Good Morning and Welcome! to The Fool’s Tarot for 13Apr2017. Today I am using my own Basics Mutated spread, and the deck is the new! *Rosetta Stone Tarot: Papyrus Edition* by M. M. Meleen. A reissue of her very popular first deck, but with new borders and a cleaned up deck – I am most impressed, I already love it. And of course, like the Rosetta of old (which I loved & still do,) the deck itself is “rigorously, even energetically, truthful,” as I am delighted to declare. There is also a very insightful accompanying book, “The Book of Seshet; Guide to the Rosetta Tarot” also authored by MS. Meleen. I love the book as much as the deck; it is very helpful in grokking the artist’s intent (and her success, IMHO.) Thank You, Ms. Meleen, for another *star* deck. So, Onward & Upward! (Every time I write that line, I feel as if I should be wearing a Mercury costume in silver lamé, pathetically trying to “wing my way” offstage in some 2nd-rate production of a forgettable Restoration play. LOL. ) Today’s draw is: Sulfur = XII the Hanged Man; Sulfur = XVIII the Moon, and Salt = the Knight of Cups (this is a Thoth/GD–style deck. Therefore, Knights = Kings in other decks.) Well, with a rueful little lopsided grin, I recognize the Truth of today’s draw right off the top of the read (although these particular cards don’t specifically lend themselves to tableau reading, at least trying can sometimes yield hidden results. For instance, these three cards quite accurately resume a small personal dilemma that has been biting my ankles for two and a half days now. I felt “disrespected” by someone close to me, by not being “taken seriously when, the day before, I had explained quite clearly why I didn’t wish something to happen. The person, fully acknowledging this, went ahead and did it anyway. I was “furax,” as the French say. I did keep both my head and my tongue however, and have been residing in semi-brooding curtness since then. I recognized, at the beginning, that this was going to most likely be a “swallow it and smile, bitch” situation. I COULD resent that, and that is what I have been doing. Underneath that, I know what is actually playing out, and while I do understand it, I still find it infuriating. I am being “directed,” yet once again, to sacrifice my ego on the Tree and give my “personhood” back to the clouds of illusion where it belongs – “it’s all a lesson, Mark, it’s ALL a lesson.” I recognize that my interpretation isn’t wrong or right, but that it DOESN’T MATTER. I KNOW that; I just conveniently forget it at times when my ego wants to romp and strut a bit. Alright, received, over and out. Moving on to the feminine, passive current of Mercury,
my anima is prolonging her stay in the silvery Halls of the Moon. Which is a misnomer, in fact; they aren’t “Halls” as such at all, but rather all part of the Moon’s Great Labyrinth, which every questioner must walk before the Moon will give access to any of her secrets. Scylla and Charybdis, Boaz and Joachim guard her realm, and she is always afloat on the waters, in this case incarnated as Scylla, the monster. I’m “guessing” (read guessing & intuiting) that she’s still hangin’ with Diana because she’s been told this a time for me to be alone, to act alone and not in concert, and she is to cool her heels in the Moon, furthering her own Journey with shat she may need there. She’s been told, “Hands off Mark, at least for now. He has work to do, alone.” Well, OK, so mote it be; I suppose. Finally, being pushed on down the river by a mighty stroke of Tiamat’s tale, I arrive at the factory town where the machinery that supplies the power to this valley is located, and find that it is indeed the Knight of Cups, our always-diffident champion of emotions and intuition. He’s not looking nearly as ill-fitting in this system as he is in the RWS. There he actually looks like he doesn’t want to be king; here he seems like being the “jousting, fighting” knight for the love of his lady, crashing through the raging water on a tide of victory. (A winged being on a horse in a storm? Hmm, bizarre. “Why ride when you can fly?” LOL – I know, fuck logic.) Nevertheless, the energy to run this construct today comes from LOVE; I know it and can feel it. My Love needs to win here, not my “rightness.” I need to make sure my definition of love includes ‘unconditional charity’, or else I’m playing a charade when I say I love someone. Unconditional charity means, to me, the ability to overlook or rise above a pothole in the smooth macadam of the sealed friendship. I needn’t reproach anyone for anything – it isn’t my job. And if reproach does rise
into my thoughts, then I need to look at where and why I feel injured, because that, too, can only be an illusion of the ego. No one can hurt me, ever. Not really. I am a spiritual being and a child of the Living All, God if you like, and in fact if I can “get my head right” I have no need to think of this realm of Malkuth as having any real effect on me – “I’m just passin’ through, ma’am, just passin’ through.” Our Knight of Love looks very young and full of energy; I notice he’s sporting the vanity of Hera behind him – the peacock’s tale. It was Hera’s fetish animal, and she was said to be able to gaze through every eye on its tail; another way to look at that is that she was a nosy bitch who knew everyone’s business and made it her business to make her husband’s life miserable. You choose. (I’m not particularly interested in trashing Hera, per se, but I have next to NO respect for the lacquered hypocrites who conduct their lives deliberately along the lines of the petite bourgeoisie, and haven’t an original thought in their heads because everything was already known in 1859. There are a LOT of examples of it here in France; it is disheartening to experience, because it confirms my most horrible suspicions of their Revolution; killing off the intelligentsia left only the poor and the intellectually impoverished to illuminate what had been a glorious chateau of learning and erudition; I don’t excuse the ‘ancien régime’ of its crimes against human decency; I simply blame the Revolutionaries for eradicating the intelligentsia, leaving of nation full of the barely literate. The French literary establishment has never really recovered, and why it is also entirely stuffed with the pretentious and vainglorious.) (‘Whew! Rant over.’) At all events, the Knight IS giving me good vibes on the emotional front AND intuitional front; “Keep it tamped down, Mark, and sacrifice it, again; get back to not indulging your ego.” The intuitional front kicks in with a double realization of where “we” all are – where we need to be to distill myself again, as well as maintain the proper union of yin and yang. He’s a vigorous king, this time, and that is appreciated; I can use the thought of Love quite efficiently as I strip down and get back to unity. I ask the Cosmos to give us all an honest look at our egos’ places in our lives today. Be Well, Be Zen, Be Blessed!