A woman, manacled in solid gold chains.
Vividly attached to your own personal limitations, idiosyncrasies, and karmic backlog, you are identified within the strict circle of familiar difficulties, dilemmas, issues, and problems. Habituated to a thick atmosphere of being surrounded and enveloped by all the places you have hung out forever. Immobilized in your will and truly feeling incapable of overthrowing the past. You feel chaotically fascinated by and deeply saturated in patterns, syndromes, and subconscious escapes. Yet in the fiery midst of this very enchantment, you can go free if you inwardly come to a place where all the old spells no longer work and your resurgent spirit simply refuses to confound itself any further.
Many iris blooming in a wide variety of colors.
A vast multiplicity of vantage points, ways of being, complete identities. Fabulously suggestible and impressionable. Fanning out in all directions, becoming one with everything. Desiring and needing to bring forth each self you have ever been, every fancy you are filled with, you are impetuous, outrageous, and irrepressible. Freedom at all costs. The moment prevails. Ferment and flux. A great difficulty in holding steady, perpetual adolescent rebellion, and the magnificent ability to become absolutely anything. Experience is all. Your deepest need is to embrace your astounding nature and let it be free, despite all signs to the contrary.
Clouds overhead seen in a reflecting pool.
Enlightenment rarely comes by pursuing straight lines, by following predictable tracks. If you wish to find the secrets to the mysteries, you must give yourself over completely to the flux and to the ferment, and allow the winds of destiny to prevail entirely. This immediate sense world casts a very different glow than the heavens ever could. By identifying yourself with each shifting nuance, every flicker of instantaneous movement, you find the inner worlds way to waking up here in this Earth. But this journey is a perilous one, for you become awash in so many far-flung spheres, and there is no map and there are no shortcuts. You must somehow see right through your own most addictive and compulsive impulses, and ride the wild waves homeward through sheer presence of mind and gut conviction that everywhere leads to the same place. And that if you find yourself cast into any corner of fate it is the one perfect place to get home free within, if you can hang on and let go and never lose your sense of humor.
A young prince undresses to bathe in a pool.
Seeking your own reflection. Willing to go to any lengths to divest yourself of that which stands between yourself and your world. Seeking a path, a practice, a journey from an insulated way of life to a vitally engaged way of life, but hung up at the point of giving yourself completely over. Stalling for time, reaching for excuses, pulling in escapes and perpetuations of the status quo, you linger on the brink between one world and another. Propelled forward, but equally jerked backward. Destiny shall assert itself in a forward direction at the right time. And before that happens the drama of “will he, won’t he?” dominates consciousness and energy, keeping everything tense, fascinating, and hopeful.
Three women materializing out of a fog.
Being mesmerized by your own triple reflection. Casting a huge chunk of your own soul back into the dim past, casting another chunk of your soul into the remote future, and enshrouding the present time chunk of your soul in layer after layer of obscurity and evasiveness. Living simultaneously in past, present, and future, but with all three time frequencies held away. Therefore, to a fantastic extent, you live inside the subconscious mind with virtually no conscious outlet. Down inside there something extraordinary is happening. Free from the glare of any form of overt reflection you are gestating, healing, and making yourself ready for the infinite unknown to pop or hatch. Intensive seething forces of dreaming into the void, the great abyss. And while knocked out of outer commission, liberated to conceive the inconceivable and to renew your tangled and damaged roots in the old wise woman way that never ages and always works.
A pair of shoes with live wings on each.
To delight in pursuit is never to get there, but to enjoy the ride all the way. To identify with flight is to run from what is dense and heavy and to deny the pain of Earth. And to dream of a personal limitlessness is to stay out of realities that bind. The longing and the craving, the fantasy and the vision are everything here. And as you perpetuate illusions you feel no pain. Somewhere you are convinced that the very best thing is to be free, and that to fall for linear progression is to be a fool. Everything you know and follow is true in worlds beyond, and false in the dense immediacy of Earth experience.
Rats with ruby eyes.
Uncanny mentality. Knows what’s going on. Virtually psychic ability to follow inner subtle tracks. You are accustomed to the dark. At home in the margins, living upon scraps and notions, following a hunch–you are full of superstitions, idiosyncratic and cranky. Given over to an on-the-edge world that hugs twilight. Essentially neither this nor that. Independent, anarchic, and full of surprises. Resilient, tough, strong, and enduring, but self-obstructive, and prone to a form of trance which attracts astral entities and may lose the path in the mists.
The harsh landscape of the moon with a black sky. The Earth is not visible.
When chaos joins forces with hard and heavy dense frequencies, we are in for an exceedingly difficult journey. The feeling level is depressive and anguish-susceptible. The energies are chaotic and almost random. The result is an undercurrent, an undertow that is vicious. All seems hopeless–the situation contains no relief in sight. In the thick of this dilemma, a momentum toward the future is being seeded in one of two directions. Either you are condemning yourself to grim and forbidding territory as a form of self-punishment for being so far off, or you are preparing the way for a change of heart toward compassion and forgiveness, even for your own greatest weaknesses. It all depends upon whether you can allow in a spiritual light of redemption for the worst. Or whether instead your mind is made up, and another round of no nourishment at all is in order for the one who is lost and now has no way back. That is, until you let the light in to this terrible darkness and radically relent from your judgmental stance.
A man with green skin. He is dressed in leaves.
Playful, exuberant, spontaneous, and elusive, you are restless under constraint, with all of civilization representing constraint. Desperate to be free. When not held down, you have spectacular abilities and affinities. But when bound by time, you become abrasive and provoking. Temperamental in extreme ways. Aching for free movement in a vast territory. Drawn to every extreme that exists. The body and soul of one who can never be identified, tamed, narrowed. You are the one who knows how the deep Earth is surging with volatile currents, and these bear all hope and promise if they are followed with open arms. The one who shows everybody what life is like when it lets itself go and contagiously ripples with permission and encouragement for each and all to come out and play and explore the far edges, and even perhaps over those edges into the greater wilderness. Claiming the allegiance of those whose wildness is no passing whim, but the only viable way.
A star turning many different colors.
Bedazzled by the lights, intoxicated with the display, amazed and stunned by the spectacle. You are your own audience, your own accompanist, your own shadow-catcher. Prone to excess in all things, in a release of spirits unending. Becoming roles, worlds, ways of presenting self. Taking karmic episodes of the past and replaying them in another variation. Given over to the senses, body-charged, chaotic, and commanding. Taking life through all its shifts and nuances with easy and spectacular capacity, you feel somewhat at the mercy of the shadow that comes back to haunt. Effortless grace and subtle burnout. For there is more than this, and it will not come unless this does consume itself, and makes way for the unknown as the only place to go when the excitement wears off.
A string of pearls.
Everything seems equal to everything else. Life coming in at such an angle of perception that it always leads to the same places. What goes around comes around. Characteristic observations, pet phrases, cliches, truisms. Becoming aware that everything makes perfect sense, that it all fits together as naturally as can be and that all you have to do is pay attention. There is a second, deeper lesson–elusive and baffling–that may ultimately prove to be centered around “Who is the observer, and what is that special ingredient they put in there that makes everything so self-evident?” If the world is right there for the asking, the self remains an enigma, an unknown, the territory yet to be mapped out or rendered commonsensical.
Soul timing. Slow and formative. Waiting for fullness and ripeness. Outliving old stuck patterns by slowly wearing them out. Deep process. You experience lessons in humility and simplicity. An extravagant streak which relents only after relentless pressure. Cross-purposes. You have an attachment to personal inclination of the most stubborn kind, and yet a desperate drive to get beyond the shadows. Interior dialogue and dispute. The slow burning way. And allowing pride to surrender without being made wrong. Elaborate maneuvers toward significant breakthrough.
An embalmer at work on a mummy.
Death manifests among the living in myriad forms and guises. It is unforgettable in its imprint. Those who are drawn to get close to death and to get involved with it have their own set of challenges accordingly. Will they get wrapped up in the lesser levels of death and turn into habitual trapped creatures, or will they extend the range of their affinity and their allegiance to encompass the redemptive and the regenerative aspects of death? Being magnetized to relive previous deaths, to learn the ways of death and to fathom its mysteries, and being able to move among many sides of this equation. But ultimately drawn either to indulge the regressive loop of being in circles of recurrence, swept away, or to open up the space tremendously–to collaborate with the lively ones among the dead, and to discover that in their world, which is scooped out in that exquisite sensibility through which the lively dead see this world, they celebrate its free becoming more fully than anybody else would be able to approach in that sparkling way.
A terrarium filled with carnivorous plants.
Deposited in the jungle, the pit, the open sewer; exposed mercilessly to the worst chaos, multiplicity, and darkness the world has to offer. Toughened, seasoned, tempered under duress. Forced to get it. Magnetizing the collective crises and subcurrents can give you a crash course in what has happened to the world and what must be done about it. You feel especially keenly pulled to participate in situations where anything goes and you must live by your wits or else. This is the fast, hard way to get a refresher course in the tortures and the plagues, in order to come up with solutions and alternatives of the most avid, incisive, and irresistible kind.
A tidal wave approaching.
The momentum of collective events runs toward floodtide when there is a major transition from one whole cycle to another. The personal lifestream runs in similar patterns. When you’re getting ready to take off in a whole different direction, there is first a transition that is both immensely exciting and fantastically disturbing. You feel just about swept away by the oncoming changes and just before they really get going, the tension, the pressure, and the strain can tear you apart. You want to go with it, yet you yearn for sanctuary. This keen ambivalence gets loaded with desire, anticipation, memory pictures, and utopian visions. The mix is volatile. Learning how to ride this wave is such a great endeavor that it, in itself, becomes what it is all about. The consummate opportunity to open wide, but stay substantively firm and concentrated. Mastery or bust. The infinite future or wipe-out. A spine-tingler all the way.
A man shearing sheep.
Practical fortitude. Resiliency to keep finding a way to do it, to keep discovering how to get through the deepest quandaries, the greatest karmic traps. Ingenious and resourceful. Paying attention to the cues, going to get it right. You’re involved within a path which requires discipleship or apprenticeship, learning the ropes. Building up fresh capacity in this lifetime to scale the heights. But you remain preoccupied and absorbed within honest tasks. A pervasive conviction grows and forms, of how it really is. You’re willing to take every step to reach a far goal, and attentive to what is really there. A throwback to the old ways of a rural past. Oddly comfortable in adopting forms and moving through phases and taking on the worlds. The journeyman learns the ways of the journey and gathers Earth wisdom in small bundles. Knowing how to be there when it counts.
A monkey dressed in a brocade coat.
Playing with roles, masks, and the tricky side of life, you simulate whichever facet will optimize the situation. You’re permitted great latitude in improvising and going off on tangents. Becoming constructively chaotic, harnessing the forces of the collective madness. Ingenious and witty and bright. Devoid of substance, virtually pure image. Having fun, and trying things on for size. Slipping in and slipping out. Playing games. You are also empowered from within to throw off all solemnities, and to free up situations whichever way it will work, without moral standards to inhibit the free flow of inventive enthusiasms.
Rose petals scattered on a path.
Protection, guidance, grace dispensation. Offered a way to move right through the middle of life’s labyrinths and stay straight on. Your innate sanctity preserves you against the play of the opposites, you stay singular, straightforward. Throwing off complications and conundrums, you stick with what is sweet and eternal. Most essentially, you wear a cloak of innocence, a tightly fitting garment of unworldliness. And as you pass for a fortunate and blessed soul, it all turns out to be true.
A monstrous sea creature dead, washed up on the beach.
Poisons, toxins, the refuse of what is incomplete create a stink and a sensation. It is horrible to be rotting away in the wrong place at the wrong time. And it is worse for everybody to know it and nobody to be able to do anything about it. Each and every inward distortion magnifies itself and takes over the situation. You are getting a great chance to behold every old syndrome played back everywhere. And if you can forgive and move on, all of it will be more than worth it, no matter how sickening it felt at the time.
The changing of water into wine.
The accustomed round of events is a set-up, and a springboard into what we hope to find when we search and strive. The basic circle of common experience is the indispensable container for miracles to be born. The ongoing continuum of life takes through itself the innovative and the visionary, and offers the arena for the action to reach across to everybody. The ordinary is ecstatic with promise, fertile with worlds beyond. And almost all of it makes itself felt, gently and intrinsically. Enhancing all budding possibilities, and prophetic of a new Earth to be inhabited every day in full sense-embrace, is ravishingly part of the mix.
Toads singing at night.
X marks the spot. Plugged in to universal currents of energy and awareness. You listen and look toward the collective, universal voice and resonance, pervasively sensing how the inner worlds synchronize with the outer worlds. A magical, shamanic realm in all respects, working from the sacred circle and the cone of light. Alchemical transmutation from state to state and world to world. In touch with the borderline, hugging the edges. You feel especially keen to taste and feel what needs to happen, what wants to arise, tapping the pulse of the times and speaking for all of those who stay tuned in for further developments.
Blackbirds flying out of a pie.
Darkness seeks release by the right vessel, at the right time, in the right place. You must be able to contain the darkness and to form it into an exquisitely sculpted-out seething chaos, and then discover your willingness and ability to reverse field, to give over the very thing you took as your own. This comes the hard way, by enduring the ravages of living in a volatile chaos almost as victim and then seizing command of your own vessel. Until you do it, the darkness leaks out around the edges and fosters the worst all around. Usually, triggering so much subtle destruction and indulgence in the negative brings you up short, and triggers the final reckoning and the huge release, sending darkness on its way and opening a space for light to flood through and start a new cycle, where the old had seemed to be decadent and established for the duration.
A woman wearing many tiny bells.
Methodology, technique, the how of things. Immersing yourself in the field of new ideas, fresh approaches, and innovative paths, imaginatively and energetically. Exposing yourself to possibilities, visions, ways to evolve. The body’s wisdom musically in touch and in tune, sensing the resonance of cellular awakening. Eager and enthusiastic and bright, you have given over to the process. Always in midstream. Seizing upon opportunities, challenges, openings. Needing to know just how it feels at the micro levels. What is it like to be free, to be joyous, to be unrestricted, here in the body, in the world? You seek the full-on motivating spark of knowing what it feels like to be tuned out and discovering what it really means to be tuned in all the way.
A statue of Isis covered by a transparent veil.
The one who lives inside is awash in colors, tones, and symbolic ritual displays of an extraordinarily precise attunement to the heart and soul of ancient wisdom. You are suspended in a long-ago time. So much of your being is still back there. The evolution of the world since the ancient times is neither acknowledged nor accommodated in any way. It all depends upon whether this exquisite gift of soul remembrance is honored or exploited. If it is exploited, which is so very tempting, the life empties out of meaning and value and becomes false and repulsive. If it is honored, the expanded faculties on tap become revitalized and find a fresh relevance. As the Divine Feminine reveals what we need to know and draws us to our utmost capacity, it is with an unfallen grace of sensing directly into the deepest parts of people and all they can become in the ancient future just ahead.
A small boat with no one in it. It is gradually drifting out to sea.
When life is a dream, not too much of selfhood is asked for or welcome. Ancestors, previous lifetimes, collective currents feed the dream, keep it alive. The self hugs a secretive outpost of neither being with nor being against. One of the remarkable things that happens is that spirit can speak and reveal much. One of the habits which easily proliferates here is to take no responsibility for anything. And one of the primal paths through is to drift deeper down in and to let all ego go, yet move with the soul as it is guided to each and every place it is meant to travel.
Climbing the steps of the pyramid of the sun.
Classical Maya civilization reenacted in fresh forms. Always having the Greater Sun beating down, always aware of the vaster picture. You tap a sensibility that is profound and extraordinary, the greater Gods and the human scene juxtaposed mightily. In tune with progressive evolutionary currents, you work very hard to reinstate the sacred upon the next spiral. Tuned in to what is really happening here. An expanded space for dreaming, remembering, conceiving, visualizing, and creating. Absolutely knowing that the galactic forces are integral to every breath, and moving toward true galactic citizenship with a passion.
Siamese twins talking to each other.
Intimate exposure to currents, energies, and contexts which turn you inside out and upside down. Being hyper-impressionable, supersuggestible, and uncomfortably close and awkward. Nothing feels right. Nothing goes where it is supposed to. However, something entirely different is on its way. It is a matter of outlasting the fate of the past and resiliently coming back to life by surprise. The return is orchestrated by invisible forces. You’re captivated by strange old stories with an incestuous, serpentine entrapment to them, and called utterly beyond all of this. You have the capacity to release and renounce the most confounding combinations of factors, and to leap vibrantly into unknown country with barely a scratch, everything going your way.
A witch’s ritual dagger.
Strong, focused intent to create and stay with your own world within the world. Being flooded by collective contents and then strategically carving out a distinctive way of being with an emphasis upon eccentricity and maverick ways. Being impelled to generate tenuous yet firm boundaries to give any hope at all of continuity and consistency. You are at an advanced and intricate crossroads in development, where you are inwardly blown wide open and outwardly desperate to forge individuality and personal life. The cosmos inundates the landscape. And the one inside the body makes endless small gestures to constitute an island reality that fools nobody and only momentarily keeps the floodtide at bay.
The ritual slaughtering of a lamb.
It is so hard to give up your fondest notions. It is so testing and trying to be asked by universal spirit to surrender your privileges, to renounce your claim upon your own life. And it is even an extreme act of self-transcendence to come to terms with the position you find yourself in as it really is. Ego-busting comes as a rude shock, even when the time is at hand to leap beyond your own shadow. The very idea draws out to the surface every resistance imaginable. The mind goes crazy with this edge. If only you could control it, manipulate it, relativize it. But excruciating self-awareness accompanies this edge–in particular no sentimentality towards your own excuses and reasons. For you are at that point where there is no place to hide and nothing to do except surrender gracefully, when you have exhausted every other option and found them to be null and void.
The completion of a large Persian rug.
The design of the world-matrix entered upon, fathomed, appreciated, beheld, and entered into completely. Losing the self and finding the self. Dancing at the edge of infinity, you are able to take up any lesson or phase with utter, rapt abandon, You’ve been given the chance to take personally and collectively every old karmic cycle and free it up and move onward. An arduous, consuming endeavor. The sensation of bondage and freedom as one. You feel driven to the utmost extent to become all of yourself and to be done with errant fragments. The process is endless, yet each stroke is inspired and transcendent and blessed. For when you agree to take on what nobody can take on, you are a thousand-fold blessed and given every consideration, as you’re doing the true work, letting the world-matrix breathe into spaces beyond.