As I take my usual path up to the landing, I look at the wood that glows richly at my feet, slowly becoming aware as I go, that my vision has become magnified. I realize that my eyes have become those of a hawk, and that my vision permeates the molecules of air until I can see each line of grain that patterns the golden conker sheen of the polished elm stair. I am looking into a patterned past of summers long gone, of winters wild, and eons of time that I have no knowledge of. The black rings and knots, delicate memories of a heart and limbs to whom the sun and the stars are only a distant memory, bear me up, to walk in places that exist in worlds that I have never seen.
I stand before the door, and with a fleeting memory of the lost trees, I walk softly into a swirl of gentle chalk pastel colors that embrace me with a sigh of longing, I walk into the land of The 2 of Cups.
I am turned and turned, like a child in a game of blind mans buff, and after a short period where I try to resist the movement, I give myself up to the disorientation and the sense of loss of control, and I allow myself to flow with the movement like a leaf in a breeze, until at last I come to a place of stillness and calm, and rest myself upon the ground. I look around me at the sun filled landscape and try to ascertain to where I have arrived. The area around me is dotted with large geometric objects in the soft pastel colors of the card. Cubes of perfect petal pink, pyramids of clear blue and spheres of leaf green are scattered around me…. lending an air of timelessness and continuity. I find their geometric perfection calming, soothing, and somewhat eternal, suggesting the thought forms of God perhaps, or whoever calls the shots up above.
Looking further afield, I see that I am standing on the shores of what seems to be a vast lake…. the shallow waters so calm that it mirrors the arching blue sky with not a ripple under the dull golden shimmer of the afternoon sun. In the far distance, I see small figures moving around with what looks like buffalo, and I realize that they are farmers, tilling the soil on the very edges of this huge inland sea. As I search further into the distance around me, I come to an understanding that I am standing in a flood plain, that this is Egypt, and I am witnessing the inundation, the yearly flooding of the great river that brings life and fertility to this land of contradiction. The dry aridity of the bleached desert comes alive with the arrival of the flood water that sweeps all before it but that quenches the thirst of the hungry land like a lover home from war.
I stand gazing with indescribable emotion at this epic and beautiful vision in front of me, and start to sense that there is more to this picture than is meeting my eye. I realize that I need to look behind me, in the place at the back of my head, the place that I cannot see. I turn with fear gripping my throat, and try to breathe in through the tight feeling. It passes slightly as I take in the figure that stands before me… a figure of a goddess no less, not a moving talking being that could eat me, or kill me, but an image hanging in the clean desert air, a hologram of colored fractals of light that portrays the magnificent visage of the lion headed goddess Sekhmet, warrior goddess, drinker of blood, the avenging rage of God. She is the sister goddess to Hathor-Isis, and together they reign the duality of woman, in her rage and her love, whose star Sirius, rises at midsummer each year and foreshadows the annual flooding of the banks of the river Nile that brings fertility to all of Egypt.
I look out over the glass calm landscape lying still in the soft pink light…. sky and water, equal and entwined, perfect balance, requiring nothing, at one, at peace, relaxed and whole, pure unsullied equanimity.
I see the farmer again, plowing fields of serenity and silence with oxen resplendent with the horns of the moon. He tells me that when the water comes, nothing can stop it, it adheres to the laws of the universe, and all must yield. But from this, comes forth beauty, love blossoms and life returns to the barren earth, where before there was only dust.
I feel that it is time to go, although I could sit here in this living meditation for the rest of eternity, but I take with me an awareness of duality, a sense of pairing, the importance of balance, and an overwhelming reverence for the cleansing, nurturing, endless power of love.
The Two of Cups
Venus in Cancer
The Lord of Love
My name is Joanna Grant, I am an Astrologer, Tarot Reader and Writer, who lives on the beautiful Beara Peninsula in the South West of Ireland. I can often be found at home, deep in arcane research, or practicing some new form of divination whilst burning the dinner! My children probably wish that I was “normal” but may well remember my eccentricities fondly when they come to face the challenges of their own paths. My long knowledge of Astrology leads and informs my practice, in offering guidance, empowerment and healing, helping others to lead a more authentic and magical life. You can read more about me here.
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