The hot, languid days of summer
Have shortened to cool and restless.
But it’s not quite autumn yet;
Even though we can smell it in the air
And see it in the first golden leaves of the ash trees.
We pace at a tipping point
Ready to fall into winter.
All nature hovers in a still, trembling moment of…
Anticipation
The Judgement key is an obvious depiction of Judgement Day. The Hierophant and perhaps The Devil are the other blatantly Catholic major arcana, although most of the keys have a Catholic feel to them. If you lived in Europe in the 15th and 16th centuries when tarot decks were becoming popular you were either Catholic or you were in trouble. The Church had zero tolerance for heretics, and Jews and Muslims were treated like dirt. This was also the time of the infamous European Witch Hunts. So it is not surprising that, even though their message is universal, the designers of the early tarot decks used a Christian theme to make their work more widely accessible. (See previous post on tarot origins)
The death, redemption, and rebirth into a blessed afterlife concept lies at the heart of nearly every religion. It reminds the faithful that there is more to this world than what meets the untrained eye and challenges us to let go of our strangle hold on the material realm. To do this we must release the belief that the more money we make the happier we will be, that the job that is sucking us dry is our only lifeline to a better existence, that everything would be fine if we had just been born into a happy nuclear family, that it makes even one iota of difference what our neighbors think of us, or that we are somehow fatally flawed and unlovable. Each of these convictions clips our wings and traps us in that tiny fragment of the Multiverse called “the material world”. See my previous post on The Devil.
Those are lovely sentiments, you say, but I like this world and I like my creature comforts. And I need to support myself or I’ll be out on a street corner clutching a give-me-money sign and looking pitiful. And even if I do give up all my stuff, how the hell do I escape the material? I’m not ready to die yet.
First off, the goal is not to “escape the material”. We are attached to physical reality just as someone suffering from agoraphobia is attached to his house.
The goal is not to get him to escape his house, but to be comfortable with navigating the outside world and returning home safely. As long as we are “alive” this world is our home, but to be able to live that life more fully we must travel in the other worlds, bring back their wisdom, and apply it. Most of us don’t make it farther than the sidewalk, but I’ve met some amazing people on the sidewalk in front of my house.
The makers of the tarot adopted the Judgement Day myth as a metaphor for spiritual awakening, for getting to the sidewalk. The tarot isn’t a guide to the afterlife; it’s a guide to this life.
Notice that Judgement is the second to last card of the major arcana. All the cards before it are mini-lessons about how to get there. If there is a single theme to the tarot it is the lack of communication between the conscious mind, which perceives and comments on the material world and the unconscious mind, which perceives and comments on the outer planes. Our formidable task as human beings is to bring these two parts of ourselves that don’t even speak the same language, let alone view reality in the same way, into useful dialogue.
We see this clearly first in The Lovers (key6), where the man (conscious) is barely looking at the woman (unconscious), who is ignoring him and looking up to the angel, a being on another plane.
When we arrive at The Devil (key 15), despite all the lessons in between, things have deteriorated. Both the man and the woman are now chained to the material world. The woman is staring bleakly ahead and the man looks like he is trying to reason with her—a very poor tactic when dealing with the unconscious. These two have put all their faith in earthly power and money and carefully built themselves a sturdy tower to protect it all. They probably have two fat 401ks and stocks and bonds out the yin yang.
But the divine gives them one last chance. It strikes down that tower with a bolt of lightning and they tumble to earth. (The Tower, key 16)
This is the dark night of the soul and we all must face it at least once in our lives in one form or another. It may be a serious illness or a dream that either scares the shit out of us or dazzles us with its powerful beauty. It may be an initiation, or the loss of a loved one, a limb, our house, our savings, etc. It shatters our psyche and changes our lives to the point where nothing makes sense anymore and we are forced to reexamine all of our previous convictions. Things seem hopeless and we may even wish we were dead.
But if we are strong, we keep on until we see a tiny glimmer of hope (The Star, key 17).
And if we have the courage to follow that star, we arrive in the realm of the unconscious, the vast “Twilight Zone” of The Moon (key 18)
and we learn up close and personal that “There are more things in heaven and earth…Than are dreamt of in (our philosophies).”* With this experience and revelation, the conscious mind can no longer ignore the murmurings of the unconscious, which are becoming louder and clearer. Once we manage to establish a tenuous dialogue between the part of us that is in constant communion with the outer realms and the part of us that understands and operates in this world, things which seemed impossible become possible and the chains that bound us fall away.
The Sun (key 19) pictures the man and woman transformed into innocent children, holding hands and dancing together. They are now in communication. With this insight comes spiritual awakening (Judgement).
The two children are now integrated into one child, who stands between the man and woman, the conscious and the unconscious, which gave him/her birth. And most importantly, he/she is now facing the angel and completely aware of the clarion call of the divine.
We are all heroes struggling through a life that often seems unreasonably cruel and inscrutable. The tarot was designed to be a guide through the chaos toward enlightenment.
To be continued…..
*The Bard says it all yet again. Hamlet, Act I. Scene V
The concept of Judgement is not confined to Christianity. For example, when an ancient Egyptian died he expected to journey through Duat, the kingdom of Osiris. He would undergo many tests and trials and hopefully arrive at the place of judgement where Anubis would weigh his heart against the feather of Maat, the goddess of truth and justice. If his heart was heavier or lighter than the feather his soul was thrown to Ammit, the Devourer of Souls, but if it was in balance with the feather his soul continued to paradise and eternal life.
But the Judgement key is a depiction of the Christian Judgement Day. In his first letter to the Thessalonians, 5:16, the Apostle Paul describes Judgement Day: “For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the archangel’s call, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first; then we who are alive, who are left, shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air…”
Most Judgement keys show an Angel calling the dead up out of their coffins with a mighty blast from a trumpet, just like Paul’s description. The horn is huge and lines of sound pour out from its bell. Jagged spikes lancing out from the angel underscore the power of the scene. Note that it is sound and not light that wakes the dead. Our sense of hearing is more primal than our sense of sight. It is easy to sleep through daybreak, but an alarm clock is impossible to ignore. We “see” objects all the time in our dreams, but when we “hear” a voice or sound in a dream it is such a powerful experience that it often wakes us up. Unlike an image, which we can easily decide was “only a dream”; we have trouble dismissing a sound as nothing.
But Paul doesn’t tell the Thessalonians which archangel will appear with the Lord and he isn’t clear about who is blowing the trumpet. The author of Revelations tells us that it will be the archangel who sounds the blast during the apocalypse: “…the seventh angel blew his trumpet, and there were loud voices in heaven…” Rev. 11:15. But he also neglects to tell us who that seventh angel is. And so there is disagreement amongst my sources over whether the trumpet player is Michael or Gabriel or Moroni.
Moroni?
Mormons believe that Moroni was an ancient North American prophet who appeared to Joseph Smith as an angel and directed him to the golden plates from which the Book of Mormon was translated. Note the trumpet. But I strongly doubt that the angel in this tarot key is Moroni. The New World hadn’t even been discovered and, of course, the Church of the Latter-day Saints didn’t exist when tarot cards became popular in the 15th century.
In his book, The Tarot, a Key to the Wisdom of the Ages, Paul Foster Case assures us that the angel “is obviously the angel Gabriel, not only because he carries a trumpet, but also because Gabriel is the angel of the element of water, which is indicated by his blue robe.” In the B.O.T.A. and Rider-Waite-Smith decks the angel’s robe is, indeed, blue, but his wings are red, the usual color for the element of fire, which is Michael’s element. In the Marseilles decks, the angel’s robes are a variety of colors, often red. Also, the angel Gabriel has only recently been pictured with a trumpet. In medieval art he is almost always pictured with lilies or other white flowers.
S. Vernon McCasland has found perhaps the earliest depiction of a trumpeting angel resurrecting the dead in an Armenian illuminated manuscript dated 1455, at the Walters Art Museum, Baltimore.* However, as far as I could tell, there was no mention that the angel is Gabriel.
The first mention in English literature of Gabriel as trumpeter is in John Milton’s Paradise Lost (1667). * “Betwixt these rockie pillars Gabriel sat, Chief of the Angelic guards” (IV.545f)… he Blew his trumpet, heard in Oreb since perhaps When God descended, and perhaps once more To sound at general doom.” (IX.73ff). And although it isn’t mentioned in the Qur’an, the traditional Islamic trumpeter of doom is Israfil, not Gabriel.
In The Devil’s Picture Book, Paul Huson assures us that the angel “is undoubtedly Saint Michael, the archangel, and he can be recognized as such if not by the action he performs, then by his traditional cross-emblazoned banner floating from the trumpet itself.”
The Catholic church gives the Archangel Michael four responsibilities:
So, according to Catholic teaching, it is obviously Michael, not Gabriel who will preside over Judgement Day. But Huson was only half right. The white banner with the red cross is St George’s cross, not St Michael’s cross, which is a blue cross on a white background. However, a quick perusal of Google images for Archangel Michael revealed a few depictions of him carrying a white shield with a red cross, but none of him carrying a blue cross in any form.
And I actually found a picture of him blowing a trumpet.
It is obviously Michael—not only because Holy Trinity Studios says so, but also because, as in many other depictions of him, he is killing satan.
But this is still only educated guess-work. Why not ask someone who has actually spoken with the archangels? According to Doreen Virtue’s post “8 ways to recognize Archangel Michael” this archangel has a loud, clear, matter of fact voice. She says it’s a voice you can’t ignore and actually pictures a trumpet shaped megaphone next to this description. His aura is a royal purple that’s so bright it looks like cobalt blue. And he’s hot. The people he visits often perspire and some women feel like they’re having hot flashes. Michael offers support, courage, and confidence.
Gabriel, however, “is the archangel of communication, often announces what’s on the horizon, and acts like a manager or agent in orchestrating new ventures related to one’s soul purpose.” *** He gives insights through dreams and meditation.
So which one of these two angels would be more likely to sound a trumpet till the dead rise from their graves and escort the quick and the dead through an apocalypse and into heaven?
Archangel Michael?
Or Archangel Gabriel?
I’m betting that angel would be Michael. Anyone want to bet on Gabriel? We only have till Judgement Day to find out who wins.
*S Vernon McCasland, “Gabriel’s Trumpet” Journal of Bible and Religion 9.3 [August 1941:159–161].
**Catholic Encyclopedia: St Michael the Archangel.
***Doreen Virtue, Archangels 101: How to Connect Closely with Archangels Michael, Raphael, Uriel, Gabriel and Others for Healing, Protection, and Guidance,
Christopher Vogler wrote a book called The Writer’s Journey, Mythic Structure for Writers (first printing, 1998). Borrowing heavily from Joseph Campbell’s landmark book, The Hero with a Thousand Faces (1949), and the work of Carl Jung, he was the first to describe The Hero’s Journey as a template for stories. I used to wonder why he called it The Writer’s Journey instead of The Hero’s Journey, but over the years I’ve come to understand.
Vogler wrote his book for writers, and learning to write is a true Hero’s Journey. But unlike a story, which has a beginning, middle, and end, the writer’s journey never ends. It’s not a circle; it’s a spiral. Each turn takes you deeper into the mystery of how to create a story. The stages and archetypes that Vogler describes remain the same, but they are portrayed by different events and people with each turn. At the start of my journey:
With the second turn I wrote Mainly by Moonlight. My Ordinary World had changed because, of course, my life had changed. The Call to Action was the idea for the second book. There was no refusal of the Call and the Threshold was nonexistent. My mentor was my editor, Jessica Morrell. Tests, Allies, and Enemies were the same but slightly different. For instance, I’d gotten much better at the basic skills and was working more on plot and character development. I didn’t have to go through stages 7-11 quite so many times.
I am now on the third turn. I submitted both manuscripts to Jessica to edit. She had helped me with bits and pieces of them, but had never looked at them in their completed form. She earned every bit of her fee. She tore them apart. Reading her critique was a heartbreaking ordeal. Her comments were extensive and she did a line by line edit on Mainly by Moonlight, but the first paragraph of her critique sums most of it up:
“There’s so much to like and appreciate in this story. (Mainly by Moonlight)
1. Fabulous title.
2. Plausible continuation of previous story.
3. Improved writing overall and gorgeous descriptions and wordplay, as always.
Some of the main problems I see with both books is that you’re not following a three-act structure with clearly-drawn plot points and reversals and that you’re focused on the lessons you want to teach young readers instead of plot. But genre YA is tightly wound and plot-driven. And it is not about finding issues, theories, philosophies and then creating a story around it. It is about finding the right voice, finding the right character, and telling his or her story.”
Her other basic concerns were equally alarming:
Jessica’s experienced and unbiased eye spotted problems I never would have seen and a few that I did sort of see but didn’t want to change because I was emotionally attached to them. I am now in the process of absorbing her advice and figuring out how best to apply it. It will take months of work, but when I’m finished the books will be much, much better, and, I hope, publishable.
This is why writers have editors.
A Library is a magical place: all those books jammed together, whispering and daring each other to grab the attention of unsuspecting patrons and teach them a thing or three. I am certain I was the subject of just such a conspiracy. I had chosen my stack of books and was ambling contentedly toward the checkout machines when I made an unplanned right hand turn toward the mystery section. Maybe just one more, I thought. A mystery. Haven’t read a good murder mystery in awhile. My eyes skimmed the titles and immediately lit on an ornate font that hinted at a medieval murder mystery, my favorite. I plucked the book from the shelves and sure enough, it was The Song of the Nightingale, one of the Hawkenlye Mysteries by Alys Clare, set in early 13th century southern England. In retrospect, I’m sure I heard a triumphant “Gotcha!” as I added the book to my stack.
I enjoyed the book mostly because of its view into the trials of England under the reign of King John. As its Kirkus Review https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/alys-clare/song-nightingale/ states, it’s “much stronger on history than mystery.”
And history was the reason the book decided it needed to come home with me. The main character’s son had become involved with the mysterious Cathars of the Languedoc. They ask him to take the book of their teachings, the story of the hero’s journey or Pilgrim’s Progress told in pictures, into England to keep it safe. As it turns out, this “book” is the first Tarot deck.
Great premise.
It caught my attention.
Was it possible that the Tarot was created by this doomed sect of heretics in southern France?
An afternoon of research on the internet convinced me that this was not the case. It looked really good at first. The Cathars, or, as they called themselves, Bons Hommes:
However, the timing is not quite right. The Cathars did manage to hang on in northern Italy into the mid 1300’s, and although the Visconti-Sforza tarot, the oldest known deck, was also created in northern Italy, it didn’t appear untill the mid 1400’s a full century after Catharism had been crushed.
But the kicker, as far as I’m concerned is that the Cathars mistrusted the material world because it was the filthy creation of Satan. No statues, paintings, or any other attempt to capture spirituality in a material form, graced their meeting places.* Why would they choose to portray their sacred mysteries in the very paintings they abhorred?
But I had become fond of the Bons Hommes, even though they were totally anal retentive about many of the things I consider sacred—like sex, food, and art.
They did, however:
In this day and age many of us would consider them to be “good human beings” indeed. I would like to think that they had some input into the tarot.
So I searched a bit further and found a treasure. “Catharism and the Tarot” by Robert V. O’Neill is a meticulously referenced treatise that follows the influence of the Cathars through history to a fascinating endpoint. He also concluded that the Cathars probably weren’t the sole originators of the tarot, but he shows quite convincingly that they did have an influence.
The thing we tend to forget about history is that it isn’t as simple and straightforward as our textbooks would have us believe. Even in a time when horseback was the quickest way to get from point A to point B and the fate of a letter was iffy, everything still influenced everything else and one idea still led to five other ideas. It just happened much…more….slowly. O’Neill observes that just as the precepts of Catharism derived from earlier philosophies, those same ideas indirectly influenced the apocalyptic vision of Joachim of Fiore (c. 1130/35-1201/2 CE) which in turn influenced St. Francis of Assisi and the Franciscan order he started in the early 13th century.
To make a very long story short and less precise:
Joachim of Fiore was a priest in good standing of the Catholic Church who believed in the literal truth of the Book of Revelations. He prophesied that there were three ages of man. The third age of man would begin, of course, very soon with the coming of the antichrist. But the Antichrist would be overcome and Christ would rule once more due to the efforts of a few “spiritual men”. The Christ vs. Antichrist scenario is, of course straight out of Cathar dualistic theology. Other apocalyptic literature scenarios had also been put forth. One was collection of manuscripts known as The Oracles of Leo the Wise, only a few of which can actually be attributed to the Byzantine emperor Leo VI, (866–912 CE). The coming of the apocalypse was pretty heady stuff and Medieval Europe was abuzz with it for centuries.
Then came the Franciscan Friars, with their vows of poverty and close contact with the people. This is the same modus operendi that made the Cathars, whose priests, or perfecti, lived lives of poverty and taught among the common people, so popular. The Franciscans also gave equal status to women and encouraged individual spirituality. St. Francis even created a third branch of their order called the tertiaries, which consisted of lay people interested in developing spiritually—very much like the credentes, the lay portion of the Cathar faith.*
At this point, there was very little similarity between the Franciscans and Joachimism. However, with the death of St. Francis, the order splintered. The Spiritual Franciscans adopted Joachimism’s apocalyptic views and saw themselves as the few “spiritual men” and the Pope as the antichrist. A synthesis of conventional Franciscan ideas and Joachimism that was like Catharism—only different.
Now the Catholic Church came to realize that burning heretics was perhaps not the best strategy, especially when the heretic wasn’t directly condemning the Catholic Church, but was simply searching for his or her own spirituality. So it developed a sensible “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em” approach. By the middle of the 15th century (right when the first tarot decks came out) the Church had transformed the popular laic Franciscan Tertiaries into Confraternities. These were squeaky clean and totally legal “independent religious fraternities (Terpstra,1995). They administered community charity (Pullen, 1971), commissioned art (Schiferl,1991), organized processions and religious dramas on Holy Days (Wisch and Ahl, 2000), and cared for abandoned children (Terpstra, 2000a). But beyond the charitable and ritual activities, they also supported a contemplative, individualistic spirituality for their members (Henderson, 1990).”* These institutions were very popular in northern Italy and their power and influence is well documented. By the year 1400 Florence had 52 confraternities. They were nexus points where the intelligensia, aritsans, and tradesmen met on equal footing and exchanged ideas with no intervention from the Catholic Church. Some even exist to this day. A confraternity runs Florence’s ambulance service.*
It was the Confraternities of northern Italy, according to O’Neill, that produced the first tarot decks. Everything was in place. The brains, the artists, and the know-how. They borrowed heavily from the Apocalyptic art (see the examples in this post) that had already captured the imagination of Europe.*
And so, if we believe Robert O’Neill, the tarot wasn’t invented by Gypsies, or some secret mystical sect, or even the Egyptians. It wasn’t a direct product of Jewish mysticism either. It was developed by progressive Catholics who used the existing Christian Apocalyptic art. And it was made possible by the most brilliant institution the Catholic Church ever developed—the Confraternity.
And I never would have discovered any of this if I hadn’t heard The Song of the Nightingale in the library.
*Catharism and The Tarot”, by Robert V. O’Neill
This weekend my husband and I are headed out to the Coast Range for a Journey to the Sun, a neoshamanic pathworking by Lupa, a shaman who works with the animal powers.
I am looking forward to spending time with friends; welcoming The Sun in his greatest glory and becoming even more in touch with my animal guides. These spirits are a great help and blessing to me in my everyday work as a massage therapist, offering suggestions and their own marvelous healing energy.
If you want to make even the most seasoned writer tremble whisper the words “query letter” in his ear. The dreaded query letter is the inescapable bane of every writer’s existence—at least every writer that is looking for an agent. There are blogs with ominous names like Query Shark whose sole purpose is to help writers navigate these dangerous waters. Not only is the required format rigidly precise, it is also subject to change at a moment’s notice. Author Sean M. Chandler comments that he knows several agents who won’t read a query letter if the writer’s contact information appears at the start of the query. According to some agents, it’s now supposed to appear at the end of the letter below the closing. I was also told several years ago that in a pitch or query the writer should always reveal how the story ends. Now we’re supposed to keep the agent guessing. The list of conflicting information goes on and on, but the one thing that everyone seems to agree about is that most agents don’t want to read my query letter. They will look for any excuse—a single spelling error, improperly positioned contact information, etc.—to stop reading and delete it. So the letter must be perfect.
Figuring out the format may be difficult, but the hands down most painful part of writing a query letter is condensing a book that took years to write into 300 words or less and making it sound irresistible. I’ve written nearly 100 queries for FORGING THE BLADE over the past four years. Some are painful to reread and some are pretty good, but I think I’ve just written my best query ever—with a little help from my computer.
A few weeks ago I wrote a really good query letter and read it to my kids (who are in their 20’s and 30’s). I distilled their comments and suggestions down to their practical essence, rewrote it, and read it to them again.
“Even better,” they said.
Fine. I hit save (I’m an avid saver) and filed it.
I always wait a few days to a few weeks to review my work. It gives my unconscious awhile to chew on it and lets me see it with fresh eyes and ideas. So a few days later I sat down to reread and revise it. And it was gone.
Horrors. My beautiful query letter was lost in cyberspace.
I checked everywhere. I did key word and first sentence searches. I checked the recycle bin. Nothing. I waited a day and checked again. I even asked my husband to look. He couldn’t find it either.
So I wrote another one. I could remember some of the lost one, so it only took me about forty-five minutes. This one was even better.
The next day when I tried to pull the new letter up it was gone too. But the lost letter was there! No kidding, it was there—right where it was supposed to be.
So I rewrote the lost letter with the improvements I could remember from the second one and came up with an even better letter.
The next day both letters appeared. It’s true, I swear it’s true. I compared the two and came up with an even better letter and the realization that my computer had taught me a great editing technique for short pieces of writing. Write your first draft, wait a few days, then write it again without looking at the first draft. It will probably be a better version. Go back to the first draft and edit it without looking at the second draft. Wait a day or so then compare both drafts and revise further.
When I told this story to a friend he said, “Your computer loves you.”
I thought about that for a moment and decided he was right, it must. After all, it gets my undivided attention much more often than anyone else, even my husband.
Thank you, computer.
Resh is the Hebrew letter that corresponds to The Sun. It means head, chief, total, and first. These are all things that we associate with The Sun. But resh also means grieved, poor, poverty, afraid, and last. These are not bright, strong sun words, What are they doing here? The quick and easy answer is that the Hebrew letters have many other uses besides tarot correspondence and we shouldn’t expect perfect matches all the time. However, resh is the only Hebrew letter that has such strong dual meanings, and I think this is a clue. The Sun is all about unifying dualities into a
functional, integrated whole (see The Sun I). Like, what is between the first thing and the last thing? Everything, that’s what.
Even the symbol of the Sun suggests wholeness and unity. When I was growing up, whenever my expectations were too high my mother would accuse me of “wanting the world with a fence around it.” That image always comes to mind when I see this glyph. 
When we have truly achieved the union of opposites within our psyches, having it all and desiring nothing (the world with a fence around it) is a possibility.
In a reading, The Sun is a true blessing. It’s most simple, all purpose meaning is Victory, or the resolution of opposing forces. But it can also mean clarity and wisdom. Things that seemed incomprehensible, mysterious, or hidden are now clear as day. Even if it appears in the past, it means that you now have the confidence and experience to be successful in the present and future.
When The Sun appears with The Lovers in a reading there are at least two possible meanings. If cups appear with these two major arcana keys, especially the ace or two, it clearly indicates success in love, a passionate and joyous relationship. If there are swords present, especially the ace or two it means an excellent choice, decision, or plan that will lead to success.
When The Sun appears with The Chariot, it means complete victory or mastery. Everything is really going your way.
Pentacles and The Sun signify material wealth or radiant health.
When the Sun appears with The High Priestess or The Moon it means understanding of things hidden, an intense psychic and/or emotional breakthrough that will change the querent’s life for the better.
There is nothing ambivalent about this card. It is awesome good. Even when it’s reversed it’s still good. Just not as good. Even when there are negative cards present, The Sun shines its light on them and makes them comprehensible and no longer so difficult.
In the hero’s journey, The Sun is the card of the hero. It is also the point at which the quest is achieved. In The Writer’s Journey, Christopher Vogler refers to this as “seizing the sword.”
In The Wizard of Oz this happens when Dorothy takes the Wicked Witch of the West’s broomstick, her ticket back home.
In the movie Avatar, the Sun moment happens when the planet Pandora defends herself against her extraterrestrial rapists by mobilizing her wildlife to aid the hard pressed Na’vi and defeat Colonel Quaritch’s forces.
The Sun moment can also be a personal achievement. In the movie A Dangerous Method, psychologist Sabina Spielrein is unable to achieve her goal of reconciling Carl Jung, her lover and psychoanalyst, and Sigmund Freud, her mentor, but she is able to accomplish the more important task of reconciliation of the conflict within herself.
Often the Sun moment of the hero’s journey involves not only the hero’s attainment of the object of the quest, but also the awakening within the hero of an essential power or talent. In the movie Star Wars this happens when Luke and his fellow pilots are attacking the Death Star. In the midst of a crushing battle, Obi-wan-kenobi reminds him to “Use the force, Luke,” and our hero at last slips into the Satori-like state necessary to qualify as a Jedi Knight. Using his hard won enlightenment he is able to destroy the Death Star and save the day.
The Sun is the entire raison d’être for the hero’s journey.
It is fulfillment, completion.
Sorry this is so late. I think the sun has addled my poor northwestern brain.
This year Craig and I ventured into the Columbia Gorge with a few friends to celebrate The May. We toasted summer in with libations of wine and a lovely lunch, but we were also there to stalk the wild and wonderful Lewisia rediviva.
And we did indeed find it. More abundant than we’d ever seen it before.
I love this flower because it is so exquisitely beautiful and so ephemeral and so impossible. It blooms out of the basalt bones of the gorge, opens its pink petals to the sun for a few short days, and disappears. Amazing.
After the destruction of The Tower the hero, if he perseveres, will always find The Star, the bright spot in the nighttime that gives him hope, inspiration and the courage to travel the realms of The Moon and learn her secrets. Then and only then can he understand the true nature of reality. It becomes plain as day.
The Sun reveals all. Unlike The Moon key, he shows not just a profile, but his full face. He still casts shadows, but unlike moon shadows that conceal, frighten, and mystify, sun shadows add dimension and interest. Sunlight shows everything in its true form. All mysteries are revealed in its warm, nourishing light.
The Sun is everything to us. We are truly solar powered beings. His dazzling rays power the earth, bringing us food, warmth, weather, and life itself. His overwhelming presence attracts us and keeps us on our cyclic path.
Sunlight also nourishes our spirits. As the days grow longer and warmer our souls blossom with joy and renewed vigor. Without The Sun Mother Earth would be a barren rock tumbling through a black void.
In the Rider-Waite-Smith deck The Sun shines on a small child riding with easy balance on the back of a white horse. According to the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad (I, 1), a white horse is a symbol of the cosmos. He/she carries the red banner of vital life force. This is Carl Jung’s Eternal Child, the part of us that existed before we forgot our spiritual natures, bought into the myth of the physical world, and were indoctrinated into the mores of human society; the part of us that plays joyfully throughout the infinity of the cosmos. Or, as the Zen koan says, our original face. The face that existed before our mothers and fathers were born.
Most other decks depict the sun shining on two children, usually a boy and a girl, holding hands or embracing. This is another way of depicting the Eternal Child. It reminds us that to acquire the perfect harmony and joy of this archetype we must balance and reconcile our yin and yang, masculine and feminine, animus and anima, body and soul, conscious and unconscious.*
We have seen this triad of a central figure and two opposing figures over and over again in the major arcana.
But notice that the two opposites are always pictured as separate. In The Sun key the two children embrace or hold hands, the opposing/opposite forces are at last united into a functional, integrated whole*
This new and complete entity is fragile. The key implies this by showing a protective wall between the two entwined children and the four sunflowers representing the four elements of fire, water, earth and air or the four kingdoms of animal, vegetable, mineral, and human. The wall creates a temnos or sacred space that protects and defines this ephemeral being.
The Sun is all about spiritual and physical power and well being which can only be brought about by the integration and the resolution of opposites.
*Jung and Tarot, An Archetypal Journey, Sallie Nichols