Turning Things Around: The Inner Tarot Revolution Chapter 32
War Eternal
Happy Thursday, everyone!
In my Easter post, The Rising Tide, I once more made reference to an ongoing magic(k)al/spiritual “war,” and to the role of both the Word of Hermekate and its associated principle of the “Song” as being “weapons” in this war. I also mentioned the multifaceted ways in which the symbol of the chariot is closely associated with Hermekate.
Interestingly, there is one other major place where a whole lot of very similar symbolism comes together: The Bhagavad Gita, one of the best-known sacred texts associated with Hinduism. The “Gita” is the story of a dialogue taking place between Arjuna, one of the key warriors in the Kurukshetra War (the same war described in the Mahabharata), and Lord Krishna, an avatar of the great god Vishnu. Arjuna, being a son of the god Indra, is himself semi-divine. Krishna counsels him because he is overcome with the moral implications of taking part in such a great battle; in light of his concerns, he is considering renouncing the battle. The two hold their discussion within Arjuna’s own war chariot. Among the topics addressed by Krishna include the relationship of the individual self (Atman) to the aspect of the supreme Self (Brahman) within each being, and the entire scenario of the battle in which the dialogue is situated is often interpreted as an allegory for the spiritual struggles faced by all of us; the entire context, rather than representing any particular external war, represents internal spiritual conflict. In the end, Krishna ends up advising Arjuna that far from being morally questionable, it is indeed his “dharma”— his spiritual and karmic duty—to take up arms.
Interestingly, with regard to the Word of Hermekate, which holds the dual aspects of “Word” and “Song”—the “Gita” in “Bhagavad Gita” means “Song of God,” whereas the title as a whole is often translated as "Word of God.” When the principle of the Song as an aspect of the Word of Hermekate was first revealed to me, I was not aware of this etymology.
I thought I would devote this chapter of Inner Tarot Revolution to further developing these concepts because frankly, this week’s Sun Card and Shadow Card both lend themselves to it. I wasn’t necessarily itching to write this post just yet, but there’s one key factor motivating me to get past these two cards and come nearer to completion of this series: The upcoming total solar eclipse that will be visible from a large portion of the United States. Given the astrological aspects of the eclipse, this chapter’s cards and the themes I plan to explore are a very strong thematic fit, so I wanted to get this post written in the lead-up to the eclipse itself. On top of that, I’m frankly champing at the bit to see what the next two cards turn out to be; I’ve just got a gut feeling that they’re going to resonate strongly with the eclipse (I’ve been good and have not yet turned the cards over in their stacks to reveal the next set, and I’m not going to until I’m done writing this post). Magic(k)ally speaking, whatever set of cards are active in a Working like this one during the eclipse itself will have their energy amplified by the eclipse; this would be true anyway, but is all the more pronounced because of the main concept behind this working, with its pairs of Sun and Shadow cards mirroring the conjunction of Sun and Moon during an eclipse.
Astrologically, this eclipse will take place in the sign of Aries—my Sun sign—and thus it falls along the Aries/Libra axis, one major theme of which is “war and peace.” As I wrote in the post The Weighing of the Heart, the events of that night when so much of the meaning of Hermekate was revealed to me coincided with the Strawberry Moon lunar eclipse in Sagittarius—which connects the Word of Hermekate with eclipses.
Eclipses come in pairs, and the “twin” eclipse linked with the upcoming April 8th eclipse was the annular solar eclipse which took place on October 14th, 2023. As it happens, the paths of these two eclipses both intersect right on top of San Antonio, TX—and my partner and I just moved to the Houston area last year, where we live just about 200 miles west of where the paths meet. We will be in San Antonio on April 8th, which will surely be a magic(k)ally potent time and place.
This is all the more significant because April 8th will mark the 120th anniversary of Day 1 of Aleister Crowley’s 3-day reception of The Book of the Law.
Given all of these connections, it seems obvious that this convergence of events has a very strong magic(k)al connection with the Word of Hermekate and the advent of the principle of the Song—and it would be a huge waste of a golden opportunity not to mark the occasion magic(k)ally in some way…though I am not yet sure what I’d like to do about it.
Regardless of what actions I do or do not take, there is a lot of deeper meaning interwoven with the timing, the overall “kairos” of the event. I feel it will surely mark an auspicious turning point in the unfolding magic(k)al war and, by extension, in the development of the Word of Hermekate. The outcome over the next 6 months should be interesting to play my part in manifesting.
So, back to this idea of the “spiritual war” unfolding here on planet Earth; what’s it all about, anyway? Well, much like its deeper meaning in the context of The Bhagavad Gita, this war is largely symbolic—although it has connections with the literal Kurukshetra War, which is thought to have at least a loose basis in history as an actual event. Its timing is taken by many to mark the beginning of The Kali Yuga, which I am sure many if not most of my readers are familiar with.
For those who are not, I’ll give a very quick rundown: In Hinduism, the world is said to progress through an ongoing cycle of various world-spanning ages, or “yugas,” each with its own overarching “theme” or pattern of energies that play out on Earth. In each Yuga Cycle, there are four different yugas, each spanning different lengths of time. In a basic sense, the cycle begins in an age governed by virtue and spiritual balance, with each succeeding age seeing a decrease in that virtue until it sinks to its lowest point (where we are now said to find ourselves):
Satya Yuga, or “Golden Age,” a time of truth and prosperity that is also the most divine; in this period, humanity is said to be the closest to the gods. Virtue reigns supreme during this yuga.
Treta Yuga, or “The Age of Triads.” This age marks the beginning of the decline of dharma or virtue, and the introduction of vice into the world. Exemplified and largely presided over by Lord Rama, one of Vishnu’s avatars, this age epitomizes the struggle between good and evil.
Dvapara Yuga represents a continuation of the decline in virtue that begins in Treta Yuga, though there is still a strong effort on the part of many divine kings to uphold it. This was the context of the Kurukshetra War into which Vishnu incarnated as Krishna to strike down the evil kings who opposed divine virtue. The events of The Bhagavad Gita took place at the very end of this age.
Kali Yuga, the “iron age,” in which we currently live. As the shortest of the four yugas, this age “only” lasts for 432,000 years. The Kali Yuga is the darkest of all the ages, ruled by the forces of materialism and vice and characterized by widespread sinfulness and suffering. The Kali Yuga is divided into three separate portions: The “dawn” era, lasting 36,000 years; the main Kali Yuga lasting 360,000 years; and lastly, the “dusk” era, lasting again 36,000 years. Since the Kali Yuga is said to have begun in 3102 B.C.E., we are still well within the “dawning” of the Kali Yuga, and we have a long way to go. Based on the teachings surrounding the Yuga cycle, while we can all clearly see that the world is becoming a dark place, we are only getting started and things are still bound to get much darker still.
There is a great deal of thematic similarity between the Yuga Cycle and the cycle of Aeons popularized in Thelema by Aleister Crowley, but it is very important to emphasize that these are not the same thing and come from entirely separate religious traditions. Nonetheless, the similarities and differences between the two models of time are a deep and fascinating area of study. When engaging in such a study, one thing becomes highly apparent: Temporally speaking, the two models disagree with one another, so it’s not all that practical to adhere strictly to both of them if one insists on viewing each in any sort of absolute sense; that being said, a great many Western occultists are also very interested in the concept of the Kali Yuga. In fact, it becomes something of a touchy subject when we begin to explore the concept of the particular magic(k)al war described by Egil Asprem in The Magical Theory of Politics. Importantly, when I myself speak of the “spiritual war” in which Hermekate is a “weapon,” the specific magic(k)al war discussed by Asprem is just one aspect.
In short, however, the war Asprem describes is something of an “occult rivalry” that largely runs along secular, political lines, consisting mainly of witches and left-leaning modern magicians on one side, with more conservative and far-right leaning mages on the other side who, while absolutely willing to make use of more modern techniques drawn from chaos magic(k), also often adhere to the Traditionalist principles of occult thinkers such as the controversial Julius Evola, whose ideas are in turn situated within his own personal perspectives on the Kali Yuga (one of his better-known and most hotly-debated works, Ride the Tiger: A Survival Manual for the Aristocrats of the Soul, essentially outlines his vision for navigating the Kali Yuga). The main controversial aspect of Evola was the fact that he had fascist sympathies and expressed some perspectives that were very frankly racist. Interestingly, I’ve heard rumors that Steve Bannon is an avid student of Evola’s works.
My take on all of this is that while clear political lines can be drawn here, they’re also largely incidental from an esoteric point of view, and that mages who avow a strong loyalty to either side as described by Asprem are simply those who tend to be most vocal, and who voluntarily choose to characterize their stance in the terms of modern politics; in other words, most of these people seem to put their political views above their magic(k)al views, such that the politics inform the magic(k)al work instead of the other way around. Similarly (though I hesitate somewhat to vocalize and openly air this perspective), I think there are also quite a few whose position would appear much more ambiguous (and potentially more threatening) to anyone who can’t detach their perspective from the left/right political divide. That is to say, while the world is very apt to polarize along political lines in a stark black-and-white way, the magic(k)al worldview tends to be a lot more nuanced; the archetypal magician is a quintessential “trickster” figure who is better known for mercurially flirting with boundaries and liminality and for “playing both sides against the middle,” for carving their own way through the world rather than wittingly allowing themselves to become a mere pawn in someone else’s political agenda. I think it’s quite likely that those whose sense of identity is more rooted in esoteric philosophical concerns are more likely to adopt stances and preferences that defy simple political definitions than those who base their identity on their political sympathies, and many of these former folks are likely to be watching this more political “war” play out in mild bemusement than to be throwing themselves wholeheartedly into one side of the balance or the other.
And, of course, to openly admit to such a thing is likely at present to get anyone painted as a traitor by people on either side of the political divide. To further complicate matters, it’s also very true that there are people whose motivations are purely political who are using esoteric ideas to manipulate others into furthering their political aims. People need to be really careful right about now, and it can be exceedingly hard to know who one’s real friends are.
I’ll offer some examples of what I mean. I started working my way toward addressing this odd situation in The Rising Tide, and to a lesser extent in Sic Semper Tyrannis!
Politically, I lean left, and I do so shamelessly. In fact, here are my most recent results from The Political Compass Test (a model which I know has its limitations, but still gives a clear enough idea of where I stand in a basic sense): I’m pretty Left/Libertarian.
Nonetheless, in Sic Semper Tyrannis!, I cited some key ideas from Plato’s The Republic, ones which are pretty explicitly undemocratic: Namely, a sentiment that it would probably be better if the world were run by “true philosophers”—that is, “lovers of wisdom”—than by the plutocrats who find their way into power today. I have all sorts of reasons for this which echo Plato’s reasoning: The fact that the reasons people become powerful in our world are incredibly superficial and have almost nothing to do with principles like ethics or the good of society. I even agree with Plato as to one of the unfortunate reasons this comes about: Many people vote the way they do for some ultimately asinine and short-sighted reasons. Broadly, I value freedom and the spirit of self-advocacy that is vested in the common person by the institution of democracy, but I also think it’s sad and scary that certain people are allowed to vote. I really do. There are some really ignorant, scary people who use their votes for some really frightening things, many of whom are shockingly uninformed about what it is they’re actually voting for. I don’t have all the answers to what we should do about that, but whatever we’re doing now isn’t working so well either.
Very few people on earth—rich or poor—invest considerable energy into developing their character—that is, in seeking to understand and then to do The Good in any sense that could be considered truly philosophical; most of those who do, in some way, pursue a virtuous life also tend to do so along explicitly religious lines rather than philosophical ones, and this is a completely different prospect (especially since most religions also institutionalize values like patriarchy). At any rate, to make such goals as development of The Good a primary pursuit in life is very often to choose a life with fewer financial opportunities. Society is not built to reward such behavior. Our systems of governance are pretty much rigged to ensure that this doesn’t change.
However, people who exert effort in the specific forms of self-development covered by the process of Initiation, even though they still hold very diverse viewpoints, are at least generally more informed, educated, and self-disciplined than the average person. Obviously, no one is perfect, but part of the very essence of Initiation is the cultivation and development of the mind and heart. To live every moment of life more consciously and intentionally is a major aspect of the work, and while I know such work can only ever be done voluntarily, I wholeheartedly believe that if more people were doing it, the world would be a better place. People who engage in the process of Initiation know that The Good is a thing, even if different people view it differently. Wisdom is a rare personal trait, but those who hold it are easily recognizable and generally make better decisions than those who don’t.
This illustrates one of the areas in which the perspective of an Initiate is drastically different from a more secular, worldly viewpoint, which renders some of our perspectives utterly incompatible with the modern world in which we find ourselves; the modern world values freedom above all other principles, even the freedom to make terrible decisions. Meanwhile, people who intentionally cultivate virtue, compassion, and wisdom ironically need less freedom, because we voluntarily exercise self-restraint as part of our Initiatory work (if we’re doing it well). We do this despite living in a world that in many ways opposes such a lifestyle.
So, put simply, if I were confident that the world were truly being run by wise people exercising real concern for The Good, there are a lot of personal freedoms I would be happy to give up, including voting rights. If I knew I could trust my government, I’d be happy paying more taxes to establish a social support network that I knew would also be there for me when I needed it. That’s a big if with a whole bunch of undefinable caveats (not to mention many personal assumptions based on my own preference which I know not everyone would agree with), none of which are likely very practical in the real world, because at the end of the day, humans are imperfect, very fallible beings; even if we could somehow find suitable “philosopher-kings” who might actually be capable of ruling in a way that not only prioritizes The Good but also leaves us generally happy, that situation would only persist for so long before someone else had to take over, and there’s simply no realistic means of ensuring “quality control” over such a process. Lesser individuals would inevitably take their place and it would all fall apart again. That’s the catch-22: The very reason we preserve democracy is because history shows us that all too often, the alternative is tyranny and oppression. We seem to have great difficulty finding a nice “sweet spot” between the pursuit of a virtuous, more fulfilling society and way of life and the pursuit of freedom in the name of mere vanity and shallow avarice.
My deeper views on things mean that I have many sensibilities that are in fact more compatible with Traditionalism and there’s a lot about the modern world that I find absolutely soul-deadening; but Traditionalism is, by and large, associated in the real world with patriarchal, right-wing views which I also oppose. Most people who follow it, for example, may talk a big game about desiring a world governed by the principles of virtue, but a big part of what they really mean by that also boils down to “get women back into the kitchen and out of the workplace,” and “let’s bring slavery back and put all those brown folks to work if we can’t just get rid of them;” they want to walk back many of the social gains we’ve made toward greater equality in the modern world because they honestly think those are part of the problem. I sympathize with certain aspects of Platonic thought, but don’t want to resurrect everything that once went along with it.
Regardless, this results in a set of preferences and priorities that don’t fit neatly into either modern left wing or modern right-wing values—the main rub being that leftism is strongly correlated with atheism, which becomes the source of a lot of modernism’s tendencies that feel “empty” and “hollow” to me; not that I think the answer is to institutionalize any particular form of religion, but in the wake of establishing our modern way of life, with capitalism and its superficial consumer-driven imperatives filling in the gap left where religion once stood, we have yet to find something more satisfying to meet those same deeper, very human needs. Between the left and right, however—as my Political Compass shows—my preference is decidedly leftist, but the sad thing about that is that such a preference is one that isn’t actualized in very many places anywhere on the planet at present.
This, my friends, is where we’re left: There is a deep and abiding mismatch between our needs as human beings and the practical means of meeting them on a collective level worldwide: We have outgrown traditional systems and their arbitrary power imbalances that once served a perceived purpose, but have yet to fully awaken as a species from the relative state of slumber that first dreamed them up; and as we stretch and yawn, wiping away the crust from our eyelids, we haven’t quite figured out how to build a new system in its place that both dignifies our awakening independent spirit and also satisfies the inner longings of our souls. Meanwhile, those whose worldly power and influence depend on such fast-fading dreams fear their loss and work tirelessly to put us all back to bed. The political gridlock I have described above is surely one of their best means of impeding progress and holding onto all they fear to lose: Between the comforting certainty of tradition and the promise of modern innovation, many of us long for a balance while each is held in opposing hands that grow ever farther apart from one another. There is a deep need to forge a working synthesis that incorporates the best of both worlds, and this may be exactly why the divisions between them are being exaggerated and fomented. It’s the only way to stem the rising tide.
These conditions can’t persist forever, and in the meantime, we find ourselves embroiled in endless layers of conflict on ideological grounds, all of which are distracting us from the battle that truly matters.
While our attention is forcibly compelled to identify our enemies without and to seize upon them, the true solution involves understanding that the deeper locus of this conflict is on the inside.
While armies of protesters and activists of all stripes clash in the streets under artificially-manufactured banners designed to keep us from ever seeing eye-to-eye, the true warriors fighting for the future are waging aspects of this battle in the place that matters most:
In our hearts.
We will never solve the external conflicts that plague our society until we reconcile the opposing forces within us that represent competing drives toward stability and homeostasis on the one hand and freedom of action on the other. Society will not become more virtuous until we ourselves find virtue within. We won’t outgrow the infantile need to be ruled by the strong until we cultivate the inner strength we need to conduct ourselves in harmony without them.
This war of which I speak is the same that has been waged since the dawn of humanity; it’s just reaching a culmination point at this particular juncture in history, with higher stakes than ever before.
The problems are so vast and incomprehensible that I have often wondered how on Earth it is that I’ve dared to position Hermekate as holding any of the keys necessary to working it all out. I don’t feel very important much of the time, and certainly don’t very often think of myself as a worthy leader in all of this; what do I know? I question the morality of openly claiming, as any Magus must necessarily do, to be holding something that the world needs.
Perhaps, like Arjuna, it’s not up to me to spend my time on this planet questioning the “rightness” of this fight, rather than simply stepping up and doing my part. Perhaps it’s not for me to question what I know to be my dharma, and as recent outcomes have shown, I can’t possibly guess who will and will not be touched by Hermekate, what it might be worth to other people, because I can’t put myself in their shoes. Perhaps not everyone needs the “weapon” I offer on this spiritual battlefield—but perhaps those who do need it, really need it. Perhaps that’s enough.
Let’s do cards.
Top/Sun Card
Another lovely and desirable card to grace my Sun Stack! When the topic of the day is “war”—especially “spiritual war”—this is the card you want to see, because the alternative is wholly unacceptable. The Six of Wands combines two factors that go very well with the developing theme of this chapter: As a card in the suit of Wands, we are dealing with fire, the highest and most “spiritual” of the four elements. As a Six, this card dwells in the Sephirah of Tiphareth at the center of the Tree of Life, which has its own grand spiritual implications. As I discussed last week in Chapter 31, it is the dwelling place of the Holy Guardian Angel.
Let’s see what DuQuette has to say about it in Understanding Aleister Crowley’s Thoth Tarot:
On the Tree of Life, Tiphareth is the direct reflection of Kether. It is the Son of the Father. It is perfectly balanced, left to right and top to bottom. It is the heart center of our psychic bodies and the Ruach of our souls. It rules as the central Sun King, surrounded by the spheres of the planets: Chesed (Jupiter), Geburah (Mars), Netzach (Venus), Hod (Mercury), Yesod (Moon), and even Binah (Saturn). Consequently, no matter how incompatible the card’s planetary and zodiacal relationship may be, if that card is a six, we are in Tiphareth, and if we are in Tiphareth we’re looking good.
In the case of the Six of Wands, we are doubly blessed with the happy marriage of expansive, boisterous, and generous Jupiter in powerful Sun-ruled Leo. This is the recipe for triumphant Victory.
p. 218
The presence of so much solar symbolism in the Sun Card position leading into the eclipse is a happy coincidence, but there’s something very important that this card illustrates:
When it comes to the war in question, victory is a state of mind. It’s an attitude. I said it above: This war is waged largely in our hearts, and that means the way to win it is to anchor the certainty of victory in the heart first and foremost. In any mundane, physically-waged war, an attitude of certainty regarding victory can be dangerous, leading to overconfidence, because there’s no telling what the opposing side might do. However, in an esoteric war, such an attitude can make all the difference no matter what anyone else does. It can truly turn the tide. In a way that may seem paradoxical, this holds true on both internal and external levels, because the heart is our gateway into the realm of the transpersonal, where our own actions and inner convictions really do prove to synchronize us with others when we resonate in sympathy. It is this hidden level of very real synchronistic coordination that forms the very basis of the principle of the Song, wherein by attuning sufficiently to our hearts, we anchor the Word of Hermekate within ourselves and act in accord with our fellow spiritual warriors even if we aren’t mentally aware of it. I have certainly seen enough in the last couple of years to know that this is true. This is not at all an article of faith on my part.
It’s knowledge.
In the introduction above, I mentioned how the story told in The Bhagavad Gita references the connections between the individual Self, or Atman, and Brahman, the universal Self; this is the same thing DuQuette is referring to in the passage above where he says that Tiphareth (which represents the principle in any given human being that is roughly analogous to that of Atman) is the reflection of Kether (which, in the individual sense, correlates roughly with the principle known in Hinduism as Brahman). This is quite literally the seat of that same connection, and in the suit of Wands, this card represents the highest aspect of that connection. These are the fires that descend upon the great battlefield to scorch the forces of darkness that would extinguish this inner flame.
The more fiercely this fire burns within our hearts, the more brightly we radiate these inner forces to those around us. We can warm ourselves and others by this light and heat, and this will galvanize us in our efforts.
The point here is that while external events like the upcoming eclipse are indeed mysterious and potentially inspiring, and it’s certainly a good thing to draw strength from them, it’s also a mistake to place too much importance on them. We need not rely on such rare and auspicious circumstances, and if we allow ourselves to depend too much on them, we may find ourselves lacking in strength when we need it most.
This is a warning against empty superstition, illustrating a very important balance for us to have in our magic(k)al work: Knowing to take advantage of such fortuitous, indeed “Jupiterian” circumstances to propel us to Victory when they just so happen to lend themselves to it, but not to assign so much power to them that we forget our own inner strength.
For this reason, I am just as tempted to do absolutely nothing of a magic(k)al nature on April 8th other than to simply gawk at the eclipse and enjoy the spectacle for what it is, drinking deep of it and knowing that just bearing witness to such an uplifting event is enough to draw strength from in the months to come. It’s possible that the best way to make the most of such a moment is simply to fully immerse oneself in the experience…something we often forget to do in our modern era.
Eclipses come and go (and although this one is getting a lot of buzz, it’s been pointed out that the circumstances surrounding that are highly relative and subjective, and eclipses are a regular occurrence every year somewhere on planet Earth); the fires of Victory burn always in our hearts if we cultivate them.
In Tarot: Mirror of the Soul: Handbook for the Aleister Crowley Tarot, Gerd Ziegler reminds us:
Jupiter, the planet of luck and expansion, binds itself with the creativity of Leo. All goals will be easily reached. But the victory should never be achieved at the expense of others, or unjustly set them at a disadvantage. The struggle must be won by fair means, and should be put to the service of some good cause which benefits all involved.
p. 108
The alignment of Jupiter—planet of divinity and rulership, indeed the planet associated with the ruler of the gods in the Roman pantheon—with Leo, sign of the lion, “king of the jungle”—highlights the conjunction of inner/spiritual rulership with the most primal examples of earthly dominance. It is a perfect representation of the principle of the “philosopher-king” I spent so much time describing in the intro.
I think the lesson here is that Plato’s ideal kingdom as illustrated in The Republic might be taken as a potent allegory much less so than a literal guide to governing the world, and that if we want a world ruled from an enlightened perspective, the best thing we can each possibly do is strive to embody one.
Shadow Card
Ah, The Princess of Swords. She has come up as a subject a couple of times already in this series, toward the beginning, even though her card had not yet formally appeared. This card often makes me smile, and again the timing here is reaffirming even if she does appear in my Shadow Stack. Why is this?
Because she reminds me of my very first esoteric blog, which I began writing in 2013 not long after first beginning to work with the Thoth tarot. The blog had an odd name—one with a lot of personal significance to me that related to the VSigil from my Self-Initiation ceremony in Norway in 2012. The blog was called “Mundane Line,” which was actually an anagram of the pen name I was using at the time (Daniel Numen—yeah, I know, pretentious AF, but hardly much worse than “Dan de Lyons” as far as that goes). For my very first publication—the Introduction page—I drew a tarot card meant to set the tone for all that would follow.
I drew the Princess of Swords, which seemed fitting to me because the card has a great deal of resonance with the idea of issuing a sharp, incisive challenge to established authorities and dogmas—it’s a card of “speaking truth to power.” I’ve carried this same ethos with me to every blog I’ve written ever since.
As DuQuette elaborates:
Rising out of a cloud of dust, Crowley’s paradoxical Princess of Swords, earth of air, appears like a beautiful avenging angel. Her head is crowned with the Medusa-headed helmet, which mercifully is turned away from our view. For if we were to gaze upon its awful face, we would surely be turned to stone. Turning things to stone (“fixation of the volatile”—”materialization of Idea”) is just part of the job description for the Princess of Swords, however.
p. 196
As far as “fixation of the volatile” goes, this card is an elemental illustration of precisely what I am doing every time I sit down to write: I am giving final form to my ideas, consigning them to words, getting them down on “paper” for others to read. The “warrior Princess” sensibilities of the Princess of Swords are definitely resonant with my stance regarding the patriarchy and in this sense, she is very much a “mascot” for all that I have sought to do in connection with the Word of Hermekate.
This card, too, holds strong resonance with ideas drawn from The Bhagavad Gita, as the suit of swords is deeply connected with the “Ruach,” or the intellect, which is…kind of a double-edged sword. As DuQuette explains:
However, when we identify with the Ruach, we also separate ourselves from the higher parts of our souls that represent greater realities and levels of consciousness than our Ruach is capable of comprehending. Consequently, the Ruach does everything it can to keep its grasp on our identity. This is why the Eastern mystics warn us that the mind is a great enemy. It must be defeated in battle. When the battle begins, the Ruach naturally sends its finest swordswoman into the field—a warrior-princess who manifests everything that is inherent, yet hidden, in her lord, the ace, a mighty champion of the mind—a Minerva, an Artemis, a Valkyrie—the Princess of Swords.
pp. 196-197
This passage suggests that, as much reverence as I hold for this dear Princess, in her identification with the Ruach/mental intellect, she also represents what I have often acknowledged as my greatest weakness in this work: The self-doubt and over-analysis that stem from what, in a more balanced sense, can also be a positive trait: My willingness to subject my ideas and convictions to scrutiny. It’s a good tendency when it keeps us from speaking out of turn or overstepping our bounds, but it works against us when the clouds of thick black smoke from which this Princess rises are turned inward upon ourselves, resulting in over-analysis and self-doubt.
We take the good with the bad; the same untamed impetuosity that empowers me to challenge norms and lay waste to sacred cows can also easily backfire.
Still, I love this Princess dearly and think very fond thoughts of the oracular “boon” she bestowed upon me by appearing in that tarot reading almost a decade ago.
This card’s appearance is a reminder that while it’s important to keep our minds sharp and to stick to our convictions, intellectual paralysis is always an undesirable outcome of identifying too much with our intellect, and likewise, our ideals. As such, the card is also a warning against becoming too fixed in our thinking—again, a manifestation of this card’s “earth (princess) of air (swords)” attribution.
Ziegler does a good job reminding us of her more redeeming qualities, which are important to reflect upon in raising her up out of the latency of the Shadow and into active expression:
The Princess of Swords represents an extremely rebellious person who is not to be intimidated either by the established or the sanctified. Because she rebels in the name of clarity, openness and truth, she is prepared to destroy anything repressive, anything which prevents a full experience of life, including all moral codes. Her “no” to repression is rooted in a deep “yes” to herself and existence. We can compare her actions to Jesus’ throwing the moneylenders out of the temple.
p. 86
This is now the second time I’ve quoted Ziegler as he referenced Jesus throwing the moneylenders out of the temple; me must like that story just about as much as I do.
Emphasizing this divine purpose of the Princess of Swords is a good way to put her mixed qualities in perspective: It’s a reminder that while rebellion plays an important and indispensable role in the work of Initiatory growth and development (as well as the outer unfolding of The Great Work), that rebellion serves a particular purpose. Empty, unfocused rebellion for its own sake leads only to senseless ruin.
But I’d still rather have this Princess on my side in “The Twilight War.”
And now, it’s time to see if my “hunch” about some kick-ass cards for the April 8th eclipse turn out to prove accurate:
Sun Card: 2 of Wands - Dominion
Shadow Card: Adjustment
Yeah…I’d say I was right.
See you after the eclipse!