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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?

Remembering to Remember

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We don’t know how to relate to one another.

Foggy vision

By Emmaline

This became evident by the end of my first day of tarot readings at Isis Books. We don’t really know how to be in relationships, which is interesting to me because we are in relationships. Our lives are chalk-full of relationships. Yet, somehow, they remain a great mystery to us.

People who come for readings (a first observation) are seeking clarify on what to do, not what to think or believe. They want to know how to handle matters of love, of lust, of codependence. They want advice on how to move forward, but all I feel fit to give them is greater clarity on where they are in this moment.

There’s no sense in getting advice about what to do if you don’t understand why you would be doing it. I can’t imagine changing my own behavior, and having that change take root, without undergoing a process of deep reflection and discernment. How could I offer someone else advice that I wouldn’t, myself, feel comfortable in taking?

Interestingly (to me, at least), there was very little concern expressed about the nature of the cosmos during any of my readings. There wasn’t a yearning for some deeper esoteric knowledge, for a dialogue about the Gods, or God, or the lack of deity. There was none of that. It was, predominately, a question of: How do I do this love thing?

apotheosis of the Lovers (channel 4, deal 1, trick J)

apotheosis of the Lovers, By Kevin Hutchins

It was all about love. I’ve heard that this is common in intuitive readings, and I find that very interesting.

I think of intuitive readings as spirit work in the same way that I think of massages as body work. I wouldn’t go to a massage therapist with the intention of better understanding someone else’s body, and yet people seek out readings with the hope of understanding their lover, their spouse, the object of their greatest desire. I found myself on several occasions yesterday expressing that the right question was being asked to the wrong person.

I’ve written that I feel my writing is a kind of ministry for me, as much a way of reaching out as reaching in. As I begin exploring what it means to give readings for other people, I’m forced to look closer at what kind of service I can provide them. Yesterday, it occurred to me that the work of giving intuitive readings borders very close to therapy – uncomfortably close in some moments.

I don’t think readers should behave as therapists unless they’re legitimately qualified to do so. But I think the lines are blurry for the person seeking a reading. Twice yesterday I brought up to a client that it might be useful for them to seek out someone else – a therapist or counselor – who could provide them with some ongoing support. This seemed like the only responsible thing to do.

I seek counsel, most often from my husband. I read him this post up until this point, expressing concern that this subject might not be relevant to anyone other than me. I was uncertain if the ideas would engage people, or initiate dialogue.

“That’s funny,” he said to me.

“Why?”

“Well, look at your first line.”

We don’t know how to relate to one another.

Ah.

For a moment I forgot how to relate to you, the person reading these words.

Remember remember by KayVee.INC

This happens from time to time. There’s a sense of doubt that creeps in, and it clouds my vision and allows me to forget what it feels like to be in relationship with you. I forget how to write, just as she forgets how to love, he forgets how to communicate, we forget how to be supportive of one another. All of these are the same, in a way.

The truth may be that we do know how to relate to one another, we just forget from time to time. On occasion, we have the opportunity to remind each other of that fact, and, by doing so, to remind ourselves. Maybe that’s what giving readings offers; an opportunity to remember how to love, to remember how to relate, to remember how to be in communion with one another.

Does this resonate with you? Do these ideas of forgetting and remembering make sense, and if so, have you had experiences of remembering that you’d feel comfortable sharing?

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!)

A Weiser Win, and a Welcome To New Readers

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This morning I received a sweet note in my Facebook inbox from “Ankhie”, the Weiser Books web guru. She wrote to inform me that my post, “In the beginning, there was Weiser…” was selected as the winner of the Weiser Books 100th Blog Post Challenge.

Ah, sweet victory. I do love it so…

🙂

In all seriousness, this was more than just a contest win for me. It was an affirmation that the writing I do, and have done for several years now, either here at Bishop In The Grove or at my former blog, The Epiphanic Oath, is worth reading. As much as I’m going to enjoy digging through the Weiser Conside Guides to Alchemy, Yoga for Magick, Herbal Magick, Practical Astrology and Aleister Crowley — and believe me, I will — I feel that this message from Weiser was the real prize.

So, if you’re new to this blog, have a look around. If you like what you read, subscribe to my feed. This site was created, primarily, to be a record of my progress through the Dedicant Year for Ár nDraíocht Féin, A Druid Fellowship, of which I am currently a member. There are entries about my personal experiences in mediation and ritual, as well as musings about what it means to be forging a path as a Pagan in today’s world. If you’re interested in reading more about the community building that I spoke of in my winning Weiser post, browse through the archives at The Epiphanic Oath. You’ll see the posts about Kissing The Limitless, as well as a whole host of entries on the Tarot with card illustrations by the terrifically talented artist, Robert Place.

You can contact me through the site, or feel free to visit my page on Facebook or Twitter. And, if you read something here that sparks your imagination, please post a comment of your own. I look forward to hearing new voices!

Peace to all who read these words!

Teo

On Meditation and Devotion: Weeks 7, 8, and 9

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Week 7

On the night after I wrote my last Meditation and Devotion post I became very sick. I’d just written how my daily practice had become a central part of my life, and then I was bedridden for days; unable to maintain my normal routine.

I lost about 3 days of meditation and devotion, and when I returned on February 12th, still a bit stoned from Nyquil, I felt completely shaken and unable to focus. I described it like this in my journal:

“…it felt as though there was a kind of hood over my inner eye. I felt like my inner vision was blocked off along the edges.”

The low energy and sinus pain continued on the following day, and things began to clear up on February 14th. That was also the day that I noticed that, as I put it,

“The trance-like intensity of my daily devotions and meditations has waned. Given, I am no longer in the thick of an intense creative process – or, at least, not the same creative process – but it is strange to me the way this is starting to feel ‘ordinary’.”

I was forced, due to the illness, to cancel a very important event in my life; what felt like, at the time, the culmination of much of the creative work I’ve done so far this year. On that day, February 16th, I was wrecked. I rushed through making offerings, drew cards but couldn’t see any meaning in them, and then closed the Hallows without offering thanks to Brighid and the Kindred. I was so upset that the illness had disrupted my life as it had.

Week 8

What brought me back into a pattern of meditation and devotion was the tarot. I put my focus on the spreads I’d lay after making my offerings, and those spreads began to show more sign that they were coming from the Kindred; they offered new insight, creating greater context for why I’d become ill and what I had to learn from the experience.

All of my entries during this week are heavy on the tarot interpretation. I focussed little on stillness in meditation, and went through the ritual of making offerings with a slight mechanical nature. The cards were my main focus, and they were what brought me back into an awareness of the mystery of this daily work.

Week 9

I reached a point where I was beginning to feel like my practice was solely a tarot practice, and not an extension of worship. I wrote on February 25th:

I’m having a difficult time starting this entry. I have a 3 card spread before me, and this is beginning to feel like a Tarot Journal rather than a journal to document my spiritual growth. Every day I perform my devotional ritual, and every day I sit down to draw cards. I ask the Kindred to guide my hands and send a message, and yet as I sit here now, staring at the cards, reading their interpretations in the DruidCraft book, I feel alone, and very much in my head. The rest of the experience feels spiritual, but trying to make sense of the cards launches me into a mental tailspin.

What is this time designed to do?

What had given me an entry way back into this daily time – the tarot – was now pulling me out of the moment.

I notice as I look back on the rest of the Week 9 entries that I’ve created a pattern of documenting my daily time. Each entry starts with 1 or 2 paragraphs of reflection. Then, usually somewhat abruptly, I write about the card reading. The rest of the entry is about the cards, and I don’t seem to spend much time contextualizing them or connecting them back to my initial reflection.

I tried that this morning, and I noticed that my mind went to a million different places. I think it is time for me to return to the DP material and search out techniques to control my mind. It’s time to bring more mental discipline into my practice.

A Response to “Omens and Tarot”

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This post is a response to the blog post “Omens and Tarot“, posted yesterday on Grey Wren’s Flight. I encourage you to read the full post for context, and I’ve provided a brief excerpt below which summarizes what she wrote.

“I’ve been incorporating omens into my devotionals lately, partly because I’ve been wanting to take my spiritual work to the next level, and partly because I have so many beautiful tarot decks that need love. (I’m such a little kid, wanting to play with my toys.)

The short version of this post: how do you take omens during a ritual?

What’s the best way to take omens? It must vary from person to person, but how does one find a method and feel confident that it’s working? Any thoughts?”

I’m delighted to read the you’re incorporating the tarot into your daily work, especially if you already have a relationship with the cards. I also use (as one of 2 or 3 regular decks) the DruidCraft Tarot, and I know exactly the image you’re speaking of.

For me, I’ve chosen to use the cards in a slightly different way. After making my offerings, I ask of the Kindred something like:

“If my offerings are acceptable to you, please provide me a point of focus, a message of guidance, an Omen.”

Then, I work with the cards. I may lay out a single card, or a three card spread. I have an Ogham deck, and I may choose to use that over the more visual, narrative cards. I allow the spread to be guided by my intuition.

I also may change my request of the Kindred to suit my needs at that moment. Today, my request was that they provide me insight into the story, song and poem that I’m preparing for the Bardic Chair competition at Wellspring. When I sat down at my tarot table, I chose to pull one card from 3 different decks – the DruidCraft, the Llewellyn Tarot and the Ogham Deck (something I’d never done before). The message that came forth was amazing!

This may not be strict ADF or PIE orthopraxy, but to me it feels right. I don’t just want to know if my offerings were accepted or acceptable, because I don’t think that all the Kindred want from me are some oats and a bit of oil. This is a relationship, and the offerings, in large part, are symbolic of something much deeper. I make these offerings so that I might initiate contact with forces that are greater and more powerful than myself. The objects I use are – I think – mostly arbitrary. It is the sincerity with which I share these object – these symbols – and the focus and intent with which I hold them up in worship that matters most.

I believe we should make offerings that feel right to us, and make requests of the Kindred as our needs and desires dictate. If, by Their wisdom, they do not see fit to provide us with exactly what we are asking, it seems to me that we need not take that as an immediate sign that our offerings weren’t “good enough”. It could be that our requests were simply not coming from the place of true need or right desire (if I might risk sounding moralistic by using that phrase).

So, use the tarot as feels best to you. Or, seek out their Omen in the clouds…or in the pattern of your coffee grounds! Or, perhaps best of all, still your soul and listen for the sound of their voices in the sanctuary of your heart.

The Kindred Speak Through the Tarot

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I don’t normally share the details of my daily meditation outside of one of my weekly recaps. But today, in light of the power and poignancy of the experience I just had, I’m making an exception.

I started the devotional with the Two Powers meditation. I was a tree, the greatest tree ever to stand, and I pulled the water from the ground, through my roots, into my being. I felt the sun above me, and I felt the heat pour into me. The two powers mixed in the middle, and my tree-body tingled. I was ready to begin.

Each day when I approach my altar, I call out to Arawn, Welsh god of the Underworld, and ask him to join his magic with mine. With our magic joined, I ask for him to: take the candle flame and transform it, that it may become the Sacred Fire, the gateway to the Heavens; take the chalice of water and transform it, that it may become the Sacred Well, the gateway to the Otherworld; take the wand made of wood and transform it, that it may become the Sacred, World tree, connecting the Heavens and the Otherworld, standing as a gateway in the Middle Earth.

Once the gates are opened, I make my offerings to the Kindred. Typically, those are olive oil for the Shining Ones, oats for the Ancestors, & sugar for the Nature Spirits. Then, with a special candle lit, I offer up my heart to Brighid as a living sacrifice of my praise & thanksgiving, my respect and honor, my love and worship. I save her offering for last.

For a while now I’ve been heading straight to my tarot table after all of my offerings are made. Today, though, I did something different. I stood before my altar, still very much in the same space I’d been in during offerings, and I spoke out loud a request to the Kindred. I asked for their assistance as I shuffled the cards. I asked that they provide me guidance and direction, a clear point of focus, an Omen. Usually, I’d ask this after I sat down at my table, and I’d have to re-center before I did it. Today I never lost that center. My request came directly after offerings were made, and I think that may have had an impact on what happened next.

I shuffled the cards, just as I explained in the recap of Weeks 5 & 6, and I cut the three times. Then, it happened:

Two of Swords   |   Two of Cups   |   Two of Pentacles

Three 2’s!?

Somehow I knew after the second 2 that I would pull the third. Three 2’s. This is not ordinary. And, I’ve been pulling some of the same cards in every spread lately, which I take as a sign to me of one or more themes running constant through my life. But none of those cards weren’t present today. Today I was shown a different kind of message.

I read 2’s as cards representing choice. Interestingly, the only 2 not represented in this spread is the 2 of Wands, a suit most closely associated with Will, or making choices. There was no clear choice to be made; there was only the message given that I am moving into a climate of choice, and that I need to remain aware and alert.

I must be willing to suspend my intellect and trust my intuition (2 of Swords). I must remember that I have already chosen to be in the relationships I’m in, and now it is a matter of the heart whether or not I choose to experience the positive or negative aspects of those relationships (2 of Cups). I must maintain my balance, be clever and cunning, and – even as I stand amidst a raging storm – be light on my feet (2 of Pentacles).

This Omen was a true blessings from the Kindred. I just had to share it.

On Meditation and Devotion: Week 4

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Week 4 of my daily meditation and devotion was Omen-centered. My creative work was consuming much of my time, and I sought guidance daily. I wrote on January 19th:

Throughout this two week period [referring to a 2 week creative project I was in the middle of], I’ve been given guidance from the Kindred. The Omens, or as I understand them, the Points of Focus, have been quite useful reminders and guiding posts throughout the work days.

Examples of the questions or statements I have posed to the Kindred and the Omens I have received are:

1/19/11

Q: What is my challenge?

A. The Tower.

Meaning: You are blessed with Awen. Fury may preceded grace, destruction may precede creation. The work of liberation, deepening and illumination progress.

1/20/11

Q. Why change decks? [A question I posed when I felt that I needed to switch from using the DruidCraft Tarot Deck to the Llewellyn Tarot Deck, a Welsh centered deck]

A. 10 of Wands, The Moon, Three of Cups.

Meaning: You are coming home. Home to the place where your intuition is a force, and where magic is born. These cards will aid you in your learning. Enjoy the experience.

Mid-week, I had an unexpected brush with an Ancestor, which I wrote about in this post. It gave me pause to consider whether or not I was moving faster than I should in my daily work. After approaching the Kindred, as well as communicating with a few ADF members, I found that there is nothing wrong with a daily practice — “slowing down” doesn’t mean changing the routine, or abandoning it altogether. It may simply mean, “lighten up”. There isn’t a need for every devotional to be performed with the intensity of a High Day ritual. After all, that’s what High Day rituals are for, right?

On January 24th, I made an intuitive decision to use the Ogham Card deck for an Omen. The card was Nuin (Ash). The book read:

Your deeds are part of a far greater, even endless, chain of events, and your own inner pathways have their reaction in the outer world.

This message was deeply connected to my meditation for that morning, and proved a very useful reminder throughout the day.

I’m not sure that the Celtic Tree Oracle would stand up to ADF’s academic standards, and I know there are some who outright dismiss the idea of a Tree Calendar (including ADF’s founder, Issac Bonewitz – read this). But, this feels like a good introduction to the Ogham, even if the historicity is questionable. At some point soon I would like to acquire, or better yet fashion my own set out of wood.

Turning Over A Good Omen

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I started a new creative project today. It’s one I’ve been preparing for since November of last year, and one that will influence much of what is to come throughout the rest of the Winter. It’s kind of a big deal.

I decided that it would be right and good to make special requests to the Kindred during my morning devotional for their guidance, wisdom and presence as I start down this new path. I put my essence into the offerings, opening myself as much as I could.

Once my offerings had been made, and it seemed like I was finished, I started to close the Hallows. I called on Arawn to transform the Fire, and then the Well, and as I was about to move on to the Tree my hand brushed up against the candle – something that has never happened before during ritual – and hot wax splashed onto my palm.

This didn’t seem like clumsiness. It seemed like a message. It seemed like a call to keep the sacred space open. I sensed that I should return to a place where I could be receptive to communication, and listen. It did not seem like they were done with me just yet.

So, I stopped what I was doing. Recalling what I’ve learned through reading about ADF ritual, and what I’ve experienced first had in full, High Day ritual with Silver Branch Golden Horn, I decided that it would be appropriate and useful to take an Omen. This isn’t something I’d incorporated into my daily practice before, but today it seemed right. If the Kindred wanted this space to remain open, then perhaps they wanted to convey something to me, and the taking of an Omen might help that message come through.

I sat down at the round table I use for tarot readings, lit a small, mostly melted candle, and shuffled my deck. I laid the deck down, asked out loud if my offerings would be accepted, and then I turned over a single card.

It was the Princess of Wands.

She stood in the middle of a road, clearly moving forward. She was fiery, focussed, and she seemed beautifully self possessed. These were, of course, my first impressions. I pulled the DruidCraft book from my shelf and found the page corresponding to this card. At times, I find it useful to see what the artists intended for this card to represent, and to hold that meaning up against my initial, intuitive reading.

The book read this:

When not signifying a person, this card may represent the initial spark of interest in a project or a relationship, or it can indicate a message or communication, particularly one conveying news about the beginning of a venture. It may also indicate a general quickening of the pace of life – a new phase of activity just starting.

Could this have been any clearer that my words had been heard?!

I asked for a sign that my sacrifices were acceptable to the Kindred, and I received a clear and resounding message back – YES! They would be with me! It felt like communication. Real communication.

Today was brilliant. I felt the presence of the Kindred as I began my creative work, and I’m profoundly grateful.

Make your offerings with sincerity.

Open your heart fully and without reservation.

Be transparent and the light will shine through you.