Wakey Wakey!

Descartes denied that animals had reason or intelligence. He argued that animals did not lack sensations or perceptions, but these could be explained mechanistically. Whereas humans had a soul, or mind, and were able to feel pain and anxiety, animals by virtue of not having a soul could not feel pain or anxiety. If animals showed signs of distress then this was to protect the body from damage, but the innate state needed for them to suffer was absent. Although Descartes’ views were not universally accepted they became prominent in Europe and North America, allowing humans to treat animals with impunity. The view that animals were quite separate from humanity and merely machines allowed for the maltreatment of animals, and was sanctioned in law and societal norms. [Wikipedia]

Such cold, clinical mindset (which ignores the fact that we are animals and we feel) still pervades today, because progress depends on it, not because there is any truth to it.


Uranus was discovered in the 18th c, and along with the many scientific breakthroughs and discoveries, the shadow side was this overly-clinical, detached way of relating to other living ‘things’. Nature was no longer sacred, only the human soul was. Everything else was formula, which could be measured, dissected, categorized. Astrology was kicked of of astronomy, alchemy out of chemistry, and myth would become synonymous with ‘lie’. Doctors took over from midwives, magic became a sideshow act, as did people with physical deformities.
It’s no wonder there was a huge, spiritualist movement at the end of the 19th century. Perhaps this was indicative of another side of Uranus coming into play – the free thinker, telepath, prophet or astrologer who seeks to unify everything and who can ‘see the world in a grain of sand.’ The fin-de-ciecle of the 19th c also gave us Frankenstein and Dracula, metaphors for mad science/creation envy and inherent, human cannibalism (according to Guillermo del Toro).

Watch this excellent lecture series from UCLA on Science, Magic and Religion

The overwhelmingly positive response to the Queen’s simple and predictable address today, as Black Moon Lilith conjuncts the Sun, shows that many people are starved for the slightest bit of the sacred in their lives. Popular religion is often too abstracted, no longer bearing any resemblance to the natural cycles and phenomena it was originally inspired by.

I’m reminded of when Diana died in a car crash. People were weeping in part for the princess, but more deeply, I think, for the Goddess. Lilith’s destructiveness stems from the lunar Goddess’ rejection and the stripping of her ‘corona’ – the severing of her head/mental power source. This is more obvious in the myth of Medusa, whose head writhes with primordial serpent wisdom.

Looking at this corona virus (even the name) as a symbolic phenomenon, it is a symptom of our dislocation from the sacred, within and without. The lungs are where grief manifests, around the heart (Aquarius/Leo). Viruses are now thought to play role in our evolution, in changing our DNA. So this is also part of our birthing process.
Restoration of the sacred is something we can all take part in. We simply need to listen, become humble in the presence of nature, life, death and learn to live with reverence again – easy! – we are all indigenous to planet earth and this infinite universe.
The number 20 illustrates an ear and open orifice. Yes it is the Judgement calling card, but it is also through the ear (sound, vibration, frequency) that the holy spirit – the shape-making essence – is conceived.

Medical Definition of conception 1a : the process of becoming pregnant involving fertilization or implantation or both. b : embryo, fetus. 2a : the capacity, function, or process of forming or understanding ideas or abstractions or their symbols. b : a general idea. [Merriam Webster]

Except quotations, all written material and all photos and artwork herein are COPYRIGHT ©Roxanna Bikadoroff and may not be reproduced without permission.

Numerology Briefing

Someone was asking me about numerology, today, so here’s a very brief explanation on how it works.

First,  and most importantly, what is your life path number? What are you  here to do/learn in this lifetime?

Let’s say you were born today:

Feb 24 2019

We reduce each part to a single number, like so:

Feb = 2
24 = (2+4) = 6
2019 = (2+0+1+9) =12 =(1+2) = 3

Then add these sums together:
2 + 6 + 3 = 11

Conver Tarot de Marseille ca 1760

Normally, if the final sum is two digits, you would again add them together (1+1 = 2), but with 11, 22 and 33 these are ‘master numbers’ so they are left as is. But you would still take into account the number they reduce to (2), because it is an underlying influence, just a lower vibration. Especially since some people are not yet able to live according to their master number and are working up to it.

Also we take into account the birth DAY number (6/Lover), which influences the life path.
Next, you could look up your life path number online and see what it means, or you could turn to your trusty Tarot deck for clues. 11, the ‘mute’ number of paradox and therefore truth, is the Strength card. Reduced to 2, it’s the High Priestess. 11 is the master spiritual number, representing two pillars, a portal to the ‘spiritual realm’.
People with 11 life paths are therefor revealers of one kind or another.

Francois Héri 1718 TdM

22 on the other hand is the master of the material world.
22 reduces to 4, The Emperor, who is like a fortress. In Tarot, 22 is the Fool when he turns up at the other end, because both 0 and 22 are ‘God’, the emptiness (some would say the unconscious) as well as the divine architect. People with 22 life paths are usually architects of one kind or another, good at giving form to their vision.

33 is the number of perfection – best of both worlds. (It’s why Freemasons have 33 degrees).

Jean Dodal TdM ca 1650

There are many factors in numerology, but the next most important is your name number, which is what you are expressing. So  having given each letter it’s number value, add them one by one for each name, then add together the sums of these, same as we did for the date:

Jane Erre
(Jane) 1 + 1 + 5 + 5 = 12 = (1+2) = 3
(Erre)  5 + 9 + 9 +5  = 28 = (2+8) = 10 = (1+0) = 1

3 + 1 = 4
Jane’s expression is 4, The Emperor.

[Note that after 9th letter ‘i’, we have to start reducing them to a single digit, except for ‘k’ (11) and ‘v’ (22).] Often people will change their name or some letters in their name to get a number that resonates better with who they are, for example changing Michael to Michel can make a big difference.

Pierre Madenié TdM ca 1709

Now, to find your personal ‘power’ number, add your life path number to your name number.

Mine is 8 + 3 = 11. 11 is also my DAY number, which influences my 8 life path,
‘walking the spiritual path with practical feet’.

Numerology is helpful in understanding Tarot. The images are illustrations of their number’s vibration, and number mysticism that goes back to Pythagoras. The zodiacal chart is also based on mathematical harmonics, which is why it works. Used together they can provide a more complete picture.

All written content ©Roxanna Bikadoroff. Please ask permission if you would like to post somewhere and provide a credit/link. Thanks.

Zero in the Tarot by M J Stone

A little retrospective, now that we are officially in the Age of Aquarius. This piece was originally published in Parabola, Fall 2001 issue. It illustrates the Fool’s 2000 year journey through the Piscean Age of western civilization, via Tarot imagery. (Appreciation to the author for providing me with an English version and for giving me permission to post). Enjoy!

. . . . . .

ZERO IN THE TAROT
Whirling through the Major Arcana
by MJ Stone

Here I go again, spinning round and round, eyes closed, a quantum leap just waiting to happen. Flirting on the brink, whirling like a dervish, I am the primordial force, the Nijinsky of the cosmos. To most I am a fool, but to friends I am fondly nicknamed, a zero. Descending, inexperienced into the world, I am air, the breath of life, pure oxygen.

Some call me an eccentric and a know-it-all. But like the Latin, Follis, meaning a bag of wind, I am the conscious impulse that breathes life into the Tarot and my 21 Arcana companions. Beyond comprehension, I am a trickster, a sly fox and a vigilante rabbit, the roadrunner who defies Wiley’s scientific grasp.

Lucky are the mortals who catch a glimpse of me.  I am the burning bush of Moses, jump starting life’s evolutionary process. Manifesting in archetypes, in fleeting glimpses, in your dreaming: I begin my dance with the Major Arcana’s Magician, and continue to spin and bedazzle throughout the Piscean Age.  By card 21 I complete the circle drawing you into the Age of Aquarius by handing you the World.

Two thousand years ago, I was the essence of the fish and manifest in the man who walks on water, in the shaman who cures the sick and draws Lazarus back from the grave. I am the spirit of that first-century’s quantum leap. I am the message that lives in the heart of the Son of Man; I am card number 1, the Magician.

I represent the spirit of the people where the Christian leap of faith is about to occur. I live in the hearts and minds of Pagan Rome and amongst Northern Europe’s nature-worshipping Druids. I am an incarnation of Morgain, the archetypal goddess and Western, second-century, animistic state of mind. I embody the essence Gaea; I am card number 2, the Druid light, the High Priestess.

I celebrate the union of opposites, where the archetypal Christ marries the Lady of the Lake. I am fertility, the birth of the new faith that catches fire in the third century. I manifest as the pagan projection of Venus transferred onto Mary’s Immaculate Conception. I am card number 3, the Empress.

The quintessence of the Age of Aries is embodied in the Roman Empire. But by century four, the folly of the fish has usurped the pioneering spirit of the ram. From 392 to 395 Theodosius the Great reigns as the last Emperor of a United Rome. Representing the advancements of a previous age, I embody the spirit of the Tarot’s King Arthur. I am card number 4, the Emperor.

The spark that ignites the fire and seizes hold of your imagination is the fifth-century form that I take. I am the inspiration that fires the mystic hearts of Saint Augustine and Saint Patrick. Saint Augustine wrote City of God in 411 and Saint Patrick returned to Ireland in 432. I am the Rumi of devotion manifest in card number 5, the Dalai Lama of the 22, the Hierophant.

My dance turns transcendental when century six gets under way. I am the love affair that develops between Byzantium and Rome when they are reconciled in 519. I am a united Christian Empire, Venus and Mars in love. I am the harmony and peace  projected by card number 6, the Lovers.

I am a seventh-century noble and heavy-metal warrior for the Christian world, inspiration for the Silver Tower, the first order of knighthood that was established by the High King Balmord the Red in 653. I emerge in the legend of the Holy Grail. I am the archetypal Lancelot, card number 7, the Charioteer.

Out of knighthood springs the flower of chivalry. I am the eighth-century dance that occurs when Charlemagne becomes king of the Franks in 771 and is crowned the first Holy Roman Emperor. Grace, courtesy and devotion form the trilogy his reign inspires, attributes best exemplified by the chaste and fair lady of the Tarot, card number 8, Justice.

Following on the heels of infinite hope comes infinite despair in the ninth century. Louis the Pious succeeds Charlemagne in 814. He is a conscientious Frank who demonstrates that he is an able general and administrator. But on the throne the kindly Emperor is easy prey to schemers, the worst being his own children. Having divided his Empire amongst his sons, he finds, to his grief, that not only do they war among themselves, but they turn on their royal benefactor, forcing Louis to abdicate and seek refuge in a monastery. Such is the dance of a lonely monarch, the King Lear of the Tarot, I am the spirit of card number 9, The Hermit.

When the tenth century rolls round, the Christian world is a ship of fools sailing for an unknown disaster.. Wild musings and millennial fears motivate the hearts and minds of the medieval collective. But by wheel of time proves kind and the thousand-year anniversary of Christ’s life passes without cataclysmic consequence. I am benevolent and kind, the embodiment of fate as represented in card number 10, the Wheel of Fortune.

The first quantum leap of the new millennium is inspired by social activism. I am the spirit that catches fire in the wife of Leofork, earl of Mercia, when Lady Godiva makes her stand. She persuades her husband not only to found monasteries at Coventry and Stow, but also obtains a reduction in the excessive taxes levied by her husband by consenting to ride naked through the town on a white horse. Only one person disobeyed her orders to remain behind closed shutters; that old fool of a tailor, Peeping Tom, peeks through his window and is immediately blinded by Godiva’s radiant projection. In the Tarot, I am fair and beautiful. I am seen holding open the jaws of that proud lion, Leo(fork); I am card number 11, Strength.

I manifest in the profound convictions of a man who is hung out to dry for what he believes in. A sword’s crushing blow extinguishes the life of Thomas Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury, on a cold December evening as he ascends the steps of his altar. The brutal event sends tremors through 12th-century Europe. Blame for the murder lays at the feet of Becket’s former close personal friend, King Henry II, who can’t bear that Becket would challenge his authority. I am the indestructible spirit that lives in the heart of martyrs. In the Tarot, I am the archetype of thwarted potential, card number 12, the Hanged Man.

The dance of the infinite is a single-minded and hostile interpretation in the 13th century. A low point in religious orthodoxy occurs when the words of prophets are manipulated to inspire fear. So begins the age of Crusades and repression. The dark hostility reaches a crescendo in 1231 when the Inquisition begins. Pope Gregory IX makes the Dominicans responsible for ferreting out heresy. Thus bloomed an age of torture and intolerance. Historically, I manifest as card number 13, a demon angel arriving on horseback who exposes heretics and burns them at the stake. I am Death.

In the 14th century, hope is rekindled when the Renaissance begins in Italy and balance is regained as a consequence of the middle path. So emerges a new age of  illumination, spurred on by the likes of Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio and Giotto. I am an invigorated spirituality that rises above the black plague. You find me in Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales. I am the archetypal, open-minded alchemist and an angel of rational intelligence, card number 14, Temperance.

The reactionary forces of an allied state and church obscure the light again. I am the pure heart of Jeanne D’Arc, burned at the stake, by the British, as a witch after her ecclesiastical trial. I am the essence of the Aboriginal people of the New World that 15th-century Europe discovers, demonizes and brutally conquers. I am card number 15, the face of European power, the Devil.

Against a backdrop of Martin Luther’s proclamation, the start of the Reformation and the publication of Machiavelli’s The Prince, I live in the spirit of the 16th-century humanist, Sir Thomas More, author of Utopia. He is locked up in “the tower” and beheaded as a traitor for refusal to acknowledge the authority of the excommunicated king, that fool Henry the VIII. I am the archetype of righteousness and the ghost that inhabits the murdering place. Struck by a lightening bolt, the inspiration for card number 16, I am the Tower.

By century 17 religious authority is determined to keep science in check. Astronomers challenge the church on the mechanics of the universe. After constructing a telescope, Galileo enlarges humanity’s vision and conception of the universe. In 1610 he sees the moons of Jupiter through his lens. Eight years later Johannes Kepler proposes the last of three laws of planetary motion. But in 1633 the Inquisition forces Galileo to recant his belief in Copernican theory. I manifest in the Night Watch painted by Rembrandt in 1653; I am the intellect that yearns for an ever-widening comprehension of the origins of the universe. In the Tarot, I am card number 17, the Star.

My rebel yell is a call that awakens democracy in the 18th century. In 1775 the American Revolution begins and on July 4, 1776, the Declaration of Independence is adopted. In 1789 the French Revolution begins with the storming of the Bastille. In 1793 Louis the XVI and Marie-Antoinette are executed. The door is opened for the ultimate rebel, Napoleon Bonaparte. In the Major Arcana, I am a wolf howling at midnight, an iconoclast who eclipses the sun’s bright light and undermines its authority. I inhabit the spirit of card number 18, I am the Moon.

Free of the limitations that church and state once imposed, the new world democracy throws open the doors of science. I am the spirit of invention inspired by the likes of Joseph-Nicephore Niepce, who takes the world’s first photograph in 1826. I shine in the brilliance of F. B. Morse, who patents the telegraph in 1844. I’m present in 1866 when Alfred Nobel invents dynamite, when Alexander Bell patents the phone in 1876, and, three years later, when Edison perfects the electric light. In 1892 I provide the impetus that led to the Diesel engine being patented and I’m present when Pierre and Marie Curie discover radium and polonium in 1898. The philosopher of the century is Nietzsche, who set forth some of the existential ideas that made him famous, namely, the proclamation that “God is dead.” Nietzsche’s atheism — his account of “God’s murder” — was voiced in reaction to the conception of a single, ultimate, judgmental authority who is privy to everyone’s hidden, and personally embarrassing, secrets. In the Tarot I am the bright light of reason, I am the spirit of the collective, I am an ego that imagines itself all radiant; I am card number 19, the Sun.

God is dead and the 20th century turns quantum. We are flying high, airplanes in sky, the dance is an automated, nuclear fandango. I am present in the advances of Einstein, The Wright Brothers and Henry Ford. But I am also twisted out of shape by two world wars, Hiroshima, the Cambodian Killing Fields, the Holocaust and the ongoing wars in the Balkans. I am a small step for a man and a giant leap for mankind. But I am, also, hubris, egotism and greed. I am the glory of intellect and its despair when it functions disconnected from the heart. That’s when I manifest in the extinction of species, in global warming, overpopulation. I am the volatile environmental legacy that children are inheriting. I am the edge on which the collective dangerously waltzes. You recognize me as millennial fear. In the Major Arcana, I am the angel who trumpets the dead from their resting place, card number 20, Judgement.

And into the 21st century, arms extended, the cosmos whirling around, I give you the Aquarian age. I embody the new century. I dance the dance of the mystical mother, the provider of life and all your immediate metaphysical frontiers. I am the intellect and heart of the living, breathing earth. I am your goddess, your scientific, subjective point of view, as object of faith. I am your garden and worthy of worship. I am the third planet in the solar system, a mystic top, whirling on axis, perfectly illuminated in the sun of infinite Buddha light. I am the deity of the new millennium. The goddess lives. I am hope and promise, card number 21. I manifest in nature, I am the World.

Copyright ©MJ Stone 2001, reprinted here with permission.
Please share via link only. Thank you.

Featured Tarot de Marseille cards:  Dodal (Fool) and Conver (World)

Eleven Power and Twin Towers

Today, Americans are marking the 10th anniversary of September 11. Nobody will ever be able to forget where they were that morning, nor the striking footage – somehow shot so clearly from every angle possible – of the world’s tallest skyscraper disintegrating into smoke before our very eyes.

At this time every year, I am compelled to zoom out and view the extensive symbolism surrounding the the Twin Towers, which stood for three decades as the financial matrix of the world. Two images stand out and contrast in my mind; one of Philippe Petit playfully defying death, atop a tightrope, (the beginning), and one of people falling to theirs from the burning buildings (the end). Both are of mythic proportion, completely surreal and defy explanation within the scope of our ordinary reality.

Power and the Tower

In a previous post I mentioned how Tarot expresses ‘universal laws.’ It’s as if all the scripts were written (by us) long ago and we just keep re-enacting and revising them…and that is really what myths are – a record of dream-time stories from the collective unconscious, unlike history, which is a record of stories as events, as they occur in the outer world.
Sometimes the fabric between the two realms is lifted or torn and the effect is momentous, impossible to explain. It usually happens when the rational mind (masculine) has become too dominant, threatening the balance of life by depleting us of mystery, magic and awe (feminine). A grand act of surrealism, for better or worse, throws our rational minds into chaos, challenging our set notion of which realm, exactly, we are in. It’s a form of death, when everything familiar suddenly isn’t. And at this opening between the veils (in Greek, the word apocalypse means ‘lifting of the veil’), there is a moment of truth or grace, when time just stops and feels infinite at once. This is the expression of the ‘mute’ number, 11.  In  Marseille Tarot arcanum 11,  La Force, the Goddess’ hat is shaped like a lemniscate or number 8, signifying her infinite dominion over balance, truth, paradox, law and order in the natural world.

Grimaud TdM

11 is the master number of illumination and inspiration. If it shows up, that’s usually a sign. World players know of the number’s power and have tried to invoke it – Armistice was signed on 11/11 at the 11th hour and Prince William and Kate Middleton were married on the 29th (reduces to 11) day of the month at the 11th hour in 2011.  The towers themselves formed a colossal 11, as if standing in constant invocation to the heavens. And they were twins. In  both alchemy and cross-cultural myth, twins embody the duality (and paradox) that each of us must work with, overcome and unify, a theme that reappears over and over in Tarot. Another duality we create and reckon with is between ourselves and what we imagine as God. Any act of balance or karma takes the form of Judgement in our minds, as if we are being rewarded or punished by events we have no control over.
A tower is, of course, an overtly masculine symbol. It’s  La Maison Dieu, ‘God’s House.’ Putting aside Babel for a moment, in Tarot duality terms, that means the opposing and uniting force that knocks down the ego, blows it’s mind or brings it to climax is feminine – ‘La Force’ of arcanum 11.

The Supreme Mother Goddess, Durga, whose name means ‘Fortress’,  rides a lion or tiger. (Bengal, late 19th/early 20th c)


Enter the Solar Hero

Not surprisingly, the young man who heard the Towers calling him  to give them life is a double fire sign, Leo (the Lion) with Aries Moon.  He is an agile performer, the fearless star of his own show – an artist who creates from the heart and performs dramatically daring feats. Aries is also the Fool, the ‘wise child’ and the hero who lives for the next mission. Sun conjunct Pluto indicates a person who was born with a very strong feeling of destiny, of having something to show to the world that will transform consciousness. His Jupiter, Lord of the Sky is in Capricorn (mastery, the corporate world). Not everyone with this combination would use their faith and skill to literally ascend to the summit of the world’s tallest banking institution, yet, for him, it was the only way. Fire is known for it’s ego size and you’d have to have one as tall as the Towers themselves to want to perform a feat like this, or indeed to have built such monoliths in the first place. The difference is that Philippe, wise Fool, always maintained his connection with the universe and was keenly aware of his place in it:

Grimaud TdM

“At some point in one of the crossings, I lay down on the wire and looked at the sky, and I saw a bird above me. And again, because… my senses were [decoupled]. I could see that bird pretty high up, and I saw the eyes were red. And I thought of the myth of Prometheus there. But the bird was circling and looking at me as if I was invading his territory, as if I was trespassing, which I was. So at some point I thought the gods – the god of the wind, the gods of the towers, the god of the wire – all those invisible forces that we persist in thinking don’t exist, but actually rule our lives – might become impatient, might become annoyed at my persistent vagabondage there. So my intuition told me it was time for me to close the curtain on this very intimate performance…”

Zero Ground 

The archetype of the Fool in Tarot is one who has left the realm of perceived reality, of wealth, possessions, pain and attachments. It sounds a bit like dying, but it’s actually freedom from death. Transcendent, he wafts between forms like a breeze and has no fear of reaching the end. He knows there isn’t one, so is free to live life “1000%.”  Most of us find it hard to get past the more finite idea of death. It’s terrifying, like the Grim Reaper in arcanum 13 and to be avoided at all costs. The two figures strike a very similar pose (this feature is unique to Tarot Marseille), plus, one is unnumbered, while the other is unnamed –  it would seem they illustrate the dual experiences of facing imminent death, as depicted in the two photographs at the opening of the post.

We are eternal.   Peace.

 

All written content herein, except quotation, is © Roxanna Bikadoroff and may not be re-used without my permission. Kindly share via link only. Thanks for respecting.