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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Faded Colors of the World ©

Based on a vision I had the night of 19 October 2012 of the man who knew not when to distinguish when enough was enough.
     There he was and there I was, he looked over my way, but could not see me. The dampness and darkness of this place was all too familiar and highly impersonal. I, a floating mist watched, as he began to convince a man and woman, an older couple, about his world card. Yes, you read that correctly. His- world card! In a “what in Sam hill” moment of thinking, I saw the scene unfold quickly before my eyes and had I blinked, I would have missed the most important highlights of the conversation which took place amongst the three adults. There stood, the man whom many esteemed and looked up to, holding in his left hand, an oversized world tarot card. He approached the small car where the married couple sat, anxious to drive away from the empty and dark public parking garage. Mr. World card motioned for the man in the drivers’ seat to let the window down so he may speak briefly with him. The driver, a man in his late 50’s, let out a quiet sigh while his wife chirped like a small bird with utter excitement as she fished through her giant purse for her humble tarot deck. As soon as the window was lowered, Mr. World card leaned down towards the car window and began to speak of his new world card and the reason why he chose to design it in the manner that he did. The gentleman in the driver’s seat said not one word and maintained a kind yet forced smile on his face. His hands never left the circumference of the card wheel, as if at the ready to make a quick departure. His parting was delayed by his wife who went on and on with her unending enthusiasm over Mr. World cards’ chatter.
     Mr. World card, noticing the husband shifting in his seat with discomfort, ensured he explained the immense size of his tarot deck and how at times, he would rather not use it, but (since he was so committed to it-a fact he did not disclose) commenced his dissertation over why he chose the current design. His world card contained a light blue border, with words in white lettering describing the name of the card along with key words. The woman’s husband had enough of this conversation and Mr. World card knew it. He decided to shift his attention to the wife, the woman who held her smaller deck tightly and over anxiously. Mr. World card confessed he preferred a smaller size deck. Eagerly, the woman began thumbing through her deck for the world card, a task that was taking entirely too much time due to her nerves and oversight. She settled on listening to Mr. World card and set the deck down so as not to miss a word of Mr. World card’s mini-tarot lesson.
     In the midst I floated, both amused and alarmed. I felt like I was peering through a peep hole, secretly chiming in as I watched my neighbor feed into a door sales pitch. At the moment, the term salesman lingered for a while in my mind. There was nothing immoral with a salesperson, but one who was not intuitively understanding of the limits of his/her sales pitch concerned me. I felt my arms move to a fixed position across my chest. How much longer did I have to watch this? I so wanted to leave and at that thought, my body form, a mist, was transported to the back seat of this couples’ vehicle. “How much longer did I have to listen to this?” I thought, as I sat in the back seat, dumbfounded by this up close encounter of this spectacle. I felt myself cringe; however, my eyes widened as I could see the colors along the edges of Mr. World cards’ world card fade!
     The colors began to wash off and fade to the point that I could no longer get a clear view of this man’s world card nor no longer understand his intent for this card. It was, without a doubt, the saddest thing I have ever witnessed about a world card. Colors continued to fade, though the woman was somehow made unaware through some sort of trickery, what was happening. Even Mr. World card pointed out how his card was not as vibrant as he would like it to be and still, with this cue, the woman was unable to pick up on this important fact. He even mentioned how his world card design was unable to depict a full, coherent story. I could not take any more of this conversation and willed myself out of the tiny car. In doing so, I successfully returned to the place where I originally watched this scene. With a quick goodbye from the woman’s husband, the couple immediately drove away. Mr. World card was left, standing there in the darkened and empty parking garage. I did not know how to feel about him. Something told me he would not admit that the more he stretched his world out, the more diluted it would become. With this last thought, the scene faded and soon, my eyes were opened.


     When will you begin to perceive the vibrant colors of the world and when something or someone dilutes it? Do not let anyone or anything erase your potential for the world.

©2013
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Day Planetary Tarot Spread

     The following are instructions (and guidelines) for performing the daily planetary influence of the day tarot spread. Planetary spreads are nothing new, the most popular being the 7-card spread which many of us enjoy using. What is different about this spread? For starters, it focuses on the planetary influence of the current day. You can potentially perform this for the full 7-days. Not only can you perform this reading utilizing some basic astrological knowledge of the planets, but you may also incorporate and/or call upon the deities which fall under a particular planet.
     A good example of this is depicted in the YouTube video I posted this morning (Tuesday, June 18, 2013). I spent some time meditating and focusing my mind on what it was that Mars (Roman aspect of Greek Aries) would say if he were present at the divining table. What was his twist on today's reading? Check out my YouTube channel and see for yourself. However, if you prefer not to go this route, all is well because it will be an effective reading by simply keeping to the planetary influence of the day as is. With that all said here is a list of the days of the week along with their associated planets and colors. FYI: If you are searching for more in depth planetary correspondences, there is a plethora of decent information available online, for free. For anyone new to any of this, do your homework, there is also plenty of misguiding info out there. Okay, now for the list:
Monday: Moon –white                                                                                
Tuesday: Mars – red                                                                                      
Wednesday: Mercury - purple/multi-colors                                                                         
Thursday: Jupiter- Blue                                                                                                
Friday: Venus – Green                                                                                                 
Saturday: Saturn –black                                                                                                                               
Sunday: Sun- yellow (or gold)
Preliminary Step (not required, yet helpful):     
Take the effort to read up/study/glance at the planetary activities of the day. Is the planet of the day retrograde? For all you astrology buffs, you will love this preparatory step.
Instructions:                                                                                                                                        
1. Divide tarot deck into 5-piles, 1-for each distinct suit and the 5th for the major arcana, total of 5-piles.               

2. Beginning from left to right place pile of major arcana on the left followed by the next four suits. What order should the piles go? Pentacles, Cups, Swords, Wands, it does not matter. All that matters is that you are comfortable with the order it is in. (You may place piles right to left, or whatever does it for you is fine).

3. Shuffle each individual pile.  
4. Turn/flip over the top card of the minor arcana piles, leaving the major arcana pile untouched.
5. Conduct your reading, focusing the entire time how the planet of the day changes/affects each individual card.
6. After reading the 4-minor arcana cards, turn/flip over the top card of the major arcana pile.
7. Analyze how the major arcana affect the individual cards as well as the overall reading.              
8. Take note of how the planetary influence of the day affects the "advice/perspective" of the major arcana card over the overall reading. Does it distort/enhance it in any way? How?
9. Take note of any cards (both major & minor) which coincide with the planetary aspects/influences of the day. Is there is specific deity that comes to mind before, during or after the reading? For example, on Tuesdays I think of the Roman God Mars himself and I ask myself, what would Mars say if he were sitting across my table, reading the cards to me?
Instructions for performing multiple days at a time:
1. If you want to read for the following day, place all turned over cards back into their perspective piles. 
2. Reshuffle each pile in the same manner you did the first time.  
3. Turn/flip cards over & conduct your reading.
4. Upon finishing, return all cards to their perspective piles.                                                           
5. Continue reading for following days not to exceed the days in a week, i.e., 7-days.
     This particular spread is empowering when asking about a specific activity/issue to be tackled during a specified day while under the influence of the current planet. I advise to conduct the reading within the 7-day time frame. I am sure others will think otherwise and that is perfectly acceptable. In the end, do what feels best. I hope you enjoyed these instructions and that they were not too confusing or ambiguous. If so, forgiveness is a wonderful virtue. :-) If you would like to see some videos employing this method, you may visit (and subscribe!) to my YouTube channel at: http://www.youtube.com/subscription_center?add_user=ALDTarot

Blessings always,                                                                                                                                                               

Love,                                                                                                                                                                                    

Ana



©2013
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The Queen as Headmaster ©

The following is a dream I had on Monday, December 17, 2012.
    
   I dreamed I attended a university and was uncertain, at the moment, of the courses for which I was enrolled. An immense feeling of failing out of the university overcame me. During this period of pressure, I recovered the memory of already holding a degree from this institution. Calmness swept over me and finally, I understood there was no viable reason for me to continue worrying about my future. It was at this twinkling of precise rationale when my eye caught a group of people, all girls, lined up in an exacting order to initiate some sort of refinement training by instructors assigned by her majesty. The queen! My God, where is the queen?
     The new young recruits appeared anxious and timid. As I surveyed their innocent faces, I thought back to the time when I too, felt lost and scared, not knowing whether or not I would make it through my first year. I could relate to their experience and feelings. Internally, I smiled. Feelings of fear of self, self-doubt and uncertainty of what the future held were now archived thoughts, mere reminiscences that I cherished, for without them I would not have appreciated my journey’s progression. I was now a young woman, well graduated and fully integrated into my second year advanced training.
     Joining my group of peers, we quietly formed our ranks, perfectly measured lines, lines fitting to properly receive the queen and await her day’s lessons. These teachings were often delivered with a cold disposition, as we were no longer timid and naïve recruits. Though the queen expected much from us, we expected even more from ourselves. This was the way it was intended to be, a necessary mechanism, built in place for generations to come. Her majesty made her way through the ranks, drilling each and every one of us with her precise questioning, demanding equally exacting answers. There was no leeway; queens did not enjoy such a luxury.
     Somehow, I had caught her eye and soon, she had managed to weave herself through the lines of other young women such as myself, like a needle seeking its point into fabric, headed in a direct course towards me. The chill in the wind and the silence was unendurable. She had been monitoring my advancement without my noticing, as this was a skill the queen possessed by second nature. The queen’s court jester walked in and came to her side by a simple movement of her hand, the unspoken command. As she stationed herself before me, I reached for the edges of my garments which were burgundy, gold and black. Holding them as I have been trained to do so for years, I greeted her. She penetrated the sound barrier of silence by making a statement commending my well-earned advancement. In a moment, I was to join her. With a noble nod of the head, I followed her. She sat and gestured for me to take a seat. She watched me with an eagle’s eye as I did so. She expressed her content in seeing a budding queen who knew how to speak, walk and sit in a manner becoming of a queen. I thanked her highness and watched as she received news of an arrival, someone who would soon join us.
     A slightly older man than me walked in to join us. When he saw me he took my hand, an act pre-calculated and pre-approved ahead of time by the queen herself. She knew all along of this moment, and I knew that in her presence I rightly required more training. The man who arrived in the court was not any ordinary man, he was a Knight. Through prior authorization, he hugged and kissed me gently. This was the queen’s Knight, the one who a long time ago, suffered injury to save my life, the life of his queen. It was at that moment that a transformation took place and soon my memories returned- rushing back into my mind, for that queen was I. Two Queens sat and spoke of the things to come for the new recruits. My queen, her age visually prominent, a queen of a legacy’s past, expressed her concerns over the indolent outlooks of this year’s new recruits. I, the queen, a legacy of this present moment, carefully listened to the guiding voice of wisdom and reason.
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The Dream of the Blasted Tower ©

The following is a dream I experienced last year on August 11th, 2012. After conducting my daily reading earlier this morning, the theme of removing oneself from the "status quo" came to mind. Without any further ado, here is my journal entry:

     The "tower" card was used by a selfish man as a blueprint for building a structure of his own. In the beginning, the structure was a mere one level dwelling, a place so humble that anyone looking upon it from the outside world would mistake it as a cave. The man continued to build and improve the structure, thereby changing the outside appearance of his dwelling. He built without pausing to rest until his structure achieved the height of 16-levels (floors). The boisterous and self-absorbed man laughed madly at his material creation and became overconfident in the idea of reaching the heavens.
     At this point, I watched as a flash of lightening descended from the heavens, producing a wall of fire behind the man. There was no escape and the heat of the flames singed his eyebrows. It was a matter of time where the horrid scene of his body consumed by fire dominated that which I observed. There was nothing I or anyone else could do to save him. As he burned, I heard a loud cry that from the sky. As the cry ceased, I observed souls falling from the heavens onto the earth. I was startled yet intrigued because the expressions on each of these souls faces were not fear. On the contrary, they were joyful. I heard as they proclaimed in unison to the world below the following phrase: "get ready to receive us, get ready to catch us."
     After hearing this phrase I realized that I too was one of the souls quickly descending. This was a complete skydive, but a parachute on my back I did not possess. Though my mind crept into "life threatening mode," I did not want to keep my eyes off the ground. Within moments I would meet this hardened earth and soon my "life" would end. I anticipated the moment of pain when this would happen and there was no escaping it. I had to accept my fall with joy, like the ones who fell alongside me.
     I saw a tree directly below me and knew this would be the end. Right before crashing onto the evergreen tree, I remembered that I possessed the ability to fly. How could this important ability escape me? Was I trapped inside this tower for so long that I had forgotten such a skill? Whatever the reason, I came into my moment of joy as I turned over on my side to maneuver around the tree, gliding inches off the grass. Freedom was indeed something to feel joyous about. After gliding for some time, I slowed down landing softly on my feet. I took survey of the world around me. My wings were no longer restrained.


What or who is restraining you? The time to release oneself from the confines of the status quo has arrived. Forget the false promises of others and rely on your own initiative to achieve the joy of freedom, the joys of your own initiatives.


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A Reflection of the World tarot card on this Earth day ©

This is a short journal entry in support of a greener tomorrow through the eyes of Key 21.

     As I pulled the world card earlier this morning, I had a think about all this mention of earth day and what it is that most of do to support it. There is the usual act of tree planting and throughout the course of the day; we are reminded of recycling and repurposing. However, what else can we do to help heal our planet?

     Looking over the world card, I would say, just as we are born and sustained by the elements which provide our sources for nutritional support, so do we, have the obligation to return the favor to those elements. Perhaps on this earth day of the year 2013, we can seek to key 21 to gain a greater respect for our planet, via a unified effort to heal and sustain it as it has sustained us. Forget political, social and economic divisions. As an alternative, acknowledge the rate at which our planet is incessantly harmed by damaging chemicals, consistently poisoned rather than healed. The world card brings into the forefront of my mind greener/clean energy sources and the disarmament of weapons of mass destruction.
     On this earth day, let’s consider how our actions and inactions affect our planet. Let’s work towards the progression of human, animal and plant life via the sustainment of our planets health. Look to the elements which were there before any of us, elements which exist within all of us. Let’s discontinue harming the elements so they may continue to provide for us.

Ask yourself: what can I do to support a healthier earth today?

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The Devil: Death to Our Souls ©

Darkness strives to torture and limit our vision, stripping away the light of our soul.

     If there is anything I can state openly, about the dream I experienced today, April 12^th, 2013 at 5 am, is that we need to become aware of the darkness which lurks to destroy the peace in this world. The following is disturbing and intended for a mature audience. If you proceed in reading, you are contending to be of mature (legal) age.  Depart from the book knowledge (just this once) and look into yourself for the understanding already contained within your spirit. Reconnect to the collective subconscious. Respect each other and actively advocate for world peace and an end to violence.

The Nightmare:
     I saw a couple, a man and a woman, who were chatting inside their small bathroom. They had decided, to shower together in order to speed up their routine, as they spoke of an engagement they were to attend early that evening. While in the shower, they heard the bathroom door open. The woman pulled the shower curtain aside and peered out to see who it was. She saw a man standing in their bathroom. He was tall, olive toned with short, straight black hair. A bandage was wrapped around his right, perhaps of some sort of laceration. With dark eyes, the man stared at her, startling the woman. Calmly, the stranger closed the narrow bathroom door and sat down on the toilet which faced it. The couple shut the shower off and pulled the curtain aside completely. Alarmed and frightened, they held each other as they crouched down in the bath tub. The stranger reached for a bat which he brought in to the bathroom, along with other items. He swung the bat, hitting the woman’s husband on the head, rendering him unconscious. The woman held her husband’s head while crying and screaming loudly, as she shook him in an attempt to reawaken him. The perpetrator swung the bat close to the woman in an attempt to further scare her.
     Sitting back down and never once speaking a word, he continued staring at her. She looked to the door and saw it was unlocked, yet the small bathroom did not allow for her to make a sprint towards it. He noticed her eyes shifting behind her brown glasses, towards the door knob. Smirking, he reached for the knob and pushed the brass colored button in, engaging the lock. Somehow, I could hear her thoughts for escape. I could feel her hopelessness. This stranger would be the last person she would see. Her husband began to move and groan. Reaching for him, she shook him. Now awake, he saw the man sitting on the toilet and remembered the strike to his head. Though he was awake, his body remained sluggish and limp.
     The couple embraced each other, not knowing the purpose for this stranger’s act of violence. What did he want? Why was he here? The man reached for a small container. Holding it in his right hand, he tossed its’ contents directly at the woman’s face. She felt a burning sensation and her husband’s screams drowned out her thoughts. Within seconds, the vision in her right eye was lost. This was some sort of acid and soon, the mad man reached for another container to repeat the process. Now blind in both eyes and barely breathing, her hands found the wall on the right. While her hands pounded against it, the mad man grabbed her, pulling her out of the bath tub. Her husband was threatened with the same fate if he dared move. He reached for a small clear bottle with a twist off dropper. The liquid inside the small bottle was an anesthetic which he emptied into the woman’s mouth by a dropper full. She refused to swallow at first, but had no other choice but to do so, for the fear she had of her husband suffering the same fate. Her body became numb. This was the end.

Ceres, the High Priestess & the Rite of the Pomegranate ©

You called to me, I listened.

     Standing in a large hall watching the Roman goddess Ceres I could hear instructing others in how to tend the countless halls where marital unions took place. There were ceremonies faced with ill planned itineraries; others by awkwardly matched couples, while in other instances, unions appeared well matched. In all of these cases, Ceres did not pass judgment, for her job was to ensure there were plenty resources available for the celebrations to follow. The goddess tasked me with cleaning her house and informed me of our forthcoming move. Unsure about this passage of “ours,” I carried out all duties despite feeling that only I would be the one moving. Her eyes were attentive to my tasks though there was much for her to administer. Was she my mother? If she was, I felt our connection to be distant. Why did I feel this way? Regardless of this feeling, I continued the errands which were endlessly abundant.

     As I worked, situations arose and were brought to my attention, frequently interrupting and prolonging the ability to absolve my own chores. Lined up on a narrow table before of me were swords that were each distinctly decorated and of innumerable lengths. Sitting aside each other in a long line, I soon understood how each situation required a specific blade, requiring meticulous selection by my hand, to resolve mishaps associated with the festivities. After spending extended periods of time in sword selection, I decided to rise and give myself a break. Looking down at my body I saw I wore a brown linen skirt and sandals. My body and mind begged for time away from my arduous tasks. Walking out of the house of Ceres, I was met by others similarly dressed. In an instance, I was greeted and invited to engage in a delightful pastime of warrior games. Playfully, others ran around me. Delighted by their disposition, I joined the game. I heard the roar of other kin who cheered us on. A heavy rainfall commenced without warning, though the sky had been overcast for part of the day. Our feet pounded the ground as leather sandals mixed water and soil, covering our legs from the knees down in mud. In this manner we continued our games of chase and attack.
     Hesitantly, I bade farewell to my companions acknowledging the importance of my return to the house of the goddess for whom I needed to carry out my final tasks of the day. Upon completion, I bathed only to find my clothing replaced with flowing garments of white linen. Looking around, I was unable to see or hear anyone who may have entered my quarters. Nevertheless, I slipped into my gown. In doing so, the sun peered through a large break in the clouds. Looking down into my clean hands, a cluster of pomegranate seeds appeared. They glistened in the early evening sun like freshly polished rubies. I noticed these seeds appeared when I thought of something in particular or felt a certain way. This idea drew me deeply into a state of contemplation. These seeds were a key. Ceres watched me from a short distance and smiled at me with joy of my personal realization. She was not my mother, yet in her house I resided for this period of time. My mind was clear, my hands were clean and my clothes were fresh and new. The goddess wished me well on my trip, blessing the seeds with her essence of abundance and prosperity. Plenty would always be provided.
     Lastly, the Priestess who accompanied Ceres said: these are the seeds which you have earned through labor and humility. Your brethren have worked in the same manner as you, awaiting passage into the other worlds. This is eternity. This is power. This is the grace of the gods shinning down on those who’ve labored to gain entry. Your work was never in vain, though at times, you felt it so. You now begin anew. Unique challenges lie ahead; take up the appropriate sword for its' warranted action. Remember the law. The king smiles upon you. You are accompanied by eternal brethren. Cross the worlds. Exercise prudence. This is the contract. The goddess and Priestess fade away, signaling the end of the rite of the pomegranate. Instantly, I “awoke.”


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An Illusion of the Seven of Cups, Part 2©

Better to be simple and under control than the object of someone else’s sideshow.

     A man of which I was unable to take my eyes off placed me upon a stool. Unattractive as he was, he was quite familiar with fame. Acclaimed for his talents, particularly his singing and guitar playing abilities, I wondered why he situated me on this stool in the manner he did. He was on tour and asked me to be a part of his show, a venue which sold out weeks earlier. I inquired about his request for my participation, as I did not possess talents for singing or playing an instrument. Confused by his fervor for my involvement, he reassured me to stop worrying as he waved his hand in the air towards himself, a gestural order for the staff to immediately approach and take me away to a predestinated dressing room. Soon I would find myself covered in hands of those who placed their makeup and styling skills into high gear while dressing me to play the part the musician had in mind. The staff emphasized how much the musician needed my assistance on stage, careful to avoid disclosing the true nature behind his request. I remembered the mention of “how my talents were discovered from afar some time ago.” They took equal care not to divulge the talents referred to in particular.
     Now ready, the staff guided me beside the staircase near the back stage. From this position, I would await the cue to make my entrance. Surveying my black outfit, I saw a green and yellow bow tied around my neck. Angered by the sly manner this bow was placed around my neck moments before stepping onto the stage I ripped it off and loosened the uppermost buttons of my shirt. Looking further down at my body, I was outraged by the uncomfortable short black skirt that I certainly did not deem appropriate for an audience. I pulled the skirt down the furthest it would go, but, at that precise moment, I heard my cue. Quick to regroup my efforts, I took care to ascend each of the steps leading to the front stage. The short skirt made matters difficult during my ascent, but with care and grace I reached the summit and stepped onto the shiny onyx black stage where soon the musician would flamboyantly motion me forward, as he yearned to bedazzle the crowd with his antics.
     Upon reaching his position on stage, he picked me up, demonstrating to the audience how easily he cradled me in his arms, as if I were an infant oblivious to the world around me. Showing me off at stage left, followed by stage right, it was apparent the makeup along the musician’s jawline was beginning to smudge too early in the show and soon would be noticeable to others. He headed to the tall stool at center stage and placed me upon it, forcing me to sit in an awkward position. The stool felt unstable and any quick or uncalculated movement would have me losing my balance, thereby falling off of it. Besides balance, I took excessive caution to keep the short skirt under control, and overall, found myself displeased at the provocative manner my legs were displayed. Sitting down on his wide and stable stool next to mine, he motioned for his guitar. His guitar needed piecing together before the audience, as this was a part of his stage act. A staff member handed it me the pieces which I passed along to him. I needed to remain nimble for the reason I was placed on such an uncomfortable stool and forced to wear such an intolerable outfit became clear. I was the side show that would make everyone laugh, the one who would divert attention away from the musician. After the guitar was pieced together, I motioned for him to commence playing while holding a microphone in my left hand that he used for singing. Without any warning, the guitar fell apart in his hands as he failed to apply gentle pressure to the instrument. Without notice, the musician could not muster the ability to sing. All the while, I watched, while holding the microphone in disbelief. Storming off the stage, the musician hid from the public out of personal embarrassment, and I was left alone, before the world, with microphone in hand. Things could not be any more ironic than this.
     I saw many friends who came to see me at the show. They felt bad the venue was cancelled due to the musician’s disappearance. When I effortlessly dismounted the unstable stool, the audience applauded, shouting phrases of approval at me. I smiled and waved at both the audience and friends who were present to support me. I uttered a brief thank you into the microphone and placed it on top of the musician’s stool. Everyone continued to clap as I exited the stage. Friends lined up along the aisle beside the staircase to greet me. They were apologetic as my chance to shine was stripped away from me. I smiled and told them not to worry, as evidently, I excelled the moment I held my ground with poise. My cheeks were warm and blushed in a soft hue of peach-pink as the audience continued their heartfelt display of encouragement. I walked away from the lip service of the musician, feeling fantastic like never before. By resigning the position of the side show act, I was empowered. The musician promised me the world but delivered an illusion, an illusion he could not maintain.

In seeing the seven of Cups, will you remain an illusion in the world of another? Is someone paying lip service via an illusion of promise? Our father, the Hierophant asks: can you break the illusion you have been cleverly placed under?

The Vision: The right hand of a person “plays” with constant rearrangement of articles around a pentacle on an altar. The individual’s hand is tied with a black ribbon/cord, as elements are moved about in an indecisive manner regarding final placement.

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