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astrroloaries · 4 years

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♦ mini tarot readings for signs - 2020 ~ pt.1

Take into consideration that not all messages will resonate, take what resonates leave the rest, also these readings will most accurately apply to Rising/Ascendant signs, but you can read for both Risings and Sun signs.

Aries Rising/Sun:

7 of cups – With the 7 of cups Aries risings/suns will have many lovely opportunities and choices to make. Be careful of being clouded of seeing the clear line between letting your head up in the clouds and reality, you need to make a very visible line, take in what your imagination offers, what you have been daydreaming, calculate the advantages and disadvantages and pursue it in the best way possible you can, step by step. You will be presented with lovely opportunities you just need to settle for a decision that will be fruitful in the long run not just temporarily. Daydreaming and fantasizing may make you lose focus and purpose, so clear your head and get into action. Regarding love, you also need to make a very thought-out decision, you will be presented with plenty of choices, but be careful and protective of yourself, this is a card of temptation as well, if you want a serious commitment think it through and choose the best option for the long haul. The Star – Throughout 2019 or the last months of 2019 you might have been experiencing challenging hardships, but that now is over and with the Star come blessings and divine timing to recognize your inner strength, resilience and power. This card is a sign that things are happening as they should, the Universe is sending you a message through this to have faith and hope as it is bringing you abundance, divine timing and fated things. Time for renewal. Queen of Swords – I think with this card, Aries risings/suns will recognize their intellectual prowess and combine, balance their compassion with their rationality. In 2020 a lot of questions will be answered, and you will be able to make clear judgements, unbiased and with a lot of thought put into it, relying on facts instead of just butting right in. I feel this calming energy, the Queen of Swords is the most masculine out of the Queens but she also holds this patience I sense because she is not quick to say nonsense but rather investigate, put thought into it and make a very clear judgement. Generous and cerebral.

Taurus Rising/Sun:

4 of Pentacles – You always work hard and have been working hard and most of us including you guys we get into a state of fear even paranoia of losing all that, losing all that is known and comfortable but stable and secure. In regards of that be careful of not being overly possessive or overly obsessive over work or any area of life that you have been working hard on and you have gained major results. You can maintain that and stay grounded at the same time, loosen the fear and work on yourself, keep holding it dear because you have been nurturing it and it is finally paying off but be careful not to cross over the rails. The Magician – Oh great! Realize and become aware of your full potential and use it. It is great willpower, it is you realizing that you can tap into the resources that are presented to you from different worlds, the spiritual and material worlds, you can be the portal of those two worlds and benefit from those resources that they provide. You have the power to manifest something using spiritual methods but also working hard on it in the physical world. It is bound to happen. Also in love, the Magician gives great excitement for new opportunities and a great deal manifesting for a new, great person, just take on those opportunities and enjoy the ride. Ace of Pentacles – Wow, 2020 is looking great for you guys! New beginnings, slow developments when it comes to money, career/school wise, you will be successful and fruitful, slowly you will be paving your way to the top. Abundance, hard-work, focus, determination all of that is coming in for you and your path, your journey. Seeds will be planted and you will need to nurture them, grow them in order to keep your stability and security, anything that starts with this card is for the long-run and fruition. Prosperity, new ventures, growth.

Gemini Rising/Sun:

9 of Pentacles – You will start off and hopefully continue this year feeling great, joyful, confident, independent and lucky, successful. 2020 will bring you great abundance, may I mention and tap into the material world as well, money, success, you will be a magnet for joyous and money-rewarding things. But you’ve been through it maybe in 2019 or further back, you’ve been through some hardships so keep that experience close to heart to it can keep you grounded and grateful for when these blessing arrive. You will need to go through some other phases in 2020, because it is still a 9, which means you still need to complete other small missions in order to finish with completion – a 10. Knight of Pentacles – You will absolutely be very much focused, efficient and happy to create kind of small, useful routines in order to get you success. You will take things more seriously, you will work hard, you will take on projects in which you are completely sure, in which you will achieve fruition and success not just momentarily but in the long-run. You will just be aware of the duties you have and will take full responsibility of things, you will be less scattered and more present, less aloof and more so 100% in it. Knight of Swords – 2 knights huh? Well you will be able to balance some things in 2020, as I mentioned above you will be very much hard-working and focused, but also you charms and communicative skills will come in handy with your success. With the Knight of Swords, people will pay attention when you speak, because he is so charming, witty and clever, also funny. You will know in which moments to relax, you will be a bit impatient sometimes a bit naughty may I say? Because you will want to take risks, but take calculated risks, where you are aware of consequences and you can deal with them. You will take on something, head on, just also be ready for those consequences. Action, excitement.

Cancer Rising/Sun:

4 of Wands – Aw! I see you realizing how important quality time with family and friends is. I mean you already knew this, but you will actually do something about it now, like actually do it. That will help you strengthen so many bonds. Also maybe throughout 2020 some Cancer risings/suns will get married or attend ceremonies of such importance in 2020, where they will be surrounded with love, strong bonds, relationships, family. Also in the matter of love, they may be meeting someone they feel as a “home” person, or will take their already existing relationship with someone to the next level and actually admit how important that person is to them. Maybe some of you if single will find love on those ceremonies I mentioned before, gatherings, weddings and whatnot. 5 of Swords – Oh! I think with the 4 of wands now we are at a 5 of Swords and I get this message immediately, that you will learn and actually check yourselves, maybe you’ve been selfish or egotistical in recent past events, or in 2019, where you focused too much on work or just did some selfish things without realizing it to those closest to you, so in 2020 you will really focus on relationships, people and bonds. I think you will head your ambition in the right path in 2020 instead of sneaky ways. More soul less ego in 2020. Strength – Wow everything is connected. This is a special card to me personally. In 2020 after many hardships you’ve been through, you’ve also been there for people throughout the years now the Universe will pay that back, you will become aware of your inner strength. You will be able to tame your inner demons, your inner beast. Your compassion will be rewarded, you are a truly patient, fearless person and that is amazing. In love, I really see you, well most of you, settling down in 2020, with this card it tells me it’s going to be so playful, romantic, passionate. You will be able to be soft for each other, tame each other. A strong bond, really.

Leo Rising/Sun:

6 of Pentacles – Oh lovely! You will be very generous and giving or someone who you’ve helped in the past, maybe in 2019 will be returning it wholeheartedly. It’s all about sharing, but it is important to realize in 2020 that you should not be used, or taken advantage of because you can be naïve and just want to be there for people who may not really deserve it. So in 2020 make it both-sided. Queen of Wands – You will be very courageous and individualistic, you will be granted a lot of creative prowess and ideas that you will want to pursue, which is great. Also your energy, most of 2020 will be very joyful, you will bring excitement and joy to others, an uplifting, inspiring energy for sure. Also, go for that plan you want to pursue and accomplish, you will have a push. Be careful with your money, the Queen is fiery and a bit reckless with spending. But also 2020 may be a year where you will look for meaning of things, search of something, spiritually. Also when it comes to love, stop worrying about how you appear, your energy is looking amazing, just let yourself flow and lessen your over-thinking about how you appear, just let yourself into the world. The High Priestess – 2020 may be a very spiritually rich year for you. With the High Priestess, listen to your intuition more and more each time, trust it, trust the signs you see that the Universe sends you, like songs you notice, a sequence of numbers, names you hear, just signs of those sorts. You will gain so much knowledge, you will tap into the subconscious this 2020. You will be on a spiritual journey of awakening that I am loving. This is definitely a message to trust the process and let yourself gain knowledge, mysticism.

Virgo Rising/Sun:

10 of Swords – Oh, 2019 has maybe been painful and hurtful to you guys. Or maybe recent past not necessarily just 2019. You’ve been hurt, disappointed, stabbed in the back way too many times. But also this card is a 10, which means completion, this cycle of pain, suffering and lesson learning is coming to an end, it is ending and you’ve just gained experience, lessons and resilience and strength. It is time for a new chapter, you’ve been released into a completely new book perhaps not just a new chapter, you can write it however you want right now, also use those lessons you’ve learned. Ace of Swords – Aces are beginnings, which is connected haha, we have a 10 and after it an Ace. New beginnings, you will be sharp, on your feet, determined, focused, very intellectually ready and thirsty for knowledge, eager to step into new fields. If some of you want closure for whatever happened during those 10 of swords, during that pain, you will get it, because with the Ace of Swords questions you’ve wondered about get answered, but you will be victorious do not worry, you will be able to take it. Generally Ace of Swords is victory as well. You will ease yourself from all that anxiety and over-thinking and achieve clarity. Queen of Cups – Those painful experiences surely opened your heart as well, which is such a positive thing! Virgo Risings/Suns are usually Mercurial – very cerebral, rational, detail-oriented, but in 2020 you will also tap into your vulnerable side, but with total control, you will balance out the rational and emotional effortlessly. You will be more compassionate, grounded, more sympathetic with others and yourself, you will learn more self-love, self-respect and being kinder to yourself as well. Also try to listen to your intuition more frequently it is always right!! You will get to that calm state of heart and mind. In regards to love, tapping into your more feminine side (regardless of gender we all have feminine and masculine energies), your intuition and compassion you will be attracting a lot of people, including toxic, dependant ones so be alert to state your boundaries and not drain yourself with such people, but you will have a lot of admirers to choose from. Those who are already in relationships, your relationship will deepen and gain more intimacy.

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streetsofsecrets-a · 4 years

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TW: the n-word - both forms of it, a general discussion of explicit historical racism, and domestic abuse.

--Bedford Stuyvesant, 1961.

Grandaddy had rings, but she was not given the privilege to do anything except look on. Now once upon a time, great admiration was tied to her wistful gazes. However since Ms. Bedel moved in, those days came to an end.

Now Ms. Bedel had a name, which was “Lucille Tallulah Masters-Bedel.” Delores did not know how a person could have two last names but apparently, Bedel was the last name of her dead husband. How could she bring herself to reside with a new man when love was supposed to last forever? Delores did not know - and was not allowed to ask, for that matter.

In fact Delores Littlejohn, a young girl of seven, was prohibited from pushing out her lips and daring to sound out Lu, because the hand of this old woman would come flying before she could say cille. Not her mother, and not ever going to be her mother, this adult insisted she be called Ms. Bedel. If the youth desired to be more casual there was always, “ma’am” that could be said in place. Now, being a quiet, obedient (and as her grandfather would sometimes put it, “simple”) little thing, Delores never thought of doing anything other than what was said.

Any other young girl would see Ms. Bedel as a fat haggard woman set in her ways, but Delores honestly thought there were no flaws in Grandaddy’s lover. If there were, she certainly could not detect them. Appreciation factored into this child’s blind ignorance, because after all: Ms. Bedel was the one who bathed her at the end of each day, detangled her hair, fixed she and her Grandaddy dinner, ensured she wore “baby doll” dresses, and eventually, Delores had the honor of being among her jewelry.

It was absolutely exciting to watch thick fingers pull out a wooden key and insert it into the jewelry’s box slot for the first time. Then, with a turn, it was opened and treasures were right before her eyes.

If somebody said, “don’t do that,” Delores would not engage in whatever was before her. If somebody said, “don’t speak,” Delores would never open her mouth. Thus to be enabled - to have rings and necklaces and earrings capable of touching and tracing with her fingertips - filled her little body with utmost delight. She knew she was privileged and she would use every ounce of it. Also while basking in this privilege, Delores would realize there existed differences between a man’s ring and a woman’s.

Granddaddy’s rings were thick accessories of solid colors: more often than not the dimmest shades of silver and gold. So dull it was almost if they were old decorations that lost what could once make them shine. There were a few bumps - prongs, and frankly they just looked downright sad in contrast to Ms. Bedel’s prized possessions that shined. That shimmered.

Her earrings dangled, shaped from gold. Her rings had what she thinks are authentic, real diamonds protruding in the center. And her necklaces? They were full of the beautiful little rocks, as well.

“Where do these come from?” Delores would ask.

“Child, everything you see before you has a story.”

“During the Harlem Renaissance, I held a man named Aliki Eliopoulos in the palm of my hand. He was bronze, Greek, and thought we could make it through the odds. Hmpfh. He was unaware that I had no intentions with him. One night, he found me after the curtain closed and he presented this. This necklace is dear to me…I suppose because I never quite knew where Aliki went.”

Ms. Bedel missed the discomfort worn on the child’s face, too caught in her own reflections. Really, what Delores desired to hear were the literal tales of the source where all that glittered came from, and furthermore she had wondered who was skilled enough to make such beautiful things.

“This engagement ring - not a wedding ring - engagement, was given to me by my first husband. To accept it would mean I would make a vow to remain pure for him. He knew of my past, and knew that even if I couldn’t right my wrongs, I could try to start over in his name. I think he had that idea because he was Catholic - hmfph. I don’t believe in true love. I’m a jaded woman…Delores.” Ms. Bedel did not say her name to end the statement, she was calling to her. Sharply, at that.

“Ma’am?”

“Don’t follow in my footsteps.”

Feeling the intensity of her gaze, Delores found herself disliking this conversation. Purposely, she shies away from talk of vows and purity, focusing on the piled riches. Noticing the green-centered ring that lays amongst gold and rubies. The longer Delores stared into it, the more she began to notice lighter streaks struck out. “Like thunder n’ lightening,” she thought before wondering -

“Ms. Bedel, where did that ring come from?”

“This -” she lifts it, studies it almost as if it was an artifact. Indeterminable. “This belonged to my mother.”

“Did her husband give it to her, too?”

“My mother was never married.” With that unpleasant remark came a pause that Delores felt lasted forever, however Ms. Bedel spoke again: clear and without strain, “she emerged from a place in Mississippi so unimportant that it can’t even be defined by a name.” Delores felt bad for asking, it sounded as though Ms. Bedel did not care for her mother let alone Mississippi. “Do you know what slave labor is?”

At the height of her discomfort, Delores nodded. When she was but the age of five her granddaddy decided it was time she learn how Africans, not even colored people, Africans were chained like dogs and brought to America. After that, they were bound to pick cotton all day long in the sun. That was slave labor, her mind decided.

“After I was born, my mother didn’t want to stay in No Mans, Mississippi, and took me with her as she journeyed North. Of course, being a colored woman, she didn’t have the luxury of driving or having a fortune to get her there in an instant. Hmpfh. So she worked as a maid here and there until she reached New York. And there was one white woman she worked for that was just downright nasty.” The word gets pronounced like a snarl, and her gaze is particularly intense. “She…that woman sat so high on her horse, that she had my mother feeding her baby through her teat.”

Delores’ face scrunched: not understanding what was said to her just the right amount to be puzzled - yet understanding just enough to be both bewildered and uncomfortable. “From time to time my mother would take little things from the house. Sugar, flour. But before we left Kentucky and never looked back, she deserved something more in return, and this was it. And after my mother passed on, this has been with me ever since…” Suddenly Ms. Bedel takes to a soft and tender tone, “try it on.”

Not only soothed by a preferable tone, Delores was elated. Felt like she was ascending to new heights: practically skipping from seven years old to seven in a half!

“Oh…” Ms. Bedel’s thick lips push out with sympathy, onyx eyes hold traces of adoration. “It’s too big for you…” Looking at how the ring hang heavy on her index was a pitiful sight in itself - for Ms. Bedel to point out the obvious causes Delores’ joy to further deflate.

“My fingers are too little…” Delores feels like a baby, a fresh six at best.

“Maybe..” Ms. Bedel takes the child’s hand into her own, covering it in love. “One day you’ll grow into it.”

-------

If Ms. Reed was kind, then Ms. Bedel should have been thought of as a saint. Because unlike many of her classmates, Delores was not fond of her teacher. At all.

She could not explain why even if she wanted to, just knowing her educator maintained a bit of an indifferent air when it came to her. Ms. Bedel could have this similar demeanor, Ms. Bedel could even holler at her: but underneath each treatment, Delores sensed that love was there. Delores was sure Ms. Bedel would forever and always be someone as special as Granddaddy - after all, it was through her that Delores learned of a love that existed for all that shined.

There began to come occurrences when after taking the hot-comb to her hair, Ms. Bedel would take one of the necklaces and fasten it around her little neck. Granddaddy would sneer, stating she was making Didi into a fast-tail girl and, Winston would agree once he moved in. Although Winston and Granddaddy were separated by generations, their “masculinity” gave their stance a high sort of power. If Granddaddy thought she was fast, if Winston thought she was fast, then it was so. And with that official, not even a ring could slide on her little finger.

Delores did not like change, but it did not mean she disliked her cousin. Still, she was not joyous to have her cousin residing under the same roof as her, either. Previously she caught wind of how adults would make statements of being “lonesome” when you’re the sole child of the household, but Delores thought she could never be lonely: not when she had Granddaddy. Not only that, but from time to time she heard how lucky she was to be an only child because had she had siblings, certain things would not have been purchased. Instead, sacrifices would have had to be made, as Granddaddy said himself.

And how sacrifices came with Winston’s presence.

He slept on the couch while Delores kept her room. But breakfast was smaller. Lunch and dinner too. She had to be tolerant, patient, when her cousin sat by her side and bastardized the personalities of her beloved dolls. His rough housing even lead to the tearing of Marilyn! And even though tears fell on her pillow that night - by sunrise, she forgave him.

One of the most noticeable changes were in how Ms. Bedel seldom spoke to her anymore. Oh, never did the adult say don’t talk to me, Delores simply acknowledged the body language. The expressions. With that she concluded she was not wanted around, unaware of the hostile conversations that took place between the adults of the household. Still, considering all the changes that had occurred under this roof, Delores gradually reached the conclusion the last time she had been happy was when she could admire diamonds right from the palm of her hand. It felt good to not only having Ms. Bedel in a warmer state, but it made up for the struggles school would inflict on her.

Some days were better than others, but this day was particularly awful. Having outright been backhanded by Lenora during Duck, Duck, Goose, Delores had returned home with low spirits. In the beginning, among the other children in glee, she could feel the tension build. Each moment was a thrill - no one knew who the Goose would be - but there was nothing playful, or thrilling, about Lenora’s hand suddenly flinging into her face. Not head, face.

Five fingers left a powerful sting and even a faint mark that would cause her to avert her eyes and shrug when adults asked about it’s origins. Yes, Delores understood it was a part of the game, but given how Lenora usually treated her, she doubted this was a mistake. Still, she did not say anything. She did not even cry - not really. Instead after getting settled, Delores shyly - oh so shyly, approached Ms. Bedel as she laid down a bowl of steaming soup for Winston. Having been ill, he did not go to school that day.

“Ms. Bedel,” she began meek and soft, “can I see your diamonds?“

The look that came on Ms. Bedel’s face looked as though she could just retch. But ignorant, Delores did not know how her crime in asking this was in how Winston was among her. Naive, she was not even aware how Winston’s eye size doubled at the sound of, “diamonds.” And clueless, Delores did not know how Ms. Bedel, if anything, saw Amos’ grandson as a troublemaker. One of those boys you had to warn about your additional pair of eyes that saw all. “Yes.” Ms. Bedel comes to answer with a struggle, “yes you may. But put everything back as found. Do you hear me? Everything."

“Yes Ms. Bedel.” And with that, Delores was on her way.

It was in fact a mistake for Ms. Bedel to even allow this because jewelry box in arms, she moved herself to her own bedroom and shut the door. Alone and secluded, Delores would find that rings and necklaces would detract from her bruise. She couldn’t wait until she had her own to possess when womanhood finally approached, as she concludes that everyday would be spent in happiness. And when she took everything back as told, Delores really did believe every diamond, earring, and necklace was where it needed to be.

“Ever since you took that boy in he’s been nothin’ but trouble! He wasn’t even sick on Tuesday, he was connin’ your ass!”

“I didn’t know you was a doctor, thought you just played one once!”

“I was with him that entire day! I could see him running and jumping and actin’ a fool! Maybe if you weren’t trying to run the street with your old ass-”

“Woman! Y’don’t know a GATDAM thing you talkin ‘bout!”

This was not an argument that could be ignored. It was clear as the siren of a distant ambulance: both children could hear as it echoed through the walls and it summoned them both to sit - well, in Winston’s case, crouch - outside the elder’s bedroom. Would Delores say Winston was trouble? Although he tore Marilyn that one time - no, not really. The passing of days would have her find the perks in having him around.

“Look - damn you Amos, look! My ring is gone!! I know that lil’ nigger took it and he probably sold it to some - some hustler!” Oh. “You should have seen him - the way he was looking when Didi mentioned I had diamonds. I could just about read his mind!” With each infuriated word, Delores finds herself unable to stop quivering. Her heart’s bumps are even audible against her ears. This, she knows, was not Winston’s fault at all.

“He’s a boy, who he gon’ sell it to? He prolly done gave it to some lil’ girl!”

“Amos! Why are you defending that little nigger?!”

For Delores, the sound of skin hitting skin was horrific. However, it was not a new sound for Winston. In contrast to his gaped mouth, she cringed as if she saw the impact of Granddaddy’s hand, and as she notices how Winston stretches his legs and places his palm against the door knob she whines low, but nonetheless frightful, “Winny, no!” As he ignored her, Delores decided that if Winston would get himself in trouble for getting in grown folk’s business, she wanted no part in it. So she did not peek, consequently sparing herself from the sight of her grumpy and nonchalant grandfather in a different state far different than what she was accustomed to.

He had one fist raised and another fist clutching at hair. “Y’goddamn bitch.” He sneered,

“y’ain’t gonna keep standing here and keep callin’ my grandson outta his name. Bitch, y’got one more time t’do that-” His fist shook. Though he was old, he was strong. “And I’ma drag you outta here like this.” Her clothes could be flung out the window for all he cared, “keep on talkin’ about some itty bitty ring. Keep on.”

“I hate you.” When Ms. Bedel weeps, Delores feels her heart break. “You old son of a bitch, I don’t have to be with you. I don’t have to live here. I accepted your granddaughter, willingly, but you put that grandson on me. I’m too damn old to be going through burdens like you -” never did Delores consider herself to be a burden, however she also failed to think of the struggles old people went through beside the occasional bad knees. “I don’t even have to be with your tragic ass.” She hocked, she spat on his cheek, “get up offa me, nigga.”

Now Delores was prompted to peer in, right as her caretakers aren’t body to body. Free, Ms. Bedel is moving faster than Delores has ever seen her. Apathetic and rough, she tosses the jewelry box on the bed, grasps at coats, blouses, and furs. “Where you goin’?!”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?! Wouldn’t you like to know?!”

Don’t go… Delores bites at her bottom lip. Don’t go. She did not know where the ring of Ms. Bedel’s mother was. Truly, she thought it was safe in the box where it needed to be. Although admiring it more than anything, she would have never thought of stealing from a woman she respected. Why - if she had the chance, if she had not been frozen where she sat, Delores would find the ring. She would search the apartment up and down and present the item to her.

“Move, move!” She feels Winston grasp her shoulders as heavy feet stomped their way. Delores did not recognize what was going on, only rising because she knew in these moments that it was right, and to her bedroom they moved like mice: diving on Delores’ wooden floor. Whether Ms. Bedel saw or not was obvious to anyone other than them.

“When y’find that damn thing-” Granddaddy followed her, not caring about the wide eyes of children. “You can’t never come back here. Never!”

“I don’t plan on it, Amos!” She slammed the door - and only looked back for her fine china.

After that, Ms. Bedel never thought of the Littlejohn family again.

For days, this memory would sting all three of them. Something they could not replay in their minds because it was too harsh. Delores felt bad for her cousin. He was called one of the ugliest words in the world, twice. Not only that, but he was reduced to a thief and it was all because of her own, “carelessness.” And Winston, forever denying to his irked and cynical guardian that he ever touched, let alone gazed at some old lady’s ring, would have to let his innocence be known countless times. He was bold enough to ask if he had been a burden, though. Not like Delores, who was even too much of a coward to find out Granddaddy’s true feelings about her.

As the months came and went, so did the severity of the emotional wounds of that day. Never would they forget the disaster, but they did not have to shoulder it with grit teeth. Though, one day, Delores would find something shiny below her bed. Like a calling, the light green streaks requested for her attention in an abyss of darkness. As she cupped it and brought it to light: that fateful day would hit her all over again. Silent, Delores would keep this ring. But not wear it. Not even as seven became eleven. Or eleven became thirteen. Or thirteen became sixteen.

Always, this ring was to be hidden. Forever her secret.

#( DELORES. / DRABBLES. )#( DELORES. / THE YOUTHFUL YEARS. )#( THE LITTLEJOHN FAMILY. )

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mmmmalo · 5 years

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the king/father creates/births things while the queen serves only to impregnate (him with the idea for what he will create, like a muse, if you will)? idk i hate women being reduced to their reproductive function but this also seems misogynistic somehow. also does this make roxy's ability to create objects from nothing another "she's trans" joke?

I think the discomfort you’re apprehending is discussed somewhat when Crockertier!Jane tells Jake he will only exist to sire her children? Sexual objectification is probably a more familiar experience for women, but the unease in being subsumed by some sexual function isn’t necessarily gender exclusive… (the existence of domination play attests to that probably)

This subject is probably out of my depth, but I’m going to meander a bit and hopefully say a couple useful things.

First, some clarification: “birth” is the principle of separation and “pregnancy” is the principle of union. Thus birth-as-we-know-it is rendered equivalent to ejaculation, Breathing out, pooping – all of which involve separation from that which was once part of you. Likewise the image of a gestating fetus is equivalent to taut testicles, lungs full of air, a constipated colon – states in which the union is maintained. On this level, it’s apparent that any given body can participate in both halves of the dichotomy.

But as elaborated back in the Roxy-and-Dirk post, Sburb’s queens and kings are aligned with birth and pregnancy, respectively. As per Caliborn’s enchantment, this is treated a hat-switch, a reversal of expectations on who ejaculates and who gestates. “Birth” (which Caliborn likes) is coded as masculine, so that assigning this function to the queen is met as a reversal. While “pregnancy” (for which Caliborn fetishes his disgust) is coded as feminine, so that assigning this function to the king is met as a reversal.

The problem I’m facing is evaluating whether the birth/pregnancy dichotomy (aka separation/union, aka Breath/Blood) contains an intrinsic (ie inescapable?) gendered hierarchy, or if the gendered hierarchy is imported by characters (or us) onto what is actually a gender-neutral distinction. Though there could also be a broader point that binary systems are easily co-opted as mapping to the gender binary…? So that even if a distinction “ought to be” neutral, the matter remains that it has been /rendered/ gendered?

To avoid speaking too much in terms of generalities, I’m going to reorient this discussion around John Egbert via an ask concerning the ARG:

you gotta talk about it man come on

I read the ARG as a conspiracy theory that falls in line with the kids’ paranoid fantasies. In the same way that the very real trolls function as manifestations from the psyches of those around them, the world of Homestuck is, in general, shaped by the psychological profiles of its inhabitants.

I gather this partly from the nods to an irl conspiracy (eg declaring Obama to be a cross-dimensional immigrant), but mainly because the overwhelming paranoia that defines the narrative, the conviction that the world has degenerated and that every known authority is but a feeble puppet of a nebulous overlord. Comedians Laurel and Hardy are slowly corrupted and eventually infused with Evil, resulting in the birth of the Insane Clown Posse, which is to say ICP’s low-class status translates into degenerate art within the confines of the conspiracy. Albert Einstein is renounced as a fake, whose “insights” are mere scraps cast off from a feast of truth available to some unseen master. It’s all insurmountably stupid, but there is a unifying thread:

The idea is that the world is “fallen”, in two of the senses explored via John Egbert’s fear of heights (or rather, his fear of descent).

1. John is literally afraid of heights, having fallen from the slime pogo. But John’s entry item is an apple because he experiences a pervasive sense that there is a perfect world of ideals from which he has been thrown down – a sort of intersection between the Fall of Man from the Garden of Eden and the heavenly Platonic Forms. This manifests partly in an obsession with authenticity, a subject that pervades Act 1 (x)(x). The Obama birth-certificate conspiracy attempts to frame Obama as “inauthentic”, and framing Einstein as a feeble peddler of inherited slivers of truth relies on the idea that there is a Godly figure with access to ALL the truth, a master presiding over the Pleroma. John is susceptible to this kind of thinking; after all, the paranoid idea of Betty Crocker as an Illuminati-tier omnipotent antagonist began as one of John’s funny delusions.

2. The biblical Fall is at times phrased as the corruption of humanity, and that sense carries into Homestuck. The other Heir, Equius, is revolted and titillated by that which he regards as base. His fetishization being lower class and other modes of degradation receives a visual complement in images of a falling ideal: the death-by-fall of man-horse Arthour, and Equius’s own descent through the caves of LOCAS (the circumstances of a lusus’s death and the features of a planet both bear relation to a player’s fantasies). John complicates the picture a little bit: he specifically has a fascination with “bad movies” (low status art), but also he regards the other side of the silver screen as a Pleroma of sorts, which simultaneously elevates the art.

But my goal is to demonstrate that all of this intersects with the original topic: the division of high/low is also projected onto masculine/feminine.

John wishes to undo his traumatic fall from the slime pogo, an event that has come to represent John’s fantasy of his own birth. As hinted at the start, the birth he imagines for himself is ejaculatory: Ghostbusters is “manbro bukkake theatre”, and John fancies himself a ghost busted directly from the loins of his heavenly Father. John seeks to re-merge with his image of God, a goal implicit in John’s attempts to reunite with Dad in a more familiar sense.

But implicit in John’s quest to give up the ghost and ascend to the Father is a rejection of the implicitly feminized earth and flesh, to which the self/soul is umbilically bound. This gendering is often shown via robots:

Jake jokingly says that Dirk is “more machine than man” – this is a jab at Dirk’s terse demeanor, but placing machines in opposition to manhood potentially feminizes the machines, compromising Dirk’s desiring to be a paragon of dudeliness. The simultaneous masculinization of reason and dehuminizing jabs like Jake’s confuse and frustrate Dirk for a variety of reasons

The ghost of Aradia enters robotic husk to be reborn, imitating the insertion of the spirit into the body. She then finds that Equius has inserted something into her body against her will, and violently removes it and destroys it. “It” was a chip that controlled her feelings, but the intimate violation has tones of assault, and Aradia’s heart is effectively aborted.

There’s more examples, but this is just an aside to push the notion that the Fall (from high to low) entails the entry of spirit into body, which via the analogous entry of sperm into womb would seem to gender hierarchy itself. Masculine/feminine is entrenched as high/low by the metaphysics.

(Here’s a nice post that notes a gendering of the hemocaste system in Zebruh’s Friendsim route)

This leads me into thinking that John’s desire to merge with the image of the Father is connected to his love of pranking people, insofar as it becomes a assertion of domination/power (which is presumed to be the masculine position). The prankster’s gambit, at its purest, is a measure of Who’s On Top.

At the end of the Chaos Dunk scene (in which John symbolically enacts Rose’s rape fantasies), John pranks Rose by dumping a bucket full of gushers on her head. Buckets are receptacles, and thus occupy the balls/womb half of the divide. Evacuating the bucket all over Rose is a repetition of earlier symbolic assault, and the moment is embellished with a prankster’s gambit to emphasize the notion that there is an element of domination to the encounter.

The bucket prank is echoed in a later conversation between John and Rose, beginning at page 2922. John asks repeatedly whether Rose “knows everything” now, says the beta kids “were in this adventure together” but with Rose’s occult knowledge, she is now “getting away from us”. John is not anxious that Rose is separating in a neutral way – his anxiety stems from the idea that she is rising above them. “Knowing everything” is a property of mastery, and John is confused by Rose being above him. At the end of 2922, John attempts to mock Rose’s words, but she tells him he’s being mean and he apologizes.

Rose herself expresses some anxieties about her position, saying elements of her wizard shtick have made her feel “ridiculous” or “embarrassed”. Her choice of words invokes the manifestation of Eridan, who mocks Rose’s “ludicrous poppycock” – she has an ongoing worry that her phallus (masculinized symbol of power) is fake.

This is why the scene culminates in an play scenario, in which John promises to sweep in like a noble knight and banish Rose’s encroaching grimdarkness, and Rose in turn pretends to swoon. The joke is an ironic acquiescence to the (gendered) hierarchy that is implicitly being challenged by Rose’s rise to power (or rather, that the kids perceive to have challenged). Past this, the conversation goes on to the subject of the Tumor, in a way that I have difficult tying into some sort of conclusion for the gendered aspects of the conversation.

This probably bears some relation to Rose’s insistence that John is the group’s leader…? But again, I’m at a loss. Let’s wrap this up.

On your last point: Roxy creating items from nothing actually throws a small wrench into things: in another essay on Gnosticism I was reading (Schuyler Brown’s “Begotten, Not Created”), “emanation” suggested that the creation was originally part of something (God, the One, etc), and emanation was thus framed as being in opposition to creation-from-nothing.

This brings me back to the problem of not knowing which portions of Homestuck’s metaphysics are particular to a given character’s psyche, which portions are universal, and which portions are loaded with both personal and universal meaning, or personal meaning that are /rendered/ universal. The motif of Roxy throwing a dead cat out of bucket seems to carry multiple meanings at once… in the sense we’ve noted, it would relate to the terror of stillbirth and miscarriage that follows Mom and Condy around. But reading “birth” as ejaculation, the cat could also be read as a disappointed acknowledgement that she cannot create life on her own…?

#this also contains the gist of what I gleamed from the ARG #rape cw #homestuck reread 3 #john #rose #roxy

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meditativeyoga · 5 years

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Crown Chakra Tune-Up Practice

Practice with us in person! Join us at YJ LIVE! San Diego, June 24-27, for a weekend-long occasion that will balance your body's energy centers from the ground-up. And also, obtain 15% off any pass utilizing code CHAKRA.

Integrate your entire being from head to toe to experience a large connection between your innermost self as well as all things.

Working towards knowledge may seem daunting, unrealistic, or completely past the scope of your radar. However despite whether you exercise yoga exercise to stay healthy and fit or to pursue total liberation, do not miss the possibility to discover those enlightened moments that could come via a regular practice of insight as well as positive action. An informed moment can spring forth any time, allow this technique open you to the possibility as well as prime you to witness those minutes of elegance sprayed throughout your day.

This technique is indicated to integrate right and also left, masculine and also womanly, surya and chandra, ida and also pingala (energetic networks that connect into and also through the primary channel called sushumna), and your whole being from head to toe. Utilize this assimilation to experience a large connection in between your innermost self and all things.

Crown Chakra Visualization Meditation

Begin your method seated and bring your hands into petition (Anjali Mudra) at your heart. Bring your recognition to your pelvic floor and also allow it rest there till you really feel grounded, supported, and also loosened up. Start to move your recognition up the front of your back slowly examining in and also relaxing for a minute on each chakra as you go. (Head back to the Chakra Tune-Up web page for a review.) Think of the back as a stalk or reed and also draw your awareness up with the reed. Once you reach to the crown of your head, imagine there on top of that stalk of energy a luminescent white lotus flower. One at a time start to open up each flower of the thousand-petaled lotus. Imagine as you open up the lotus that your innermost self is combining increasingly more with the cosmos. Let this occur in one of the most all-natural and also attractive way. Invest as much time in this visualization reflection as you like.

Set Your Sahasrara Intention Now established your purpose for this method. Right here are some motifs connected to the sahasrara chakra that you could want to incorporate right into your purpose: immensity, limitlessness, unity, seeing on your own in all beings to cultivate empathy, accepting your location and also your component in deep space, awakening of consciousness, open up to spiritual realizations. Do not hesitate to use any one of these or pick your very own. As long as your purpose feels true for you it has value.

Standing Prayer Backbend

Begin standing with hands in Anjali Mudra. Shut your eyes as well as take at least 5 big breaths, long and also slow down. As you inhale, really feel the energy ascend from your feet up through the crown of your head. As you breathe out, really feel the power descend from the crown of the head down into your feet. Keep in mind that this flow in between planet as well as spirit is constantly intact.

With your feet securely planted and your legs involved, start to raise from the pelvic flooring as you extend your spine upward. Raise as well as expand your upper body while drawing your shoulder blades into your ribs for a gentle heart opener. Now gracefully bring your prayer hands to the mid forehead. Feel the back body lift the front body. Energetically open up to all the capacity that the cosmos has in shop for you. Allow this development last 3-4 breaths total holding the greatest expression of this mild backbend for only one full cycle of breath. Return the restore to the heart to finish.

Warrior I + Eagle Arms

Virabhadrasana I + Garudasana Arms

From Tadasana tip your left foot back concerning 3-4 feet, turning it out to a 45-degree angle. If you have any pain in the back knee, lift the back heel for a High Lunge instead. Keep your hips settle toward the front of your mat as you bend your right knee to 90 degrees or less. Breathe in reaching your arms for Virabhadrasana I (Warrior I). Invest a breath or 2 here letting the hips open. Now bring your arms in front of you as well as stack the left arm on top of the. Snake the arms around each various other for Garudasana (Eagle) arms variation. Keeping a deep bend in the appropriate knee begin to lift the heart, arms, and also look right into a mild backbend. Maintain your feet firmly grown and based however really feeling huge, open, as well as alive! Invest 4-5 breaths below and afterwards release.

Revolved Bound Half Moon Pose

Parivrtta Baddha Ardha Chandrasana

This is a tough but gorgeous posture that enhances the cross-lateral equilibrium system, incorporates total-body recognition, and provides opportunity for opening just by softening up.

From Warrior I with appropriate foot ahead, rock your weight right into your appropriate leg and touch the flooring with your left hand. Prolong your left leg back and also your right arm up right into Revolved Half Moon Pose. You rate to remain there and develop to the bind with time. To proceed, bend your left knee and capture the left foot with your right-hand man. Locate a constant look as you kick the left foot up to raise the breast as well as open up with the heart and also right shoulder. Spend 5 breaths here. When you have the bind, soften up a little bit-- end up being receptive to the universal download as well as the posture will certainly become easier, I promise!

Baby Eagle Pose

Garudasana variation

The curling in effect of this posture brings everything back to. Visualize activation of the kundalini shakti, the serpent that rises from muladhara (root chakra) piercing each chakra as she ascends to sahasrara (crown chakra) to unlock enhanced states of consciousness.

Begin by kneeling with your toes tucked under and your sitting bones on your heels. (If you have a knee injury, keep the legs like this.) Cross your right knee over your left and location your best foot level on the flooring just outside your left thigh. Your left heel will be right at the pelvic floor currently. Once you really feel secure as well as balanced right here, return the arms to Garudasana (Eagle arms) with the left arm in addition to the right. If you really feel secure, attempt to stabilize with your eyes closed. Rather of grasping firmly, increase exterior into the energy that surrounds you. Allow this interplay of internal as well as outer advise you that you are sustained from within as well as all about. Invest 5 breaths here, after that change sides.

Saddle Pose

Use this final impersonate a possibility to feel your feet on the ground and also broaden upward in an affirmative motion of nerve as well as readiness to merge with the infinite.

Come back to a kneeling setting, rising into the balls of the feet and also brining the sitting bones to the heels. Keep your hands on the flooring for balance as you open your knees out as wide as feasible. Press the thighbones towards the back body and also the resting bones towards the front body to trigger pelvis and also legs. Bring your hands to your heart. Equilibrium there or if you are feeling truly secure, prolong your hands in Prayer up as well as above. Invest regarding 3 breaths balancing below then rest.

Seated Crown Chakra Meditation

The most practical means to link with the sahasrara chakra is through meditation. There are several schools of reflection, as well as examining an approach that benefits you is a worthwhile pursuit. Attempt to take this meditation outside or at the very least to a home window (if its cool).

For this method, begin with entering a comfortable seat. Boost the sitting bones if required so the knees are reduced than the hips and the spine can be upright. Rest your practical your knees. Take a number of long, slow-moving, deep breaths and also look throughout you. Turn your head right, left, and after that facility. Look up and down as well as take every little thing in. Notification it all. The lovely, mundane, brilliant, unpleasant, etc. Notice how whatever associates with everything else. Withstand judging circumstances, just observe and allow it be.

After numerous minutes of observing the world throughout you shut your eyes. Turn back to the internal globe currently as well as use that same observation method. With wide-open awareness observe all of on your own-- stunning, mundane, messy, fantastic, and so on, as well as allow it be. Then bring your understanding to the crown chakra. Invest a moment below observing the lotus blossom. As it opens up petal by petal, a gold light is disclosed. Allow that gold light splash down your skull and also the stalk of your spinal column. View as it expands from the spine external until it covers every cell of your being and also increases past your physical body right into whatever else. Sense that everything is made of and attached by this gold light of understanding. Remain below silently for as long as you such as. Pursue at the very least 5 mins as well as accumulate to 20 minutes.

When ended up, slowly open your eyes as well as take a couple of simple breaths, prior to lying back into Savasana. Feel the scalp, head bones and also brain unwind deeply. Leave yourself here enough time to wander into a deep and calm repose.

#asana #chakra meditation #healing #meditation #Pranayama #spiritual #Yoga #yoga retreat

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artificialqueens · 6 years

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In Sickness and In Health Ch4 - shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - okay, here goes.

first of all, i officially dedicate this chapter to my bosom buddy, partner in crime, grandma and best friend, nymph. being your friend is the only christmas present i could ask for, so here’s a christmas gift to you for being so amazing. although it’s not christmas yet, merry christmas to you

that being said, there’s so many more people i wish i could write for, unfortunately i have lots of friends and little time. so for now, all of my love and the happiest christmas wishes go out to wick and frida, dottie, ortega, fudge/nugget, luci, ace, rosie, jazz - really just all of you who have made a positive impact on my life. merry christmas to all of you <3

As expected, the palace in which Prince Ron brought them to was just as extravagant as Sharon’s, but not nearly as tasteful. Alaska found herself cringing slightly at the decor, a sentiment which Sharon echoed with her raised eyebrows. It was too colourful, too overwhelmed with gold and silver and bronze, too shiny and gaudy and clashing.

Prince Ron led them out of the grand front room into the even larger, even more decorated throne room, where he spread his arms wide with a flourish. Despite how tacky yet expensive it looked, Alaska still took it all in. At the top of the room, positioned in the centre on a curved balcony, there stood a large gilded throne, cushioned with fine red velvet. Next to it, a smaller, more slender throne stood – this one purple, edged with silver.

“Welcome back to mi casa!” He announced. “That’s French for my home.”

“No it’s –” Sharon began, but of course, the prince simply wasn’t listening. It seemed he had a habit of only acknowledging Sharon’s presence – Alaska was invisible once more – and not even listening to her when she spoke. No wonder Sharon hadn’t fallen for his supposed charm.

“See that throne up there?” Prince Ron asked, heavily draping his arm around Sharon’s slender shoulders. The force of it roughly pulled their hands apart, and Sharon almost buckled from the sudden weight on her. She was growing weaker, but Alaska knew she was doing her best to hide it.

Sharon followed his eye line. “The red one?”

He chuckled heartily. “Oh, Sharon, you jest! No, the smaller, feminine one in purple. You see it?”

“Yes.”

Prince Ron clapped Sharon on the back; yet another overly-masculine gesture that Sharon struggled to ignore. “Do you like it? After all, I’m sure it one day will be yours. You will be a wonderful queen for our kingdoms, Sharon.”

Sharon hummed, all the while shooting glances at Alaska. “I think I prefer the red.”

The prince laughed again. “When did you become so comedic? Prefer the red? Genius!” He wiped a tear from his eye. “Well, we all know red is the colour of kings, it certainly isn’t for women!”

Alaska tuned out of his pompous voice, scowling as she thought of Sharon’s penchant for red lipstick. Not for women, my ass, she thought to herself.

“I mean, could you imagine? The audacity of treating a woman in such a way! Oh, and speaking of-”

He took a deep breath, ready to perform another dreadfully heartfelt soliloquy. His hand moved to place itself above his heart.

“My, oh my, how it feels so terrible!” Prince Ron lamented. “To give a weapon to a woman! Sharon, how can I live with myself, knowing that by giving you a weapon I’m opening you up to attack? As a man – no, as a gentleman, a prince, a courtier, it is my chivalrous duty to protect a fine lady such as yourself!”

Sharon mimed gagging in Alaska’s direction, clearly unimpressed with his antics. “This fine lady doesn’t need protecting. I’m more open to attack if I don’t have a weapon, Ron. I…” She paused, as though the words were painful. “I need your help.”

Those were the fatal words. Alaska could see it was killing Sharon to say them, but they had the desired effect. Ever the desperately traditional hero, Prince Ron was taken by them immediately.

“What kind of future king would I be, not to help a lady in need? Sharon, of course I’ll help you. If you won’t accept my company, I may as well bestow upon you some of the finest weaponry I have in my possession. Come this way.”

-0-

Unsurprisingly, Alaska was forced to wait outside as the weapon dealing took place. It made sense; regardless of how close her and Sharon were becoming, she had to remember that Sharon was a member of the royal family, not any regular girl. That was why she needed to keep both her behaviour and her heart in check. Sharon was a princess. Alaska was nothing.

Before long, one of the many women in the palace walked past Alaska, doubling back once she realized she didn’t recognise her face. The woman was well-dressed, with kind eyes and a large ring weighing down one of her fingers. At Alaska’s polite smile, she struck up a conversation.

“Sorry dear, I don’t believe we’ve met before?”

Her voice was rich and smooth. Alaska’s own accent sounded horribly common in comparison.

“No, my name’s Alaska and I’m accompanying the Princess Sharon on her travels. She’s just speaking to Prince Ron.”

The woman nodded thoughtfully. “A lovely girl, really. Ever so intelligent. She’ll make a remarkable queen.”

Alaska’s heart swelled, though she tried to ignore it. “I completely agree. She’s going to be amazing when her time comes.”

A sudden sense of trepidation washed over her, cold dread beginning to trickle down her system. She refrained from speaking the awful truth that had entered her mind.

If her time comes.

It was a very real possibility that Sharon would never be Queen. It was a very real possibility that the kingdom would never gather with high spirits to watch their young princess ascend to her throne, each one of them feeling pride as though she were a member of their own family. There wouldn’t be a day off in which the streets would be adorned in colourful banners, in which traditional dances would take place in the square and in which people would drink and laugh and eat cake. There wouldn’t be groups of women discussing the coronation dress, nor groups of men wondering who will be lucky enough to take her hand in marriage.

It was a very real possibility that the kingdom would fall into mourning. It was a very real possibility that they would gather with low spirits at the bottom of the palace steps, laying down flowers in memory of the beloved princess who was gone too soon. There would be a day off in order for the funeral procession to take place, with the casket containing the body of a girl who had barely lived. There would be an influx in the demand for black clothing, and no one would be seen not paying their respects to the late princess in their finest mourning wear.

Alaska only noticed she had welled up when the woman before her asked if she was okay, and she realized that her form was now blurry with tears. Quickly blinking them away, she forced out a little laugh and nodded.

“I spaced out a little then, whoops. I’ve been waiting a while.” She gestured back to where Prince Ron and Sharon had disappeared to.

The woman nodded understandingly. “Well, would you like to follow me to our library? I was looking for somebody to help me pick my next novel.”

Eager to move away from the doorway, Alaska agreed. As it turned out, the library was equally as grand as the rest of the palace, but in much better taste. Grecian architecture was prevalent throughout, with high arches and friezes of old gods and colonnades separating the different sections. It was stunning.

For at least twenty minutes, Alaska perused the shelves, gently stroking the leather-bound spines of the books and tracing the intricate pictures with the tip of her finger. She was sure the stories inside were as wonderful as the illustrations, and longed to be somebody who could read them. Her imagination could never do them justice.

“Alaska, dear, which novel do you think I should read next?”

The woman had laid out a selection of six books on one of the large tables, and seemed to be unable to make up her mind. Alaska studied each one, wishing again that she was able to read the titles. She hadn’t the faintest idea what any of them said, or would be about. She hadn’t read a book in her life.

“Uh… that one.” She decided eventually.

The woman smiled. “Any particular reason why?”

Alaska shrugged truthfully. “The pictures are really pretty.”

As soon as the words had left her lips, she cursed herself. Really? You’re in a palace full of well-educated people and you’re talking about pretty pictures?

To her surprise, the woman laughed heartily. “I like the way you think! Good pictures can make or break a story, in my opinion.”

At that, she turned around and started to put the other books back onto the shelf, climbing onto the wheeled ladder and turning her back on Alaska. Before she could properly respond, the door to the library forcefully slammed open, hitting the wall with an almighty bang. She whipped around, heart racing from the momentary shock, and spotted Prince Ron entering the room in long strides, with a hopeless-looking Sharon following him.

“Mother!” Prince Ron announced.

“Queen Ellena?” Sharon asked.

“Shit.” Alaska murmured.

She scurried to Sharon’s side as they approached the ladder in which the Queen was stood, her skin blushing as the situation dawned on her. This was the actual queen of the kingdom, Prince Ron’s mother – head of the royal family! And she, Alaska, had just been chatting away with zero knowledge.

“My apologies!” Alaska stuttered, sweeping into a clumsy curtsey as Sharon did the same, but tidier. “I-I wasn’t aware it was you, Y-Your Hi-”

The Queen waved her away, laughing gently. “Nonsense, both of you. I have no need to be Queen when I’m inside the palace walls, just call me Ellena. And none of this curtseying business!”

Sharon smiled. “It’s lovely to see you, Ellena. I was wondering if I may borrow some of your books for my journey? I’ll make sure they’re returned.”

Two things struck Alaska; one of them was that Sharon spoke differently to others – be it royalty or not – than she did to Alaska, and the other was her phrasing. I’ll make sure they’re returned. Even Sharon was all too aware that her survival was looking bleak. She wasn’t going to kid around and pretend like everything was fine.

“Of course, my dear! You’re welcome here anytime you like.”

Sharon was quick in her selection, which Alaska was endlessly grateful for. She was still a little embarrassed that she hadn’t known who the Queen was, and the presence of Prince Ron was making her far too uncomfortable to want to stay any longer. Goodness only knew how Sharon had coped speaking with him alone for the amount of time that she had.

“Alaska, do you have any you want to look at?” Sharon carefully stowed three books into her bag, looking up at her with earnest eyes.

She shook her head, her throat closing up. “I…” Alaska practically whispered. “I can’t read.”

Luckily for Alaska, Sharon didn’t visibly react; if she had it would have only added to the inappropriate sense of shame that came over her as soon as she spoke. Who cared if she couldn’t read? Most of their kingdom couldn’t, save for a few who had access to books and education. There was no need to be embarrassed!

Only Alaska was no longer in the company of their citizens anymore. She was in a palace, where everybody could read and write perfectly and had endless stories stored in their minds from years of pages turned and pictures looked at. In this scenario, she was the odd one out.

Sharon nodded quietly, not drawing attention to Alaska as she took one final book, thicker than the rest, from the shelf and slotted it into her bag.

“We really should be off,” Sharon spoke louder than before, causing both Ron and the Queen to look at her. “Thank you ever so much for the hospitality.”

The Queen frowned. “Won’t you stay to eat?”

Biting her lip, Sharon shook her head and politely declined. Alaska was sure they were both thinking of the debacle that had taken place in the palace back at home, with Sharon’s coughing and sickness and the bad temper that had upset the delicate balance of the dinner table. Neither of them wanted a repeat of that to be witnessed.

Eventually the Queen accepted that they wouldn’t stay, and before they could even turn around, Prince Ron insisted he would walk them back through the kingdom, keeping them safe until they reached their carriage. Again, neither of them wanted it – but at the same time, it reduced Alaska’s worry that someone would attack them. The last thing Sharon needed was someone trying to overpower her, especially when it seemed that a single breath of wind could do the job.

At the edge of the kingdom, a five minute walk from where their carriage was waiting for them, Prince Ron stopped.

“Dearest Sharon, this is as far as I am permitted to take you – but do not look glum. One day I shall take you around the whole world. For now, however, I must bid you adieu.”

He took hold of one of her hands, stroking her pale skin. It was a wonder he didn’t notice how skeletal her fingers were, her vivid the veins were.

“Even in the shortest window of time, your presence has the most profound effect on the heart. Until next time.”

It seemed as though Alaska blinked and all of a sudden he was kissing her, tilting her face upwards with his hand to meet his superior height. Though she made no attempt to pull away, Sharon’s nose was wrinkled, one of her hands balled into a fist as she tried to endure it.

Alaska sharply turned away from the two, sucking in a deep breath as her eyesight grew blurry. No matter where she looked, she could see them. The floor, her hands, her feet, imprinted everywhere was that horrible image, the silhouette of his lips against hers and his hands holding her face. I hate this. I hate this I hate this I hate this.

She tried everything. She was upset because she hated Prince Ron, and he didn’t deserve to be kissing someone as wonderful as Sharon. No. She was upset because Sharon was her friend, and she knew Sharon didn’t want to be with him. No. She was upset because… because…

No.

Never.

There’s Prince Ron’s voice. “Take care.”

Sharon. “We will.”

Prince Ron. “Goodbye, Sharon.”

Then footsteps. Alaska turned to find Prince Ron retreating, his back to them, slowly disappearing out of sight. As soon as he was gone, no longer in earshot or visible to either of them, Sharon doubled over and started to cough.

The action was so violent-sounding that Alaska was genuinely afraid she would fall over from the force of it. It was obscenely loud, racking her entire body as she shuddered and hacked. Amongst the horrid sound was a faint rattle, that could only be described as the death rattle of someone who was toeing the line between living and dying. Sharon had gone so long without coughing, presumably suppressing it so she didn’t cause alarm in the palace, and this seemed to be the result. Either that, or – as much as Alaska’s heart ached at the thought – she was simply getting worse.

By the time the fit was over, the grass and worn path were splattered with thick, dark globs of blood, as was Sharon’s chin. With the sleeve of her robe she quickly removed it, her chest heaving as she panted to catch her breath. Each inhalation was wheezy and shallow.

“C-Carriage.” She managed, clutching Alaska’s hand as tightly as she could and stumbling forwards. Her grip was loose – far too loose. Alaska held tight to compensate.

“A-At l-l-least-” Sharon tried again, every word seeming to drain her. “N-No-No-Not f-far…”

With that, her legs gave out beneath her, and she tumbled to the floor. Alaska’s heart leapt as the princess fell, hitting the ground hard and making no attempt to hold her arms out to cushion her fall. She simply took the impact with her body, not even trying to stand up once she’d fallen down. She was far too weak to do that.

“Sharon!” Alaska cried out, lifting the princess into her arms. It was terrifying how light she was, but thankfully it meant that Alaska could carry her, and quickly. She made her way back to the carriage as fast as she possibly could, gently setting her down and promising she’d be back soon.

“Onward,” She breathed to the driver. “Go!”

They took off like a shot; Alaska barely had time to clamber inside before the horses were whinnying and the carriage began to hurtle off the track they had been parked on and away from the village. Inside, Sharon was still in the exact position that Alaska had set her down in, unchanged.

She tried to lift her hand, succeeding in moving it an inch or two before it fell again. “W-Water… b-b-better…”

Alaska scrambled for the water, pouring some out of one of the bottles they had into a small cup. Clearly Sharon wasn’t strong enough to hold it, so she shifted forwards and held it to Sharon’s lips, tilting it slowly to allow her to have little sips at a time. Her breathing began to slow, her chest settling as she relaxed back into the carriage.

“Th-Thank you.” She spoke up, this time clearer and less shaky. “C-Can I?”

Despite the vicious trembling of her hands, Sharon succeeded in drinking a little more water, only spilling a few drops down her front in the process. It was the least of her worries, in any case. Her strength was beginning to return, bit by bit.

“C-Can you tell the driver to st-stop when it’s night? I’d r-rather sleep like th-that.”

Alaska nodded, her heart sinking as she gazed into Sharon’s tired eyes. “Of course,” She promised, beginning to lean out of the carriage once again. “Anything for you.”

-0-

Things were quiet for a good few hours after the carriage continued away from the kingdom. It was still late morning when they had set off, and the comfortable silence allowed Sharon to regenerate her strength and energy without feeling too under pressure to prove that she was okay. In the meantime, Alaska alternated between looking out of the window and checking up on Sharon. Outside, the view had finally started to change, and the endless stream of trees and green grass and hedges finally started to make way for ocean views and sand as they approached the coastline. Having never been to the beach, Alaska was sincerely fascinated by it all. Opposite her, Sharon didn’t change all too much. She sat up a little straighter after a few hours, and her eyes started to look a little brighter, and she began to look more alive and awake than she had before, but that was mostly it.

It was nearing dusk when the silence between the two was breached; the carriage had just stopped, and Alaska had been gazing out of the window for far too long, urging Sharon to look too. It was as if the world around them was rearranging itself, transitioning from blue to gold, rose, violet, thousands of colours streaking across the sky. Far off to the west, the sun was sinking lower and lower into the horizon.

The two got out of the carriage, desperate to stretch their legs after so long of sitting down. Alaska wisely grabbed one of the blankets from the bench she was sitting on, carrying it with her and setting it down on the sand so her and Sharon could sit. There wasn’t much space on the blanket, so they had to sit close in order to be free of the invasive sand. Sharon didn’t seem to mind, and Alaska’s heart was pounding.

“I used to do this a lot. Just staring at the sunset from my bedroom window. I had this amazing view of the entire kingdom and a little further beyond.” Sharon told her. Her voice was tinged with what sounded like bittersweet memories.

Alaska bit her lip. “Ever been to the beach?”

Sharon nodded. “Yeah. Some of my dad’s business things were more vacations than they were business. He’d only really be in meetings for an hour a day, and then we could go out and do whatever we wanted. I used to build sandcastles with Adore and help her dip her toes into the sea.”

She sighed. “When I got sick, it ruined everything for everyone. My dad went to business alone. We weren’t allowed on vacation at all. Not even my mom and my sisters without me. I think Laila resents me for that.”

“That’s not fair.” Alaska frowned. “You couldn’t help getting sick.”

Sharon snorted mirthlessly. “I guess that’s true. Although, being at the beach after so many years away feels like I’m ticking off some kind of bucket list.”

For a moment, Alaska wondered briefly about her own bucket list. Dying hadn’t really crossed her mind before, save for some of the less-plentiful harvests that impacted her grumbling tummy come wintertime. Death just seemed far away, like an inevitable but not so imposing raincloud of a distant storm. It was as probable as birth but it didn’t really mean anything to Alaska. The only real significance it held was that her parents had passed, and one day she would cross over and be with them. It was comforting, at least, to know they were there.

Sharon didn’t have anyone waiting for her. Alaska’s heart broke as she thought about how it must feel, to be young and already facing Death’s cruel penance. She was essentially staring her fate in the face knowing she was walking into it blind and alone.

“Lasky.” Sharon said suddenly, with urgency. “Come in the sea with me.”

Alaska did a double take. “Huh? Why?”

“Think about it!” Sharon replied, almost gleefully. “This is it, for me. This journey is live or die. If I live, I want good memories. If I die, I want to go out knowing I had some fun. This is the bucket list trip, the end of life checklist. Please?”

Slowly climbing to her feet, Alaska grinned. “Last one to the sea is a rotten egg.”

They instantly took off down the sand, Alaska reaching the waves far before Sharon did. Even so, Sharon was running, and Alaska’s heart felt as though it was swelling up just watching her. She’d discarded her hooded robe, and was running with her skirt clutched in her hands to allow for easier movement. As soon as she caught up, she grabbed Alaska’s hand without a second thought and willed her to run further into the freezing sea.

“STOP!” Alaska giggled, screeching as the cold water lapped about her ankles. Sharon did the same, performing a strange jumpy dance as she squealed and ended up splashing more than she spared. “LET’S JUMP OVER THE WAVES!”

The wind started to pick up, but it wasn’t like it mattered. Both girls were cold already, the water now up to the tops of their shins and still icy.

Hours could have passed in which they were simply fooling around. They jumped over waves, until a piece of seaweed wrapped itself around Sharon’s foot and caused her to scream and jump directly into Alaska’s arms, which was succeeded by a laughing fit which caused Alaska to drop her directly into an oncoming wave, and in turn caused her to laugh so much that she, too, was suddenly soaked in sea water. They splashed one another, flinging great big handfuls of icy spray in the others direction and shrieking madly at the cold. Somehow time passed without their notice, with the silly games and endless enjoyment masking the change from the warm colours of the evening to the cool, dark purples and indigos of the night. By the time they stopped, their hair was ragged and drenched, their clothes were soaked, and both girls were shivering with chattering teeth.

They had ended up facing each other, the seawater just above their knees, positively shaking in the biting wind. Alaska noted a tear in Sharon’s eye, though whether it was from laughter, cold or sadness, she didn’t know.

“ALASKA!” She shouted over the wind, more tears gathering in her eyes. Gosh, those eyes. Nothing looked prettier in the moonlight than they did.

“YES?” Alaska shouted back, taking both of Sharon’s numb hands in her own.

“I DON’T WANT TO DIE!” She yelled. Though her voice was hard to distinguish, it sounded heartbroken. “I DON’T WANT TO DIE! I DON’T WANT TO DIE!”

Alaska teared up instantly, and surged forward to tightly embrace Sharon. Both of them were trembling violently, but Alaska clutched her tight to her chest as though she were a lifeline.

“I don’t want to die!” She sobbed brokenly into Alaska’s chest. “I don’t, I don’t, I don’t! I never have!”

Despite her best efforts, Alaska found herself crying too. She cradled Sharon’s head, stroking her hair, the sensation of the sea forgotten.

“I don’t want you to go either. Please, please, please don’t go. You can’t go yet. You can’t leave me. I…”

Sharon lifted her tear-stained face to look up at Alaska.

“I love you.”

The sky was black. The sea was cold. The moon was bright. The poor girl was living. The princess was dying. And the two lovers, entwined and drenched and crying as though the world was ending, kissed on the beach.

#purecamp #in sickness and in health #shalaska #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #rpdr fanfiction #submission #lesbian au #royalty au

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tamikkogivesbrain · 5 years

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Obsessed or nah?

Mental illness or nah?

Weird Twilight Zone Episode or nah?

Restraining order or nah?

This whole story makes me sad. I honestly wish people lived to love themselves more. Being inspired by someone is why we are all put on this planet. Envy, competition, weak mindsets and low vibrational intentions are things We as a Collective need to move out of. If someone is offended by you copying them, stop copying them. Do not move into someone else’s life out of spite. Create your own. Grow to love Yourself.

Introspective by: TAMIKKO BEASTY

What is Divine Masculine and Feminine?

In the same way, the feminine is waking up to her divine qualities and offering these gifts to the world, so the masculine is awakening to a new (actually old) way of being with the feminine. ... The awakening masculine supports the feminine aspect in visionary women and men, so they can bring their gifts into the world.

What is Divine Feminine?

Since the Divine Feminine is a concept grounded in spirituality, definitions can vary depending on who you ask. ... In other words, the Divine Feminine represents the connection to the part of your consciousness responsible for nurture, intuition, and empathy, regardless of your gender.

What is divine energy?

The most important part of the human body is the latent divine energy which lies between our skins to inner conscience, the potential energy or Shakti. ... In yogic parlance the soul is called 'purusha shakti' and energy of nature is called 'prakriti shakti'or kundalini energy.

I wrote a story months back about a person impersonating my essence for many years. I wrote it from a generic 3D perspective. Mostly because I did not want to dig deep. (This whole blog is filled with sci-fi episodes of The Twilight Zone.) I have been in review of True Self lately. The end cap to a very lonnnng journey inward, and away from secular conditioning. As I gear my mind to mentally go back to the superficial world of product and presentation... a path led me here. More homework.

I had this great initial strive for a career in pop culture dance for my whole entire existence. It led to many amazing things and wonderful, out of this world experiences. But the one thing that was always missing... True Love. I have had encounters I called love, mislabeled partners twin flames when they weren’t... only to find my heart forever lacking. There is a person I have always known to be my Twin. My real twin. I met him long ago and labeled him my best friend, a “brother”, my family, and ran. I saw him and he was familiar. A blaze in my eye that was too hard to hold on to. Broken from my own past and hurts I couldn’t handle experiencing love or real committed connection. We eventually collided years later. Volcanic. But life changing. I ran again. In between these things there was always a person looming in the background. Feeding on his weakness and vulnerability.

I’m trying to find places to resolve what I feel and step into 8D reasoning.

We had Union. The Union was beyond and close. Implosive again. All while this 3rd Party person still stalked and emulated, competed from afar. She felt slighted. That something was taken away from her... him.

I believe in love.

I believe in blinding, heart yielding, gut wrenching love. I believe if you love someone and you know in your heart they belong to another... release them. I did this twice. She captured him twice. From the outside it looked believable. Like he did belong to her. Even tho I could see... his heart was inside of me. I wanted him to live his highest self possible. She convinced him to marry, it was based in false pretenses, manipulation, abuse, coherion. They imploded. Divorce. Bad feelings.

He called me.

After a century of distance and walking through the trenches of hell without each other.

I came.

I put my soul into healing my friend. Twin Flame Unions are not perfect. It’s volatile. It’s scary. It’s co-dependence, sometimes dysfunctional. Come together to fall apart... all while your heart cracks on the inside. I set my twin free again. Against the internal part of my being. So he can find a freedom to choose his own destiny. Be really happy and manifest His Truth.

So I went on another journey of Self just recently. Information came flooding my way like The Universe wanted me to know... in heart break you are not alone.

Twin Flame Energy, The Divine Feminine (DF), The Masculie Energy (DM), and The Karmic.

Sometimes You can be a Karmic and mess up someone else’s relationship by cheating with their spouse. When you work through your 3D carnal exertions and choices... you ascend. You move your energy out of lower base thinking and doing. You walk into your Power and become Divine. The Divine Feminine Awakens and this sends a Universal Signal to her Divine Masculine to unite. Unite and form a Union so Their Universal duty/ soul contract begins to manifest. This is to guide The Spiritual Collective forward. People in low base thinking can see or sense this. People who live in “black” energy use negativity and negative actions to hold other people back so Twin Flames have harder times meeting or coupling. Sometimes this is out of conscious jealousy, envy, and lack. It can also be out of greed and arrogance. Even revenge on one or both parties. When you come across 2 partners who are Destined as Twin Flames... the energy is so obvious people are constantly compelled to point out your similarities. In looks, Energy, and Vibe. An irresistible love for One Another that the whole world recognizes and can see.

It’s meant to be.

In New York I was super busy all of the time. Had no time to look over my shoulder and see who was chasing me. He saw me. She saw him seeing me... and has been chasing me ever since. She was not kind to my twin. Trying to force my likeness over him. Almost as if to trick... maybe compete. To fool or convince him him she is The Divine Feminine. I never stopped to think how deep it all got until this last year. How much damage was done to my friend.

Hurt people hurt people. I am not perfect. I hurt people too. Unraveling different parts of myself everyday. The difference is the True Divine Feminine can’t fake her existence. She does not force or manipulate. When she fights, she is fighting for what The Divine Masculine actually wants for himself... deep in his own soul... even if it’s breaking her own bond with him. A Karmic Energy fakes and manipulates. Usually for a selfish purpose and plays the Soulmate game to entrap a person.

The dilemma.... tell the truth or let my heart sit back and pretend it’s ok for people to do things like this. In my research there are people who go in depth about Spiritual things and The War Fare that takes place. But never actually faces to the movies. I’m posting because is the obsession she has with me or is it over him? Or maybe the need for fake fame and competition coming from some broken place serves like a flame for her.

This knowledge of Twin Flame Journies inspired me to write. Our Union inspired friends to marry and some to pursue higher love. So I wondered what was always coming in between us. Karmic ties can also be friends or family members who have selfish motives to keep True Loves apart. Sometimes people are just sad and do dark things. And sometimes people just need to heal from their own paths. We collide into poachers looking for planets to rob and fill. We are planets. If we fail to fill ourselves with love, it makes it easier for parasitic energy to take over. Vampire based people are attracted to Epathic Energy. People ascending to higher levels are usually Empaths with beautiful, giving energy. Bottom feeders recognize this... and feed.

The goal is to not become a bottom feeder yourself from encountering so many dark connections and fight your way through Yourself back to Your Higher Existence.

When on This Journey The Twin Flame appears. Bumping back into one another until Union finally takes hold or peaceful resolvement to let go is established between The Divine Masculine and The Divine Feminine.

I desire for my True Twin to be his happiest Self. With me or away from Me... love is undefineable and no moments are regretted.

There is a massive Spiritual Shift in The Collective Human Consciousness and on The Planet. Recognize Heart Power and True Intentions. The time for hiding or wearing false masks is over. All truth will prevail.

It’s time for true love and life purpose. The rest is bullshit.

Muse your heart. Listen to your gut. If it feels wrong... it’s probably fake. Or in my case, an imposter.

If you recognize yourself as a Karmic, look inward. Do the work to heal yourself and break unnatural bonds you may be keeping over people who do not belong to you. If you steal from The Universe, you will be required to pay in karmic lessons that keep you bound to 3D black hole existing.

If you are a Twin Flame on path to Enlightenment. Be honest. Love Yourself. Heal Yourself. Pray. Do good works. Spread pure love. Repeat.

Fight For Love.

Click Link Below for more disturbing info👇🏼:

UPDATE: She currently is stealing Spiritual Information I have written about here and is starting a newsletter of her own... As she reports my IG Page 7-8 times a day to have this tumblr link dismantled... only to use bits of my information in daily newsletter posts to portray herself as “Enlightened”, “Woke AF”, & Gives “Self- Awareness” tips. 👀

How, Sway?!

She now calls herself a “Light Worker”.

These things are not to be played with... or taken lightly. Pray for Real People to see around this Fake Lost One.

This Is The Spiritual Battle. Being played out in various ways, on very many stages and platforms. True Divine Energy: Continue to be what is Born and Genuine INSIDE of You. That cannot be forged... only mocked by Jealous Entities like the person who is obsessed with trying to be Me. Keep fighting for Truth. If You are a true born healer, or carry light to help change The World, Uphold True Meaning in Your Existence and Purpose. No fake creation, test, or obstacles can change that or take that which is Divine in True Divine Beings...away from You.

To The Fake 1s: Beware. The Wicked Shall Perish... On DOPE.

The Future Come’ith.

#TwinFlameEnergy TheDivineMasculine TheDivineFeminine TheDivineUnion GOD LOVE TRUTH #Mentalillness HealYourself LetGoOfTryingToBeMe BeYou

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maidenofsophia · 7 years

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My Wheel of the Year

The following is my own personal religious calendar, a syncretism of the Eight Sabbats, the Gnostic liturgical calendar, Sophian Gnostic feasts and orthodox Christian festivals.

Advent (December 1st)

This marks the beginning of the liturgical year in my practice. After the dark month of November, where the Archons power feels like it might suppress the world, the Light begins to grow in the womb of Sophia. The rest of December is for excitement and preparations for the coming of the Divine Child.

Winter Solstice (December 21st)

Also known as Nativity of the Holy Daughter. She who proceeds the Son and is the first incarnation of the Light on Earth, both in the body of womankind and in the Holy Spirit that unites all souls on Earth as family. While the Mother still prepares to give birth to the Son, the Daughter dances in the pride of the Heavenly Father. Celebrations are held for the Princess of Peace.

Christmas (December 25th)

Also known as The Feast of Mother and Child. The Son is born to one day show us the path back to the fullness of God. Our Mother is honoured with both her Daughter and Son who together form the Christos, the anointed ones who are our saviours against the Archons influence. The Father’s radiance and love shines around them; uniting them as the four-in-one Almighty God. This is a time for being with those we love, our families, whether they are ones we are born into or find ourselves.

Baptism of the Lord (January 6th)

Also known as the Feast of John the Baptist, or Feast of Master and Student. Yeshua is baptised by St. John the Baptist and cleansed of his past sins by the grace of the Father. The rest of January is focused on starting the year anew, letting go of regrets of the past and looking to the future.

Imbolc (February 1st)

Or Our Lady’s Initiation. Just as the Son was tested, as was the Holy Daughter, who having shared in experiencing the sufferings of this world, cleanses Herself again in the name of the Blessed Mother. Images of the Holy Daughter or Maiden Goddess from all around the world are honoured this day. Candles are lit to symbolise the ever growing light of the Christos in the world, specifically in the form of the Sacred Feminine.

Shrove Tuesday (41 Days before Easter)

Or The Feast of Twin Flames. On the Tuesday before the beginning of Lent, where fasting and spiritual contemplation take place, a feast is held in honour of the Holy Daughter and Son of God who were tempered by the sufferings of this world and made strong in their wisdom and faith in God. The two have found each other and will guide us through the following month in the united Christos, the Holy Child, our Teacher and Priestess.

Ash Wednesday (40 Days before Easter)

The beginning of Lent. The Son cleanses the Daughter of Seven Demons, also described as Him helping Her to ascend above the Seven Hells, to raise Her to Her true glory. Through the following month we remember that, in this life, we are one with the dust that forms our bodies. But we also remember that we are not bound to the dust forever. We give up one attachment that causes us physical, mental or spiritual damage to learn to be free of the bonds of this existence.

Palm Sunday (Sunday Before Easter)

As Gnostic Christians we remember Lady Mary and Lord Yeshua entering the holy city, on the backs of noble donkeys, hailed by the disciples as the Queen and King of the new Kingdom of Heaven on Earth. The light of the Christos and the wisdom that has been shone through their teachings is strong. Darkness lies ahead but today is one of celebration and honour for the Lady and Lord.

Holy Monday (Monday before Easter)

Our Lady repays the Lord’s blessings in cleansing Her by anointing Him in sacred oils in preparation for the coming sacrifice. Reverence is paid to the Holy Daughter who anoints us all with the Spirit of God and who prepares and comforts us in the coming of our death, as well as all other trials in life. It is for this purpose that the Holy Spirit was called The Comforter.

Maundy Thursday/Good Friday (2 days before Easter)

I won’t go in too deep on these as they speak for themselves. Thursday we remember the Last Supper, when Our Lady and Lord sat together with the apostles, and performed the first communion. This is the last time the Son and Daughter are together before the Son’s crucifixion. On Good Friday, the Daughter suffers internally while the Son suffers the physical agony of this life. As Gnostics, we are not remembering an offering of blood in return for our own sins, but a spiritual sacrifice where the divine shares our pain so that there might be a bridge between us and God.

Black Saturday (Final Day before Easter)

The Son’s spirit journeys through Hell to collect the souls of those lost in darkness, continuing to endure further torment, while the Holy Daughter keeps a vigil on this Earth. Just as Mother Sophia held the candle of hope before the birth of the Holy Child, so Our Lady carries half the light while the Son is lost. Images of both are shrouded, as the Son remains in the darkness of the underworld, and the Daughter veils Herself in mourning for her twin. It is a day of mourning but also hope and anticipation.

Easter / Resurrection Sunday

Also called The Festival of Risen Light. The Son is risen and greeted by the Daughter who is the First Witness to the conquering of eternal life over mortal death. The Son is still moving between realms, having risen from the darkness, and beginning His journey back to the Mother-Father, but remains as much as He can on this earthly plane. After the trying month of Lent and the Holy Week, a great feast is held to welcome back the Light of the world as the Son and Daughter.

May Day (May 1st)

Also called Coronation of Our Lady. As the Son prepares to ascend fully to reunite with the Mother-Father, the Daughter pledges to remain on Earth, to further guide the lost children of God. The Son chooses Her to lead His disciples and become the foundation of the holy ecclesia. She is honoured as the May Queen, the Apostle to the Apostles, the Great Priestess and Lady of the Light.

Ascension Day (May 25th)

The Son leaves us, for now, in his current presence, but He will be reborn again. His teachings are written in the hearts of humanity and in each generation at an enlightened one comes, be they male or female, in order to remind us of the Father’s law - the Law of Love. Praise is given to Christ-the-Logos who rises to become King of Heaven while Our Lady remains as Queen of Earth. We look to The Son as a reminder of our own potential in defeating death and reuniting with the Mother-Father.

Summer Solstice (June 21st)

Feast of the Light Bearers. As Our Lady shines as Queen of Earth and the Son as King of Heaven, the promised Holy Spirit of both the divine masculine and feminine shines bright on the world. Reverence is paid to St. John the Baptist who cleansed baptised the Son and imparted the secret gnosis for Him to share. Bonfires are lit in memory of all the figures of Light that have come to our world; the teachers, messiahs, gurus, prophets and enlighteners who are all examples of the Christos shining in our world - not just in Yeshua and Magdalene. We also pay homage to our personal Light Bearers in our life, be they our parents or professors or whomever. Bonfires are lit in honour of They who are and continue to be the light of the world.

The Feast of Mary Magdalene (July 22nd)

The Gnostics Ascension of Our Lady. After living out her days on this earth and continuing to spread wisdom to whomever would receive, Our Lady lets go of her failing body and allows Her soul to be raised up into the Pleroma, where She takes up Her throne as Queen of Heaven. Yet, just as the Holy Word remains with us, so does the Spirit of Holy Wisdom. We remember the life of the Holy Daughter, of what she endured and learned and taught, of Her sacred mysteries and Her true power that the orthodox church attempted (and inevitably failed) to cover up. She is our Co-Redeemer, Co-Saviour and the embodiment of Sophia on earth.

Lammas (August 1st)

First day of Harvest and the beginning of the dimming of the light, but this remains a holy time, for it is a reminder that all earthly things fall away, to rise again. But the light of Christ is eternal and what we can hope to attain if we wish to fall away from this cycle. But for many of us, it will continue, so we tend to our crops and the creatures all around us. We remember the light of God lives within all things, that nothing is separate from Them, and we must care for our planet for the new life that will come next year.

Mabon (September 21st)

The Second Harvest Festival, or Day of Thanksgiving. Though the spirit of Our Lady and Lord have ascended, they have not left us alone, for their angels and luminaries and fae and other holy spirits remain with us as the nights draw in. We give thanks to God and ask that Their blessed servants help us prepare for the darkness to come. It is a festival of sharing the bounty we have helped to produce, as well as continuing to share the wisdom we have learned to those who are new to hearing it, making preparations for both the body and soul.

Allhallowtide (October 29th - November 1st)

This three day festival commemorates the end of the liturgical calendar. October 31st marks Samhain, as well as The Assumption of Sophia. With the Holy Child’s mission complete, and the divine soul having been risen out of the sufferings of hell, She is reunited in the Fullness. It is on this day that the veil between living souls and those that have passed into other realms or become one with God is most thin and we feel closest to Them. Though the world may seem darker, the inner light of creation shines brighter than ever, as we look to the day when all have found Gnosis and become one with the Divine once again. The following day marks All Saint’s Day or The Descent of Sophia. As the journey of Sophia and Her children is one that takes place outside of time, its events have happened, will happen, and are occurring at this moment. It is a continuous cycle, a spinning wheel of fate, all due to the will of God who seeks to know Thyself.

The month of November, beginning with All Soul’s Day until Avent, is a time for meditating on the strengths of Sophia, as She descended into the world of matter, seemingly under the control of arrogant and foolish false gods. As Lent is a time for purification and spiritual contemplation, November is a time for being active, for taking control of ones agency. The Archons attempted to subdue Sophia but She fought back against them with Her compassion and courage. She paves the way for the Holy Child that is still to come. It is a time for focusing on images of the Dark Mother, the Black Madonna, the Queen of Darkness and Light. She carries the souls of the world alone and so She is at her strongest and most fierce.

The Feast of Redemption (November 27th)

(This is a minor holiday I began personally honouring last year. I’m not American so I never celebrated Thanksgiving around this time - our closest festival to that would be earlier, on Mabon, during the Harvest Festival. But November is such a trying month it deserves a second holiday.)

Also known as the Day of the Holy Fallen. As Our Mother tries to protect us from the harmful forces of this world, Her power is witnessed by an authority - an Archon - one of the false gods who sought to control Sophia’s children. Witnessing Her majesty, he rejects his father and is cast out of the false kingdom. He seeks the Mother and swears loyalty to Her. He pledges to be a bringer of Her light to all the lost children, and for this She raises him back up in renewed splendor. His name may be Lucifer, Sabaoth, Abraxas, Lilith or Lower Sophia, or the name of any of us who have fallen from grace and sought forgiveness after recognising our sins. Sophia, our loving Mother, always forgives us when we truly seek to earn Her forgiveness. We are all capable of being redeemed; even the darkest of demons can become beacons of light. This is a day of repentance, earning forgiveness, as well as forgiving those who seek the same from us. For it is the Fallen Angel’s redemption that gives light to the Christos within Sophia’s womb.

#gnostic christianity #christopaganism #son of god #holy daughter #mary magdalene #yeshua the christ #god the mother #holy sophia #wheel of the year

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worldbestlawyers · 7 years

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New Post has been published on World Best Lawyers

New Post has been published on http://www.worldbestlawyers.com/pegasus-a-memoir-about-dream-image-work/

Pegasus - A Memoir About Dream Image Work

I first encountered Robert Bosnak’s dream work technique at the C. G. Jung Institute in Boston and was later invited into a private dream group that met around a woodstove in the upstairs of his barn in the suburbs of Boston. This group deeply explored the unconscious lives of the group members. Huddled in a small circle under blankets, we only knew one another by sharing our dreams. Here I learned more about archetypal symbolism. Universal symbols can contribute to a dream’s meaning, not always by translation but by seeing the dream on the mythic level. Joseph Campbell once said in an interview, myths are society’s dreams.

Throughout all of known history, archetypes are repeated, albeit in different forms. Archetypes are dynamic forces, identified for instance, as The Divine Child, The Wise Old Man or Woman, The Devouring Feminine, The Hero, The Underworld, Trickster, Shadow, among others.

When we can look at our lives mythically we are able to accept the more difficult passages as the continuum of inevitable change. The Dark Night of the Soul is equivalent to the Nigredo in alchemy, descent into the depths, and whether it is one of sorrow or trauma, this stage is a universal one for the hero or heroine of many a myth. When we see our particular pain as a rite of passage rather than a termination, we then have the courage to confront the situation with the dragon or witch (or job loss or lawyer), understanding and feeling which part of ourselves is resisting growth.

In Bosnak’s private group we learned to apply more pressure to the vessel by questioning the dreamer; we went into the discomfort of difficult images, watching psyche autonomously at work. One discovery was to see how the dream expanded under this “heat” and in the two hour sessions we spoke of personal stories as well. All the members were able to enter the twilight consciousness under the pressure of intensive questioning.

Sometimes there were silences when everyone had fallen into the image as if it were a black hole. Sometimes active imagination would cause new images to appear. Returning to earlier scenes after feeling emotional release, we found they had changed and often enough, the monster was quelled. Most of the detours a dreamer took turned out to be relevant, resonating in a new manner. This exploration each week felt like a sacred ceremony. Even when we’d sat for long duration with a grotesque image, a mass murderer, a river of maggots, an explosive planecrash, sexual molestation, bloody wars-there was a deep sense of mystical participation in a ritual and the group bonded tightly.

Sometimes synchronistic phenomena accompanied the work and we were eerily spooked. Once an airplane dream summoned low-flying jets overhead. A dream of insects produced a large horsefly in the room. Or noises would occur at significant moments- the hum of the furnace kicking on, a neighborhood siren or barking dog, a fit of coughing, a trio of sneezes occurring at precise moments when the pressure cooker contained related imagery.

There was the contagion of laughter and tears too, usually at the unimaginable pain that the human psyche represses. Dreams exaggerate but the range of orphans, rag dolls, deformed babies, tree stumps, vile reptiles, severed limbs, earthquakes and floods was not infrequently disconcerting, especially to the dreamer. Occasionally the group dreamt in synch, animal dreams, diving dreams- eroticism. I recall once when we journeyed into space and hung there like the floating fetus in the film “2001.” In the luxury of time spent on a single dream, every nuance was followed.

Often we left these meetings dazed, smiling abashedly at one another when we finally opened our eyes. There was also a cautious respect for distance and the absolute understanding the work was confidential. I felt privileged to be a part of this dream cult and stayed with this group for four years and next to my son, it became the most important thing in my life. We led each other through questions about atmosphere, time of day, colors, sounds and sensate images. One dream I experienced there demonstrates the transformative aspects of the work. Here is the dream:

I’m on a beach, the beach I walk daily near home. It ‘s evening and I’ve just left a party where there were a lot of macho men annoying as well as rejecting me. I come down to the beach in a sullen mood when a huge German shepherd comes out from a rock and begins barking at me as if he is preparing to attack. I am terrified. I grab a stick and thrust it between his teeth, beginning to wrestle with him for the stick. I think if I engage him in play, he might see me as a friend. I throw the stick for him to fetch and as he chases it, I lean back against a rock. It seems I can relax, for I have befriended the wolf. As I lean back, the rock begins to move and I realize I am pulled upward on the back of a horse, side-saddle. The horse is white and has wings; it spreads them and lifts me up with it as it ascends into the sky. I am awed and amazed as I awaken.

The group spent a long time getting me to feel the instincts of the dog. The value of “archetypal amplification” here is shown when we realize the dog is often a psychopomp guiding us through the underworld. Think of Anubis, the Egyptian god with the dog’s head. I was still in the lower realms with my negative masculine complex, wrestling with my demons so-to-speak, and yet all the freedom, the sky the horse flies into, to me was significant. Some of the group actually laughed at the bizarre fairy-tale ending to this dream-riding a Pegasus off into the stars!

When I amplified the archetypal meaning of Pegasus. I was surprised to learn that the winged horse was born from the blood that flowed at the beheading of the Medusa. If Medusa is the hag, the dark side of the feminine, the devouring bitch, she gives birth, nevertheless, to the beautiful Pegasus who represents-unbeknownst to me, my favorite art form, poetry!

Later I came across the essay “Horses With Wings” by the poet, Denise Levertov. Pegasus’s father is Poseidon, the god of the sea-“… undifferentiated energy… a source of life but also of terror” (Levertov 125).

Levertov also informs us that “… Medusa’s legends place her as a manifestation of the Earth Mother’s terrible and devouring aspects…” (126). Furthermore “The word Gorgon relates to gargle, gurgle, and gargoyle: Medusa is called “a shriek personified’ ” (127). Pegasus was born of the neck of the Medusa, an intermediary place between mental and physical capacities. In fact “… it was not until the moment that Medusa’s blood, spurting from her neck, touched earth that he became manifest” (129). Levertov associates the Medusa’s face with “… snakes and claws, wings and scales… gorgonic features” which “correspond to the quaking magma of emotion” (133).

Emotion is often the catalyst for the poet’s creation. Levertov speaks of Pegasus as intuitive, as a metaphor for the poem rather than the poet” (134). I saw that my dream demonstrated how the material of the underworld could be transformed into something expressive. “To say that the poem, as well as the poet, is animal means that it has its own flesh and blood and is not a rarefied and insubstantial thing” (134).

Pegasus, then is poetry, born of a “fusion of opposites.” The image emerges at the greatest point of tension. “Pegasus strikes his hoof on a stone and releases a fountain… the fountain of poetic inspiration henceforth sacred to the Muses” (129). He flies upward, like my imagination always reaching higher.

Levertov’s essay amplified my dream. The symbol of the Pegasus in its archetypal meaning was not something I consciously knew. Although I had studied mythology and knew of Pegasus in several myths, I didn’t know his significance and had not related to him as a symbol for this peculiar little hobby I had of writing poems. In alchemy the gold is transformed from the work that is done on the lead, the “Nigredo,” the dark night of the soul. I was not yet riding Pegasus in my life but I was mining the soul and facing the music, or dirge if-you-will, of my own darkness. That we can turn our demons into diamonds was not a new idea for me, yet I had not seen it happen in concrete terms like these images presented.

My dream showed how the unconscious is not time-bound. It would be a few years before I would publish a book that transformed loss into something outside of me with its own authority. Apparently, I was wrestling with the dog.

The dream group became my religion, where I felt touched by spiritual energy. It was where I witnessed conjunctions resonating like a hall of mirrors, where I received communion both with the material and with the group members. Over those years everything in my life deepened. I saw that dreams came from my daily world and their hooks into my feeling world grafted my nocturnal images.

Through the active imaginative work we make stories of our memories in ways that can’t be proven true. Memory itself is imaginative in its selection, unique to each individual. As I told a dream and the stories that ran beneath it, only my imagination could effect psychological changes. We do indeed create our reality and that reality is relative. From this I learned how wrong we are in judging one another. I saw how dreamwork could open a person to the possibility of altering a worldview. We can choose to end our victim hood by re-experiencing the feelings of the past and revision them in such a way as to make us capable of joy where sorrow had been.

References: Levertov, Denise. “Horses With Wings.” What Is A Poet? Ed. Hank Lazer. Tuscaloosa: The University of Alabama Press, 1987. 124-134.

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