of your natural talents and abilities. From within the house of the Hierophant, our father, you learned to accept the lesson of singing and moving to the tune of the sun. There is the thirst for personal truth and the thirst for recognition. The first is satiated through the personal journey of experiences, where the second is satisfied through the ill manipulation of the first. Avoid altering someone’s truth and experience in order to make it fit yours, as this only denies you the opportunity to engage the power in attainment of your personal truth, resorting to manipulation and deceit, of both others and yourself. Step over the boundary as you release the cross of burden to meet the sun of clarity.

     The sun of clarity is not the sun of popularity and as such, you may discover paths crossing and intersecting where once, they did not. Releasing the cross marks a new beginning. Before returning to meet the new world, our father, the Hierophant asks: are you willing to grasp the Ace before you? Is it the Ace of the power of original thought, or the Ace of divine love and creativity? Is yours the Ace of the power of execution, or the Ace with the power to bring into fruition? Whichever one it is, happily grasp it- you have earned it.

     Dreams and visions can be fueled by imagination. It takes an imagination to be “creative.” Creativity lends itself to projects such as creative writing and painting, abilities necessary for an artist. Though I appreciate art, art does not bring about personal truths, yet personal truths can be very well expressed via “art.” What is formulated from mere imagination and the creative process is generally referred to as fiction. Fiction is largely created with an ending in mind and is generally entertaining. There is no end to seeking your personal truths and the journey is anything but “entertaining.” The journey is cruel, lonesome and at times, the target of misconceptions. However, the experiences gained from such a journey serve to break down the barriers which otherwise constrict the mind, heart and soul from attaining sight of its collective outer limits. I am not a follower of Crowley, nor do I care to be, however, that does not limit me in gaining an appreciation to insights such as: “Love is the law, Love under Will.” What are the limits within the idea of “love” that prohibit you from connecting with the ideas of others today?

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Hierophant and the Tau Cross ©

Inspired by the following dream I wondered, what can we learn from the Hierophant? Perhaps, for a first lesson: how and why we need to release our current cross. What cross do you bear today?

     Standing before the white granite building, facing the thick glass front doors that housed the Hierophant, the young guide beside me reached into her pocket to retrieve a key, one granted solely by the Hierophant. Stepping inside, I could almost feel the cool and impeccably clean white marble floor through the soles of my shoes, a floor that shined like glass floating on water. I saw many Pages bearing crisp, clean, all black uniforms, accented with silver. Not one person was permitted to wear shoes of the outside world to walk the halls contained within. Upon immediate request, we proceeded to a tall desk and were directed to turn in our worldly shoes. Obedience was the law of the land and my guide and I promptly followed suit. In return, we were replenished with proper shoes suitable for walking the Hierophants halls, a sea of white marble glass.
     My young guide, a delightful being with an equally fitting personality, escorted me to the class room where the Hierophant stood, lecturing and reviewing the work of his pupils, the Pages. Alumni migrated about each of the class rooms to assist the Hierophant. Order permeated the house of the Hierophant and formed the very essence of his world. There was a method for walking, speaking, sitting and inquiry. The Hierophant was not a person to philosophize over which manner was correct or incorrect, for he already knew. Failure to heed the Hierophant’s code of ethics was a detriment not to your studies, but to your being, for once you graduated, you were set free, to meet the non-ethical cruel and unsheltered world that knew not of such rules for orderly conduct.
     Greeting me in a militant manner, the Hierophant, clearly the commander in chief; fit the role exquisitely. Obeying his every word, and taking great care not to insult him in any mode, I sat upon the silver chair he assigned for me. There was no one in the class room, aside from the Hierophant and my young guide. She executed a bee line into a predestined corner in the back of this room. The Hierophant, with his neatly pressed black suit, shiny black and silver shoes and neatly styled hair stood before me. I sucked in my breath as he leaned over at his waist to meet my eyes. He raised his right hand and extended his digital finger. He addressed the necessity of revisiting my past, as it held much importance and a lesson towards achieving my goal. Though perplexed by his statement, I dared not ask why. He straightened his body and motioned to my young guide, the content page, to dim the lights.
     In doing so, I felt myself taken through a vortex, landing me in the past. I saw family members, a home and friends. I saw how they occupied rooms within the home and how on a whim, my room was changed from one location to another. I saw myself exhausted, dragging a cross over my shoulders. I felt pain and anguish, yet knew my journey was far from being over. I realized the need to sever ties with those whom have, over time, added to the weight of my burden under the guise of “friendship.” I grasped the truth behind these false alliances. The effort I made to preserve these friendships significantly contributed additional weight to my cross.
     Dragging my cross, pained as I was, I saw myself arrive on a tropical island, a place where I could finally be myself. Those whom burdened me wanted to come to this island so intently, as their tireless efforts to convince me to bring them along did not cease. They watched as I roamed freely in paradise, while those so called friends secretly planned false situations that would “force” me into bringing them along. Witnessing this spectacle, I became angered. I threw the tau shaped cross off my shoulders with a force fueled by the gods as I made my way towards the white brilliant sands of the beach ahead. At last, I was able to smell the ocean, see and feel the sun and its warmth for what it truly was. A hanged man, trapped by a past, I no longer was.












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Death and the Devil: Knights and Pawns ©

Death allows you to live and think for yourself again. However it enters your life, it does so, with a punch straight to the jaw. Inspired by a vision this morning, I take a look at the devil, glimpsing momentarily into the efforts of this energy, and how the energy of willing knights can be effective in achieving a manipulative outcome. Evade opposing knights, and allow the lesson of death to reinforce the need for severing ties in order to move on with our higher calling.

   

  In the vision, I saw myself standing in an auditorium of a university. As I stood, I witnessed one student strike another in the head with a steel rod. In horror, I saw the body of the victim drop to the ground, his blood spilling in rivers as death now proclaimed him. I saw older students directing younger ones into designated rooms. Everyone was prohibited from leaving these rooms as each entrance was guarded by a Knight. Students who were once friends, no longer were. Individual students were singled out for differing ideologies, ideas that did not threaten the initial oath to uphold the standards of the organization.

     One now had to change in order to fit the new infrastructure, a plan masterminded by the devil. He sent his knights, to quickly plant seeds of malicious thoughts, to identify those whom upheld, in their hearts, the spirit of the organization and to guard against escape. As I sought escape from this madness, I managed to evade the knights and ran towards unknown areas of the university. In doing so, I discovered a hidden area, where I was quickly approached by the devil. He greeted me and wasted no time in attempting to recruit me. He contemplated my body and without shame, publicly displayed his physical excitement towards me.

The public display of his physical excitement intrigued me and he knew it. He proceeded to take my hand in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it, while in the distance, I saw others that fell to his intrigue, charms and vanity. He offered me the world, an idea I entertained. After kissing my hand, I softly pulled it back, thanking him for his offer. I turned around and left the devil's lair, saddened by the corruption now thriving in a place that was dear to me. Alone, I walked. While doing so, I met the one who guided me to her father, the Hierophant.

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Black Panther and the Black Rose ©

     11-years ago, on a quiet spring morning in 2001, I woke up determined to get a tattoo of a black rose.  Soon after obtaining my tattoo, I picked up my first tarot deck, without any prior intention of owning or even finding one. I spent a full year alone and isolated.  A black rose, death of the old and rebirth of the new.  I didn't realize how relevant this image would be for me. A black rose to end all imprisonment and gain freedom, a black panther to eternally accompany me.  

     From the black rose I am led to reflect over keys 11-Justice and 13-Death. We all have a unique journey. Yours is not mine, and mine is not yours, but ultimately, we all end up in the same place. 8 and 11-Strength and Justice, 11 and 8-Justice and Strength. Where do you, numerically prefer to place these tarot keys? Perhaps the time has arrived for you to set aside the reference book and let the journey within guide you to your final answer.

~veritas sub rosa

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