Today is my Mars return at 24 Aries. I’d been expecting the usual – namely, irritation (I did have an eczema outbreak, but that was immediately after listening to five minutes I’ll never get back of DT’s vitriol, last night) and a sudden surge of willpower to get things done. Check! But I hadn’t expected feeling ‘lighter’, even goofily so.
Aries is of course one of the signs ruled by red planet (the other being Scorpio, traditionally), God of War/Death, so Mars is well-placed here, where he can express himself absolutely. Mars in Aries is direct, to the point, impatient, quick to rile and often fearless, sometimes stupidly so, head-butting in first. But what about when he begins to mellow with age?
Mars is a lone wolf, shunned by the other Greco-Roman gods (together with his sister, Eris/’discord’, currently conjunct at 25 Aries), except Venus, who finds him a turn-on, and Pluto, always glad to expand the underworld population. No stranger to pain, tragedy and suffering, Mars has waded through blood and acquired many a battle scar, thus is also a knowledgeable healer. Military men had to know how to stop the bleeding, remove an arrow, cauterize an amputation, prevent infection, use herbs, and possibly recite prayers for the dying. Bodies belong to Mars, and they are impermanent.
But Aries also happens to be the sign of the Fool – the wise Fool or ‘wise child.’ April Fool’s Day is in Aries season, after all, and this is the first sign of the zodiac, the infant. Aries never seem to grow up, yet they see with a clarity (clear vision = clairvoyance) that can be unsettling. Like all fire signs, they like attention and rarely hold a grudge. Perhaps Aries the warrior secretly knows laughter (+good bedside manner) is the best medicine, that humour, like Venus’ love, disarms, and the lone wolf sits beside the Fool on the hill to watch the Sun go down and howl at the Moon.
So this other side of Mars in Aries becomes apparent. Take a look at the opening image of the Sola Busca Fool/MATO card. I tend to avoid this deck precisely because it is so gory and feels heavily Martian/Saturnian. But how interesting that he has a crow (death) on his shoulder and walks through a barren wasteland, much like a battlefield. He wears red (Mars/blood) and plays a bagpipe, an instrument of war even before the Romans brought it to the British Isles. Hmm.
Mars is currently in the third/last decan of Aries. Depending on which decan system you use, the third is either ruled by Jupiter (most common), Venus or Gemini. Based on how it feels (trine my Sagi Moon), I have to go with the jovial one. A planet in late degrees exhibits an accumulative effect, similar to life experience, or lifetimes of experience. Perhaps this is the real meaning of the dog (or cat) who bites our Fool from behind, a past of aggression he is walking away from, un-attachment to old anger, pain and fear, as he heads into the great beyond. ~rb
“…a time comes, especially when the play of gods and heroes develops to gigantic proportions, when the spectator must feel the need for relief from the high concerns of great immortal themes; and a pathetic consciousness begins to form of little man confronted by these things – seeming by contrast comic in his limitations, yet peculiarly valiant in his one invincible power to take knocks; the Eternal Butt. His only weapon of offence to raise up against it all is the phallus, or a need to be undone and seduced when life becomes too much of an obstacle to step over with ease and dispassion.” ~ Richard Southern, The Seven Ages of Theatre, on the introduction of the comic interlude.
It’s been said that the Renaissance was a direct reverberation of the Black Plague, that out of this grim blackening (it always begins with blackening) a golden age was created, the rebirth of the light. In Italy, three famous poets (‘the big three’) are usually credited with having initiated Humanist thinking, providing an inspirational blueprint or script for the artistic movement that would reshape the consciousness of Europe; Petrarch (The Triumphs), Danté (The Divine Comedy) and Boccaccio (The Decameron).
Renaissance scholar Jacob Burckhardt says that Danté “was and remained the man who first thrust antiquity into the foreground of national culture. In the ‘Divine Comedy’ he treats the ancient and the Christian worlds, not indeed as of equal authority, but as parallel to one another” and that Petrarch “owed his fame among his contemporaries far rather to the fact that he was a kind of living representative of antiquity, that he imitated all styles of Latin poetry, endeavored by his voluminous historical and philosophical writings not to supplant but to make known the works of the ancients.”
Although Boccaccio too drew on and borrowed from classical/ancient themes and styles, The Decameron was set in more contemporary, plague times and is referred to as early satire. It has been nicknamed the ‘Human’ Comedy and from my understanding (I haven’t read it) gets pretty bawdy and anti-clerical, enough so that it was thrown upon the vanity bonfire.We might say that in Boccaccio’s case, the phallus was indeed raised as his weapon of offence against the high concerns of great immortal themes, and in defiance of death, following the plague.
Tarot dates back at least to the middle Renaissance and, like the great poets, pairs ancient, classical themes and traditions with Medieval ones – especially the idea of a parade of characters (or gods), such as those in the Totentanz or Canterbury Tales, etc. TheFool and his Unnamed double emblematize the Middle Ages (pre-Renaissance) while at the same time representing that which is eternal; the immortal breath of spirit and the infinite void.
“Men are born soft and supple; dead they are stiff and hard. Plants are born tender and pliant; dead, they are brittle and dry. Thus whoever is stiff and inflexible is a disciple of death. Whoever is soft and yielding is a disciple of life. The hard and stiff will be broken. The soft and supple will prevail.” ~ Lao Tzu
Although the animal going after his buttocks in the classic, Conver Fool card (eg. Camoin-Jodorowsky and two samples in mid-quartet, below) looks canine, in pre-Conver type decks, such as Jean Noblet (above), it is usually feline. Fools were often depicted with a cat familiar, licentious, nocturnal cats being associated with sinners and the Devil (hence they were persecuted along with witches in Medieval Europe, resulting in the spread of plagues due to rodent profusion).
However…like the proverbial cat who may look upon a king, a court fool/jester was the only person allowed to truly ‘look at’ the king. Like Fluffy, he’s acutely unimpressed by human status. It’s an old tradition. In ancient Rome, for instance, there was a person whose role was to stand behind the celebrated conqueror in his victory chariot, whispering, “Remember you are a man.” As well, ‘there are accounts of a funny man who performed impressions of the deceased – at their own funerals. The archimimus was allowed to offend even family members.’ [BBC]
The number of Fools is infinite.~ Ecclesiastes
Our Tarot Fool is more jongleur (travelling entertainer) than court jester, but he comes from the same, marginalized lineage. Though they were very skilled, jongleurs were often mistrusted, even condemned as ‘agents of the Devil’ because of their music, profane songs and dancing, which smacked of ancient, Pagan ritual. I say ‘smacked’ because this is usually what that long spoon was for – a slap stick. (Perhaps the comedic prop reminded the church of those ‘Pagan’ libations). An outsider who ‘stirred things up’ would likely need to make ninja use of their accoutrement on occasion. Yet he makes no effort to shoo the clawed attacker away.
So is the Fool a king? For a possible answer to this question, we might ponder another: Why does the tear in his pants reveal green skin?
The usual explanation is that the printers were simply ‘pulling a fig leaf’ by colouring his bared rump green, yet somehow Noblet got away with exposing not only his fleshy butt, but genitals too (apparently his way of flipping the bird to the tax man). And why make the Fool’s ‘outer skin’ (leggings) flesh coloured?
Another, small but noteworthy detail is that the monadic ball on his left shoulder is usually – though not always – the only one (of the two on his shoulders) coloured red. Green skin (more on his upper back?), dog and red shoulder ball might together suggest a connection to Osiris, conflated with his constellation, Orion.
Orion is actually mentioned in the Bible as ‘Kesil’, a Hebrew word meaning fool/dullard/stupid fellow. Maybe because Orion the Hunter boasted he could kill any animal (and was also a criminal who committed rape), or else the Israelites regarded the Egyptian lord the same way a cat regards a king.
This incredibly evocative mosaic (below) depicts the moment Orion is transformed into a god aka constellation. It is so loaded with symbolism and emotion, I’ll have to do a separate post about it, at some point.
The descent and rebirth (as vegetation) of Osiris was based on his constellation’s disappearance below and reappearance above the horizon. Next to it, in Canis Major – hence the dog – is Sirius, star of his loyal, loving Isis. The heliacal rising of Sirius initiated the new agricultural year, signifying the Nile would be rising, beginning a new cycle of life. The ‘red giant’ star in Orion’s eastern shoulder is Betelgeuse. [Note: the constellation was not seen as literally being Osiris, nor was Sirius Isis herself. They were called Sah and Sopdet, consecutively.]
The death/dismemberment of Osiris and his resurrection as new vegetation can also be understood as an alchemical process, which begins with ‘blackening.’ The word ‘alchemy’ comes via Khemet, aka Egypt, the black land (its fertile soil), but also the ‘black art’ they practiced; smelting and melting metals, which initially turned them black and for which charcoal was used. The term later became equated with ‘black magic’…not excluding witches, fools and their devilish familiars.
“You sleep that you may wake You die that you may live.”~ Pyramid Text
Osiris was syncretized with Greek Dionysus, so in TdM tradition, if our Fool evokes one, he’s going to evoke the other, via attributes. Dionysus, the antithesis of rational Apollo, was naturally more ‘Fool-like’ than the wise, good and beloved king Osiris. But they played similar roles as dying (dismembered) and resurrecting agricultural gods, celebrated in annual festivals. The triumph was originally a hymn of praise (thriambos), to Dionysus, sung in processions to his honour. He was also god of the Greek stage (hence the masks).
“The ancients conceived their divinities not as super-mundane beings of a different calibre from mankind, but as stooping sympathetically and not infrequently to don the mouse skin of humanity.” ~ Harold Bayley, The Secret Language of Symbolism
The word MAT likely comes from the Italian word ‘matto’ meaning crazy. But it can also refer to ‘dark’ (as in skin) or ‘dull’ (as in non-reflective or dim) or an actual mat, which, like the shoe, selflessly positions itself between us and the cold, dirty ground during pilgrimage or prayer. Similar to a mask?
There is also the oft mentioned Ma’at, Egyptian Goddess whose feather is weighed against hearts in the Judgement of the Dead. But let’s stay with crazy, dark and Christ-like, for the time being.
“Humour is reason gone mad.”~ Groucho Marx
The cult of Dionysus was, initially, a rebellion against the powerful, known for only admitting people of the lowest ranks, like slaves, women, outcasts and outlaws. The aim of the cult was to spiritually liberate those who were always looked down on and empower them to help themselves. The devotees did practice sacrifice, and, in their frenzied, ecstatic state of becoming one with their god, were rumoured to have torn apart and eaten the flesh of whatever living being was in their path. Just imagine if, during Beatlemania, there’d been no bobbies to protect the Fab Four from scores of devouring, teen maenads. Would they have stopped at ‘a lock of George’s hair’?
But the wild things cried, “Oh please don’t go – we’ll eat you up – we love you so!” ~ Where the Wild Things Are, Maurice Sendak, 1963
A clue to the Fool’s role in all of this sits square above his shoulders. Let me just say, I have tried to replicate his posture with a rod held over the opposite shoulder and face held upward and turned all the way to the side, while walking, and conclude he is either a skilled contortionist or is minus a skeleton. Upon closer examination, it appears he’s actually wearing a mask, which may have been moved to the side of his ‘real’ face.
Pompeii Tarotist Didier Dufond (you can find him on Facebook) points out that:
Le Mat’s headdress shows all the elements of the liknon: the wicker braces, the handles, the revealed phallus (with undoubtedly part of the veil falling) and even a fruit (probably a poppy) in the same place as on a Campana plaque, elements dismantled and reassembled to make this strange headdress, prefiguring cubism, and that there are numerous representations of Silenus carrying this mystical van on his head to celebrate an initiation, head bend over and look towards the sky. In his late representations, Silenus lost his Socratic snub nose and his equine references to become totally “human” (Coptic hanging of Dionysus or mosaic of Sarrin… and tarot…).
[Addendum: Profuse apologies for previously having written that he said the Fool’s head “resembles the Silenus mask in a liknon,” my faulty understanding/translation of his video presentation. Nobody likes to be misquoted!]
To me, the basket-hood also resembles a serpent head with open maw, sometimes accentuated with red ‘lips’, which is perhaps reminiscent of the Egyptian Mehen – a giant serpent who wraps itself around the Sun god Ra (Re) to protect him during his journey through the Underworld, during which he merges with Osiris, who becomes his ‘corpse’. (The shape beneath his shoulders even looks like a reverse sunset). It is also the name of an associated game with a coiled serpent board. The transit of the soul essentially begins at the snake’s tail and ends being ‘born’ through its mouth, a la Jonah and the Whale (the Christian version). This mystical rebirth is the real [a descendant confirmed it] meaning of the Visconti Biscione. ‘Renaissance’ means rebirth, after all (topic of future post).
Whether you care to invoke Osiris or not, or recognize a twinning with #13, it’s obvious that Le Mat is divided into 3 sections by his sticks; the bottom section shows his foot having made the initial step below (even the ground appears lowered), the middle one shows his thigh being wounded, or at least ‘unveiled.’ A mortal wound to the thigh was a typical prerequisite for heroes prior to descent (as was madness), but often what was meant by ‘thigh’ in myth was actually ‘genitals.’ (The Fisher King tale is a good example of this). The phallus held a prominent place in Dionysian ritual, to say the least (perhaps Noblet was conveying more than just an insult). Furthermore, remember Dionysus’ second birth was from the thigh of his father, Zeus, which is what made him a God and not simply a hero. At the top, the face or mask re-emerging from a winged maw (as described), and/or hinting at Dionysian objects. Oh yes, and his passport dangles beside his opened ham.
Fool’s ‘Passport’? Orphic gold tablets were sometimes leaf-shaped.
The Fool’s face resembles depictions of Hermes (hence the ‘wing’ in his hood) or Dionysus (Silenus was pug-nosed, but as Dufond states above, he later lost the “Socratic snub nose.”). Regardless, it’s clearly mask-shaped. In the Conver version (last two squares, above), you can even see the defining line of its side edge. His hood is also shaped to subtly define the mask border.
Silenus, teacher and ward of Dionysus was of course a satyr and the Silenus mask would have been worn by the leader of the chorus in Greek Satyr plays. This became the mask of Comedy (Thalia), the other side being Tragedy (Melpomene). Boccaccio was influenced by these bawdy plays which were once the highlight of the Dionysian festival. Yes, in spite of efforts to prove the contrary, satire is indeed related to satyr plays.
Like Silenus, the Fool archetype also has a dark side; that of the nihilist who believes that life is meaningless, rejecting all religious and moral principles and projecting their own inner emptiness onto the outer world. I am sure we’ve all met someone who fits this description (or been this person, in our existential twenties). Maybe this is why the Fool must embody all 21 arcana, before he can emerge at the other end crazy wise, and not just crazy. ~rb
Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms, Strong and content I travel the open road. The earth, that is sufficient, I do not want the constellations any nearer, I know they are very well where they are, I know they suffice for those who belong to them. (Still here I carry my old delicious burdens, I carry them, men and women, I carry them with me wherever I go, I swear it is impossible for me to get rid of them, I am fill’d with them, and I will fill them in return.)
Speaking of immortality…
Below is an Ice Age ivory carving nick-named ‘The Adorant’, thought to represent the constellation of Orion: “The total number of notches (88) not only coincides with the number of days in 3 lunations (88.5) but also approximately with the number of days when the star Betelgeuse (Orion) disappeared from view each year between its heliacal set (about 14 days before the spring equinox around 33,000 BC) and its heliacal rise (approximately 19 days before the summer solstice). Conversely, the nine-month period when Orion was visible in the sky approximately matched the duration of human pregnancy…”
~ Don’s Maps (fantastic site!)
Opening quote, ‘There is no danger of lowering God’ from Harold Bayley (quoting the Dean of Ely), The Lost Language of Symbolism, v. 1
Previously, we looked at the influence of hieroglyphica and emblemata in the Renaissance and its connection to Tarot de Marseille, how TdM’s ‘mytho-alchemical’ imagery is hieroglyphic in nature, playfully imbedded with visual hints of esoteric meaning hidden in plain sight. The cards relate to each other in a variety of ways, too, be it by numeric pattern or other similarities. (Perhaps why they naturally lend themselves to being ‘read’, a different narrative following every shuffle).
Do read my post on Horapollo and the Hieroglyphic Mysteries of TdM , if you haven’t, as an introduction. And as always, click images for details.
The Unnamed Card – Death
The Unnamed card (‘Death/La Mort’) is a prime example. Most Tarotists are aware of its relationship with The Fool/Le Mat, and how they strike the very same pose. By design alone, it is immediately apparent that the two figures are related or even one and the same; the first being unnumbered, the second, unnamed. Suddenly it all makes sense, right?
Original Tragicomedy act: the Greek Muses Melpomene (T) and Thalia (C)
Let’s take a closer look at the Unnamed card and its relationship to another major, The Moon, that we might find the visual clues needed for a better understanding of their mystery teachings.
The first consistent features we notice in the TdM skeleton, are its colour-emphasized spine and hip bones, and the skin pulled back around his skull, creating a crescent shape. Also, his spine appears to be made of grain. Typically, it matches the grain in the Emperor’s necklace (which his chicken-basilisk surely must covet!). The Emperor wears the golden seeds of his own, cyclic renewal. 1 + 3 = 4 and in number order, both cards are in the 1/4 place.
It’s obvious, too, that the Reaper’s face is a mirror image of the Moon. Makes sense, the Solar year has 13 moons, the last one being the ‘killing Moon.’ It’s ultimately why Sun worshippers suffer from triskaidekaphobia. Try as they might, the Greeks could not make 13 – or death – be rational and fit in. They felt the same way about 0, rejecting it outright (ie, no number?). The “inconstant Moon” has long been considered a kind of depository for souls coming and going between incarnations. It is not the light of wakefulness.
Of course Horapollo is talking about the djed bone of Osiris and we can see how the card must be a reference to the Osirian myth. While the djed bone has obvious phallic implications, it is actually symbolic of the grain god’s spine, by which his ‘kundalini energy’ or ‘life force’ climbs:
“The djed was an important part of the ceremony called “raising the djed“, which was a part of the celebrations of the Sed festival, the Egyptian jubilee celebration. The act of raising the djed has been explained as representing Osiris’s triumph over Seth. Ceremonies in Memphis are described where the pharaoh, with the help of the priests, raised a wooden djed column using ropes. The ceremony took place during the period when fields were sown and the year’s agricultural season would begin, corresponding to the month of Koiak, the fourth month of the Season of the Inundation. This ceremony was a part of one of the more popular holidays and celebrations of the time, a larger festival dedicated to Osiris conducted from the 13th to 30th day of the Koiak. Celebrated as it was at that time of the year when the soil and climate were most suitable for agriculture, the festival and its ceremonies can be seen as an appeal to Osiris, who was the God of vegetation, to favor the growth of the seeds sown, paralleling his own resurrection and renewal after his murder by Seth.”[wikipedia]
As for his phallus, remember that when Isis collected her dismembered beloved’s pieces to put them back together, she could not find this last bit, which had been eaten by a fish, so the resourceful Goddess had to make a new one, using magic. Might we even see a fishbone shape in the reaper’s frame, its head being the hips and tail being the crescent? Peut-être.
Dismemberment is the beginning of the transformation process. This card alludes to that which Osiris/Osiris-Dionysus presided over, the natural cycles of death and resurrection/rebirth. He was also called ‘god of the living’ and ‘lord of silence’ (ie, no name?). The black soil [of Kemet (‘kmt‘), the ‘black land’ from whence comes ‘alchemy’] pertains to fertility – new growth from rich putrefaction and loam. The Egyptians took their cues from nature, the great alchemist.
“In some rare instances, Osiris was depicted wearing a crown that included a rendering of the moon. This has led some researchers to surmise he was associated with the moon or the night.” [Ancient Egypt Online]
Thoth (Thoth-Hermes), Ibis-headed god of the Moon, who oversees the whole transmutation, might also be at hand…
The Moon – Rebirth
Now that we’re experts on the Lunar associations in the Unnamed card…what about the Moon card’s association with Death?
That the crayfish may literally represent the astrological sign of Cancer in TdM is, as the detective novels say, a ‘red herring’. But the association reminds us that in ancient Egypt, Cancer was a scarab – symbol of birth, life, death, resurrection and immortality.
Crabs and other sea creatures (and worms) become active, lay eggs, spawn or hatch with lunar cycles/tides, just as we came into the world through our mother’s watery womb at the end of 9 (1+8) lunations. Cancer also rules the breasts and Momma’s milk. Interestingly, in Arab astronomy, the four stars of Cancer were seen as a crib or manger, while in Chinese, as ghosts or spirits of the deceased. [Tip: Stick with stars, planets and constellations, rather than ‘signs’ if/when applying to TdM.]
The Great Mother’s milk is of course the Milky Way, by which the stalwart scarab navigates. Surely this did not escape the Egyptians, whose sky was the Goddess Nut, and readers familiar with Pythagorean and Orphic beliefs will see the significance. Note how the position of the crayfish mimics the upward facing scarab in Egyptian art. Scarab amulets carved with magical hieroglyphs were buried with the dead to protect the heart (seat of the mind) and ensure a safe transition. But the full Moon’s bright light can actually make the scarab’s journey longer and more difficult.
It’s tempting to assume that TdM printers were unfamiliar with the number of legs on a crayfish. But might there be a better explanation for its having only 6?
Greco-Romans and Gnostics, incorporating Egyptian culture/religion also used amuletic, carved scarabs and gems – which, as mentioned previously, were collected and studied during the Italian Renaissance:
“The leading families of Renaissance Italy, the Visconti and the Sforza dukes in Milan, the Estes and Gonzagas in Ferrara and Mantua, or the Medicis in Florence, were certainly willing to pay huge sums of money for authenticated ancient gems: Piero de’ Medici is reported to have remarked that an engraved gemstone was ‘worth more than gold itself.’ They became treasured family heirlooms.” [John Mack, The Art of Small Things]
Like hieroglyphica and coinage, this art form influenced emblemata and likely Tarot as well.
[addendum: the crayfish was used on Greek coins as a symbol for ‘city.’ Marseilles, a port city, was originally founded and colonized by the Greeks.]
The Moon card, being 18, falls into the ‘3’ position and contains the three dominions of the Goddess Hekate; sky, earth and sea.Hekate (pronounced Hekaté) was portrayed in antiquity as three figures around a central column; forming the Lunar Goddess triad with Selene and Diana, or Underworld Goddess triad with Demeter and Persephone (mysteries). Goddess of crossroads, the saffron-robed, torch-bearing Hekate was invoked to guide souls in the afterlife (some sources say Hermes was her consort) – note the crayfish’s torch-like claws.
But she had many other roles besides psychopomp, including Goddess of childbirth. Let’s not ignore the crayfish’s uterine shape, either.
The two fortresses in the distance are thought by some to be her temple towers, which is not unreasonable. As well, the Lunar Nodes – ecliptic points where paths of Sun and Moon cross (hence eclipses), connected to reincarnation – have an approximately 18.5 year cycle. Hmm. The visual clue, however, is that these structures are the only elements here, besides the Moon and ‘spirit-dew’, that are above the horizon (the dogs look as if sinking beneath it). There are few cards that make use of depth perspective, so this should alert our attention.
Addendum: Tarot expert Andrea Vitali points out something so hidden in plain sight, even I didn’t spot it (!), which is that the entire lunar cycle is depicted in the card; the two towers representing waxing and waning phases, the middle obviously being the full phase, and the water/crayfish being the dark Moon, when it is not visible. This adds to the idea of Hekate residing here, in the underworld/between world or unconscious realm, so to speak. As mentioned, the claws resemble the guiding torches she bears during this passage.
The horizon is where the stars rise and set, ie, are born and die. Circumpolar stars never sink beneath the horizon, thus represent the eternal. Two such stars were known to the Egyptians, therefor, as the Indestructibles; Kochab, in Ursa Minor and Mizar, in Ursa Major, which flanked the Pole Star (then Thuban, constellation of Draco). Pharaohs’ pyramids were built in exact alignment with these stars so they could be directly ‘beamed up, Scotty.’
For those without custom-built pyramids, the in-between state might be less streamlined and more perilous. The Moon here appears to occult the Northernmost star, just as she obscures the Milky Way for our scarab. A wandering soul without a visible sky map might find themselves reborn down here, rather than as a god in eternity. I say we invoke the crayfish.
And look, it’s those 4 stars! A bit of a stretch, perhaps…but how curious that the tip of the right dog’s tail in the Conver Moon card is clipped by the border. Accidental or intended clue?
The little croc-headed beastie pasted in the lower right is Ammit, the composite Goddess (I think also part leopard and hippo) who gobbles scale-tipping hearts. Actually, she is more like a composter of the heart-mind:
“Two ways are offered to our soul after death: either a final liberation or a return into incarnation in order to continue the experience of becoming conscious. Many are the texts alluding to reincarnation, either overtly or implicitly through such locutions as ‘renewal of life’ or ‘repetition of births’. The Judgment of the Dead takes place in the ‘Hall of the Double Maât’. This judgment is made in the presence of the dead person’s consciousness, Maât, while the other Maât, cosmic consciousness, presides at the weighing of his heart. Placed on one of the pans of the scale, and weighed against the feather of Maât, the heart expresses the feelings and passions which, if too heavy, risk drawing the soul back again towards earth.” [Lucie Lamie, Egyptian MysteriesNew Light on Ancient Knowledge]
Thus we return to the first lesson, that of the Fool (Le Mat, as if that wasn’t obvious enough) and the Unnamed being as one. An important, first lesson to get us through life, death and all the in-betweens. ~rb