The Empress, the Alembic and the Secret Fire

From joy springs all creation, by joy it is sustained,
towards joy it proceeds, and to joy it returns.
– Mundaka Upanishad

Tarot de Marseille is a funny creature. Just when you think you’ve ‘figured it all out’, like a chimera it changes into something else. Fortunately I en-joy a mystery and seeking that which has no end. If I’ve learned one thing from TdM, it’s that the same pattern exists in whatever particular wisdom path you choose to follow. “All roads lead to Alexandria.” (wink)
The enigma is perhaps most apparent in the triad sequence, beginning with the Empress. To re-cap TdM’s inherent Pythagorean principal:

One becomes two, two becomes three and
out of three comes the one as the fourth.

Each 3 place card completes a triad from which the next cycle of three will be born, with 21 also completing the entire 3 x 7 cycle. Unlike the 1s with their solar crowns (monadic) and 2s with their lunar vessels (dyadic), there’s no  obvious, recurring object in every 3 place card (triadic), other than a predominance of wateriness (and darkness, in the case of 9, 12, 15 and 18). The Mercurial spirit of creation requires a container – a body of some kind – for transformation to take place, AND it is also that container, like caterpillar and pupa. They are not separate, but form each other. The 3 place cards allude to this secret, inner and outer process. Magic is afoot, is all we really know.
[Please click on any images to enlarge]

3 place cards, Camoin-Jodorowsky TdM

3
Let’s look at the three cards in the 3 place with the numeric sum of 3. The first, The Empress (3) shows us what we need to know. Atop her sceptre is the globus cruciger or sovereign’s orb – nothing unusual about that….except maybe the size? In reality, a globus this big would be hand held, with a smaller one atop the accompanying sceptre. Masculine sceptre and feminine orb (and the 4 and 3 of the orb’s parts) are being combined, and we can see that the base of her sceptre points to precisely where it’s all going to happen.

Emblem 2, the feminine qualities of the stone, from Michael Maier’s, Atalanta fugiens

In alchemy, one of the symbols for antimony, the ‘wild spirit of man’ (sometimes represented by a wolf) is the reversed Venus/copper symbol – a circle with cross on top. “Pliny the Elder (ca 77 AD) made a distinction between the “male” and “female” forms of antimony; the male form is probably the sulfide, while the female form, which is superior, heavier, and less friable, has been suspected to be native metallic antimony.” [Wikipedia]

cinnabar with mercury droplets, antimony rendered in antimony

But most (?) likely, it is the symbol for cinnabar, the ‘parent’ mineral from which Mercury is born. Note the orb which the philosopher’s child, hermaphroditic Mercury holds as he wades through the alchemical bathwater, below. Is it the cinnabar womb water, or the antimony purification bath, which eats away everything but gold? Or maybe both, considering the two parent luminaries lovingly at hand?

‘Our Son’ Mercury, Baro Urbigerus 1705

‘The watery matrix holdeth the fire captive.’  – Jacob Boehme

Like the eagle on her shield, the Empress has ‘wings.’ Beside her left hip is a scallop or scalloped bowl/baptismal fount. The scalloped basin was also a type of alchemical vessel and symbol of the Hermetic pilgrim, according to Fulcanelli. Either way, it has to do with the purification process.

Hellenistic Greek Glass Shell 2nd-1st century B.C.

In both type 1 and type 2 Empress cards, there is often what resembles a triple flag under the basin, likely representing the main 3 stages/colours of the work (black, white, red), as in this relief (detail) on Notre Dame Cathedral depicting all the stages of alchemy (please see this new article on the Popess for more on Notre Dame alchemical reference). It might also represent the three philosophical elements; salt/body, sulphur/soul and mercury/spirit.

Threefold alchemy ‘flag’ from Notre Dame, Noblet and Payen Empress details.

All these raw, heavy materials, still in their ‘vulgar’ state almost appear to weigh her down. Mythically speaking, since the Emperor evokes Pluto (aka Dionysus, aka Osiris), his partner must also evoke Persephone, Queen of the Dead and personification of Spring regeneration. The ‘M’ shape of her blue skirt is the age-old symbol for water. Maya or Maia is mother ocean/womb, and Maria is literally ‘Maia with fire (R/Ur) in her belly’ (covered by red vest). The perennial fountain? Or an alembic?  I like to think of her eagle shield as the ultrasound screen, and her sceptre as the transducer.  But again, M might just stand for MERCURY, here in female form (remember, with 3s, the process, container and its contents are as one).

Noblet, Dodal and two versions of Conver Empress card

Another honourable Maria, namely Maria the Prophetess, was the first [non-mythical] alchemist of the western world. Schooled by the great Zosimos of Panopolis, she lived sometime between the 1st and 3rd centuries in Alexandria, Egypt (of course). Maria also had a favourite axiom:

One becomes two, two becomes three and
out of three comes the one as the fourth.

Wait, haven’t we heard that before? Did she get it from Pythagoras (who lived several centuries prior) or is it just a case of universal truth? Both geniuses stood faithfully by these words. Pythagoras was not an alchemist, but nevertheless, he understood this fundamental equation to be the basis of all creative cycles.

mathematical and alchemical tetractys
Empress crown detail from Schaer Tarot

‘Maria the Jewess,’ as she’s also known, “incorporated life-like attributes into her descriptions of metal such as bodies, souls, and spirits. She believed that metals had two different genders, and by joining the two genders together a new entity could be made.” [Wikipedia]
She is accredited with many firsts, particularly her invention of the balneum Mariae (bain-Marie), progenator of the modern-day double-boiler. Of her written works surviving in Arabic we find two most curious titles; The Book of Maria and the Wise Men and The Epistle of the Crown and the Creation of the Newborn Baby. 

Leonora Carrington, The Chrysopeia of Mary the Jewess, 1964

Maria excelled in both mystical and scientific approaches and it’s thought she may have originated the idea of 4 colour stages in alchemy. Indeed she herself was an alembic, which is the whole point of this exercise, the teachings of the 3s. Hermes Trismegistus (‘thrice great’) was another such person, albeit more mythical. In Pythagorean numerology, 3 is the number of creativity, joy, artistic expression. In astrology, the trine is considered the most harmonious aspect, connecting planets or points of the same element. (However, it is fiery and energy can flow with lightening speed for better or worse).

Maria Prophetissima and Hermes Trismegistus from Michael Maier’s Symbola Aurea Mensae Duodecim Nationum (1617)
Maria’s bath, 1528.

So, the Empress, similar to the Juggler, has all four elements (or stages) about her, in physical form; earth (ground below + snake/globus + barely visible horns), fire (crown + hair), air (wings + human features) and water (blue robe/shell). The eagle represents the work as well as the water element. The difference being that 1 alone can’t yet do anything with all the separate, single parts, other than superficially (ie, practical magic), like performing tricks or perhaps trading with Jack for his cow.
The Empress and Emperor will complete each other (he too has orbed sceptre and eagle, and faces toward her), but they have not yet come together, they are still 3 and 4, neither added nor multiplied.

Conver Empress and World cards. Note the shield eagle’s amphibious wing.

In this older version (below), that she has attributes of the four ‘elemental beasts’ of the World card are more obvious; longer ‘horns’ (in crown and necklace), wings/human, eagle/phoenix and even a lion’s paw/mane.

Guilaume Dubesset-Claude Valentin, ca 1680

12
I’ve already written on some of the 3 place cards – the Hanged Man, the Hermit, the Devil and the Moon – so will just touch on the Hanged Man (12) here, as he’s part of this 3 x 3 sequence.
His flaming hair and his number might suggest solar connotations, although he’s still situated in-between the Sun and Moon ‘parents’. The Sun represents the gold, and thus the process of purifying the ‘inner’ (philosophical) gold is in progress. But it is not the literal Sun, physical fire or material gold. Rather, it is a different fire altogether.

Visconti Sforza 16th c, Jacques Vieville 17th c, Nicholas Conver TdM 18th c

In the middle example, the number is placed so that he is flipped, indicating that as his body descends, his spirit ascends (note the lunar and solar ‘mounds’ on each side of his head, the solar one containing all the heavenly spheres), with emphasis on the spiritual. Not an accident, but likely an Orphic reference. In the third card, the descent of the ‘Sun’ (his head) into matter is emphasized. High noon and midnight, apex and nadir, bipolar. It really is like the separation that goes on inside the alchemist’s glass egg. The main thing is that we can’t observe his inner process. Typically, the Hanged Man’s expression is placid, as if he’s either in acceptance or ‘somewhere else.’ His gibbet is like a (golden) doorway or threshold. All of this suggests he is experiencing what’s known in alchemy as the secret fire:

Search, therefore, this fire with all strength of your mind, and you shall reach the goal you have set yourself; for it is this that brings to completion all the stages of the Work, and is the key of all the Philosophers, which they have never revealed in their books. If you think well and deep upon this above-mentioned fire, you will know it. Not otherwise.
Potanus, The Secret Fire

To me, the Visconti-Sforza version looks very alchemical, its colours alluding strongly to the (philosophical) Green Lion devouring the Sun. I love how well the following description of the symbolism relates to the card, albeit it seems to be more from a Jungian perspective than traditional alchemy (and granted, the solar ‘ego’ looks anything but terrified):

The image corresponds to the releasing of primordial essence. That is why the lion is green, which is a primordial, unripe color. It also connotates fecundity. Eating the sun symbolizes the dominance of the Ego by instinctual forces. It is the beginning of a return to a more natural psychological state in which human beings flourish.
The ego perceives the encounter as terrifying because all transformational processes appear to be a kind of death to the ego. However, this process is the catalyst for an encounter with the Self. The instincts are amoral relative to human society and culture. Social conditioning aims to keep the instincts in check until the Higher Self is adequately present. Once present, our attitudes and feelings will be conditioned and directed by the Self. Otherwise, we experience a regression to the animalistic nature.
~ Tony Laguia, ‘The Green Lion Devouring the Sun‘ [Medium]

Visconti-Sforza hanged Man and Alchemical Green Lion devouring the Sun

21
The World (21) card, signifies the completion of the opus, the central figure representing ‘quintessence.’ Like an awakened eye, it is the revelation of that which embodies the essence of all past forms and potential for that shall be. In other words, what has been purified through many transformations becomes a catalyst for transformation; the Holy Grail or Philosopher’s Stone. Perhaps you’ve met someone who is a human tuning fork, or experienced a work of art, poetry, music, etc. that in its perfection had the effect of putting you ‘right side up’ again. Perhaps Tarot itself. ‘A light cannot help shedding its light. A flower cannot help giving off its fragrance.’ [Upanishads, ibid] When the young man in arcanum 6 was being initiated into the school of Venus/Eros, it was with the ultimate purpose of becoming just such a universal lover. ‘Everybody loves a lover.’

Ascend above any height, descend further than any depth; receive all sensory impressions of the created: water, fire, dryness and wetness. Think that you are present everywhere: in the sea, on earth and in heaven; think that you were never born and that you are still in the embryonic state: young and old, dead and in the hereafter. Understand everything at the same time: time, place, things: quality and quantity.
~ Corpus Hermeticum, 1460

The four creatures in the corners are assumed to be the four evangelists, the fixed signs of the zodiac, the seasons and/or the 4 elements. However…the bull is also lunar (2), the lion solar (1), and as we can see, they are now conjoined (3). The eagle previously represented the alchemical work, so then who might the winged human be when they’re at home? What of the Empress’ wings? Hmm.

Incidentally, Egyptian initiates were  called ‘scarabs’ because they ‘pushed along the egg of their regeneration’ – the container and the work?

Below, left, is the oldest of all known TdM type World cards (found in the Sforza castle cistern). Though it is badly damaged, some curious details remain. The androgyne or hermaphroditic Christ/Dionysus figure appears to have one breast only, on their right side, which is our left (mirroring). Their other, male side has the thicker leg. On their breasted/female side, the partially-obscured bull (or cow) has perfect, lunar crescent horns and on their male side, the lion has distinct, solar rays in its mane. Unique to this card, the angel in the top left (Aquarius/Matthew/air) has a ‘flame of inspiration’ in his forehead – ‘fire in the belly’ raised to crown level?

Oldest TdM ca mid-late 16th c (photo courtesy Ross Caldwell), Jacques Vieville ca 1650

The Vieville version, right, mixes things up a bit – bull and lion are switched around and have no wings. Since this card depicts a sexless figure facing straight forward, I ventured to see what one might look like as two. (Admittedly, it felt taboo, but…for science).
The male twin has a red cloak, denoting fire and his life force energy is directing upwards, expressed poignantly by what’s left of the sceptre. His body, arms open, creates an M for Mars. The female twin has a dark blue cloak, denoting water and her large V for Venus directs life force energy downward to her vulva, which she covers with her hands. Two opposite triangles, converging as one. On the Empress and Emperors’ shields, in fact, her eagle’s wings  point upward, his downward, similar to the yin-yang idea of ‘opposite but interconnecting, mutually perpetuating forces.’ [wiki]

Vieville twins

In medieval alchemy, ‘philosophical Mercury’ is what remains when earth, air, fire and water are removed from a substance. It is associated with ‘prima materia’ (‘first matter’), from which all other matter is composed.

Philosophical Mercury, composed of sulphur and quicksilver (distinguished from their ordinary or ‘vulgar’ forms),  ca 1400

When you make the two one, and when you make the inside like the outside and the outside like the inside and the above like the below, and when you make the male and the female one and the same, so that the male not be male nor the female female, and when you fashion eyes in the place of an eye, and a hand in the place of a hand and a foot in the place of a foot, and a likeness in the place of a likeness: then will you enter [the kingdom].
~ From the Gospel of Didymos Judas Thomas (‘the Twin’), Nag Hammadi Library

ANAHATA the heart (fourth) chakra

Whatever wisdom path you choose to follow, the same patterns are found,  and this is because patterns are ultimately geometrical/mathematical. But wisdom is not just an intellectual exercise. It must be applied, to thrive.

In Sanskrit, ‘anahata’ means ‘unstruck.’ (Funny, considering arcanum 6). The anahata or heart chakra, illustrated by two, interlocking triangles, is associated with unconditional love, compassion, and joy. This rose window of our personal cathedral serves to balance the upper (spiritual) and lower (material) chakras, so that we may experience pure love for both self and others, without attachment and expectation.

On March 21 (3/3), Venus (Ptolemaic 3rd sphere) will conjunct Saturn in Pisces. Saturn is the cold karma lord and task master of our consciousness, who has a way of shackling the heart with guilt, pain and sorrow. In Pisces, Saturn can feel like the weight of the whole, wretched world (as we collectively witness the shadow expression of yet another ancient symbol). Venus, on the other hand, exalts in Pisces, bringing potential for a moment of healing, amnesty and grace to weary hearts. Like the Empress conducting Venus into her belly, if we channel the energy of this transit, perhaps whatever beauty we create from it will serve as a tuning fork for someone, somewhere, sometime down the road.  ~ rb

“I’ll be back…”

Thanks for reading!

All written content except quotations is copyright© Roxanna Bikadoroff and may not be reused or reprinted. Please share via LINK ONLY (accompanied by pull quote/paragraph with credit/link is fine).

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