I am, especially to those who really know me, rather an emotional person.
I cry at the drop of a hat, smile when I see something I doubt others would notice, laugh for the little things and get irritated by stupidity (especially when it comes out of my own head). Positive and negative live and share the moments in my daily life.
When it comes to my "tarot face", I'm a rather friendly reader and will do what I can to only give my sitters the advice I see in the cards, and I always try and remind them, if it's bad, it gets better.
My "home face", on the other hand, is a complete shambles. Lately, my emotions have been completely out of sync with each other, and my two faces can't decide which one should be in place at which time anymore. I mean, really, I feel like the poster child for Bi-polar treatment most nights!
Tonight is one of those nights. I had a really amazing evening, vacuuming the house after the 5 pm cartoon (please note, I just looked for the number "5" on my "D" key), having a shower and then rolling and frying flatbreads for supper. I even watched both episodes of "Law and Order" on SABC3 and then "Supernatural", and decided, sod it, I only need to wash my hair tomorrow, not take a whole shower, so I did the dishes, too.
However, while I was busy with the dishes I thought about my friend Hannes.
I miss him so much. He died last May and I only found out October, not really because it was anyone's fault. We weren't the type of friends that spent hours talking on the phone or texting each other, but when we saw each other we spent hours catching up and chatting.
Just before J and I got involved Hannes and I met online. We both worked in Tyger Valley in 2005/6 and just never gave it a shot, so meeting a year or so later and chatting from there we became friends. It happened every now and then that we would both speculate on what would have happened if we'd ever started dating while we worked in Tyger Valley. He always said he was interested, but never showed it because at that stage he was still in a relationship, albeit an unhappy one. For my part, my gaydar was still in its fledgling stage, so I was clueless about him.
The point is, when we made ogies at each other we never spoke; when we did speak neither of us were ready for anything. And when I wanted to discuss it again, I found out he'd had a heart attack five months previously.
I think I thought about Hannes because of the course I'm on at the moment. It has been, politely put, an emotionally fucked up ride for me. Again, it's no-one's fault at all. In fact, the specific lesson I had in mind that sparked thoughts of Hannes went along these lines:
Our ollamh made us write out a list of eight people, a maximum of two celebrities; the rest were people we'd met or had in our lives. Then he said, "Write down one quality that person taught you about." So, in a different colour, we wrote a single quality our people had taught us (for instance, Jaqcueline Carey taught me, "Love as thou wilt" - be open and accepting of love and giving it). Then the ollamh said, "Under that quality, write a colour that you feel describes that person." Which we did. Afterwards we discussed the lesson and he gave us tips on how to bring those colours into our lives. One of the easiest ways is a bracelet, so he suggested we weave a bracelet with all the colours we listed so that each time we see the bracelet or one of the colours around us, we'd be reminded of that quality.
Hannes' lesson to me was to take joy in the surprises Life sends my way, and his colour is black.
I'm having so much trouble dealing with this that it's actually ridiculous. Right now, I miss my friend, and I want to discuss this with him. The horrid irony, despite knowing I'll meet him in our next lives, is that he is the one person I can't discuss this lesson with.
Wednesday, 29 August 2012
Wednesday, 25 July 2012
Tonight's post is about the not-so-happy side of FAMILIES!
I'm only going to touch lightly on the tarot tonight, and even so not as such. What I mean is, at our monthly CTTA meeting the other day we discussed dream shields (a Native American device) and being a psychic detective.
The dream shield section of the talk was rather philosophical, and I have to admit that without my notes I don't think I would have remembered much of it. However, it was incredibly interesting and the lady giving the talk, Philomina (I hope!) had the MOST amazing hair! she's almost 60, doesn't look it, and only ever cuts her hair when she has split ends. You go, ladyjaan!!
The psychic detective work, on the other hand, really touched something in me. As a cartomancer it's my purpose to listen to the problems of my sitters and offer them advice and possibilities. Why not take that a step in a more formal direction and help the police with our gifts? Not only cartomancy, but runes, bones or just feelings are an incredible help to the police, and would you believe, they're so much more open to the idea of psychic detective work than what we would think.
In fact, I'll get her permission, then post details for the lady who gave the talk up on the next blog.
Now, time for the serious (and very touchy) part of the post.
We had a friend over for coffee this evening and as the conversation went we got talking about the nastier sides of family. Not my family, not your family, but families worldwide.
As a prime example: we recently went through the passing of someone very close to my family. There were things said and semi-agreements made and basically the possessions were divided among the remaining family. BOOM!! Suddenly the jewellery box is missing, three quarters of the paintings have gone to those who didn't want them originally and the furniture is also missing in action. WTF!? I mean, this poor woman has JUST died and her two eldest children and/or their partners have already villified themselves.
On the other end of the line a friend of mine is having issues with her elder sister. M has a good job with a vet where she earns what she's worth, by the grace of Goddess. Her sister, from what I understand, also has a good salary to her name, but would you believe, she's having conniptions because her little sister gets paid more than she does!
another person I know quite well used to run a company with his elder brother; point in fact, he owned the company and his brother was his employee. When the business got money in, for obvious reasons, there would be salaries all around. However, as with all artisan-based companies, there were quiet months where there were little to no salaraies. Will this older brother not run to his mother to complain!? I ask you, with tears in my tree green eyes, how the hell that works. I mean, here we have a forty-something-year-old running to their mother because little brother can't pay his salary. So little brother, being the upstanding guy that he is, pays his big brother - out of his own fucking pocket!!
Sorry, I just realised I've never actually sworn on this blog before.
This is one of a few examples I can list here of people bullying one of their own family members. I mean, seriously, wake up, people! Blood is supposed to be thicker than water. We're supposed to be taking care of each other; instead we run around behind each other's back and try to belittle our family members because they have less, or their lives have worked out differently to ours. Do you know what the worst of it all is? When they're caught or confronted about it, they've conveniently got no idea what you're talking about, flat out REFUSE to see that they're in the wrong, or WILL NOT apologise for their mistakes. Fuck that shit!
So, here is a direct and very confrontational message to all you family bullies, you "better than thems" or those of you who stir trouble:
GROW UP!!
The dream shield section of the talk was rather philosophical, and I have to admit that without my notes I don't think I would have remembered much of it. However, it was incredibly interesting and the lady giving the talk, Philomina (I hope!) had the MOST amazing hair! she's almost 60, doesn't look it, and only ever cuts her hair when she has split ends. You go, ladyjaan!!
The psychic detective work, on the other hand, really touched something in me. As a cartomancer it's my purpose to listen to the problems of my sitters and offer them advice and possibilities. Why not take that a step in a more formal direction and help the police with our gifts? Not only cartomancy, but runes, bones or just feelings are an incredible help to the police, and would you believe, they're so much more open to the idea of psychic detective work than what we would think.
In fact, I'll get her permission, then post details for the lady who gave the talk up on the next blog.
Now, time for the serious (and very touchy) part of the post.
We had a friend over for coffee this evening and as the conversation went we got talking about the nastier sides of family. Not my family, not your family, but families worldwide.
As a prime example: we recently went through the passing of someone very close to my family. There were things said and semi-agreements made and basically the possessions were divided among the remaining family. BOOM!! Suddenly the jewellery box is missing, three quarters of the paintings have gone to those who didn't want them originally and the furniture is also missing in action. WTF!? I mean, this poor woman has JUST died and her two eldest children and/or their partners have already villified themselves.
On the other end of the line a friend of mine is having issues with her elder sister. M has a good job with a vet where she earns what she's worth, by the grace of Goddess. Her sister, from what I understand, also has a good salary to her name, but would you believe, she's having conniptions because her little sister gets paid more than she does!
another person I know quite well used to run a company with his elder brother; point in fact, he owned the company and his brother was his employee. When the business got money in, for obvious reasons, there would be salaries all around. However, as with all artisan-based companies, there were quiet months where there were little to no salaraies. Will this older brother not run to his mother to complain!? I ask you, with tears in my tree green eyes, how the hell that works. I mean, here we have a forty-something-year-old running to their mother because little brother can't pay his salary. So little brother, being the upstanding guy that he is, pays his big brother - out of his own fucking pocket!!
Sorry, I just realised I've never actually sworn on this blog before.
This is one of a few examples I can list here of people bullying one of their own family members. I mean, seriously, wake up, people! Blood is supposed to be thicker than water. We're supposed to be taking care of each other; instead we run around behind each other's back and try to belittle our family members because they have less, or their lives have worked out differently to ours. Do you know what the worst of it all is? When they're caught or confronted about it, they've conveniently got no idea what you're talking about, flat out REFUSE to see that they're in the wrong, or WILL NOT apologise for their mistakes. Fuck that shit!
So, here is a direct and very confrontational message to all you family bullies, you "better than thems" or those of you who stir trouble:
GROW UP!!
Friday, 29 June 2012
My relationship and its status...
... is not up for discussion unless you ask me about it directly. Is that understood? I apologise profusely for being so confrontational and nagging about this, but I realise that unless I pull a You-(should) Know-Who, the message isn't going to get through: if I make mention of the relationship, ask me about it, because I made the mention. A few of you reading this know exactly what I'm talking about, as does Julian. He ( and the few who know what's doing ) also knows my irritation is well-founded.
Right-o, moving on.
With the stress of moving ( the actual move is happening tomorrow ) my mom and I decided to have a knertsie for our nerves. So we each had a little bit of strawberry cream, and since I had plans to run to the shops to return an allergy bracelet, I downed mine so I could get done and go. I hereby apologise for any errors, grammatical or otherwise, that you find in this entry. I never did get to the shops, if that clarifies anything...
I got a lovely Medieval Scapini Tarot deck as a gift from Z the other night. The poor dear hasn't been feeling all that well, but M&M and I stopped by their house the other night to drop off a birthday gift for the Prime Elder of the Tradition and, as is wont when Pagans and friends get together, we all ended up chatting, but sort of in shifts: ME went off with Z to the Temple space and they had a fat chat about ... something. Then, as we're getting our stuff sorted and getting ready to maneuvers, he pulled me into the Temple spac eand showed me his tarot collection. Wow. Me likey lotsa.
Anyway, as we left he gave me his spare Medieval Scapini. Wow. It's LOVELY! Below are my thoughts on the deck.
The art of the MS is probably best described as being "modern medieval". What that means is that while there's much "archetypal" medieval symbolism and the figures are drawn in an almost illuminated manuscript style, you also find many modern symbols and images inside the art of the cards.
This is what I mean:
Right-o, moving on.
With the stress of moving ( the actual move is happening tomorrow ) my mom and I decided to have a knertsie for our nerves. So we each had a little bit of strawberry cream, and since I had plans to run to the shops to return an allergy bracelet, I downed mine so I could get done and go. I hereby apologise for any errors, grammatical or otherwise, that you find in this entry. I never did get to the shops, if that clarifies anything...
I got a lovely Medieval Scapini Tarot deck as a gift from Z the other night. The poor dear hasn't been feeling all that well, but M&M and I stopped by their house the other night to drop off a birthday gift for the Prime Elder of the Tradition and, as is wont when Pagans and friends get together, we all ended up chatting, but sort of in shifts: ME went off with Z to the Temple space and they had a fat chat about ... something. Then, as we're getting our stuff sorted and getting ready to maneuvers, he pulled me into the Temple spac eand showed me his tarot collection. Wow. Me likey lotsa.
Anyway, as we left he gave me his spare Medieval Scapini. Wow. It's LOVELY! Below are my thoughts on the deck.
Two quick scans ( although I wanted to do it with MUCH higher resolution :( )
The art of the MS is probably best described as being "modern medieval". What that means is that while there's much "archetypal" medieval symbolism and the figures are drawn in an almost illuminated manuscript style, you also find many modern symbols and images inside the art of the cards.
This is what I mean:
If that isn't a flying saucer, then call me Susan!
Here's another one:
I'm in two minds about this one, though my first thought was, "Another UFO!!", and it's still the predominant thought in my mind. On reflection, it could be a covered dish or something along that line ( the King's been thrown from his castle; why not his supper, too? ), but I still see a UFO in this card.
In the Ace of Swords, I found this little gem:
Yes, I realise that by this time the Crusaders might have brought faint elements of Far Eastern art with them from Jerusalem et al, but as the artist himself ( apparently ) confessed, when he designed this deck after re-creating the lost cards of the Visconti-Sforrza Tarot, he didn't really know much about tarot interpretations; I'm guessing that at this stage he just put in some things he considered mystical and "tarot-ish".
As for the interpretations of these cards...
... I'll let you know what I think about them once I've had the chance to get my hands on a copy of the LWB (^_^)
What I can tell you, from official reviews, is that the LWB seems to be indispensible. Unless you have it, or have used the MS before, you won't have much of an idea of what's going on. Since I don't have the LWB, I'll have to sit and think carefully about using this deck now or later, once I've sat and worked through it a bit.
Thursday, 14 June 2012
Some thoughts over the last week.
After my post last week Julian didn't want to really talk to me. Yes, he was the single Christian at the braai that Sunday.
We had a chat about interfaith relationships (specifically Christian/Pagan) before we got to why he was really unhappy: I voiced my thoughts on a same-faith relationship not to him, but to the Internet.
Perhaps I should have at least warned him what I was up to, or what was running around in my head. I don't usually, but then, usually my entries aren't quite so personal. I never try to hurt anyone with my entries; I jsut say what's on my mind at the time. Unfortunately, what was on my mind didn't include Julian, but dreams and thoughts of someone else.
That said, through asking a thingy here and reading a few cards there, with a little bit of spying mixed into all of that, I've noticed that people never speak to me about my relationship directly. Remix: those friends that read the blog don't ask me about our relationship directly. Maybe I'm stepping on some toes here, but guys and girls, I'm the one typing the blog and venting here, not Julian. This is a space for me to say what I'm thinking or going through and venting. Julian might get a mention occasionally, but he isn't involved in the blogs I post and has no say over what I do or don't put up. If anyone's worried about what I put up, speak to me. I don't like the Snake or the Page of Swords coming up in readings I do for my blogs.
Am I making sense here?
On a MUCH lighter note:
We had a chat about interfaith relationships (specifically Christian/Pagan) before we got to why he was really unhappy: I voiced my thoughts on a same-faith relationship not to him, but to the Internet.
Perhaps I should have at least warned him what I was up to, or what was running around in my head. I don't usually, but then, usually my entries aren't quite so personal. I never try to hurt anyone with my entries; I jsut say what's on my mind at the time. Unfortunately, what was on my mind didn't include Julian, but dreams and thoughts of someone else.
That said, through asking a thingy here and reading a few cards there, with a little bit of spying mixed into all of that, I've noticed that people never speak to me about my relationship directly. Remix: those friends that read the blog don't ask me about our relationship directly. Maybe I'm stepping on some toes here, but guys and girls, I'm the one typing the blog and venting here, not Julian. This is a space for me to say what I'm thinking or going through and venting. Julian might get a mention occasionally, but he isn't involved in the blogs I post and has no say over what I do or don't put up. If anyone's worried about what I put up, speak to me. I don't like the Snake or the Page of Swords coming up in readings I do for my blogs.
Am I making sense here?
On a MUCH lighter note:
This is Gizmo. She's a very recent (like, just over 24 hours recent) addition to the clan. She's a rescue that couldn't stay at her rescuer's house because the dam that was already there kept getting territorial, so she came to me. I'm keeping her in the room for a few days just to get used to me before I let the dogs and guinea pig meet her. Zan says Moscow should be OK with her, and I know BG will be, but I'm never sure what Moscow will do around people or other animals.
Going to run now. Have stuff to sort out and and and...
So sleep tight and see you guys soon.
Monday, 4 June 2012
So at this Church bazaar a while back...
... a little girl was standing there, loud and proud, with her basket of kittens.
"Christian kittens for sale! Christian kittens for sale!" this little girl shouted at the top of her lungs.
The pastor, all happy and proud of this little girl for selling her "Christian kittens" with such proud abandon, very happily bought two from her.
Two weeks later, at another market, the same little girl stood with her basket of kittens for sale, but her message this time was, "Pagan kittens for sale! Pagan kittens for sale!"
The same pastor, who happened to be bargain-hunting, was mortified when he heard her.
"My child," he said, "two weeks ago you were selling Christian kittens. How did they become Pagan kittens!?"
The little girl looked up at the pastor and said, deadly earnest, "Oh, no, pastor, it's simple: last time their eyes were still closed."
(Shared, with some editing, after that of the fabulous Z. Katz)
We were at a braai last weekend and there were only six of us there. Out of the six of us, the one Christian stood out a bit, but he didn't mind too much. I can very happily report that he has his opinions, we have ours, and we all get along happily enough.
When I heard this joke, the thought struck me that we, as the Christians do, tend to lump everyone in the same pot. "Christians this, Christians that!" we shout, without taking the time to actually single out those individuals or individual groups that actually cause us the metaphorical grief we go through. In the same breath, yes, the Christians LOVE shouting' "Pagans this, Pagans that!", but some of them are also trying to send the message of "Single him/her/them out."
Am I making any sense here?
I took part in a competition yesterday (body art/beauty/maquettes) and was involved with two sections: as a model for Section 4 (Hand and Arm Prosthetics) and as an entrant for Section 7 (3D masks: Venetian Creations). I didn't win in my section, but my artist won second place in hers. The point is, there were some REALLY beautiful men there, not only in terms of models, etc, but some of the really normal, Camel-man type beauties as well, and I had a roving eye for most of the day. Yes, I am in a relationship, but looking at these men and thinking about last week's braai, I couldn't help myself from thinking, I would really love to have a Pagan boyfriend. It's a personally discriminatory thing for me to have thought, because you should be happy with the love you have, faults included; I also know of AT LEAST one other couple that are a Christian/Pagan blend, and their kids follow their own paths. But, that said, it doesn't change the fact that, given the chance, I wouldn't mind in the least having a Pagan boyfriend/lover. Or even agnostic. Would it be a way for me to properly cut my ties with my Christian upbringing (yes, shocker, I was a right little Churchified happy clappy, but in hindsight, I always liked the activities more than the messages I was supposed to be learning)? Or is it the way most people think when it comes to their faiths?
Ironically, wanting a Pagan boyfriend hearkens back to the Christian idea of marrying inside your own faith. That'd be ever so slightly hypocritical of me, I think: cut your ties, but sneak one of them into your life.
UUUURGH! My head says it's time to stop babbling so much and start making sense.
"Christian kittens for sale! Christian kittens for sale!" this little girl shouted at the top of her lungs.
The pastor, all happy and proud of this little girl for selling her "Christian kittens" with such proud abandon, very happily bought two from her.
Two weeks later, at another market, the same little girl stood with her basket of kittens for sale, but her message this time was, "Pagan kittens for sale! Pagan kittens for sale!"
The same pastor, who happened to be bargain-hunting, was mortified when he heard her.
"My child," he said, "two weeks ago you were selling Christian kittens. How did they become Pagan kittens!?"
The little girl looked up at the pastor and said, deadly earnest, "Oh, no, pastor, it's simple: last time their eyes were still closed."
(Shared, with some editing, after that of the fabulous Z. Katz)
We were at a braai last weekend and there were only six of us there. Out of the six of us, the one Christian stood out a bit, but he didn't mind too much. I can very happily report that he has his opinions, we have ours, and we all get along happily enough.
When I heard this joke, the thought struck me that we, as the Christians do, tend to lump everyone in the same pot. "Christians this, Christians that!" we shout, without taking the time to actually single out those individuals or individual groups that actually cause us the metaphorical grief we go through. In the same breath, yes, the Christians LOVE shouting' "Pagans this, Pagans that!", but some of them are also trying to send the message of "Single him/her/them out."
Am I making any sense here?
I took part in a competition yesterday (body art/beauty/maquettes) and was involved with two sections: as a model for Section 4 (Hand and Arm Prosthetics) and as an entrant for Section 7 (3D masks: Venetian Creations). I didn't win in my section, but my artist won second place in hers. The point is, there were some REALLY beautiful men there, not only in terms of models, etc, but some of the really normal, Camel-man type beauties as well, and I had a roving eye for most of the day. Yes, I am in a relationship, but looking at these men and thinking about last week's braai, I couldn't help myself from thinking, I would really love to have a Pagan boyfriend. It's a personally discriminatory thing for me to have thought, because you should be happy with the love you have, faults included; I also know of AT LEAST one other couple that are a Christian/Pagan blend, and their kids follow their own paths. But, that said, it doesn't change the fact that, given the chance, I wouldn't mind in the least having a Pagan boyfriend/lover. Or even agnostic. Would it be a way for me to properly cut my ties with my Christian upbringing (yes, shocker, I was a right little Churchified happy clappy, but in hindsight, I always liked the activities more than the messages I was supposed to be learning)? Or is it the way most people think when it comes to their faiths?
Ironically, wanting a Pagan boyfriend hearkens back to the Christian idea of marrying inside your own faith. That'd be ever so slightly hypocritical of me, I think: cut your ties, but sneak one of them into your life.
UUUURGH! My head says it's time to stop babbling so much and start making sense.
Tuesday, 15 May 2012
This post is going to be doing some jumping around on multiple topics. Here goes...
I've had a Lenormand deck of cards for a few years now, but never really used them until recently (as in, less than a year ago).
In this time I've learnt that my Lenormand aren't quite what's been out there for a number of years. For instance, most decks have a card called The Ship - I have The Train. there are also other cards and Images I have that other Lenormand don't, and vice versa, and at one point it had me wondering, Is this even real!?
I then took some time out the one afternoon to have a look through the companion book* and have a look at the tarot associations for the cards and came to the conclusion that my Lenormand are as real as the other decks out there. So there are a few differences (biggest being that mine don't tie in with playing cards, nor have any such symbolism, and the few card substitutions), but don't we have the same thing in tarot? Look at the Beast's Thoth tarot: instead of the Pages and Temperance, he has Princesses and Art. Why should it make his tarot any less real then what old Arthwaite went and made? For those who don't know, Arthwaite's Rider-Whaite-Smith tarot is a reimagining/corruption of the traditional "Marseilles-style" tarot, which itself is one derivation of the Visconti-Sfroza Tarot.
So, back to Lenormand: I'm now part of a Lenormand Card study group online - wow! That's all I'm saying on this right now anymore.
Touching on a subject I went on about last time, the wine shop at the Old Biscuit Mill (aptly named "Wine @ the Mill") had a selection of curries and stews that they served up as... BUNNY CHOW!! Would you believe, I go ten years without seeing a bunny chow and suddenly I see hundreds of the bedamned things in one week, on two separate occasions. it's so weird how things turn out....
On the topic of curry: my sister has had this craving for wraps for a long while, so Friday my mom decides, right, we're making rootis for supper. So, 5.00pm she's finished her class and had a shower and it's off to the brand new, simply GIGANTIC new Checkers that opened up on Sandown Road to get chicken, veggies and whatever else we might need for our chicken curry rootis. Ingredients bought, shop closing warning received, we make our way back home - and realise, just before Parklands Junction, that we don't have any wraps or rootis. Out of everything to have forgotten, we go and forget the ingredient that gives the meal its name.
Rush into Woolies - no, too pricey. And small. Rush all the way down Wood Drive (Friday evening traffic, please note) to Spar - also small,, but cheaper and good quality. At least, that's what we thought, until Zan and I actually worked out the number of rootis in the packets and relative "so much per rooti". It turns out, Woolies would have been the cheaper option with eight rootis for R35, whereas Spar were almost R30 for six...
Touching on "The Process" again, I'm on chapter 22 now. WOW! Again, WOW! I can't get over how amazing I'm finding the whole thing. One thing he said has been running and bouncing around in my head for the last two weeks, and it goes along the lines of, "Sitters come to us [divinators] because we fulfil a unique need in their lives. Yes, they can very easily and for the same price most professional readers charge go to a psychologist or counsellor, but they come to US, as readers. Why? I just spent a few minutes trying to put thoughts to words for the possible reasons, and you know what? I kept coming up blank. I think they come to us because they can. Make no mistake, there are a few that come for the mysticism and magic others, and some that come to us to hear the answers they want that maybe other people or circumstances in their lives aren't giving them; but, I personally think, for the most part they come to us because we can help them in a way most other people can't.
The cards are our tools. Runes, Lenormand, tarot, bones... they're all of them a way for the sitter to get an answer from us without us seeming as if we're shrinks. They can block out, forget for a moment, that we're also people, and ignore that we're interpreting the cards on their behalves. WE aren't the ones giving them advice or helping them with an issue. Its the cards doing all the work. We aren't even the ones doing all the talking, it's the voices of the cards making themselves heard. They can let themselves forget for a moment that so MUCH that goes into and comes out of a reading is what we see in the sitter, how s/he reacts, what s/he says. That's fine, you know. Our work as readers is to read our cards/stones/bones and conveying what we see to the sitter. Making him/her happy by being calm and doing our work is the most important thing we can do for him/her. Reading what we see and conveying it the best we can is simply an extension of that....
Blessed be!
In this time I've learnt that my Lenormand aren't quite what's been out there for a number of years. For instance, most decks have a card called The Ship - I have The Train. there are also other cards and Images I have that other Lenormand don't, and vice versa, and at one point it had me wondering, Is this even real!?
I then took some time out the one afternoon to have a look through the companion book* and have a look at the tarot associations for the cards and came to the conclusion that my Lenormand are as real as the other decks out there. So there are a few differences (biggest being that mine don't tie in with playing cards, nor have any such symbolism, and the few card substitutions), but don't we have the same thing in tarot? Look at the Beast's Thoth tarot: instead of the Pages and Temperance, he has Princesses and Art. Why should it make his tarot any less real then what old Arthwaite went and made? For those who don't know, Arthwaite's Rider-Whaite-Smith tarot is a reimagining/corruption of the traditional "Marseilles-style" tarot, which itself is one derivation of the Visconti-Sfroza Tarot.
So, back to Lenormand: I'm now part of a Lenormand Card study group online - wow! That's all I'm saying on this right now anymore.
Touching on a subject I went on about last time, the wine shop at the Old Biscuit Mill (aptly named "Wine @ the Mill") had a selection of curries and stews that they served up as... BUNNY CHOW!! Would you believe, I go ten years without seeing a bunny chow and suddenly I see hundreds of the bedamned things in one week, on two separate occasions. it's so weird how things turn out....
On the topic of curry: my sister has had this craving for wraps for a long while, so Friday my mom decides, right, we're making rootis for supper. So, 5.00pm she's finished her class and had a shower and it's off to the brand new, simply GIGANTIC new Checkers that opened up on Sandown Road to get chicken, veggies and whatever else we might need for our chicken curry rootis. Ingredients bought, shop closing warning received, we make our way back home - and realise, just before Parklands Junction, that we don't have any wraps or rootis. Out of everything to have forgotten, we go and forget the ingredient that gives the meal its name.
Rush into Woolies - no, too pricey. And small. Rush all the way down Wood Drive (Friday evening traffic, please note) to Spar - also small,, but cheaper and good quality. At least, that's what we thought, until Zan and I actually worked out the number of rootis in the packets and relative "so much per rooti". It turns out, Woolies would have been the cheaper option with eight rootis for R35, whereas Spar were almost R30 for six...
Touching on "The Process" again, I'm on chapter 22 now. WOW! Again, WOW! I can't get over how amazing I'm finding the whole thing. One thing he said has been running and bouncing around in my head for the last two weeks, and it goes along the lines of, "Sitters come to us [divinators] because we fulfil a unique need in their lives. Yes, they can very easily and for the same price most professional readers charge go to a psychologist or counsellor, but they come to US, as readers. Why? I just spent a few minutes trying to put thoughts to words for the possible reasons, and you know what? I kept coming up blank. I think they come to us because they can. Make no mistake, there are a few that come for the mysticism and magic others, and some that come to us to hear the answers they want that maybe other people or circumstances in their lives aren't giving them; but, I personally think, for the most part they come to us because we can help them in a way most other people can't.
The cards are our tools. Runes, Lenormand, tarot, bones... they're all of them a way for the sitter to get an answer from us without us seeming as if we're shrinks. They can block out, forget for a moment, that we're also people, and ignore that we're interpreting the cards on their behalves. WE aren't the ones giving them advice or helping them with an issue. Its the cards doing all the work. We aren't even the ones doing all the talking, it's the voices of the cards making themselves heard. They can let themselves forget for a moment that so MUCH that goes into and comes out of a reading is what we see in the sitter, how s/he reacts, what s/he says. That's fine, you know. Our work as readers is to read our cards/stones/bones and conveying what we see to the sitter. Making him/her happy by being calm and doing our work is the most important thing we can do for him/her. Reading what we see and conveying it the best we can is simply an extension of that....
Blessed be!
Thursday, 3 May 2012
Ooooh, baby! I found out someone actually reads these posts (^_^)
That said, anyone who really knows me knows I love food, even though I don't have the biggest repertoire of recipes or the greatest culinary imagination.
THAT said, anyone who truly knows me knows I love curries and pizza. On the topic of curry, Zan, Amma and I spent some of the day in Town looking for a pipe for P, as well as just walking around Shortmarket Street for a bit and popping into the Golden Acre Mall to see the ruins of the original reservoir. Nice little piece of history.
On the walk back up from Golden Acre we stopped, as we are wont to do, at a stall with shiny things. The stallholder's name is Myroenesa (may-rrho-nee-sah) and when asked for a suggestion for a lunch spot sent us to the Eastern Food Bazaar. That involved walking all the way BACK DOWN Shortmarket, crossing the road, and following the smell of curry to what we were told would be an Indian restaurant. Well, the smell of curry certainly led us to Indian food.
THAT said, anyone who truly knows me knows I love curries and pizza. On the topic of curry, Zan, Amma and I spent some of the day in Town looking for a pipe for P, as well as just walking around Shortmarket Street for a bit and popping into the Golden Acre Mall to see the ruins of the original reservoir. Nice little piece of history.
On the walk back up from Golden Acre we stopped, as we are wont to do, at a stall with shiny things. The stallholder's name is Myroenesa (may-rrho-nee-sah) and when asked for a suggestion for a lunch spot sent us to the Eastern Food Bazaar. That involved walking all the way BACK DOWN Shortmarket, crossing the road, and following the smell of curry to what we were told would be an Indian restaurant. Well, the smell of curry certainly led us to Indian food.
Bunny chow - Amma was rather surprised when she saw the men at the next table eating this. When she asked for a photo, he looked at her funny, but let her snap one anyway.
We all had the 405 from the Madras Dosa House: a Chicken Masala Dosa. It. Was. Stunning!! And so filling, too, that we all brought most of it home and had it for supper.
The menu for the Madras Dosa House. You order and pay at the far right end of the counter (out of shot - obviously), then hand the (apparently arrogant) Indian chef your slip for your order. In the silver bowl to the right (also out of shot) is a bowl of coconut chutney - amazing, but f***ing hot!
a) This is the nice gentleman that let Amma take the photo of his food.
b) The chandeliers are pretty, aren't they?
The whole bazaar was fitted into this one corridor in the... well, some building in Town. The decor was provided mostly by beautiful old Indian doors, with "typically" Indian music playing in the background. The whole feel of the place is one of relaxation and simply enjoying an incredible meal.
And this is Myroenesha. She gets full credit for the amazing lunch we had (^_^)
Lately I've been stuck on old, medieval / middle-aged instruments. Now, let it be known I can't play an instrument to save my life (I can barely hold three notes on a recorder), but I so badly would love to learn to play a citole. The reason for this is that I quite honestly find guitars, pianos and even Western-style violins overplayed. I don't find them as exciting as I did before, and since importing a Pipa isn't very financially viable (never mind getting new strings or finger plectra). With a citole, strings are made of the normal nylon/gut we use on classical guitars, and other types of gut strings are also easier to get hold of. As it is, a gentleman by the name of Paul Butler has greatly inspired me to at least try and make a citole. Also, having a guitarist and former instrument repairman in my life isn't hurting my chances of (at least partial) success.
Let's all hold thumbs and see what happens, eh?
On to tarot (my greatest love). I've been listening to Dan Pelletier's "The Process: The Way of the Tarot Reader" and can quite honestly say that it's only the second piece of tarot "literature" I've truly enjoyed, the first being Christine Jette's "Professional Tarot". As whacky as it sounds, his voice is comforting, and I can honestly say he regularly has me laughing at things that wouldn't make sense to other people. He makes you listen, even if you don't immediately absorb the information, and though the best idea is to sit and take notes, it's easy enough to listen to while you're busy and still be learning something. What's nice about it - since it isn't a paper-and-ink book - is that you can rewind something if you've missed it, and where you might sometimes not understand something written down, Mr Pelletier's voice immediately makes any meanings clear.
The entire audiobook starts with him speaking to "you" on the phone and making an appointment for noon the next day; from there, he takes "you" through rose-garden related activities and likens the tarot to his roses, people and experiences in his life. He often speaks of his friend Dutch and his cats.
As a teacher he is stern and to the point, but also funny and aware (constantly reminding "you", actually) that his path in the tarot isn't "your" path in the tarot. Besides constantly telling "you" to get rid of your LWB and giving you general tips and pointers in regards to the cards, he doesn't try and teach you meanings or how the cards "should" be read. All of this he leaves up to "you", and rather enjoys "shooting down", for (current) lack of a better description, authors and experts on the history and interpretations of the cards. One example that springs to mind is from the "Interpretations" section of the audiobook, where he quotes an author on his/her interpretation of the Empress in combination with three other cards: pregnancy, pregnancy, pregnancy (in summary). He shoots these "interpretations" down and justifies this by mentioning hysterectomies, barrennes and a lack of an active sex life.
The best way to experience this audiobook is to get hold of it for yourself.
All in all, "The Process: The Way of the Tarot Reader" is an incredible audiobook and well worth acquiring.
Blessed be!!
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