Sunday, March 6, 2016

Good morning and Welcome! to my Scales of Ma’at for 07Mar2016 : as my Heart I drew the Knight of Swords (ya-w-n, surprise, surprise) and as the open, wet & willing vase the Ace of Cups serves the Feather of Truth. (Today’s deck is the *Brotherhood Tarot* by Patrick Stillman. It’s a gay deck, and reasonably presentable, but I have one great big Question: Where are the women? Lesbians, transgendered women and drag queens don’t exist? Are you telling me that gay men don’t have mothers, sisters, female friends, female relatives, even wives & daughters? Guess again, Clueless Clyde! Actually, I’m rather insulted that someone thought the complete absence of women would adequately represent all the possibilities of my life, or indeed any LGBT person’s life.  Other than that, the deck is mediocre. It has ONE outstanding quality, however; readings flow like water out of this deck, and it also seems to drift into “Wake up and smell the coffee, honey!” territory. Big flaws, but easy reading. I’ve never used it for a client, and unless requested *by name*, I doubt that I ever will. I’d have a hard time selling a bearded guy as the Empress or High Priestess to anyone: it ridicules the deck and turns it into a limp blade in the now-ancient sexual revolution.) C’mon, give me 78 ANYTHING, stones, sticks, living exotic animals, whatever, I will infallibly pick the (corresponding) Knight of Swords to represent my Heart! “Damn, Mother Theresa, who does a girl have to screw around here to get this stud off my back?” (Read all the double-entendre into that that you wish.) Someone very kindly wrote the other day, “We’re missing something here, the Knight keeps returning.” Kindly I say, because she used the pronoun “we” – it’s me being the thick plank here, no one else. I’m NOT doing something, or I am doing something UNWISE, and I haven’t yet caught on, and the knight keeps whacking my shins with that damn sword, demanding I find it & fix it. Ooh fuck, man, I get tired sometimes, you know? I DO try my best, but the list is endless; how I ever kept such a collection of “walking errors & nightmares & bad feelings” up & working is a mystery to me now. Somehow I managed to find enough to live on, emotionally, and I fed my mind endlessly, and it brought me to the doorstep of the Tarot, with an invitation to step inside and discover myself. (Yes, I’m oversimplifying; of course my life is more complex than that, but hey! I try to keep myself to 1000 words or less!)I’m not going to do the “bones” and all the other connections today for two reasons; 1) I don’t want to do it, and 2) I don’t want to do it. Blahblahyakyak, sometimes I get tired of my own chatter, you know?
 Moving on, the Feather of Truth is encouraging me to put up with my traveling companion, the Knight, in order to reach the beach, relax and give birth to Love. (God, I hope I don’t get sand in my vagina.) Now this angers me, just a bit. Every time I show the slightest interest in an amour, or the grand emotion that spreads and blossoms and brings unreasoning and unreasonable happiness, I’m told, “Shut it. You’re past that, assume your proper role and learn to love ALL mankind.” I presume that I no longer to find it dignified to have a sexual identity, because after all, this is me talking to me, right? Why would I cut off my own penis like that? And THAT suit exists, by Osiris, for a reason, which ISN’T “avoid me, I’m not for you.” I’m doing well with most of it, BTW. And I can take this Ace as encouragement to continue the renewal of my emotional life. If I’m looking at “reaching an emotional plateau or culminating a sacrifice that results in deep & lasting peace” (Biddy) I can deal with that, too, as I have been doing since the onset of autumn 2015. It was originally heavily overloaded with backed-up emotion (if you were reading me then, do you remember the tear-soaked missives I wrote from the windswept moors, my ripped bodice flapping in the wind and Sir Englishsnob gazing at me with lust? Grin.) It’s slowed down, thank Jane Austen! I suppose I could indulge myself and fall head-over-heels in love with someone totally inappropriate, but it’s such a tedious task disentangling oneself from adolescent fantasies that crop up late in life. And besides, who wants to impose? Which is what that is, an imposition, because whether one admits it or not, our love is a burden that we bear willingly. My mind always, rightly or wrongly, defaults to the idea of “insemination” whenever I see the Ace of Cups. The “start” of the emotionally complex panorama one calls a life; and it may also serve to indicate the “insemination” of Emotion itself; “Grow Your Love!” It takes a long time to rid ourselves of the crippled notions we were given about Love; each generation handicaps the next in this area. Our ideas of marriage are NOT the same as our parents; young people live by an emotional moral system I can accept but not understand. I hasten to add that I’m grateful that at least I can accept it! Gay training, no doubt! Well, enough of this messing around with fingerpaints on a deck of cards today; I feel like I’ve shamelessly indulged myself in a non-Reason fest, like a happy hippo in the mud, on today’s draw, but so be it. I’m not in a sphincter-tightening mood today. I wish us ALL the blessings and benefits that cooperation with the Cosmos provides!   

 

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