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moderndayruth

~ Tarot inspired essays and more

moderndayruth

Monthly Archives: February 2012

Devil, an unauthorized biography

27 Monday Feb 2012

Posted by moderndayruth in Poetry

≈ 12 Comments

Cerberus, picture by William Blake (18th cent.)

Image via Wikipedia

These are selected poems from my new book, re-sung* into English by Steve Mangan!

*re-sung means that Steve has breathed life into my (literally translated from Montenegrin) poems and, by doing so, gave them life in English too

Darkness and I

“Goodbye”, he said, tight lipped.

I was gazing into the dense night of Sofia,

through the open window of a hotel room.

Darkness, uninvited, crept into the room

and stepped into the place of my departed lover.

She entered my pores, suffused with sticky grief,

and casually asked “Do we know each other?

I caught her heavy scent and saw myself reflected

in her midst,’We know each other very well’, I replied.

She recognized the me from inside of herself,

ritually laid her hands upon me, and opened her arms.

I dissolved in her embrace, a familiar feeling,

until we trembled and shimmered as one.

She polished away the plaque of pointless words

washed away the filth of vain gesture,

swept away the remnants of poisonous flattery

and vindicated, once again, one more dead-end road.

Tonight, again, she replaced profanity with sorrow.

Tonight, again, she became my dark Bulgarian mikveh.

She said: “You know it doesn’t matter.”

She said: “It’s not the right moment.”

She said: “It’s not the right place.”

She said: “This is not your city.”

She said: “This is not your life.”

She said: “He’s just another weary hero,

it’s just one more farewell.”

 

The Devil 

(An autobiography) 

Do you not know me?

I am your adversary in this tale:

that arrogant voice born of doubt

and fostered by fear.

I dwell in the constant storm

of your uncertainty,

sprouting in darkness,

fed by your fury

and drinking up your pain

until you stumble and fall.

Still you dismiss me with a smile,

denying my existence

as I bury you alive.

 

Moon in Cancer

Throughout the month of Tammuz

my dreams are turbulent,

infused by ephemeral loves,

echoing with the names of unborn children

and rivals thirsting for blood.

Crazed by the blaze of moonlight the crab,

cold and cunning, tears at my guts;

each slash of its steely pincers making gelatine

of intestines, bowels and womb.

Scoop by twitching scoop of me

it sets before Cerberus,

which sinks its fangs avidly

into my mangled innards.

While they feed upon the blood soaked

memories of a former me,

a pale woman with thin lips spins a distaff

and reads Kadish for my unborn children.

copyright © 2011 Lena Ruth Stefanovic

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The Hierophant

23 Thursday Feb 2012

Posted by moderndayruth in Magical Realism

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

Egypt, Goddess, Himalayas, Hindu, Maha Shivaratri, Parvati, Religion and Spirituality, Shiva

 Rabbi Jehuda Löw, the Golem of Prague's creator

The rustling of silken empress’ dress snapped me out of zealous evening prayers. She was walking arm in arm with the pope – the latter was an implication of their intimacy, which had become the talk of the town; closely behind them two devoted followers with shaved heads were treading.

They were surprised that i was reading evening prayers at dawn – they were heading to greet Goddess Nut who was giving birth to mighty Amon Ra in the morning sky above Egypt.

I got it that we were caught in different time zones.

Three-eyed Shiva and sensual Parvati danced, gripped in the eternal hug of life and death, as if they were at some bare Himalayan cliff and not beside the warm stove in my kitchen.

Buddha-traveler, who was sitting at the window stool, threw over his worn out cloth bundle from one shoulder to another and bursted out laughing.

Dignified holy mother from the eastern wall silenced him with a look so that baby Jesus in her arms wouldn’t be awaken from the sleep.

In the darkened thelogical room of his library, Rabbi Judah Loew, The Maharal of Prague, span the wooden globe and gave a meaningful look to Golem.

In Montenegro, the sun has sat.

short story from collection ‘Io Triumpe’, published by OKF, Cetinje (2008)

Copyright©2008 Lena Ruth Stefanovic, All Rights Reserved

 the photograph of Rabbi Loew statue in Prague is free of copyright, source – German wiki

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Be able to walk away | mnmlist.com

21 Tuesday Feb 2012

Posted by moderndayruth in Zen

≈ 8 Comments

Tags

BMW, Closet, IPad, iPhone, Leo Babauta, mnmlist, Sport utility vehicle, Zen Habits

English: Zen Habits Logo

Image via Wikipedia

In any kind of negotiation, your ability to walk away is your strongest tool.

Those who can walk away from the negotiation — legitimately walk away, not just make a show of it — are in the strongest position. Those who are convinced they need to make the deal are in the weakest position.

This is true of negotiating when you’re buying a car, closing the sale of your new home, haggling in a foreign flea market, or trying to get a raise.

It’s also true of anything in life.

Know that there’s almost nothing you can’t walk away from.

If you are convinced you need a nice house with a walk-in closet and hardwood floors and a huge kitchen, you now have a weakness. You will give away precious life hours and savings to get it. Someone else who knows that those things aren’t absolutely necessary can walk away, and not need to spend so much money (and thus work hours) on that kind of house.

If you are convinced that you need Stabucks grande lattes every day, or an iPhone or iPad, or an SUV or Cooper Mini or BMW … you are in the weak position, because you can’t give it up. Someone else might know that those aren’t essential to happiness, and can walk away.

If you know that the man who is treating you badly (but who you just know will change someday, because, you know, he loves you) isn’t necessary for you to be happy, you can walk away. If you know that you can be happy alone, and that you need no one to make you happy, you can walk away.

If you know that there’s almost nothing you can’t walk away from, you can save yourself tons of money. Years of time. Mountains of headaches and heartaches. Boatloads of suffering.

You don’t need to walk away from everything, but you should know that you can. And when the cost of the deal is too great, too dear … walk away.

uncopyright: mnmlist.com  is a site by Leo Babauta of Zen Habits.

Leo Babauta has released all claims on copyright and has put all the content of this blog into the public domain.


  • The Essential Zen Habits of 2011 (zenhabits.net)
  • Be able to walk away (mnmlist.com)
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A dream about canals in Amsterdam, in which the water was murky.

21 Tuesday Feb 2012

Posted by moderndayruth in Magical Realism

≈ 15 Comments

Tags

Amsterdam, Anne Frank House, Canal, Jerusalem, Netherlands, North Holland, Red-light district, Siberia

Early summer, in June: it’s the time of the counting of Omer, and those Jews who continue zealously to observe the ancient traditions don’t shave; that’s how it should be, they say.

Baruch scratches at his beard as he thoughtfully studies the map of Amsterdam: to get from the central train station to the old synagogue, he needs to walk along the side of the canal for a while. He sets off with a series of landmarks in mind by which to make his way, cutting up the city’s throng with his black boots. He needs to leave behind the post office, the Christian Orthodox Church and the flea market – which seems out of place and disarrayed situated across the street from the church – offering to the passerby its charms and abundance of cheap kitsch. He then needed to cross a busy roundabout and, after passing the Jewish museum to the right and the tram stop to the left – he would show up exactly where he was impatiently expected.

They were supposed to wait for him at the airport, but something has happened. Dressed like a 19th century Polish landowner in a long black overcoat he has had to take the underground, to the surprise of his sojourners, a couple of local junkies and an illegal immigrant. Baruch avoided raising his head, he didn’t want his eyes to accidentally meet with the eyes of the people he travelled with, thus making an opening for their destinies to intertwine; he, the chosen one, didn’t have anything in common with them.

Baruch, chosen once upon a time to be “Or la goyim”, light unto the nations, and his sojourners from the underground – were different in their diet, in the way they established friendships and ran business – it could be said they were as different as the earth from the sky.

Truth is, Baruch didn’t exactly engage in business, aside from the utterly demanding deal his ancestors made with the Almighty, the other side in this oldest of the joint ventures. Since then to nowadays, very little has changed for Baruch and his people – he lived in Jerusalem, near the Kothel, got up at dawn to join the minyan and spent hours per day in prayer – his schedule was agreed upon long time ago and Baruch stuck to it firmly.

The need for our man in Amsterdam occurred quite unexpectedly and Baruch was told to embark on the journey – why it was he who was selected he didn’t know – but he was supposed to represent the community over there in the foreign land. The Light works in mysterious ways and Baruch didn’t question the choice made by the rav – he started packing; the preparations included saying the additional blessings that he knew would ensure him safe travel, a meaningful stay and prompt return back home.

Olyechka stands semi-naked in the glass window facing the canal; her long eight-hour shift has just started. Some would maybe dispute the legitimacy of prostitution as a profession, but Olyechka has been keeping the books accurately – keeping the track of the rent, the payments and similar, she was paying her taxes and from the point of view of the city administration she was a regular taxpayer; personally, she didn’t care about anything else.

Yesterday, she was lucky; some English tourist paid her hundred and fifty Euros to tape her while she was kneeling in front of his unzipped pants. Olyecka presumed he would upload this video of ephemeral vice online, but she didn’t care – her native village was in the isolated depths of the Russian countryside.

Baruch never thought there was such a quarter where everything, even love, is on sale – and that inexpensively. What he felt when his eyes met with Olyechka’s, when he sank in the depth of her blue eyes, was like a strong dizziness. He felt the long established centre of his equilibrium shatter, shaken by some dark force and pushed down the abyss of an overpowering excitement of a kind he had never tasted before.

Olyechka gazed at the cumbersome man in the black kaftan – the clothes he wore reminded her of the family pictures long hidden from the world, for fear of being expelled to Siberia, even further into the depths from where the family already lived. She felt something like shame and covered her bare breast.

That night, in her rented room, Olyechka will cry, weeping into the plumage of her feather pillow.

I don’t know why I happened to be there, in Amsterdam, where someone else’s dreams interlaced with the dreams from which I hadn’t yet awoken. Walking by the canals, I accidentally stepped on a shadow of an untold story: having pierced it with my heel, I became an unwilling witness of an unlived love. Lop-sided facades of nearby houses wrinkled in the murky mirror of the canal; a sensual semi-naked woman, standing in the window of a public house, shifted her weight from one leg to another. A hunched man, dressed as a Polish landowner from the end of nineteen century, hurried her way and the clutter of his steps broke the calm of dust.

Having arrived at the ephemeral roundabout in between dreams and reality, from the very intersection of this and some other actuality, the gothic facades began energetically dancing as I watched them: a Montenegrin national dance, prancing themselves and climbing each other’s shoulders yelling “Oyah!”

There, where there never were bridges, ad hoc an old bridge grew between two worlds and it pranced like a playful, purebred Vranac. Baruch, with a freshly shaved beard and Olyechka, her head covered with a black scarf, ran to the right and hid in Rembrandt’s house, beside the diamond factory…

Skilfully handling the rudder, the demonic ram’s headed boatman, who transports unbelievers to their eternal house, turned left; and some former me, from some former dimension in between dreams and reality, waved to the renegade lovers while holding tightly in my hand a white tissue soaked in blood.

from my third book “Devil, an unauthorized biography”, published by OKF, Cetinje ©2011 All Rights Reserved

translated to English by Steve Mangan

 note: the photograph is of the Sephardic Synagogue – one of the many i took while in Amsterdam

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Things we should bury

19 Sunday Feb 2012

Posted by moderndayruth in Essay

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

Baptist, Funeral, I Will Always Love You, Kevin Costner, New Jersey, Prague, Whitney, Whitney Houston

dedicated to my friend Jim Maher


I cried my eyes out this morning as i was watching Whitney’s casket being carried out of the funeral mass at “I Will Always Love You.”

For me, a century has died with her, the20th century in which i was born, the century that formed me…

Growing up in Prague, i had a serious teen crash on my best friend’s Martha’s older brother – and he had a crash on Whitney; its there, at their place in a medieval building in the heart of the city that i saw Whitney for the first time as the brother in question was obsessively rewinding one of her videos.

Back then, i decided that being so perfectly beautiful and with a voice that shook the earth – she must be an angel. Fast forward two and a half decades, i still believe it. Maybe a fallen one, but still – an angel.

I must say that growing up in Prague is a serious thing. Experiencing Prague at any time is a consciousness-altering experience, but spending your formative years waiting for the dawn at Charles bridge, hanging around Cafe Slavia where artists meet (and where late Vaclav Havel met Olga, to whom he will write letters during the years in prison), listening to their conversations about city’s mysteries, absorbing it all like a sponge – the words, the colors, the odors… That shapes your eyes in a way that not a single life experience later on can divert them from seeing the reality through this magical prism, and for me personally – from hearing it to the tunes of Whitney’s songs.

Many years later, my first real love will ask me for what would turn out to be our last dance at her ‘I Will Always Love You’…

And we danced a lot in five years that we were together, and we laughed a lot and we traveled a lot -to many unusual and off-beaten-track places… until the wars divided our country, until tanks stood between us, until we were torn apart by forces we were too young to fight.

Recently, my friend Bonnie Cehovet told me that i should speak of love and of hurt… but i can not, i still can not look back.

I survived only because i disowned the past and my personal history together with it. It was impossible to go on living remembering the blood, the tears, the graves, columns of refuges, the burned villages left behind. Its impossible to internalize that pain and despair, its impossible to go on living while your soul is wounded and bleeding.

I turned my back to all that once was, i dismissed everything i was, because otherwise those memories would have buried me alive.

What i kept was boxes – and these couple of boxes moved with me as i moved around the world. I never opened them, but what was inside was the only prove that my life was not just a dream, dreamed by someone else than myself.

There were letters in those boxes, and photographs and diaries… and i haven’t opened them until yesterday, until i felt its the time to do so.

We spoke with Jim on what shall be done with all this things that we keep with a belief that by doing so we are in a way keeping our own selves, preventing our beings from falling apart.

I went through the letters, the photographs, the diaries… and i realized there wasn’t the need to hide them until now, nor there is a need to keep them any longer because they had been engraved inside me, they had been tattooed on my heart, they have been the very silken veil on my eyes through which i see the world…

For when the time comes for us to leave – we won’t be able to take anything with us – except that veil each of us has weaved from the remnants of memories of things that once were.

Rest in peace Whitney.

Copyright notice: The photograph is of the reading i did this morning with Osho Zen Tarot – First Publication Copyright© 1953, OSHO International Foundation. Copyright© – all revisions 1953-2012 OSHO International Foundation. All Rights Reserved.

Related articles
  • Whitney Houston’s journey ‘home’ ends with a private burial (news.blogs.cnn.com)
  • Kevin Costner remembers Whitney Houston; Kevin Costner speaks at funeral of Whitney Houston (sugarslam.com)
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Politically Correct Journey of the Hero III

17 Friday Feb 2012

Posted by moderndayruth in Satire, Tarot

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

American Idol, Hebrew alphabet, Hero, Suit of Cups, Suit of Swords, Super Bowl, Tarot, Tree of Life

Prior to proceeding with the further protocolar meetings – the hero was approached by numerous lobbyists groups and organizations attempting to influence his decision on whom to meet next – Strength or Justice.

Before the Hero ran for his life (that is – engaged in the  terrestrial locomotion allowing him to move rapidly and thus preserve self-sustaining processes that distinguished him from organisms in which such functions have ceased )   he got introduced to the history of magical orders active in Great Britain during the late 19th and early 20th centuries and their ciphered founding documents with detailed outlines of the Grade Rituals;

the latter presumably were  based on some ancient qabalistic diagram to which they referred to as ‘Tree of Life‘ (whatever that was); he was also given introduction to the earliest esoteric Judaic texts as well as to the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet and their respective  correspondences to  ‘American Idol’ winners through the years,  global television viewership of the Super Bowl, the 158 verses of Greece’s national anthem and golf ball’s 336 dimples.

The Hero was breathless (which is – lacking involvement in the process that moves air in and out of the lungs ) when he ran into the protest expressing objection to the Tarot Trump switch.

Minors of the Suit of Swords, followed by the Suit of Cups and led by their respective Court representatives – Kings, Queens, Knights and Pages – marched around carrying slogans:

Birthright Sequence

Waite was clueless

Occupy VIII

Karma is a bitch

Simultaneously, Minors of the Wands and Pentacles Suits in a counter-protest chanted:

Libra comes after Leo

Old decks – no numbers

Crowley was clueless

And while the Pages were running around shouting loudly, the Twos held the silent vigil, the Fives educated the public and the Nines were handling disruptive behavior – Justice and Strength themselves could not be seen anywhere…

As the Hero stood flabbergasted at this ongoing historical cross-cultural confusion, which threatened to turn his journey into an epic  –  a genre foreign to his postmodern minimalist views – a mysterious figure wearing hooded cloak approached him and gave him a sign to follow them.

Without much hesitation, the Hero obeyed – at this point his animal companion, who justifiably felt rather neglected in the narrative, started suspecting that the Hero might be, so to say, one card short of a deck and considered expressing his respectful disagreement with the course of events by banging his head against the nearby brick wall.

Another issue which concerned the loyal animal companion –  and the main motive behind his joining the Hero on the journey –  was a rather urgent matter; it was brought to his attention that the overall use of animal metaphors in traditional Tarot artwork was disparagingly simplistic – and, in some cases, even discriminant.

In the case of the Trump called Strength – the lion was depicted as an uncivilized and  unrestrained creature whose nature needed to be tamed by his manipulative owner for some irrational and unacceptable reasons.

Sadly,  up to this point the Hero has not shown concern with the the worthy cause and the loyal animal companion was starting to despair when a billboard caught his attention: Pips for the Ethical Depiction of Animals.

Meanwhile, the Hero was following the cloaked character walking briskly in front of him…

Unexpectedly, his mysterious guide stopped, turned around and – facing the Hero – removed the hood with a sudden movement.

To Hero’s amazement, in front of him was standing an attractive brunette.

Hold on – the Hero said, while reaching for his Pocket Tarot Bible which he carried with him at all times; he sought for Trumps Index and soon was holding his finger at the section titled The Hermit – you are supposed to be an elderly gentleman with untrimmed beard, he continued.

The Hermitess laughed heartily and asked in a sarcastic tone: And you believed it?

*TO BE CONTINUED*

Related articles
  • Politically Correct Journey of the Hero I (moderndayruth.wordpress.com)
  • The Mary-El Tarot (bonniecehovet.wordpress.com)
  • When the Tarot Trumps All (nytimes.com)
  • The Politically Correct Journey of the Hero II (moderndayruth.wordpress.com)
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The Politically Correct Journey of the Hero II

15 Wednesday Feb 2012

Posted by moderndayruth in Satire, Tarot

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

Antisocial personality disorder, Charioteer, Hero, Hollywood, Joseph Campbell, Mental Health, Monomyth, Sphinx

As our liberal and open minded Hero was travelling further…

At this point, the narration was briefly interrupted by Hero’s personal PR& Principal Secretary, who called everyone’s attention to the following authorized press release:

In order to maintain the positive reputation of the Hero on whose journey, laid with unexpected turns, the only constants proved to be his purity of intent – and thus, to avoid as much as possible the inappropriate interpretations of his story as well as undesirable and potentially harmful influence on the audience, hereby we state the following:

Throughout his journey the Hero has remained aware of and responsible to his previous commitments and duties – the journey itself was undertaken during the sabbatical endorsed by the Human Recourse Department of the Reputable Corporation at which he has spent years as one of the highest performing employees. 

The Reputable Corporation, upon Hero’s request, has agreed to endorse his journey which is viewed as a contribution towards his coming back refreshed and becoming an even better employee.

Last but not the least, the Hero was regularly calling his mother.

Thank you for your attention. 

The next character Hero was to meet was – The Trump Previously Known As Hierophant, who meanwhile had left the chains of religions dogma and had become an Universal Spiritual Eclectic.

With one of his former two official followers, who so inappropriately used to be portrayed kneeling, he co-authored the best-selling horror novel: “Memories of an altar boy”;  all three of them have had became co-founders of a non-profit organization assisting voluntarily cult exit and thought reform which became widely known for its information-oriented approach.

After having acquainted the Hero with the moving story of his life – The Trump Previously Known As Hierophant introduced him to Sisters&Wives – The Trump Previously Known As Lovers.

Upon their public refusal to continue denoting hard choices and temptations of the heart, TTPKAL became well know televangelists; as a modern polyamorous family unit they used the onstage appearances to condemn the culture glorifying unnecessary sacrifice and stemming from it traumatic ramifications.

TTPKAL kept fighting the social prejudices and spreading a powerful spiritual message  in the framework of the campaign: We can have our cake and eat it!

Numerous qualified social researchers and – most importantly – several Hollywood celebrities have credited this very campaign in becoming the long overdue catalyst of change and consequent global paradigm shift from limited understanding of choices to comprehensive acceptance of alternatives.

Next non-conforming to traditional modes of conduct trio on Hero’s journey was the Charioteer and the two Sphinx; in order to meet them the Hero traveled to Egypt where all three had chose to spend their retirement.

The Charioteer shunned away from his title but choose to keep it for valid publicity reasons – he authored the book ” How to Win Friends and Influence Tarot Minors For the Highest Good of Everyone Involved” in which was given a chronological account of his struggle to overcome the unsympathetic public image.

In their turn – both Sphinx claimed their share of responsibility in Charioteer’s former lack of popularity by admitting their being affected with an antisocial personality disorder common in mythical creatures whose image was exploited in popular culture; its most severe symptom – the tendency to disturb travelers with unreasonable riddles has being overcome during the course of behavioral therapy which included their volunteering as  independent travel guides to Giza Pyramids.

Copyright©2012 Lena Ruth Stefanovic
All Rights Reserved

English: Great Sphinx of Giza, Egypt. Español:...

Image via Wikipedia

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  • Politically Correct Journey of the Hero I (moderndayruth.wordpress.com)
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A Letter of Love

15 Wednesday Feb 2012

Posted by moderndayruth in Uncategorized

≈ 2 Comments

an apology: its funny that you actually can have a PARTIAL GIFT… i can write about most things, but not about feelings, as my own are too overwhelming to be worded. I never wrote about love, real love – the furthest i’ve gone is a short story about brief cyber relationship. Could be because i am raised in a culture which doesn’t encourage expressing feelings – and more so, strongly oppresses the outward expressions of love and intimacy. I spent most of the day yesterday thinking of how to word the awe and admiration i feel for you, wonderful people, my fb friends and fellow bloggers… and all i could come up with was a digitally altered photo of my furbaby. This morning i got a beautifully worded message which themagnificentsomething addressed to his friends… and i reblogged it for you because i can make you laugh, and thanks goodness for that – but words fail me when i try saying how much you mean to me.
Love,
Lena

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Happy V-Day to all from mdr& Manja

14 Tuesday Feb 2012

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Posted by moderndayruth | Filed under Uncategorized

≈ 4 Comments

Politically Correct Journey of the Hero I

13 Monday Feb 2012

Posted by moderndayruth in Satire

≈ 12 Comments

Tags

Devil, Earth, Emperor, Empress, Hero, High Priestess, Magician, Tarot

A liberal and open-minded young man was having a timely stroll along what could be called – an edge of a cliff. His animal companion was somewhat concerned about this potentially hazardous undertaking, but did not want to interfere in any way with young man’s choice of the preferred extreme sports activity.

The youngster was carrying an eco-friendly bag with vegan sandwiches and reusable water bottle in it.

His rather unusual choice of colorful clothing items was widely acknowledged as a long overdue tribute to 80s punk rock stars’ costumes; his cloak had prints in all six official languages of the United Nations and, on the hem finishing it –  beside the embroidered Hebrew letter Shin, was its Arabic equivalent.

Upon acquiring the needed permission for non-commercial use of the copyrighted material, formerly inappropriate WASPy sun above his head was covered with United Colors of Benetton billboard  and it was shining the optimal amount of light over the organically grown rose the Hero was carrying in his left hand.

On his way, he first encountered a non-mainstream practitioner of religion, working on his abilities to affect change by using means considered to be supernatural by majority of the population; in view of the latter, the Magician was granted status of religious minority and all stemming from it communal privileges.

On the table in front of the Magician were laying the following items: a knife made of eco-friendly substitute for plastic, a recyclable glass cup, a wand from certification-verified responsibly managed forest and a nickel free pentacle; he seemed so immersed in his work that Hero felt it inappropriate to interrupt him and walked by.

After the Magician, he met a gender conscious female member of the priesthood. She was sitting in front of an universal congregation constructed of materials indigenous to the area and reading a comprehensive scripture meant for followers of monotheistic and polytheistic religions alike – with special sections added for Atheists and  Satanists.

On Hero’s question which path to take further, the High Priestess choose not to make a statement either in favor of or against any of the perspective paths, albeit she did suggest  that all paths are equally valid.

Next, Hero came upon a democratic female monarch –  a bike riding kind of royal whom you get to see in the streets on a daily basis. The Empress was busy with organic gardening – she was growing several grains acceptable for a gluten-free diet –  corn and rice among them.

Upon Hero’s request, she gave a brief intro into Archetypes’ Gender Equality and a lecture on movements aimed at establishing and defending equal interpretative meanings of Female Tarot Courts. At the end, the Empress added few thoughts on harm done to Male Tarot  Courts by sexism and gender roles and escorted the Hero towards her stay-at-home-husband, the Emperor.

The Emperor was the main caregiver of his and Empress’ children as well as the homemaker of the Court; he introduced the Hero to responsible parenting and shared couple of tips for low cost yet healthy cooking before seeing him off to his next appointment…

*TO BE CONTINUED*

Copyright©2012 Lena Ruth Stefanovic
All Rights Reserved


NOTE: An original card from the tarot deck of Jean Dodal, a classic “Marseilles” deck. The deck dates from 1701-1715. This image is in the public domain because its copyright has expired.

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February 2012
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