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How Does Divination Work?

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I pulled three ogham out of the leather pouch and laid them, one by one, onto the surface of my shrine. This divination would be the omen for all of the Solitary Druid Fellowship, a broad swatch of Pagandom that joined one another in a shared practice for the first time on the Winter Solstice. These three ogham would be the message for the whole lot.

Winter Solstice Omen

The ogham is a system of divination that still challenges me. I continue to rely on ogham experts to tell me what these little piece of wood mean. I don’t know them all by heart, either.

I’ll wait until the ritual is done to see what they mean, I thought. This felt like the right choice at the time, and I continued on with my personal observance of the High Day.

When the ritual was done, I sat at my desk. I opened my copy of The Solitary Druid to the page with the ogham chart. I got out the journal I use for my divination practice, and turned to a blank page.

There were three pre-written questions used in the SDF liturgy, and I copied them into the journal:

  1. How were my offerings received?
  2. How shall the Kindred respond?
  3. What more would you have me learn?

I found the ogham meanings on the chart, and copied them down as well.

  1. Fern (Alder):   Guidance
  2. Straif (Blackthorn): Trouble and Negativity    
  3. Ur (Heather): Healing & Homelands

 Oh, no.

Trouble and negativity? Really? Trouble and negativity?

I stood up from my desk. I looked at my shrine and the still-burning candles.

Perhaps I should do the ritual again, make more offerings, see if there’s a different omen.

But no, that wouldn’t make sense. The omen is for all of the group. What would one person’s extra offerings do to change the omen. And anyway, do I really believe that a few extra oats can change the minds of the gods? For that matter, do I believe their minds work like that? Do I think that the Kindred are that offering-hungry, or offering-dependent, or offering-influenced? Is that really how it works?

And why am I being so one-dimensional about “trouble and negativity?!”

All of these thoughts are racing in my head as I pace in front of my altar.

Then it hits me.

Photo by Danny Akright

This isn’t my omen to read.

These ogham were drawn for the entire group, and it’s up to the group to interpret it.

So yesterday, after all of the Fellowship had a change to observe the Solstice and share about their experiences on the SDF blog, I put up a new post. Imbedded within it was a Google Doc, and the solitaries of the Fellowship were all invited to help crowdsource the SDF omen.

The results have been pretty amazing. People who have no real connection to the ogham, or who don’t even see themselves as being skilled with divination, are offering their interpretations. And thanks to the cool tech that Google provides, some of this collaboration has been happening between multiple contributors in real time.

It’s super cool.

All of this has got me thinking about divination, though. When I read the tarot, a practice that is much more comfortable to me, I rarely (if ever) look at anyone else’s concordance of card meanings. I go with my gut, trusting my knowledge of the traditional meanings while holding that up against my impressions. It feels like a very natural, very organic way of reading.

I’m also not normally reading the cards as “the message of the Kinded,” or something like that. It’s my impression, my intuitive take. Sometimes the reading feels inspired, and the messages that come feel as thought they are not completely my own. But I never think of myself as a mouthpiece for the gods.

That would be kind of Pope-ish, wouldn’t it?

And yet, I approached the draw of the ogham with this sense of obligation to communicate the message of the Kindred to the Fellowship. That implies that there is one message, or that there is one correct answer, and I don’t believe that.

I wonder…

What if the questions we ask during a divinatory practice are simply designed to point our focus toward the divine, but the answers we receive have nothing to do with the questions? If we work from the idea that the Kindred, the divine in its multiplicity, are communicating with us, isn’t it possible – likely, even – that the messages we receive are designed to re-direct our focus away from the questions, away even from our preconceptions of the divine, toward….what? Ourselves? Each other? The world? Some holy task of being human?

What do you think divination really does? How would you describe its function and purpose? Is it a part of your practice? And if so, what do you think is going on during your divination? If it isn’t a part of your practice, why not?

Tell me —

How does divination work?

Awaking Me Loudly: Seduced By the Tarot

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Transformation is a slow process, and challenging to describe. Best to be on the lookout for that initial spark of change, and then follow it wherever it leads you.

The Chariot: The pursuit of the Divine is a series of sublimations; a refinement of the base; lead to gold.

– March 29th, 2009

The tarot has been an initiator of change for me on many occasion. In the early months of 2009, at a moment of transition for the public voice of Weiser Books, known on Facebook and Twitter as “Ankhie,” I took over a Twitter tradition which was first called #1card, and which grew under my watch into #amtarot and #pmtarot.

The work involved tweeting a single tarot card in the morning and evening which included the hashtag, and encouraging people to respond with their own tarot interpretation. I held on to the responsibility for months before handing it over to the amazing Theresa Reed, and the tradition continues to this very day. Being the steward of #amtarot and #pmtarot allowed me to build community on the internet for the first time. I began to understand the tarot as a key to unlocking our own skills of inner knowing.

And, I fell in love with the cards.

The tweets have long since been lost in the annals of Twitter, and I’m not sure how to retrieve them. But I was smart enough to print out several pages of my interpretations, and I’ve kept them on a bookshelf alongside my decks and tarot books. Looking back on them now, I’m amazed the succinctness of the language. Tweeting a tarot interpretation is very different from the long-form explanation one might give in a face-to-face reading. You’re seeking to reduce the card down to its essence; at least, whatever essence might look like to you in that moment.

Seven of Cups: When there is no map, when no device can discern the direction in which to walk, look inward.

March 22nd, 2009

I learned something about myself through these daily interpretations, and I began to develop a deeper relationship with my spirit again. The tarot encouraged me to look inward, as well as at the world around me, with the eyes of a mystic. Rational thinking, practicality and good sense, while useful in business, had become barriers to my own sense of wonder. The tarot allowed me to return to a state of mystery.

I’m saddened that people fear the tarot. I feel like they’re missing out on something truly great. I’m not a prognosticator, nor do I believe that I have the answers to all questions. I do believe, however, that there is beauty in reaching for the answers. There is poetry in the act of interpretation; in the seeking of meaning in the abstract.

The Hanged Man (XII): That which appears to bind you may turn out to be the instrument of your freedom.

March 12th, 2009

There is no need to fear the symbolism of the tarot, any more than there is to fear the symbolism inherent in language itself. Symbols are tools, and the tarot is but a tool to open one’s self to broader thinking. Reading the cards can be an experience of deep inhalation; an expansion of the mind and the soul.

This is all on my mind right now because tomorrow I begin a new adventure: giving tarot readings at my local metaphysical bookstore. This is the first time I’ve ever opened myself up to giving readings for the public, outside of my Twitter interpretations. As with my claimed name, this endeavor is an outward expression of an ongoing inner change.

Ten of Wands: Reinvention is to the artist what tilling the soil is to the farmer; rich darkness brought into light.

March 21st, 2009

I approach my reading table with a humble heart, and look forward to the first person who walks through my door. I don’t promise answers to every question, or solutions to every problem. But, as with this blog, I will seek to engage whoever comes for a reading in a deep dialogue about the substance of our lives. I will encourage her to look inward, and to seek out the hidden narratives of her heart. I will allow the tarot to continue to be a tool for transformation, hopefully for the both of us.

I’m curious – what is your relationship to divination? Do you incorporate it into your daily practice? Are you a professional reader? Have you had positive or negative experiences with the tarot? If you’ve found your life enriched or changed by a divinatory practice, please share that in the comment section.

(And, if you’re in Englewood, Colorado on Monday afternoons, feel free to come by Isis Books and pay me a visit!)