It was a slow and confusing start around the Burrow today. Empress came by with Max, but he wouldn’t sit still for a nice portrait shot, instead you have to look at him as he looks at the floor.
I know how he was feeling, some days you just sit in a chair and wait for the next thing to come along. In his case it was a huge black police dog, but still, we all have moments like this.
There was another piece in the guidebook from that new Crystal Oracle deck I wanted to share here. It’s an interesting topic, one that has come up for me as well. I really like how he explains this subject.
“I often get feedback from people who have used my oracle cards telling me how accurate a message was for them, inferring that I have some kind of magical power that gives them the answer to their questions. However flattering this may be, it is simply not the case. As I have explained so many times before, it is not the creator of an oracle set that has the power of prophecy but the individual user. Each time you pick a card, you are intuitively guided by your own energy field to pick the most appropriate card for you at that exact moment. It is your soul which, through the medium of the oracle, helps you see, hear, or feel that which will be of greatest benefit for you at that time.”
It’s like me being the radio, here or when I read cards for someone. The tuning in is the key. Any time anyone has a deck of cards, a pendulum, or any other divinatory device/method in their hands, they are opening up to that channel on their own radio. Some of us just have nicely pre-set stations that come in quickly. It takes time and energy to find the stations, and get the messages through a clear channel, but we all have the basic gear to listen, or pick up, what is being broadcast.
Our card today is from that funny little deck called The Celtic Shaman’s Pack, and it reminded me of this today. Our talents and our strengths are all so very individual, as are we. But when we share those skills, the ones that come easily to us, the ones we are drawn to, it helps everyone in our lives. We share the power and it deepens, it grows by the very act of spreading it around. The more we give, the more we get back.
“The Stag ~ Strength.
A great stag looks out from the picture. Behind it is an ancient stone painted with images of the ancestors. A second stone is at its feet showing a sacred circle of twelve directions. A globe of light is caught in its horns, on which is depicted an ancient symbol of the stag.
In Celtic tradition the stag always represents strength, virility, and the freedom of the woods. The Stag is a powerful ally to have when journeying into the depths of the otherworld or in facing some problem which requires particular strength and stamina. The symbolism of the hunt is also important here and may be seen as perhaps representing a sequence of death and rebirth.
Journey: travel to the forest and there, amid the great trees, meet with the Stag, who invites you to mount upon his back and ride with him through the woodland to the place where he may impart his knowledge and wisdom to you.”
You may have noticed that we are still in the virility mode here too. An aspect of nature that is kind of all around us, it being full on spring and everything (or so the calendar tells us). This was made abundantly clear to me when I was driving to see Skye last week. ”Nature” -it’s just freaking EVERYwhere. As much as I hate to admit this, I DO know that there are things beyond my control. Traveling along at high speeds (or as high a speed as my Wee Walnut is capable of) on a dark rural highway has its hazards. Gawdamn virile nature is just one of them.
As I tootled along, I had the image of a deer in my mind, and I thought, “uh yeah, please… let’s not HIT a deer tonight, ‘kay?!” Not a mile down the road I came in to a long curved turn, and sure enough, at the very sharpest point in the corner, there were the deer. A nice huge clump of them, mostly in my way. I am a pretty careful driver in circumstances like this, and since it was a route that was unfamiliar to me, I was being extr-y aware and careful. Even so, one very small deer could have done a huge amount of damage.
There were no cars coming in the other direction, and the nice deers stood safely still while I went around them. My anxiety shot through the roof, but as I kept going, I distinctly remembered the Dr Jill trick of 90 seconds. I allowed the physical manifestations of “holy freaking crap!” fear to wash over me, then I distracted my mind by punching the CD player so that it started a new song. (I was listening to the Michael Franti music Tracy gave me the entire trip over there, it must have played through that album about six times.)
This evening, as I went over the small hills in my neighborhood, there were two fawns and a mama crossing the street. I waited for them, and the guy on a bike who was coming up in the other direction slowed down too. We both smiled and waved, acknowledging how lucky we were to live in this area, and get to see stuff like this so close to home. (I know he lives around here because I’ve seen him before.) I don’t know what else he was thinking, but I was also feeling very grateful that the deer in my life are so politely well behaved as to not bash in to me. And just show up when I need them to. Giving me gentle, but strong reminders, and lessons that don’t actually hurt.