Pale dawn eases through an upstairs window high above her, a filtered fragile wash of watered silken light, settling around her like the arms of some ethereal lover. She is unsure, perhaps a little excited, and rather uncertain, and walks today with all the serenity that she can summon, wondering who she will meet in this card of duality, this place of exchanges, this joining of male and female, this Alchemical Wedding. She waits before the door, wondering how she is to enter today; as a woman, as a child, as a queen, or as a crone. Does she go seeking knowledge, or serving homage, does she go for reassurance, does she go for others, or does she go for herself. The burgeoning multitude of thoughts threaten to break the spell apart, so she opens the door decisively, and with her very presence, pierces the veil that hangs on the threshold to The Lovers.
She walks out into a wide crowded street lined with large, substantial houses, and paved with ample blue-grey flagstones; the location seems to be at some point in Medieval Europe, perhaps Italy, and the sun is shining. There are crowds of people lining the streets, and for some reason, they are all cheering, although what at, is not made exactly clear, for she is invisible to them, a watcher on the threshold, an unseen surveyor in this happy event…. There appears to be some kind of homecoming, or perhaps it is actually a wedding that she has stumbled upon, although she can see no bride or groom, no happy couple, and she scans the people in the crowd for clues as to where she should go to next. At the far end of the street she eventually spots the person that she is looking for.
The figure stands there waiting, dressed in robes of lilac shadows with a capacious hood pulled slightly about the face; she cannot see clearly enough from this distance to ascertain the features, but as she draws closer, she finds that she is soon bathing in the serene gaze of a woman of indeterminate age, who seems to possess a savage kind of energy lying within her like a resting bear. The hooded woman looks down with calm reassurance, and as she stands beneath her meditative gaze, she feels all her worry and fear and the thoughts and troubles that plague her mind, slipping silently away. She relaxes into the strange woman’s gaze so much so that she feels like she is melting, everything around her sliding into nothingness, the sounds, the smells, the heat of the street, the touch of the ground beneath her feet, it all goes, even she goes eventually, slipping away into nothing.
A room of little feature has formed around her, and the lady of the lilac shadows has vanished, leaving her filled with silence and peace, feeling centred, ready to engage in whatever is presented to her. Four plain altars are arranged in the each of the room’s directions, the one closest to her, empty, and she finds that she is holding a sword, whilst arranged on the other alters she sees a Wand, a Cup and a Shield. She is standing within a temple, filled with a powerful sense of calm, or a calm sense of power, she can’t decide which, together with a strong awareness that she feels much better in this atmosphere than in the busy crowded uncertainty of the street. Feeling the energy in the room beginning to build, she hears a low hum beginning to emanate from the ground beneath her feet. Her eyes are drawn upwards, and she sees two eagles, one white and one red, locked in combat in the open skies above her; round and round, they tumble and fall, screeching and keening, as the power within the circle rises.
She works within her sacred space, following the ritual patterns that seem to come from some knowledge that has been imparted to her, and whilst the eagles continue to battle, she completes the final actions, and there comes a sudden silence, no screaming crescendo and she looks up in question. The two improbable birds have been replaced, by a single eagle, a natural, brown coloured bird that would not look out of place in any realm, and as she watches, it flies triumphantly across the darkening sky until it disappears out of sight. She stands at rest, her implements lying silent, the ground quiet beneath her, wondering what has happened here, what union has been achieved. The silken image of The Lovers shimmers into being once more, right beside her in the room, and after a last look around, she steps through into the watered silken light of The Hallway of Beginnings.
This is a chance to recognise that finding a balance of power, either in relationships, external situations, or within, is albeit actually one and the same thing. You discover that being on the same page as yourself, funny as it may sound, will actually help to resolve any difficulties in relationships with others, whilst assisting you in making the choices which you are currently facing.
VI The Lovers
The Zodiacal Trump of Gemini
The Children of the Voice-The Oracle of Mighty Gods.
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.