Thoughts. Ramblings. Notes on history. A generous sprinkling of tarot.
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Notebooks.
This little blog is just a place to keep track of my historical forays, developing tarot practice, thoughts on the craft of writing and teaching, observations, foraging adventures, book reviews, or general notes for myself and friends on various types of practice and little tidbits that catch my eye. Whether you’re just curious or looking for some ideas for your own practices, I hope readers will find something of value!
Unfurling
It’s the time of year that the ocotillo should be blooming, like fiery, lanky torches erupting from the desert. In the stark landscape, they beckon with their flamboyant burst of color, and if you keep a sharp eye out, you can see tiny hummingbirds dipping in and out of the trumpet-shaped flowers. One could be forgiven for getting lost in the aerial displays and missing the plants’ formidable thorns hiding under the stumpy leaves. Like most things in Texas, their spindly awkwardness and vibrant cheer are deceptive. So, too, the light touch of the hummingbird, disguising the deftness and skill of his maneuvers behind what looks like gentle effortlessness. To enjoy the ocotillo’s sweeter side takes a healthy respect for its edges along with a delicate touch.
Ancestral Work: Getting a Second Opinion
When I do ancestral work, I generally use a combination of tarot cards and pendulums for connecting with ancestors. I have one pendulum that I use for working with my own ancestors, and a separate pendulum that I use for working with other people’s. During this reading, my friend’s ancestors gave some advice that struck me as a little “off.” It wasn’t bad, per se, but it reflected something that she has been working through for a while — namely, that several of her ancestors had a lot of earthly power and accrued some karmic debt on account of that power.
Attention as a Blessing
If, as I have said, writing is magic, then it is also true that reading is magic. Writing cannot do its work by itself. That would be like saying that leading a horse to water is the same thing as making it drink.
Living in Interesting Times
The present moment is one of those that brings to mind the apocryphal curse “may you live in interesting times.” We don’t entirely know whether this was a real historical curse or something invented by a modern mind and falsely attributed to a mystical ancient wise man. Origins aside, though, the premise rings true enough that most people are able to accept the sentiment for what it is regardless of the source.
I’ve found myself thinking about this a lot lately for obvious reasons, but I wanted to sit and think about it in a more sustained way through writing. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: writing is a form of meditation. And it is a magical practice. It can help give shape to formless thoughts by finding the edges and currents running through vague intuitions. It can find connections between different things and bring them together so that they have meaning. And then it helps sharpen, weave, whittle, and channel them into something distinct.
Writing as Honest Work
The benefits to approaching writing as a craft and not simply a final, black box of a product can’t be overstated. Not only do students learn how to incorporate feedback, take pride in their work and accomplishments, sharpen their thinking skills, and improve their own writing, but they also come to appreciate the ways that writing is crafted to do things. This makes them more attentive and savvy readers, ones who become more capable of spotting the ways that what they read has been intentionally designed to have effects on them. And that makes them more capable of deciding whether they want to say yes or no to the media they consume.