I'm currently writing a story about a Queen of Wands—vivacious, attractive, somewhat restless, quick with ideas and plans and "let's do this!" schemes. As one of the court cards of this suit, the Queen of Wands personifies warmth and generosity and magnetic charm. For as Arthur Waite himself pointed out, the wands you see portrayed here are not dead wood—they are always alive and in leaf.
I enjoy writing about these particular queens, probably because I'm such an earthbound Pentacle myself; my series sleuth Tai Randolph, who has been with me for six books so far, is a classic Wands personality. Her sun sign is Aries, Cardinal Fire, which means that it carries the qualities of elemental fire—quickness, passion, wholehearted enthusiasm—in one direction, forward. The Queen of Wands makes things happen. She initiates. Follow-through is not her strong point, but she'll always come out of the gate with a bang.
Some contemporary schools of thought assign Cardinality to the Knights, however, not the Queens, and I'm inclined to agree. Knights are much more tally-ho about things, charging here and there, questing and jousting and generally staying in motion. When I'm reading the cards, Queen are much more interior. They represent states of being. They have thrones, after all, not horses. They don't flit hither and yon.
So what does this means for you and me as creative people this week, to have such royalty grant us an audience? For me, it means that the project I am just beginning will benefit from two key if somewhat paradoxical aspects of this Queen—her ability to make a strong start combined with her ability to be centered in her own power. It's a tricky trick, being still and in movement at the same time. But it's what story requires of us. Sometimes the story leads; sometimes we have to give the reins a sharp pull. Always we have to be in partnership with our own creative process.
This week, if you find yourself fighting the work before you, find a comfy place to sit and arrange yourself there royally. Feel your backbone straighten, your brow uncrease. The wand you wield is a powerful one, as useful as a scepter as it is as a jousting stick. A queen knows how to do both, and when to do each. Be a queen. Sense your next move, the one that will clear the way. You'll know you have it when a little black cat comes and sits at your feet.
(For further information about the astrological associations of tarot, especially the court cards, check out Richard Palmer's explanation the Golden Dawn's elemental tarot associations at The Biddy Tarot, or this essay at Tarot Moon on court card astrology).
Do you believe in the power of intuition? If so, then tarot is a tool that can work for you. Intuitive tarot isn't fortune-telling— it's using the cards as a channel for your own inner wisdom.
Showing posts with label Queen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Queen. Show all posts
Monday, June 12, 2017
Sunday, March 19, 2017
A Reading for the Vernal Equinox
Like full moons and solstices, an equinox exists as a point in a continuum. Though we celebrate it as the day when light and dark are equal, it is actually a
singular moment. Fleeting. Impossible to pin down. As liquid and relentlessly flowing as time itself.
The 2017 vernal equinox will be on Monday, March 20 at 6:28 AM when the sun crosses the celestial equator to enter the sky’s Northern Hemisphere. Known as Ostara, Eostre, or Alban Eilir in the Wheel of the Year, the spring equinox reminds us of the importance of balance. We are letting go of the hibernating, nurturing night and moving into the clean, fresh day.
Like an equinox, a tarot reading is also a moment. A snapshot of a slice of time. Unlike an equinox, however, a tarot reading captures that moment and holds it still. Once the cards are laid out, a tarot reading exists outside of time even as it perfectly preserves it. This allows us to make one singular moment tangible enough to look at and think about and quite literally hold in our hands.
I designed this Vernal Equinox spread in the shape of a flower, with one card as the stem, two cards as leaves, and one card as the blossoming petals. I also added another wild card floating above my flower (like a bee or butterfly) to represent any external energies affecting our reading. This allows us to explore the foundational conditions carried over from the winter, supporting energies, the flower itself, and any other something that might come buzzing up.
And here is what I got.
Well. Things started off solid enough with the Six of Pentacles as the stem. This is often called the karma card, described in the Steampunk Tarot (which you'll see pictured in the spread) as the card of flowing material resources. Flow looks like a very chaotic and random process—and in many ways it as, as one cannot predict where one particular droplet of water will end up when all is said and done—but fluid dynamics calculates the process of flow quite accurately. And that is what karma is, after all—action flowing inexorably into consequence.
(PS: We see this idea continued in our final result, our blooming Wheel of Fortune. But we'll get to that in a second).
Our supporting influences (the leaves) are the Queen of Pentacles and the Two of Cups. This Queen represents someone who provides material comfort and support, so be grateful when she shows up this spring, and say thank you. The Two of Cups classically refers to a romantic attraction, but it can also mean any emotionally exciting partnership, especially in its early stages.
Our final result—our bountiful flower—is the Wheel of Fortune. For while the Six of Pentacles is about cause and effect, the Wheel is about randomness. But if you've ever studied fractal patterns, you know that even in the most seemingly random occurrence, you'll see the spiraling patterns of order. Which is so seductive, after all. To know the rules is to know the order, and to know the order is to predict and protect.
Ah. But then there is the Tower. I had hoped that spring would bring us something like a bee or butterfly, a pollinator of some kind. Alas. We get the unexpected freeze and the hard rain as surprise guests. But not all is lost. The Tower is no friendly card, but the destruction it foretells has always been inevitable. And the clean space it leaves behind is the best ground to till for whatever you want to come next. What will that be? That is up to you.
So creative ones, batten down the hatches and the hatchlings and any other delicate objects—this spring is going to be a wild ride. Projects will live and die and be reborn in astounding ways. You will receive help from unexpected quarters and unforeseen partners. Yes, rough winds may shake the darling buds this month, but destruction and construction are two sides of the same coin. Practice what Keats called the negative capability, the ability to hold two contrary ideas simultaneously and not seek to reconcile them, and you'll be fine.
Is it all just a big dice game? Or is there some inherent meaning under it all? The answer is yes.
Now go out there with the birds and the bees and create something. Will it last? Who knows? Make it as beautiful and true as you can regardless. That's all the Universe asks of us. And enjoy the creating. The birds and the bees surely do.
The 2017 vernal equinox will be on Monday, March 20 at 6:28 AM when the sun crosses the celestial equator to enter the sky’s Northern Hemisphere. Known as Ostara, Eostre, or Alban Eilir in the Wheel of the Year, the spring equinox reminds us of the importance of balance. We are letting go of the hibernating, nurturing night and moving into the clean, fresh day.
Like an equinox, a tarot reading is also a moment. A snapshot of a slice of time. Unlike an equinox, however, a tarot reading captures that moment and holds it still. Once the cards are laid out, a tarot reading exists outside of time even as it perfectly preserves it. This allows us to make one singular moment tangible enough to look at and think about and quite literally hold in our hands.
I designed this Vernal Equinox spread in the shape of a flower, with one card as the stem, two cards as leaves, and one card as the blossoming petals. I also added another wild card floating above my flower (like a bee or butterfly) to represent any external energies affecting our reading. This allows us to explore the foundational conditions carried over from the winter, supporting energies, the flower itself, and any other something that might come buzzing up.
And here is what I got.
Well. Things started off solid enough with the Six of Pentacles as the stem. This is often called the karma card, described in the Steampunk Tarot (which you'll see pictured in the spread) as the card of flowing material resources. Flow looks like a very chaotic and random process—and in many ways it as, as one cannot predict where one particular droplet of water will end up when all is said and done—but fluid dynamics calculates the process of flow quite accurately. And that is what karma is, after all—action flowing inexorably into consequence.
(PS: We see this idea continued in our final result, our blooming Wheel of Fortune. But we'll get to that in a second).
Our supporting influences (the leaves) are the Queen of Pentacles and the Two of Cups. This Queen represents someone who provides material comfort and support, so be grateful when she shows up this spring, and say thank you. The Two of Cups classically refers to a romantic attraction, but it can also mean any emotionally exciting partnership, especially in its early stages.
Our final result—our bountiful flower—is the Wheel of Fortune. For while the Six of Pentacles is about cause and effect, the Wheel is about randomness. But if you've ever studied fractal patterns, you know that even in the most seemingly random occurrence, you'll see the spiraling patterns of order. Which is so seductive, after all. To know the rules is to know the order, and to know the order is to predict and protect.
Ah. But then there is the Tower. I had hoped that spring would bring us something like a bee or butterfly, a pollinator of some kind. Alas. We get the unexpected freeze and the hard rain as surprise guests. But not all is lost. The Tower is no friendly card, but the destruction it foretells has always been inevitable. And the clean space it leaves behind is the best ground to till for whatever you want to come next. What will that be? That is up to you.
So creative ones, batten down the hatches and the hatchlings and any other delicate objects—this spring is going to be a wild ride. Projects will live and die and be reborn in astounding ways. You will receive help from unexpected quarters and unforeseen partners. Yes, rough winds may shake the darling buds this month, but destruction and construction are two sides of the same coin. Practice what Keats called the negative capability, the ability to hold two contrary ideas simultaneously and not seek to reconcile them, and you'll be fine.
Is it all just a big dice game? Or is there some inherent meaning under it all? The answer is yes.
Now go out there with the birds and the bees and create something. Will it last? Who knows? Make it as beautiful and true as you can regardless. That's all the Universe asks of us. And enjoy the creating. The birds and the bees surely do.
Sunday, January 15, 2017
This Week's Writerly Tarot: The Queen of Pentacles
Last week an Emperor, and this week, the Queen of Pentacles. We are in royal company.
This Queen did not come alone, however. This week I pulled three cards from the deck (who knows why, only that I felt the need to do so—learning to heed that subtle prompt is the art of tarot). This Queen came escorted by the Five of Pentacles on her left and the Five of Cups on her right.
This is decidedly unpleasant company. I was reminded of the scene in Dickens' A Christmas Carol where the Ghost of Christmas Present opens his robes to reveal the two wretched children, Ignorance and Want. Only here we have Misery and Grief. What, then, are we to make of the woman between them?
Quite a bit, because she is the key to understanding the forces at work this week, and in doing so, ameliorate them. When I see a Queen of any suit, I remind myself that I am in the presence of a sovereign, a person complete unto herself who is able to be and act from that completeness. Queens lead not by subjugation or intimidation but through example. They are icons. Touchstones. Avatars. They channel their energy for you to embody, and as such, are the interiors to the more masculine King cards' exteriors. They are the beating hearts of the tarot.
This Queen rules the suit of Pentacles, the suit of material concerns and physical foundations. What is she asking of you this week in your creative life? Don't transcend, she says. You are not above any of this. Instead, transform. Feel it all, even the painful unpleasant parts, and claim their power. Take care of yourself in this endeavor. Root yourself in that which nourishes and let that which does not serve return to source to be transmuted.
I cannot help thinking of another famous female royal, a princess and a general, and the woman who breathed life into her on the movie screen. What to do this week? Do what Carrie Fisher said to do: Take your broken heart, and make it into art.
This Queen did not come alone, however. This week I pulled three cards from the deck (who knows why, only that I felt the need to do so—learning to heed that subtle prompt is the art of tarot). This Queen came escorted by the Five of Pentacles on her left and the Five of Cups on her right.
This is decidedly unpleasant company. I was reminded of the scene in Dickens' A Christmas Carol where the Ghost of Christmas Present opens his robes to reveal the two wretched children, Ignorance and Want. Only here we have Misery and Grief. What, then, are we to make of the woman between them?
Quite a bit, because she is the key to understanding the forces at work this week, and in doing so, ameliorate them. When I see a Queen of any suit, I remind myself that I am in the presence of a sovereign, a person complete unto herself who is able to be and act from that completeness. Queens lead not by subjugation or intimidation but through example. They are icons. Touchstones. Avatars. They channel their energy for you to embody, and as such, are the interiors to the more masculine King cards' exteriors. They are the beating hearts of the tarot.
This Queen rules the suit of Pentacles, the suit of material concerns and physical foundations. What is she asking of you this week in your creative life? Don't transcend, she says. You are not above any of this. Instead, transform. Feel it all, even the painful unpleasant parts, and claim their power. Take care of yourself in this endeavor. Root yourself in that which nourishes and let that which does not serve return to source to be transmuted.
I cannot help thinking of another famous female royal, a princess and a general, and the woman who breathed life into her on the movie screen. What to do this week? Do what Carrie Fisher said to do: Take your broken heart, and make it into art.
Sunday, January 24, 2016
This Week's Writerly Tarot: The Queen of Swords
Straighten those shoulders — you're in the company of a queen. And as the emissary of the suit of rationality and logic — all that is spare and clean and straight — this queen will appreciate your good posture most especially.
Court cards are often tricky to interpret. They can be symbolic of the attributes of their respective suits. They can be personifications, either of the querent (the person asking questions of the tarot) or people in the querent's life. Or they can operate as representations of states of being.
The latter is my favorite way of looking at court cards. This method reveals energies swirling and present — some represented by the people around us, some attributes we could take on ourselves if we wish. According to this approach, queens are the experts of being. They rule by one decree — they are what they are, and they don't need to do a thing to prove it. Especially not this queen, who rules the realm of thought.
This week, the Queen of Swords wants to remind you who you are. You are, after all, exactly who you think you are. And she would like you to remember that you are a creature of both mind and brain, that your intellect serves you and not vice versa. You'll figure it out, she would tell you, it's not that hard.
You are who you think you are.
So...who are you going to be?
Court cards are often tricky to interpret. They can be symbolic of the attributes of their respective suits. They can be personifications, either of the querent (the person asking questions of the tarot) or people in the querent's life. Or they can operate as representations of states of being.
The latter is my favorite way of looking at court cards. This method reveals energies swirling and present — some represented by the people around us, some attributes we could take on ourselves if we wish. According to this approach, queens are the experts of being. They rule by one decree — they are what they are, and they don't need to do a thing to prove it. Especially not this queen, who rules the realm of thought.
This week, the Queen of Swords wants to remind you who you are. You are, after all, exactly who you think you are. And she would like you to remember that you are a creature of both mind and brain, that your intellect serves you and not vice versa. You'll figure it out, she would tell you, it's not that hard.
You are who you think you are.
So...who are you going to be?
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