So far 2020 has proved to be the year of major shakes and awakenings to the higher orders of things. Judgment day, indeed, twice over. 2020. Apart from the number 20, we also have the number 2 represented twice here, so we can say this is also the year of the Popess, being twice as smart. At the start of the year, some in the occult world jumped at the Emperor idea, 2+2=4, but I rejected this notion for obvious reasons. If we accept that the card numbered 20 is symbolic of Judgment day, when the Angel makes big announcements that are quite beyond anyone’s control, then we can’t at the same time impose the idea of controlled power here, no matter how big an effort we make in stretching the logic elastic. In other words, what 2020 has been about so far, on the general scale, is more like being aware of the consequences of not having any power. Hence the marching, demonstrating against the established power orders, and demanding change.
I live in Denmark, in a country currently run by a socialist woman, who is both competent and strong in her dealing with the idiotic opposition run mostly by men who understand nothing. But I see what’s happening around, particularly in the US and the UK. This morning over coffee I made this remark to my partner: ‘it’s all about dealing, or rather actually not dealing, with the consequences of imperialism. It’s still looming over us. Let us be done with it, once and for all.’
But who is going to lead us? 2020 is not the year of the Emperor, controlling the land and the people with common-sense and calculated compassion. If a sense of power prevails over our heads, it’s purely symbolic, conceptual, not real.
The words, ‘just step up to it,’ the power, are powerful alright, but are they also real? They aren’t when we see that in actuality, there’s no grounding of the purported power. Stepping up to something requires a solid platform. Where is it? No one lands it, the power, as far as I can see. It’s all up in the air. Hot balloons.
I left the university world 3 years ago. My decision was informed by accepting the sad truth that, as a woman academic, I wasn’t going to have the opportunity to actually wield the power conferred onto me on paper. My power was on paper alone. I made no impact. To the outside world my consecrations would easily elicit exclamation marks: ‘wow, you did all this!’ and there were times when I’d run with the flattering and self-flattering program. But is there ever any real power in proclamations? Sadly, I’m too Zen for this.
‘More women should write,’ the academic world demanded, while going ahead and publishing more men. Men writing about women too. Ah well. Over in the occult world, the same applies: ‘more women should write,’ the proclamations go, and then all we get to see is more men writing.
Women are writing, but there’s little power in it, when this writing is not in all actuality recognized. We worship hot goddesses that relish their holy whoredom – men’s label – but when are we going to see the hot goddesses stop indulging in flattery? When will they do something for women, in all actuality? I have a quarrel with power that’s in the name only. I’m too Zen for that shit. I do my best to remedy the situation. I publish three books a year. My books are loved and read. My books are also hated, especially when they’re not read. This I can tell from the occasional nasty comment, that not much has been read or understood. I keep going. From EyeCorner Press the following books are out and in the pipeline: Tarot Tracings was out in June. The omnibus edition, The Power of the Trumps and Pips, collating two books along with new material extending on method, was out yesterday. The Heart Sutra and Tarot and The Childless Witch are out by the end of the year. A good year for words.
I write for myself and strangers. I write about cards and how we use them in crass times, from experiencing the loss of love to lamenting the loss of power, invisibility, and putting up with claims to recognition that are not sincerely given.
Let’s just say that I’m onboard with 2020, for all that it brings. I cheer for the smashing of many establishments. I read my cards not for questions under the modal expression: ‘Should I, could I, would I?’ I read the cards with view to getting a window into what concrete action I can engage with. I don’t give in to the apocalypse narratives. Rather, I have a distaste for it. I’m too Zen for the apocalypse. I like to say that every day is the apocalypse. What’s new here? ‘Nothing is new here, my partner tells me, while I review the state of the world under the lush fumes coming out of my Turkish coffee. ‘Just the reinvention of the prune, poor prune.’ I almost chocked. I laughed so hard at the ‘poor prune.’ ‘Mars is going retrograde, get ready.’ ‘War is coming and Trump will not let go.’ ‘People lose their money, while the banks get fat.’ ‘The hot goddesses speak in an amplified voice’ – about hot balloons, as far as I can see.
Each of these statements in its context is true. The times are always crass. ‘There’s nothing new under the Sun,’ said Solomon, a wisdom he inherited from his mother, I presume, but then she didn’t write anything, so we don’t know. Or maybe she did, but then her writing fell on promises and nothing more.
Use your cards in crass times to ask about your attitude in the world. If you don’t have clarity about your position, then ask: ‘what is my best asset that I can bank on to bring change in my world?’ Don’t say, ‘the world,’ because you’re not in charge, and it’s best to stay away from the illusion that you can make any change in the world. The only place you can make a change in is precisely your world. Just your world.
Ask the cards about what this world of yours is to begin with. What does it look like, in actuality, not on paper, in proclamation or false self-empowerments? Self-flattery is not your world. It’s a world of insecurity where the aim is to please others. Don’t please others. Please yourself. But make sure you know exactly why, otherwise this type of pleasing ends in a form of foolish stubbornness and entitlement devoid of discernment.
I asked my own cards about it. How apt again:
The Tower, the World, Death
As I said, I’m down with 2020. Smashing bricks to the left. To the right, essentializing to the bones.
Some would say, tough cards. But I tend to not use modifiers when I read the cards. Nothing is tough. Nothing is easy. Everything is as it is. I’m ready again to do what I’m good at. Smash bricks and illusions, and swing the swords. The Marseille Tarot Foundation Course is open again for registration. Over a hundred people have already signed up in just a day and a half. The word is out that this is good. Well, the word has been out for some time now, and it pleases me to see that there’s a consistent demand for my teachings and writings. Thank you to all. I like to disturb. Sincerely.
Speaking of books and publishing women. Award winning writer Erin Clark’s memoir with EyeCorner Press is also out. If you really love me, throw me off the mountain, has everything in it, everything that matters, that is: a disabled body paragliding, love that’s crushed and crushing, travel adventures, words that move, and beauty that exceeds even that of a hot goddess. We’re here to serve, and you’re welcome.
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