Future Fool- For Mabon Tarot Blog Hop

I believe that the most ancient myths are often concealed as fairy tales. I would like to create a story/myth for the distant future- as a sign of hope, and of continuance- to plant a seed that will take root in hearts and minds, and open a way into that place for us.

Once there was a Youth who knew she was a Hero, even though everyone else thought she was a Fool. She tied up her hair, packed a small bag- which she tied to her walking stick- clapped a cap on her head, and called her dog to come with her. She brought with her apples and cheese, a bottle to fill with water from a nearby stream, and her gleaming silver penny-whistle.

It was a beautiful, sunlit dawn, and they began their journey with hearts as light as a summer morning. They traveled through a forest with tall whispering trees, and the sun shot lances of brilliance through the branches, pinging off every dew drop, and making sparkles in the mist of the stream that traveled alongside them.

In the distance they could hear it singing as it plunged over rocks- in a thousand bright high voices, and one great thunderous deep one.
When they came out of the trees, they saw that indeed, the stream did plunge over mossy rocks into a vast green valley far below, to join with a mighty river that traveled through banks laden with iris and sweet flag.
They came to the edge and peered down at the waterfall. The sun made rainbows in the mist, as the water sang about colors and dancing and the spring snows that fed it in the lands beyond the forest. They could see a stony path that led down the the side of the cliff- with cairns of curious rocks piled at switchbacks among the ferns.
The mouth of a cave yawned at them- beckoning- but to reach it, they would have to climb down to the path, and go under the waterfall, where it leaped over ledges and plummeted down the craggy cliff.
Inspired by the view and the sunshine, she sat down, pulled out her whistle, and played a cheery little tune that came to her- just like THAT! She played about the walk through tall trees, her companion who capered beside her, and the stream that showed her the way. She played about the sunshine on dew drops, and unseen stars from the night before. She played about her hopes and dreams, and the magnificent vista before her. She played about the rainbows dancing in the torrent, and the voices in the waters sang along with her. Echoes in the valley below urged birds to rise up and join in, and the sky wheeled with joyous flight, as the music rose and then died away. It was time to go. She put her flute away, and took off her shoes so that her toes could grip the path more firmly. She tied them to her knapsack so that they bounced cheerfully alongside, and began to pick her way down the path. When she came to the first switchback, she thoughtfully added a pebble to the cairn, and admired a jeweled spiderweb draped among the branches of a nearby shrub. Her little dog bounded down the path exuberantly, and despite her calls, did not return. She shrugged her shoulders, and proceeded, refusing to worry. Unopened flowers hid their faces among the gleaming threads- but all their heads were turned to face the place where the sun would soon peek over the cliff and awaken them into opening. A tiny black spider blinked it’s shining eyes at her, and she respectfully said “Good Morning!” and continued on her way. As she turned toward the next loop on the slope ahead, a small brown hummock of grass suddenly stood up, revealing itself to be a man in a shaggy cloak. He shook long brown hair out of a broad-brimmed, mossy hat, and in a moment transformed from an old shabby scarecrow into a young and merry fellow, who winked at her impudently from under brows as curved as the wings of the birds that still surged up from the hollows below. She could not help but notice the band of silver around his forehead, or the fact that his grassy cloak was lined with velvet. His bright blue eyes were startling in his dark face, yet offered no threat. He held out his hand in greeting, bowed slightly, and offered her what appeared to be a stick of polished wood, with a tiny knob on the end. When she took it, she saw that it was carved with many signs, and the end bore an acorn of a coppery hue. She looked up from the pretty item in her hand- and he winked at her once again, made another small bow, and said the only words she would ever hear him say- “May all your wishes come true!” and in that one, limitless moment, faded away before her- from the outer edges inward, leaving only the impression of his laughing wing-browed eyes before vanishing altogether- but the wand remained solidly in her hand.
In thanks, she drew her flute out of her pack, and played a tune full of soaring loops and spirals that echoed the gyres of the birds’ dancing- and as the last reverberations died away, she turned toward the waterfall and the cavern once more, and walked on.
When she came close to the place under the ledge, she paused, trying to see into the yawning darkness under the falling waters. A moment passed, and she was startled to see a graceful white hand extend itself from the darkness, and beckon her foward.
Passing under spray and dangling vines from the edge of the falls, she found herself in a misty hollow that smelled of rain. Her eyes adjusted to the loss of sunlight, and she soon saw that inside the cave, everything glowed with a dim radiance and bore the subtle sheen of moonlight and starlight and half-remembered dreams. A lady was inside, and her dress had the texture of moth wings and new leaves. She was seated on a large smooth boulder, and her pretty bare feet dangled in a pool where tiny blue fish swam. Candles shaped like white flowers floated in the water, their tiny flames making flickering spheres of gold light that reflected on the still surface. The lady was smiling very slightly, and her dark, calm eyes were as deep and still as the pool. A narrow crescent of pearl hung in her shadowy hair, and the air was filled with sibilant whispers, though her lips never moved.
Hero felt that this was a good time and place to fill her water bottle, and she asked, with words and with signs, if she might do so. The lady inclined her head in agreement, and beckoned her to approach. She reached up into the moist air, and a beautiful rock-crystal goblet appeared in her hand. She offered it to Hero, with a smile, and a sweet voice rang through the air saying “May you have your heart’s desire!” Hero was filled with wonder, and accepted the goblet. She knelt by the pool, to fill it, and tasted the cool water. It was sweet and delicious- and she took out her bottle and filled that also. She stood and turned to give back the lovely goblet- but the lady had vanished! All else was unchanged. When she faced the falling waters, she saw a pair of shining eyes gazing back at her from among the mingled hanging vines and shimmering torrent- but just as quickly as she saw them, gossamer lids closed over them with a butterfly-wing swiftness, and they vanished- leaving only the rainbow refractions of sunlight just beginning to peek through the falling curtain. Whispers spun in the air around her, and her skin tingled with a thousand promises. She picked up her pack, and put away her goblet with her wand. When her hand touched her flute, she knew she should give her thanks with silence- and let it rest where it was. The cavern echoed its farewell in a surge of rushing winds and then spoke no more. She left an apple on the ledge where the lady had been, shouldered her pack, and moved on.
As she passed beyond the silver curtain, and moved the last hanging vine out of the way, she was struck with how the passing of time had changed the view before her. It was full morning now, and the sun had chased all the mists and chill from the valley. Buds that had nodded their sleepy heads were now open and smiling. The air buzzed with bees collecting the sweetness from their willing cups. Hero licked her lips with an appreciation of the refreshment she had enjoyed, and followed the sloping path toward a stand of skeletal trees- wind-twisted and pale among the riotous greenery and dark rocks. A hawk sat motionless in the topmost branches, surveying the wind-swept distance- and watched her approach. Hero had a moment of concern for her small dog, hoping it was not mistaken for a tasty morsel by larger relatives of the sharp-eyed predator in the tree. There had been no sounds of distress in the valley- so again, she decided not to worry, and walked on. As she drew closer to the bare trees, she was startled to see the hawk suddenly spread it’s wings and dive out of sight. While she was gazing at the place where it disappeared, her bare foot slipped on some wet mud, and she nearly tumbled down the rocky escarpment, and was saved by rolling up against a mossy outcropping of rounded rock. Her sudden landing caused her apples to roll out of her pack, and one plummeted over the edge of the trail and was lost. A little shocked, but unhurt, she checked the rest of her treasures to make sure they were unharmed.
All was well. She collected her remaining apples, and decided to rest for a moment, and eat one. Just as she was biting into it’s crisp flesh, she heard a footstep, and looked up.
To her amazement, she saw another Lady standing there…but this Lady was different. She was wearing a beautiful red cloak covered with bright embroidered flowers, and her yellow hair cascaded down her shoulders in a spill of riotous curls. She carried a basket of fruit over one arm, and as she came closer to Hero, she grinned warmly, and offered her hand. Hero reached up to press the proffered hand for a courteous greeting, but found her own hand clasped in a firm grip that pulled her up to her feet. She allowed the Lady to lead her to a place in the grass by the side of the path where they both sat down, and the Lady spread a picnic before them on a cloth as checkered and cheerful as a farm-wife’s apron. From nowhere, the Lady produced a brimming pitcher of of milk, but there was no cup. Hero remembered the goblet in her pack, and drew it out to receive the offered refreshment. Calm contentment spread through her as she drank. She added her apples and cheese to the repast spread out on the cloth, and the Lady nodded her approval as she measured her with eyes as bright and silvery grey as newly minted coins. It seemed that no matter how much they ate, there was always more. The
Lady ate heartily too, and not a word passed between them. Hero could not help but notice the ripe curve of her pregnancy, peeking through the opening of her cloak- the gaily printed fabric of her dress did little to hide it under it’s folds. This in no way hindered her movements, or her generosity as she filled a plate again and again, and urged the delicious viands on Hero, with gestures that seemed to say “You need to build up your strength for this journey you’re on.”
When Hero could eat and drink no more, the Lady wrapped the remaining food in a cloth napkin, swept the crumbs off the plate that Hero had been using, and handed her the bulging package. Hero accepted the bundle with good grace, and stowed it quickly in her pack, noting that her apples and cheese supplies had increased rather than diminished, and were in the company of mushroom pie and good brown bread. She turned to hand back the earthenware plate, but the Lady was nowhere to be seen. The cloth was still there, and as she looked down at the plate in her hands, which now was empty, she saw the simple star design incised into its unglazed ocher yellow surface. She shrugged and stowed the plate handily underneath the other items in her pack, thinking that it would serve this purpose again- and as she was rearranging her increasing cargo to fit more handily in the available space, she heard a voice both hearty and merry say “May you always find what you need.”
She quickly looked around, but there was no one around.
The noonday sun shone warmly down upon her, and bees buzzed in nearby flowers that nodded their sleepy heads in the heat of midday. The sweet smells conspired with her full stomach and the milk she had drunk, and drowsiness stole over her. She placed her pack on the cloth behind her, pushed her shoes out of the way, and laid her head upon it, placed her cap over her eyes, and was soon asleep.
A shadow looming over her caused a sudden chill to awaken her. When she opened her sleepy eyes, at first she thought it was night- but then remembered to push the cap from her face, and saw a tall, broad shadow standing over her. In alarm, she quickly sat up, disturbing some crumbs and scavenging ants- and brushed them away. The figure did not move, but came into focus as she woke up more fully, and she saw that it was a man with a craggy face, clad in garments of leather and chain maille. His faraway gaze was gentle, though his expression was fierce- and his helm was by his side, revealing dark hair with iron grey streaks flowing back from his temples. A sheathed sword hung from an ornate belt at his hips, and his booted feet were planted firmly in the stony soil of the path. He gazed across the valley with a thoughtful expression, and then turned to look at her. His beaky nose robbed him of a certain beauty, and yet his face was handsome in it’s power and dignity. Hero was reminded of tales about kings of old, and battles lost and won- but there was no sense of danger here. His manner expressed pride and power, yet she felt his presence was protective, and assuring. He pointed a gauntleted hand at the valley floor- no longer very far below, and she craned her neck to follow the gesture. In the near distance, she could see her little dog, capering alongside the river- tossing a hank of dried grasses in the air, and then running to catch it again. She looked back at the tall warrior-king, and suddenly noticed the golden crown almost hidden in his thick brown hair. His gaze was keen and measured her with a certain kindness, as he assessed her condition and alertness. He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet, much as the Lady had done. With quick firm movements he directed her to tidy herself, and helped her adjust her gear so that it sat more securely. He directed her to take up the cloth that the lady had left, and she folded it around the contents so they would not clatter together with her movements when she continued on her way. He surveyed the path ahead, and wordlessly pointed out sharp rocks, muddly patches, and the tracks of a predator in the soft dirt.
He turned, and with signs made it clear that the view confused the eye- about distance, about snags and dangers in her path, about ease of travel and rough places to avoid. He pointed out a stretch where falling rocks could tumble down as she passed, and an alternative loop at a safer distance. He frowned at her bare feet, and shook his head in disapproval. She quickly untied her shoes from the side of her pack, and put them on. He made her understand that as soon as she was safely by the river, that she should wash her feet and clean her shoes, then put them back on, once she had dried them again on the grass. He pointed to the western sky, where the sun was slowly heading, and she realized that it was late afternoon, and she would have to hurry. Mountains beckoned from the far side of the valley, and a tiny light shone briefly from a peak, and then was gone.
She bowed in respect and thanks, half expecting the man to vanish- but he remained visible, and caught her arm to stop her. With great ceremony, he undid his swordbelt, and slid it’s shining buckles to make it fit her slenderer girth. He removed the sword and gestured for her to kneel. With a pounding heart, but without fear, she knelt in the dried grasses beside the path. He touched each of her shoulders briefly with the bright blade, and then proffered its handle for her to grip. It was unexpectedly light and supple in her hand, and she admired it’s gleaming length before sheathing it.
He placed a hand upon either of her shoulders in benediction, and then helped her back up.
He smiled, showing strong white teeth, and said “May you always discern the truth,” and then turned her toward the path and gave her a gentle push. She pressed one of her crisp golden apples upon him, which he accepted with good grace and a quick smile- and then took to her journey once more. At the next switchback, turned to gaze back at his watching figure- now seated- a statuesque figure that could have been carved from the rocks, except for the gleams of his crown and his armour.
He raised a hand in farewell, and then crossed one leg over the other, and returned to surveying the distance. A hawk wheeled above, then followed the river northward.
Hero navigated the path successfully, avoiding the rockfalls and came to the river. She cleaned her feet and her shoes as she’d been directed to do- and as she was drying herself on the soft grasses, her dog came bounding up, delightedly barking his greeting.
She knew she was far from completing her journey- even though the sun was approaching the horizon. In fact, the journey had just begun.
She strode toward the future, with her dog beside her, looking for a likely place to camp for the night.
She looked forward to seeing the moon and stars again. The world was full of the promise of adventure, and new possibilities!

Here’s the link to the Tarot Blog Hop List:

Here’s the link to the Tarot Blog Hop Group Page on Facebook:

The blog before mine in the blog hop list is:
Chloe McCracken http://innerwhisperscouk.blogspot.com/2013/09/mabon-blog-hop-mythical-things.html

The blog after mine in the list is:
Joanne Sprott http://cosmicwhisperstarot.com/2013/09/22/mabon-tarot-blog-hop-star-stories/

Please be sure to check out the posts by these excellent writers.
Thank you.

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The Making of Viking Knit Chain Maille- Two Necklaces for Two Friends

This gallery contains 17 photos.

I recently learned how to make Viking Knit Chain Maille. This stuff is very different from the linked rings style that we have become accustomed to seeing in movies and at Renaissance Faires because it’s made of wire that is … Continue reading

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Appearing Tomorrow at 1 PM EDT on NuLife Radio!

Listen in tomorrow at 1 PM Eastern Daylight Time, on the NuLife Radio Show, on BlogTalkRadio!

It’s gonna be a BIG double-feature this Sunday! In the the first hour, on “The Tarot Today Show”, our Special Guest will be Tarot Guild Endorsed Reader, Astrologer & Reiki Master Anita Perez! In the second hour, on “The NuLife Radio Show”,

Kooch Daniels will also be reporting Live from The Bay Area Tarot Symposium!

Catch the shows, starting at 10am San Diego – 1pm New York – 6pm London – Listen/Chat Here: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/nuliferadio/2012/08/26/sunday

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In Honor of World Tarot Day- Free Lenormand Oracle Readings, All Day!

I will be giving FREE Lenormand Oracle Card Readings ALL DAY LONG, via Facebook Video Chat.

Find me on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/abracadabraoriginal


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Moon Food, and the Wesak Festival

The Full Moon that falls in the month of Taurus every spring marks the Wesak Festival. It’s considered to be a day for all Light-Workers, and the emanations of the Full Moon at this time is supposed to be revitalizing and recharging for all those who champion the light. People often will gather in groups, at Unity, Metaphysical and Unitarian Churches through out the US, and in the rest of the world, in all Buddhist Temples, some Hindu Temples, and some Asian Christian Churches. It is a day to connect in with the web of light, to meditate, and commune with like minded people all over the world, and bask in the frequency of the Avatars, brought to earth by the light of the Moon.

Tradition has it that this is the celebration of Buddha’s Birthday, and that all the avatars he ever came to earth as, will be present with all those who seek the Light. Compassion and peace are the energy frequency of this sacred time, and one of the practices customary for this day is the gathering of moonbeams in a crystal bowl of pure water. The bowl is set out where moonlight can fall on it, and the participants will chant and sing, and sometimes there will be dancing. The water will be distributed among the attendees to be drunk, or sometimes a person will dampen a cloth and wash their face and hands with it. Some people will come to Wesak Gatherings with a clean bottle, and at the end of the group meditation session, will take some of the water- which is believed to have healing properties- home with them to friends and family.

I like to use the emanations of Wesak Light to cleanse and charge my divination tools, my  personal sacred objects, and of course the tools and materials which I use to create my sacred art with.

In addition, as those who know me can tell you, there is always food involved!

On Wesak, nothing should take away from the drinking of moon-charged water, but food is always welcome, LOL.

Wesak Moon-energy is considered nourishing to the soul, but people do enjoy their physical foodstuffs, so MoonFood has it’s place on every table. The only stipulations are that it has to be vegetarian -(dairy is ok)- and it helps if it has something round and moon-like about it, to remind you of the very special occasion that it is.

Here are a couple of photographic suggestions, should you choose to share this beautiful custom with guests, or just to have something special for your evening of Light.

One word of advice: save the treats till after. Carbs are grounding.


Flaky biscuits, stuffed with Vermont Cheddar Cheese, then baked.

Delicious Berry & Cream Cheese Biscuit

Queso Fresco, wGrapes

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Creating a Tarot Bag

This gallery contains 13 photos.

A bunch of Tarot Enthusiasts on Facebook decided to have a Tarot Bag exchange, where people chose partners and made each other bags. This idea was the brain-child of the pixie-ish Gidget London, a lively and creative member of the … Continue reading

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Just a bit less than one year ago, I posted this entry after finding out that a cherished mentor had left this plane of existence. I am re-posting what I wrote then, as his influence in my life is far from over. Every time I shuffle a deck of Tarot cards, I think of him, and bless the day he first singled me out and spoke to me. I can’t even begin to express the importance of what he did for me; words are insufficient.


Just a bit less than one year ago, I posted this entry after finding out that a cherished mentor had left this plane of existence. I am re-posting what I wrote then, as his influence in my life is far from over. Every time I shuffle a deck of Tarot cards, I think of him, and bless the day he first singled me out and spoke to me. I can’t even begin to express the importance of what he did for me; words are insufficient.


This wonderful man was the very first person who read my cards for me, with a Waite deck that had belonged to his grandmother. He gave me an amazing reading, full of hope and validation, and told me that someday I would become a very fine reader myself.

I had the great satisfaction of returning to him some years later, and reading his cards- and…

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The Long and Winding Path

For the purposes of this blog, I will be using images from the Universal Waite Tarot Deck. The RWS deck has become a Modern Standard; the Coloring used by Mary Hanson Roberts shows the detail admirably, and reproduces well.

The image of the path leading off into the distance is a key image in Tarot, even though most of the cards don’t show it. In some cards, it’s presence is implied rather than shown, (such as in the 10 of Wands, The Chariot, and even The Fool card itself).


His path may be invisible, be he has faith that it's there

Clearly The Fool is starting out on a journey; in fact many Tarot teaching traditions consider the entire deck to be stages in the Fool’s Journey. The presence of an obvious path may not seem necessary, since The Fool is creating the path by virtue of starting out on his journey, (even though the first steps seem to take the Fool over a cliff.)
I’m reminded of the invisible path in the Indiana Jones movie, “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade”where Indiana has to step out into what seems to be empty space, taking it on faith that he will not tumble into the abyss, and finds that he is supported by a path that he couldn’t see until he was actually on it. The Fool is just such a character- able to take it on Faith that the path is there, even as he steps out into thin air. The mundane world would call him naive and foolish (what better reason to call him “The Fool”?). The fact that he is the key character in the Tarot, and that the journey through all the other cards is his journey, makes it clear that he is right, and that in order to grow and evolve, he must take that chance.


A winged being stands at the beginning of the path, pouring water from one vessel into another

Let’s explore the images where the path is visible. Whether or not it indicates actual travel in the mundane sense, or represents an evolutionary process is up to the interpreter, and depends on the context of the reading.

Let’s begin with the Temperance card. A beautiful winged being with a shining face stands with one foot on land and the other in a pool of clear water. In older decks, this being is depicted as female, but in the RWS deck- the figure shown is androgenous.
A narrow well worn path rises from the water, leading toward the horizon. It meanders from the rocks at the water’s edge, through meadows and rolling hills toward lofty mountains that loom in the distance. A shining phantom crown hovers over those far peaks, seeming to beckon from the heights. The winged being pours fluid from one vessel into another. His  head is surrounded by a halo of energy. On his forehead is a bright yellow sun symbol that seems to add to the radiance of his golden hair and halo. A symbol of alchemy adorns the breast of his white robe.

Traditionally, this card represents moderation in thought, word and action, but it also has a deeper meaning, given by the root of the word itself- “temper”-ance. First, there is the quality of self-control, of not indulging in extreme demonstrations of emotion- either negative, such as anger- or positive, such as passion or euphoria. Also there is the process of tempering metals for fine tools and edged weapons, (very similar to the repeated steps of distillation in the alchemical process), where the metal is heated, worked and cooled repeatedly, giving it a superior tensile strength and flexibility.
In short, following a disciplined path while keeping true to a firm set of principles will bring you to heights where greater nobility of character is attained. The message also seems to indicate that it is more about experiencing the process of the journey than about achieving a specific goal. The process is what creates the changes, rendering you- the traveler- into a stronger, purer metal and an instrument capable of holding a sharper edge.


A primitive creature crawls out of the primordial waters, seeking higher ground

The next card that shows the long and winding path is The Moon.

Again, it begins at the water’s edge, leading off into a mountainous distance. Two towers flank this path, as two animals- a wild wolf and a domesticated dog bay at the full moon shining above. A crawfish-like creature crawls up out of the water onto the beginning of the path. Yods- representing the gift of life energy- rain down from the shining moon.
Again, we have the indication of evolution- a journey that takes us from the watery realm of raw emotion and unconscious existence into the heights- a well worn symbol of enlightenment. The Moon, shining it’s yod-beams down upon the scene provides light for the creature to see the path it embarks upon.


The path here begins in a garden setting, but leads the viewer toward rocky terrain

Following this, we have the Ace of Pentacles- that most earthy representation of achievement. The scene is a garden of lilies bordered by a hedge of blooming red roses. In this case, the path starts out wide and smooth, leading to an archway that frames a view of a mountainous landscape. A hand offers a shining pentacle from a puff of cloud suspended in a pearl gray sky.

If we can tread the path from relative domestic comfort into the rough mountainous terrain, and not deviate from our purpose, the reward of earthly success is offered. Pentacles represent wealth and abundance, yet they also indicate the presence of creativity and the willingness to do whatever it takes to reach a goal. The fact that the path once again leads to the heights symbolizes that the reward will not just be a physical attainment, but also a refinement of character and spirit. Presumably, such processing will render the traveler more able to appreciate and manage the wealth that is gained with greater wisdom, creativity and fairness.


In this card, the path is shown behind the person in the card, at the lower left.

Finally we have the 8 of Pentacles.

A young man works diligently to create pentacles. He sits on his work bench, chiseling away at his current project, with a pleasantly absorbed expression. In the background, to the lower left hand side, behind the young man, a castle sits on a green slope. A yellow path partially hidden by trees leads up to the open gateway.
The process of perfecting one’s skills opens up the way to achieve many of the finer things in life. Becoming a competent and successful craftsman makes it possible to rise from your current position to the kind of person who could be invited to such a dwelling for commissions. Eventually, one could attain enough mastery of this skill to live in a place every bit as grand, and presumably support others in their quest for excellence in their turn.


The path leads to the castle entrance. The gate is open...

Becoming a master at one’s craft does not stop at making beautiful and useful things, and basking in the wealth one is able to earn. It also means that you attain a sense of self-respect because you are living up to your potential. When you know you are worthy of it, you can achieve wisdom and compassion as well, and can act as a mentor for others, who like yourself, start small and work their way up to mastery of their craft. What the master craftsman creates is not limited to finer and prettier objects; the finest product of this process is a finer self.

What more could The Fool aspire to?


Posted in Allegorical Fool's Journey, archetypes, cartomancy, Metaphysical, Spiritual, tarot, Tarot for Self Discovery, tarot interpretation, tarotcircle | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

A Furry Visitation


Melissa- Perched in her favorite tree, in our backyard in South Carolina


Contact has been made.

It may sound silly to those of you who have never experienced a deep spiritual bond with an animal, but I have just had a profound experience.

I guess I should start at the very beginning, so that y’all know everything right up front.

Last year, I was doing volunteer work at this little community thrift shop, here in Maine, and the manager decided it was time to weed out the excess books. Now, I’m a book nut, and throwing out books- to me- is a terrible thing- so I weeded through them, claimed almost all of those that were aimed at the landfill, and carried them home with me, where I could take my time picking through them.
I gave most of them to two other thrift stores, (one of which supports a local no-kill cat shelter) but I also kept some that looked interesting. Among those I chose to keep was one called “Chasing Windmills”. I selected it because it was written by the same author who wrote “Pay It Forward” which I loved.

I stuck it on my shelf and forgot all about it.

Time went by, I moved a couple of times, had all sorts of things happen, and lost my dear cat Melissa to an upper respiratory infection.

The book sat on the shelf with it’s neighbors, as if waiting.

Today, after getting all my household tasks done, I was considering starting up my metaphysical blog again- this blog, in fact- wondering what I should write about. My mind was a-whirl of all sorts of competing ideas, none of which really grabbed me. I was just deciding whether to break out a Tarot deck, to troll for ideas, when a neighbor called to chat. He told me that his cat ran away, and I felt so sad for them both! The weather has turned cold and wet again, and the poor thing couldn’t have chosen a worse time to hightail it out into the great outdoors.

One thought led to another, and of course, I found myself thinking about Melissa and missing her terribly.

I gave up thinking about the blog, and sat here, feeling lost, mourning for my dear kitty.
Thinking it would be soothing to loose myself in a book, I selected one at random from the shelf. When I looked at it, it seemed too cheery and frivolous at first, but then I saw who wrote it, and noted that it was the “Pay It Forward” woman, and decided it would be good soul-medicine.

The first few chapters sped by, and I found myself getting a bit distracted, thinking about Melissa, again. I tried to stop feeling so sorry for myself, but just couldn’t shake the sadness. I picked up the book, and read a couple of more pages, and got to a page that looked rumpled. I looked more closely, and it actually looked chewed, with toothmarks and everything. I turned the page, hoping that no chunks would be missing from the next few pages, and this is what I found- a fairly big hank of Melissa’s distinctive long, shiny black fur- probably from her tail.

Now, Melissa never chewed books- or anything else, for that matter. She was an incredibly well behaved cat, especially for a formerly feral individual. She behaved as if she were raised on velvet- civilized from the day she was born- a real little lady.

All sorts of questions raced through my head, but inevitably I had to come to the conclusion that the fur was certainly hers, and that it was no coincidence. It even smelled like her- clean, with a faint odor of the herbal infusion I periodically damp-sponged her down with, to prevent fleas.

It may seem stupid to most people, but I can’t help but think it is deeply significant, that contact has been made.

By the way, the toothmarks were only on those two pages, the ones that enclosed the hank of fur.


Melissa's Fur, and the toothmarked pages that enclosed it.

I think the message is that Love never dies, that it always stays right with you, and that she is still here with me.

I share this now, because I know that many have need of this assurance, this evidence that we are never really lost to those who love and remember.

I guess this was as good a way as any I could think of, to start up this blog again.


Posted in tarotcircle | 3 Comments

Inspiration is Tidal

It waxes and wanes like the Moon, and sometimes life puts many demands upon us, which we are not always prepared for.

Recently I signed up for a new Tarot reading service, hoping that this would add a bit of volume to my income stream. In doing so, I stumbled upon a fascinating community of liked minded individuals, not at all like the sad collection of sharks and jackals I’d run into during unpleasant entanglements with other “services”.
I knew there was a tremendous renaissance underway in the Spiritual Community, but this was a startling shot in the arm, nonetheless. I was truly relieved to have landed in what felt like friendly waters, even if the calls have not been forthcoming, and the communications have been sporadic and confusing. I realize that many of the glitches are technical, a problem more of servers and perhaps power interruptions than of any lack of good intentions. My flashing clock mocks me, even as I write this, because some of the glitches are on my side of the pond. Maine has been having more than it’s share of electrical storms, and utility companies have been compounding the issue by tearing up the streets, and replacing outdated equipment.
Anyway, I’ve decided to muscle some things aside in order to make room in my hectic life for more regular hours to offer consulting and teaching, something I haven’t done on a regular basis since relocating to the turbulent north. I will announce times of availability and post links, and eventually even work out some kind of predictable schedule.


Posted in cartomancy, Divination, fortune, intuition, journaling, Metaphysical, Moon, readings, Spiritual, tarot instruction, tarot interpretation, tarotcircle | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment