Spring is bursting out in Portland. The flowers are amazing this year. We have a huge, century-old Gravenstein apple tree in our back yard that usually puts out a few blossoms every year just to remind us that it really is an apple tree. This year it was covered in pinkish white froth and smelled divine. Chalice Well Lodge and Maypole Red Well Pool at Chalice Well Gardens.Flowers always remind me of Beltane 2007, which I spent in Glastonbury, England at Chalice Well Gardens. We stayed at the Chalice Well guesthouse, so I was in the gardens as much as possible, drinking the healing waters, meditating, and admiring the flowers. The Gardens have an immense presence and vitality composed of the combined spirits of its plants, insects, spiders, fungi, and bacteria. It’s almost palpable.
One morning as I was meditating and playing in the powerful energy lines that pass through the Garden, I heard aChalice Well faint hum. I opened my eyes and saw a bee, hovering so close to my face that my eyes almost crossed. She was smaller and much less fuzzy than a honeybee, and her flight was quick and purposeful. She would hang perfectly still, moving nothing but her wings and then she would dart down the path. A second later she would be back in front of my nose. She did this several times, reminding me of Lassie doing her “Timmy’s in the well, come quick!” routine. Obviously the garden wanted me to go somewhere, and it had sent the perfect guide.
Iris and columbine in Chalice Well Gardens. Their season is a bit ahead of ours.The bee’s trips down the path and back were getting quicker and her hum was edgier. If she’d had a foot, she would have been tapping it impatiently. OK, fine. I got up and started walking down the path after the bee. She led me down to the main sidewalk and turned right. We arrived at the restrooms.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, barely managing to keep from giggling hysterically.
The bee flew toward the entrance and then back to me, in a most insistent manner. I realized that I’d been drinking well water all morning and I really did have to pee. How did she know? And why did she care? When I came out of the restroom, my guide was waiting for me.
“OK, now what?”
The bee flew off, keeping to the sidewalk, and I followed. Moments later we arrived at the gift shop.
“What do they pay you to do this?” I asked my tour guide. I was laughing so hard I was almost doubled over. Madam Bee was not amused. She darted almost frantically toward the door and back to me several times without stopping.
Maybe there was something in there that I needed. I knew there were several things in there that I wanted. Another look around wouldn’t hurt. I went in and my friend flew away. I could almost hear the sigh of relief. Her job was done.
As I crossed the threshold I let my mind go blank and just started walking. I arrived at the book section. No surprises here. If there’s a book section, I will head for it. I was standing in front of several books on gemstones. The Crystal Bible by Judy Hall was closest to my hand so I decided to do a little bibliomancy. I closed my eyes and opened the book. When I opened them and saw the picture of the calcite crystal, something in side me said “Yes, this is what you need.” The stuff it was supposed to heal—back pain, joint pain, weakness, low energy, fear, worry, toxicity, kidney issues—sounded like a list of my problems. It’s also a stone of wisdom, intuition, protection, and peace. It comes in lots of colors and I was “told” to get them all. Calcite
Chalk and marl underlay much of southern England. Both are made of calcite (calcium carbonate). Most geologists believe that both Chalice Well and the nearby White Spring are fed by local groundwater. And so it is no surprise that the White Spring waters contain high levels of calcium, a major component of our bones. But why Chalice Well contains so little calcium and so much iron makes interesting speculation.*
The Chalice Well gift shop didn’t have calcite, but I found one in Avebury that did. I bought all the colors they had. They’ve been on my altar ever since, arranged in a vertical line. The orange/red crystal corresponds to my base chakra, yellow to my power chakra, green to my heart chakra, blue to my throat chakra, and a clear crystal to my crown chakra. Their stabilizing, strengthening energy fuels my morning meditation and heals my body. My low back is healthy again, and I have become much braver.
The Garden gave me two priceless gifts. It gave me a tool that would help me to help myself. But it also gave me the privilege of intimately experiencing the truth that Mother Nature is alive and cares for each and every one of us. If we just pay attention and follow her advice, she will heal us.
That’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. If you don’t believe me, go to Chalice Well and ask the bees. They’ll confirm every word. Drinking Fountain, Chalice Well Gardens
*”Energy Secrets of Glastonbury Tor”, Nicholas Mann, (Green Magic, 2004)
Ayin, pictographAyin, or eye, is the Hebrew letter attributed to The Devil. Our eyes flood our mind with images and color and we rely on them more than any of our other senses. For this reason the eye serves as a symbolic shorthand for all of our senses. The implication is that this key is about being limited to the physical realm, the world that we can see, hear, taste, smell, and touch.
The Talmud (Shabbat 104a) describes the letter Ayin as having two eyes. The good eye looks toward the preceding letter, Samech (support, Temperance) and manifests benevolence and charity. Remember that Hebrew is written right to left. The bad eye looks toward the next letter, Pey (mouth) and manifests greed and envy, which will eventually lead to destruction (The Tower). The Devil does everything he can to convince us to look toward The Tower, because this way limits us to physical reality and blinds us to the comfort and power of the divine that is constantly with us.
Capricorn is the astrological sign attributed to The Devil. It is the sign of the sea goat, a strange looking animal with the head and body of a goat and the tail of a fish. The constellation of Capricorn has been called The Sea Goat since the Bronze Age, so Capricorn’s beast is the sea goat. No one really knows what a sea goat is, but this doesn’t keep people from speculating. At least the sure-footed, mountain climbing goat part is appropriate to both The Devil and Capricorn natives, who are practical, grounded (it’s an earth sign), and goal oriented. They are masters of politics and the systems of the material world. Saturn, the planet of boundaries, limitations and lessons rules Capricorn.
When The Devil comes up in a reading it often means that the querent is bogged down in practical problems and things are looking bleak. But this key reminds us that our belief in our misfortunes is The Devil’s illusion. Money may be scarce, or we may be killing ourselves with too much work, or we may have just been diagnosed with cancer, but if we are able to look past the immediate problem and tap into the powerful, invisible forces at work in the Universe, a miracle happens. It may be as simple as realizing that things aren’t as bad as we thought, or as profound as a cancer cure, but it will happen. What we see is not all there is. With faith, amazing things are possible. When we loose faith, The Devil has us in his clutches.
Depending on its placement and the cards around it The Devil can mean solving problems with logic and practicality. But it can also In his Thoth deck, Aleister Crowley emphasizes the sensual, earthy nature of The Devil and can't resist pointing out that sexual ecstasy is one pathway to the divine. mean fear, ignorance, greed, lust, depression, unrealistic boundaries and limitations, the tendency to take things at face value, and becoming a slave to your desires. When The Devil is reversed, it usually intensifies the above meanings.
Occasionally it becomes obvious that the querent himself is the devil, binding someone else to the material world and/or keeping her from progressing spiritually or emotionally. He may be doing this out of greed, jealousy, or fear of abandonment.
Now that we have some understanding of what The Devil is, the million dollar question remains: Does he really exist?
We certainly speak of him as if he does, which, in a sense, makes him real. But there is no solid evidence for his existence. I haven’t decided whether or not I believe that there is an entity of pure evil stalking through the universe and corrupting all that is good and worthwhile. Some days I’m am quite ready to believe he’s out there. But when the sun shines and the flowers bloom and people are smiling, I’m sure he was just a figment of my fevered imagination.
Psychologically, The Devil exists in all of us. He is our Shadow, the part of us that questions authority, wonders whether the status quo is really the only quo there is, wants to play on a beautiful day instead of work, and would love to smack that self righteous idiot in the face with a pie. It is also the part of us that can’t understand why it’s not OK to kill the bastard in the car in front of us who just cut us off.
As The Shadow, The Devil lurks in every archetype in The Hero’s journey. He is the part of the Hero that has fears and doubts about the journey—some of which are quite valid. The part that has desires for things she knows will harm her or keep her from succeeding in her quest. This is the same Devil we battle every day of our lives and we have sympathy for her as she struggles against him.
The Devil really shines in the antagonist. Like all of us, the villain has a shadow, but he becomes a villain when his shadow side takes total control. The Wicked Witch of the West’s shadow wanted the ruby slippers and all the powers that they would give her. A normal desire. After all, they belonged to her sister. But when she allowed her shadow side to take over and set fire to the Scarecrow, etc., etc, she became a most excellent villain.
But very few fictional characters can actually be described as The Devil. The Devil appears as himself in many works of fiction–The legend of Faust comes to mind, but that’s different. The following two villians are the only ones I can think of who truly approach Satanic. Can you think of others? Emperor Palpatine
The Emperor in Star Wars could actually be The Devil. Like The Devil, he has unimaginable power and is trying conquer the entire Universe. Through deception and half-truths he turns young Anakin Skywalker to the dark side and so gains total control over him.
There are two very nasty villains in The Lord of the Rings trilogy, but again, they are powerful men who have given in to their shadows. The Devil is the Ring itself. The Dark Lord Sauron made it to dominate the other rings of power. Sauron loses it and years later a river dwelling hobbit finds it. His friend, Smeagol, is overcome with desire for the ring and strangles him to get it. The hobbits banish him and the ring turns Smeagol into Gollum, a vile creature of the dark. He loses his “precious” and Bilbo Baggins finds it. The Trilogy begins when Bilbo realizes that the ring is wearing on him and it’s time to give it to his nephew, Frodo. Gandalf convinces Frodo the take the Ring out of the shire and Frodo begins his journey, pursued by Sauron’s Ringwraiths and fighting against the power of the Ring as it worms its way into his soul. He knows that if it gains power over him, both he and Middle Earth will be lost. During the journey the corrupting effects of the Ring constantly cause tension and strife. Frodo learns that he must destroy the ring by throwing it into the Cracks of Doom where it was forged, but when he finally gets there, theGollum Ring has gained control and he is unable to destroy it. But Gollum, who has been secretly following him, appears, bites off Frodo’s finger, nabs the ring, and falls into the Cracks of Doom.
It is the Ring that holds the power and controls the actions of every character in the story, and like The Devil of Monotheism, it is finally sent down to fiery Hell.
The Devil is a necessity in fiction. Without him in the background pulling strings and pushing buttons, and causing troubles, there would be no hero’s journeys to write about.
The Devil squats in darkness on a half cube. Two chains lead from a ring in the half cube to loop around the necks of a man and a woman. This is the nightmare version of The Lovers. To make sure we don’t miss the connection, nearly all modern decks make The Lovers key 6 and The Devil key 15 (1+5=6).
A quick review of The Lovers card reminds us that it is about how to make wise choices. The man, or conscious mind, opens himself to, or is in communion with, the woman, or subconscious mind, who is looking up and communicating with the Angel Raphael. In other words, we can make much better decisions if we are in touch with the universal consciousness, or higher beings, or the divine, or whatever we choose to call it. This is why, when faced with a problem, a wise person will not only look at it logically, but also “pray on it”, or “sleep on it”, or wait for a sign, or a hunch, or a feeling.
Now the Devil is “the prince of this world.” (John 12:31, 14:30) He is master of the material, but has no power in the spiritual realms. That is why he’s only sitting on half of the cube of the universe. The inverted pentagram on his forehead suggests that his spirit is focused on the earthly realms, and his open hand suggests that nothing is hidden, what we see is all that there is. With his left hand he inverts the torch of enlightenment. Satan’s job is to keep us bound to his half of the cube and unaware of the other half. The man and woman in key 15 have horns and tails. The grapes of spiritual ecstasy and the flame of spiritual passion are on the tips of their tails, as far from their heads and hearts as it’s possible to get. It is obvious that, like their master behind them, they are bound to the material world. But unlike their master, their chains are easy to remove. However, it doesn’t look hopeful. Look at the man’s pose. He’s trying to reason with the woman, or subconscious. And the woman is looking blankly ahead, because the subconscious does not respond to logic. I can almost her him saying, “Now dear, just think about it, how could magic possibly work? How could prayers have any affect? How could god or even angels exist? You can’t see them, or hear them, and the times they do appear to work are just coincidences. You know, like that thing about monkeys and typewriters and the complete works of Shakespeare.” And so they are incapable of “seeing” the monster behind them. Or maybe she knows it’s there but she can’t tell him because he isn’t listening. Charles Baudelaire once wrote that: “the devil’s best trick is to convince us he doesn’t exist.”
But don’t feel too superior to the bestial man and woman. We are also creatures of The Devil’s realm and we are not anxious to leave. This world may be full of tears and pain and heartache, but it is also bursting with natural beauty. We create marvelous works of art—painting, sculpture, music, and books—to entertain and enlighten. Food, drink, shelter, and sex–the very things we need to stay alive and propagate our species—are all sources of intense pleasure and pride. And besides, we know what this world is like, but we have only vague promises about “the other side.” It could be really good, or really bad, or just the end of everything. We wear those chains gladly, yes indeed we do. And as far as I’m concerned, why not? We are here until we die, why not try to enjoy it?
And this is exactly what the Devil would say. But, unlike me, he won’t tell you that we are all spiritual beings inhabiting a physical body, that we are indeed children of both “earth and starry heaven”* and require communion with the divine as much if not more than we require food and drink. The Devil knows that the best lie is a half-truth.
But it is difficult to be open to the divine with all the beauty, joys, cares, and worries of this world flooding our senses. Jesus said that “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God” (Mark 10:25). I would suggest that by Jesus’ standards, every middle class American is a “rich man”; and that by “the kingdom of God”, Jesus meant “a rich and nourishing spiritual life.” Money solves so many problems and makes life so much easier that it fools us into believing that we can have total control of our lives. We are so busy making money so that we can have control and lots of stuff and then enjoying all the ease and good stuff that we worked so hard to get that we have no time to be still and find that small, still place within in us that links us back to the cosmos and feeds our souls in a way that no physical food or pleasure can. Jesus and every other religious leader that I know of assures us that instead of accumulating possessions, our lives should be spent laying up “treasure in heaven.” CD cover art for The World, the Flesh, & the Devil, by Kult Ov Azazel
And even more problems develop when we decide we want more money, but the only way to get it is to cheat someone else out of his. Or when we think that we could make better use of a piece of land than the people who are presently living on it. Or when we decide that one shot of that designer drug was awesome and we want another and another and another until we can’t afford it anymore and we don’t care who we step on, just so we can get more. When we act on desires like these the Devil wins; not only because they inflict pain and misery, but also because each of these acts makes us deaf to the angel on The Lovers key and blinds us to the stuff that really matters—love, faith, hope, and the divine.
To be continued…
*Part of a beautiful Orphic Hymn which was found in tombs in Crete, Southern Italy and other places around the Mediterranean. The Hymn was finely inscribed in Greek on thin gold leaf, rolled up and placed in a metal cylinder that hung on a chain around the neck of the deceased.
Satan vanquished by St Michael, detail, Carlo Crivelli, 1476In the Middle Ages Satan falls yet again—from fallen angel to monster. He is usually red or black with fangs, bulging eyes, pointy tail, and claws, although he is occasionally pictured as a goat. The Catholic Church wanted to paint the most terrible portrait of the archfiend that they possibly could. Francisco Goya, 1746-1828, A Sabbat of Witches Contrary to popular opinion, this isn't the Devil. It's a drawing by Eliphas Levi (1800s) of Baphomet, the demon reportedly worshiped by the Knights Templar. The evidence for his existence was extracted under torture and none of the descriptions of him agreed.
But, according to Ronald Hutton,** the Devil wasn’t depicted as a man with goat horns and legs and cloven hooves until the late 1800s and early 1900s. This was a Christian reaction to the neoclassical movement, which occurred at this time and celebrated all things Greek. Wild and lusty Pan, spreader of unreasoning terror and more than a few thighs makes frequent appearances in the literature of that time. He, of course, fascinated the Victorians and Edwardians, and horrified most God-fearing Christians (or at least they said they were horrified). Our culture tends to attribute all the things we hate and fear to Satan.
The goat imagery is very appropriate because the Devil is a scapegoat. He is a construct that monotheists use to explain the presence of evil in a world created by a perfect God. Judaism, Christianity and Islam heap all of the sins and evils of the world upon Satan’s broad shoulders. They further teach that when the Second Coming occurs he will be thrown into a “lake of fire” (Revelation 20:7-15) or Jahannam (Islamic Hell) and with his fall, all sin and evil will be taken away from the world.
According to Wikepedia, the goat that the ancient rabbis charged with the sins of the tribe and cast out into the wilderness or off a cliff (depending on which source you read) was called azazel. The etymology of this word isn’t clear. It can mean “for entire removal”, it may be the name of the mountain where the goat was pitched to his doom, or it may be that the goat was for Azazel, a desert demon. Scholars find no mention of this god or demon anywhere before he appears in Leviticus 16, but he seems to be quite popular after that. (Wikipedia). In Hebrew texts, the Book of Enoch says “The whole earth has been corrupted through the works that were taught by Azazel: to him ascribe all sin.” Some Christian scholars have equated him with Satan, and although he doesn’t appear in the Qur’an, Islamic literature says that Azazil is another name for Iblis, the Islamic Satan.
Scapegoat, from !A Growing Teenager Diary!Judism, Christianity, and Islam have made Satan an effective and indispensable scapegoat.
So what, exactly were the sins that got him cast out of heaven and into the roll of evil corrupter of humanity? His basic sin is hubris, the same as that of the Greek heroes. But even here there is some disagreement. The Christians say he refused to bow down to God and the Muslims say he refused to bow down to Adam and Eve, God’s creation. In either case his pride got the better of him and he said, “Wait a minute. I’m big and important. Why should I do this?” He questioned authority. And when the authority you are questioning is a perfect God, you’ve backed yourself up to a logical and semantic cliff. The only way out is down. You can’t argue with God, or, in the words of Martin Luther, “Faith must trample underfoot all reason, sense, and understanding, and whatever it sees it must put out of sight, and wish to know nothing but the word of God.”
A part tongue-in-cheek and part dead serious article called “In Praise of the Devil” puts it this way:
“God, being the well-documented sadist that he is, no doubt wanted to keep Lucifer around so that he could punish him and try to get him back under his (God’s) power. Probably what really happened was that Lucifer came to hate God’s kingdom, his sadism, his demand for slavish conformity and obedience, his psychotic rage at any display of independent thinking and behavior. Lucifer realized that he could never fully think for himself and could certainly not act on his independent thinking so long as he was under God’s control. Therefore he left Heaven, that terrible spiritual-State ruled by the cosmic sadist Jehovah, and was accompanied by some of the angels who had had enough courage to question God’s authority and his value-perspective.
“Lucifer is the embodiment of reason, of intelligence, of critical thought. He stands against the dogma of God and all other dogmas. He stands for the exploration of new ideas and new perspectives in the pursuit of truth.”
Now, I’m all for logic and reason. They’ve brought us sewer systems, antibiotics, and the Internet. How could they be bad? But many of us have beliefs that comfort us in hard times and bring us joy in the good times. We can’t prove them, and they are totally illogical; but countless logical research studies show that those who have them are happier and healthier.
Logic and reason are solidly grounded in the material world. If you can’t see it, smell it, hear it, taste it, or measure it, it doesn’t exist. But the faithful of every religion and spiritual practice on earth “know” deep in their beings that this isn’t true. Physical reality is only a small, unimportant part of our world. The stuff that brings true joy and meaning to life is intangible —but, of course they can’t prove it. And it’s an easy truth to forget when the rent’s due and your low back is killing you. This is the lesson of The Devil key: When do you let go of “reality”? When do you stop balancing your check book, reading the news, and checking your blood pressure, and simply believe?
He is a construct of the monotheistic religions. When all you’ve got is one god and he’s perfect, how do you account for all evil that “lurks in the heart of man?”** You blame it on The Devil, of course. You make him the source of all evil, whose sole purpose is to corrupt god’s perfect creation (that would be us) through lies and deception. Problem solved.
The pagan religions that predate monotheism have lots of bad guys, but, unlike The Devil, they are not totally evil archenemies of the human race. They are often regarded as the black sheep of the family, but they are still a part of the family or pantheon of gods, They are tricksters, like Loki, Hermes, and Coyote—untrustworthy gods who delight in teaching humanity lessons through deception. Or wild ones, like Dionysus and Pan, who give the gift of divine ecstasy. Some, like Set, who killed his brother, Osiris, chopped him into 14 pieces and scattered him up and down the Nile, commit crimes out of greed, jealousy, or anger. They do horrible, nasty things, but they aren’t opposed to all the other gods, and their ultimate purpose is not the destruction of humanity. They are the movers and shakers who rejoice in overthrowing the status quo.
In Judaism, which had its beginnings around 2000-1500 BCE, The Devil is called Satan or ha-satan, which translates from Hebrew as “adversary” or “someone who brings up the other side of the argument”—similar to the pagan trickster gods. His only appearances in the Old Testament are in I Chronicles and in the Book of Job, which were written more than a thousand years BCE. (see reference) In the story of Job, God points out his servant, Job, to Satan as a righteous man. Satan replies that Job is only righteous because God has blessed him with prosperity, but if everything were taken away from him he would curse God’s name. God rises to the bait and gives Satan permission to strip Job of his family, his wealth, and his health. Of course, Job remains true to God or they wouldn’t have put it in the Bible, but the thing to note here is that God and Satan are on cordial speaking terms and Satan doesn’t need a “devil’s advocate,” since he is hanging out with God and able to raise his own uncomfortable questions. The Old Testament Satan doesn’t have horns and a tail or even cloven hooves. And he isn’t evil. And even though there is a Jewish underworld called Sheol, a place of darkness, cut off from God, Satan isn’t in charge of it.
Over a thousand years later, the Christian New Testament paints Satan in far darker colors and begins to sketch the image we have of him today. He is the tempter, who came to Jesus in the wilderness and tested his strength of character and faith (Mathew 4:1). And unlike the Old Testament Satan, he did this presumably without God’s permission. According to Wikipedia, The Book of Revelation (12:9, 20:2), is the first record of anyone connecting Adam and Eve’s serpent and their subsequent fall with the devil. The serpent in Genesis is simply described as a “more subtle than any other wild creature” (Italics are mine) (Genesis 3:1, Revised Standard Version). The New Testament books also refer to him as “the dragon” and “the old serpent” (Revelation 12:9, 20:2), the deceiver (Revelation 12:7), “the prince of this world” (John 12:31, 14:30), “the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience” (Ephesians 2:2), and “the god of this world” (2 Corinthians 4:4). Revelation 13:11-18 and 19:19-21 refer to Satan as “the beast” and mention that he has horns. They also mention the number of the beast, which is 666, and the “mark of the beast” that he puts on his followers. “No one can buy or sell unless he has the mark.” This mark is not described, but many medieval witch hunters were sure they knew what it looked like. Revelation 20:7-15 states that in the “second death”, Satan and anyone whose “name was not found written in the book of life” will be “thrown into the lake of fire.”
Revelation 12:7 describes a war in heaven in which the archangel Michael casts Satan and his angels out of heaven. This same verse plainly states that they fall to earth—not hell (which I don’t think has been invented yet), or Hades, or the Underworld. The Book of Revelation is a prophecy to John of Patmos by Jesus Christ. Modern bible commentaries usually agree that The Book of Revelation describes events that will happen in the future, not the origin of Satan or The Devil. However, the intra-text of the Catechism of the Catholic Church (published in 2006) states in no uncertain terms that Satan and his angels were cast out of heaven before the fall of man. It also says that the serpent who tempted Adam and Eve was, indeed, Satan, who had vowed to corrupt God’s perfect creation. Satan being cast out of heaven by the Archangel Michael, by Gustave Dore
A group of Jewish writings called The Life of Adam and Eve, tells a similar story, with Satan being cast out of heaven before the fall and vowing to corrupt God’s newly created race. Scholars widely agree that the original Life of Adam and Eve was written around the first century CE, the same century that produced the Book of Revelation with its prophecy of war in heaven.
John Milton (1608–1674) recognized a great story when he heard one, and wrote his own version that pretty much agrees with the Catholic Church. In his greatest work, Paradise Lost, Satan and his angels rebel against God before the creation of man. God casts him and a third of the angels in heaven down into Tartarus (the other versions have him cast down to earth), creates the world and gives humanity dominion over it. Satan vows to corrupt God’s perfect creation, and everything goes pear-shaped—actually apple-shaped.
Over six hundred years after the birth of Christ, Muhammad revealed his vision of God in the Qur’an, which devout Muslims believe to be the true word of God. The Qur’an says that the Devil is a jinn, which are beings that God created out of “smokeless fire”. His name is Iblis, and he rebelled against God, who threw him out of paradise. He is the self avowed enemy of humanity and uses deception and lies to cause humans to disobey God. On Qiyamah, or Resurrection Day, Iblis will be thrown into Jahannam, or hell along with all of those he has deceived. The Qur’an describes the punishments in Jahannam as follows: the burning of skin, only to be replaced for reburning; garments of fire will be worn, and boiling water will scald the skin and internal organs; faces on fire; lips burnt off; backs on fire; roasting from side to side; faces dragged along fire; bound in yokes then dragged through boiling water and fire. Sound familiar? Jinn or genies were sometimes imprisoned in lamps and granted wishes to the lamp's owner.
It is interesting to note that in the Islamic faith, The Devil belongs to the race of jinn, who are sometimes pictured with horns. Jinn, angels, and humans, are the three sentient creations of Allah, which implies that the jinn were around way before the Qur’an was a gleam in Muhammad’s eye. They live in a parallel world to ours and cannot be seen by us, but are capable of movingAli and the Jinn, Golestan Palace, Tehran, Mid 16th Century CE, Wikimedia commons around our world with great speed. Like humans, they can be good, bad, or neutrally benevolent. Ancient inscriptions found in Northwestern Arabia seem to indicate that the jinn were worshiped, or at least given tribute. For instance, an inscription from Beth Fasi’el near Palmyra pays tribute to the “Jinnaye“, the “good and rewarding gods”.* The Qur’an, of course, rejects the worship of jinn; only Allah is to be worshiped.
The Devil is now an evil creature of fire and he has horns and I’m beginning to get a whiff of brimstone. But what about his goat legs, tail, and cloven hooves?
To be continued…
**from the introduction to The Shadow radio program
*Hoyland, R. G., Arabia and the Arabs: From the Bronze Age to the Coming of Islam.
Temperance, by Jerry Minor
A few months ago Clio, my six-year-old grandniece, let me read a story she was in the process of writing. It was about a group of owls, and about how the smallest owl decided to leave. I was hooked until I came to the part about the little owl flying away in the middle of a bright sunshiny day.
“Clio,” I said, “this is a great story, but owls don’t like to be out in the daytime. Why did the little owl leave at high noon?”
“I don’t need a reason,” she replied. “It’s fiction, and I can write anything I want.”
And she is absolutely correct. Everyone knows that fiction isn’t true.
However, if you want to write fiction that keeps your readers turning pages, you must convince them that perhaps it could be true. Or, at the very least, convince them to suspend their disbelief for the duration of the story. This won’t happen if they spot glaring errors in your work. How can you get them to believe in your story about owls if you have them flying around during the day without a reason? If your owls don’t behave the way your readers know owls are supposed to behave they will quickly lose interest. And even worse, they will lose confidence in you as a writer. If they do, by some chance, continue to read, they will be suspicious of everything you tell them.
Several years ago, when I was writing the first draft of Forging the Blade, I realized that I needed to learn something about making swords. Duh! In Chapter XIV, which is about the major arcana card, Temperance, a goddess (who bears a remarkable resemblance to Brigid) forges a magic sword for Molly, the main character. She uses Molly’s blood to bind her to the blade. As the sword is forged, Molly is also forged into a warrior. I figured that forging a blade would be a perfect metaphor for Temperance. This is a key chapter in the book, and to make it work, the reader must totally believe in the drama of a piece of steel and a teenage girl being forged into sentient, magical weapons.
The Internet couldn’t give me the information I needed to write a believable chapter. It is an amazing tool for gathering bits and pieces and finding out where to get more, but it couldn’t tell me what a forge smells like, or how a furnace sounds, or how it feels to hammer a piece of steel into shape. Coquille_River_in_Spring
And so, in June of 2007 I drove down the Oregon Coast Highway to Coquille, Oregon, home of Michael Bell, master swordsmith of Dragonfly Forge. He had agreed to let me watch him forge a katana, which is a Japanese sword and exactly the kind of weapon I wanted Molly to have. Chiisakatana, by Michael Bell
The Bell family home and Dragonfly Forge are tucked up in the hills between Bandon and Coquille, Oregon. My first morning there I sat at their kitchen table, drinking tea in front of a wood-burning stove and listening while Michael described the difference between iron and steel and the changes a blade goes through during its forging—in other words, a crash course on metallurgy. Michael is a slender, soft-spoken man, not at all what you think of when you think of a blacksmith. He was also very patient with all my questions.* Dragonfly Forge
After he was satisfied that I had the basics down, we headed out to the small wooden outbuilding which is Dragonfly Forge. There was nothing fancy about it—dirt floors and well-used, simple equipment—but it exuded a comfortable symmetry. Every tool had its place, and I quickly learned that as soon as you were finished using it, it went back in that place.
Michael admits with no shame whatsoever that he cheats. Traditional swordsmiths use charcoal-fired furnaces and they do the rough shaping of the blade with hammers that are nearly as heavy as sledge hammers. His furnace is gas fired and he uses a trip hammer. He also uses electric grinding wheels. The length of steel cable (top) will be forged into the "sunobe" (bottom)
Instead of folding and refolding the billet of steel before he starts shaping the blade, Michael starts with about a foot of steel cable. The cable is perfect, he says, because it’s made from the highest quality steel available; and, since it’s made of dozens of steel wires twisted into a spiral, he doesn’t have to do all the folding. I like the idea of using cable because the spiral is a potent symbol of life and living. As he shapes the length of cable into the sunobe, or rough sword shape, with the trip hammer the spirals of steel wire are forge welded together. If every weld is not perfect, the sword will be flawed and will probably break at the final quenching. It took him until late afternoon to finish the sunobe. Forge welding the cable with the trip hammer The cable is twisted twice to bring out the patterns on the finished blade Michael Bell with completed "sunobe" in Dragonfly Forge. Note trip hammer, furnace, and anvil.
The next day Michael did more shaping. First he cut and hammered out the point. Then he hammered in the three planes of the blade, "katana" cross sectioncalled the mune (2 form the ridge or top of the blade), the Shingogi-ji (2 form the sides of the blade) and the Ji (2 form the cutting edge). Steel is very hard. I know that’s like saying the Grand Canyon is very big, but I didn’t really appreciate how hard it is until I started banging on hot (translate: softened) steel with a three pound hammer. My first enthusiastic blow made a tiny, crescent shaped dent. The master swordsmith pointed out that it did that because I’d hit the steel with the edge of the hammer, not the flat pounding surface. Dents are a no-no. Forging those planes took Michael almost a full day of hammering. I was tired after about ten minutes. When he was finished, the blade looked like a dull, blurry version of a finished katana. He heated the whole blade up to yellow heat and let it cool slowly by the furnace. This relaxes the metal and makes it uniform throughout the entire length of the blade. Shaping the "sunobe"
The third day was for grinding and fine shaping. When he was satisfied that the blade was perfect, Michael applied the clay in a very specific pattern and let it dry thoroughly. When the sword is heated to yellow hot and quenched in water the clay slows down the cooling. The thicker the clay layer, the slower the cooling. The steel that cools slowly doesn’t develop the large martensite crystals that make the blade brittle enough to hold an edge. It is still strong, but more flexible. The lines of clay that are perpendicular to the cutting edge make stripes of softer steel that act like the discs between our vertebrae. This last step is what allows a katana to hold a strong, razor sharp edge, yet be flexible enough to withstand the strikes of another blade and the forces of cutting through armor, rifle barrels, and torsos. Grinding More grinding Close-up of the blade. Even without the final polish the patterning in the steel is already visible Applying clay
The final day was for drama. The quenching of a Japanese blade does three things:
It finds the flaws. If the forge welding isn’t perfect or if the architecture of the blade isn’t quite right the temperature extremes will cause the blade to shatter or crack or warp.
It transforms the plain, brittle steel of the blade into a miracle blend of steels so strong and flexible that it can cut through iron or nearly anything else you throw at it.
It accentuates the sweet arc that makes Japanese swords look like they’re ready to float out of your hands.
It ensouls the blade and it becomes some sort of living entity. Really. Ask any Japanese swordsmith.
Michael’s son, who is also a swordsmith, came out to watch. We fired up the furnace, which soon began to roar in an earnest, breathy sort of way. When it was up to heat we closed the shutters on the forge windows and Michael began to pass the blade rhythmically through the hottest part of the flames, heating it evenly throughout its entire length. The darkened forge reached sauna temperatures as we watched, mesmerized, as the blade glowed cherry red, then orange, then yellow. When he was satisfied with the color, Michael pulled his creation from the flames and thrust it into a trough of cold river-water, which hissed explosively. The forge went silent, and we stood in awe as the master swordsmith lifted a perfect blade from the water and another being joined us in the forge. The katana had survived its ordeal of fire, brutal blows, and water, becoming strong and beautiful and alive.
This was an even better analogy to the Temperance key than I had imagined. As far as I’m concerned, truth wins out over fiction every time. As storytellers, we should use it whenever possible. The rest of the time we can only strive for a good imitation.
*Any errors or omissions are mine alone. Michael Bell, of course, knows exactly how to forge a katana.
The Wheel of the Year, by Alison Skelton, 2011
February is a most under-appreciated month. It’s bleak, bitter, and host to some of the worst weather of winter. It doesn’t even get its full monthly measure of days. This year is a leap year, so it has 29 days instead of its usual 28. Its name comes from the Latin, februa, which are purifications and expiatory rites. The February calendar is full of them.
But Alison Skelton, a witch/shaman/artist/writer/friend from Victoria, BC, does have some nice things to say about February, and I thought I’d share them with you.
“Hooray for February! I’m sure that is not a common sentiment, particularly for those who are still ensconced in snow and ice. As a Wiccan and a Shamanic practitioner I cannot help but be aware of how our human psyche is so very connected with what is experienced in nature. Nature is our teacher, our healer and our spiritual sustenance. So take heart, for the spirit of Februa is with us, and brings love, increasing light and the promise of rebirth as the quickening of the year is upon us.
“February is the perfect time of year to launch a new enterprise. The promise of renewed life and love are all around us, and our faith in our own creative power is bolstered as new ideas begin to take form. In our northern hemisphere the light is now clearly returning, and in my corner of the world snowdrops are up, and the crocus soon will follow.
“We invite initiatory and expansive energy into our lives at this time of year to be blessed by the returning light, which aids us in the the birthing of new projects and in the choosing of the seeds – both actual and metaphorical – to be planted in the Spring. Now is a great time to reveal the plans that have been incubating during the dark days of winter’s hibernation.
“Taking a single flame out into the darkness to illuminate that which is hidden is wonderful symbolic ritual gesture, and feeds our need for enlightenment of our interior darkness or shadow self. Introspection and meditation, the healing arts, and shadow play are all associated with this special time of year. Unattributed
“Soon the ides of February will be upon us, once celebrated by the Roman pagans as Lupercalia, which is a festival celebrating Faunus or Pan, both deities associated with passionate love and the wild places within us. At Lupercalia a sort of love lottery would take place. Young men would chose their partners for erotic games by drawing small pieces of paper called “billets” inscribed with the names of young women.
“These billets have eventually become the present day Valentines cards! Although the Christian church tried to wipe out the customs of Lupercalia by substituting short sermons and Saints names on the billets, it was, thankfully, to no avail.
“February is also sacred to Juno Februata, goddess of the “fever” of love. She was replaced by the church with St. Valentine who is derived from Vali a Norse archer god. “Valentine eventually became a patron of lovers despite all efforts to discourage the association and accompanied festivities. In the Middle Ages love potions, spells and charms were dedicated to St. Valentine, since he was in effect a thinly veiled and Christianized version of Eros, Cupid, or Pan.
“Fornicalia is yet another February festival, celebrating bread, ovens, and the associated deities and spirits which help small things to grow. Perhaps this is where we get the phrase “Bun in the oven”?
“Whichever way you slice it, February is a great time for stoking the flames of love and celebrating our passion, as well as initiating new projects and celebrating the spreading of the light of consciousness. Bright blessings to all, and may Juno Februata grace us all with her her divine fever.”
So light those candles, take lots of hot baths, throw a pot-roast in the oven, snuggle up with your sweetie, and have a wonderful February. Phoenix, unattributed
February 1st or 2nd , depending on who you talk to, is the Festival of Imbolc, or first light. This is the time of year when we begin to notice that yes, indeed, the days are getting longer. Bulbs are beginning to push up green spikes, and the snowdrops are in full bloom. It is a time of anticipation, new beginnings, and inspiration.
By Karen BagnardImbolc probably derives from the Old Irish i mbolg “in the belly”, which refers to the fact that this is the start of lambing time in Ireland and the rest of Europe. It is also a perfect metaphor for the season. The year is pregnant with the coming of the sun, which brings new growth. Brigid, by Wendy Andrew
At this festival pagans honor Brigid: goddess of water and fire, wells and forges, healing and inspiration, smith craft and childbirth. from the Builders of the Adytum deck
I see the angel on the Temperance tarot card as a perfect representation of Brigid. He/she stands between two opposing forces and works to reconcile them into a new and beautiful creation. In some decks the angel is holding fire and water. Blacksmiths use the opposing forces of fire and water to shape and temper steel. A baby is formed by the joining of a man and a woman, and art is inspired and created by the fusion of ideas.
Whenever I read a story about werewolves, the lion on the Strength card roars in my head like the start of an old MGM movie. A tale about werewolves is always about the eternal struggle between our animal desires, instincts, and power and our logical, self-controlled, altruistic human side. At the end of the 2010 remake of the 1941 movie, The Wolf Man, the Wolf Man attacks his fiancée, forcing her to shoot him with a silver bullet. Her words, which end the movie, states the moral dilemma posed by Strength and the werewolf beautifully.
Lon Chaney, Jr. as The Wolf Man“It is said there is no sin in killing a beast
Only in killing a man
But where does one begin and the other end?”
In his latest book, The Last Werewolf, Glen Duncan’s line between man and beast is fairly clear and painfully raw. Jake is a werewolf from hell. A week before full moon the wulf, as he calls, it begins to mess with him. Phantom fangs and claws ripple out of his flesh and the urge to literally bite someone’s head off goads him constantly. At moonrise on full moon, he falls to the ground and writhes in agony as his joints pop and snap into new positions and he morphs into a fiend, part man, part wolf, with no mercy and an intense hunger that can only be satisfied by human flesh, especially the flesh of his loved ones. His every move is dogged by WOCOP (world organization for the control of occult phenomena) and vampires, who have discovered that something in a werewolf’s blood will make them light tolerant.
The were-animals in Charlaine Harris’s Sookie Stackhouse series (inspiration for HBO’s True Blood movies) are at the other end of the werewolf spectrum. They have it much easier. When they morph, it’s uncomfortable, but they get used to it, and are able to change into their animal whenever they want. And those animals aren’t hybrid monsters, they are beautiful wolves, tigers, etc. with human intelligence, blood lust, and short tempers. They usually stick to animals as prey unless some hapless human has aroused their ire. This means that they can still lead fairly normal lives. Harris’s separation of man and beast is a comfortable continuum.
Where a writer places his werewolf on this spectrum depends on what he’s trying to say and where he wants to go with his character. Jake and The Wolf Man have only a slight amount of control over their beast. Their creators are writing heart-stopping, brutal horror. They force their audience to struggle along with the monster as he tries valiantly but in vain to control the beast, and to gasp in wicked wonder when he gives in and revels in the pure joy of running through the woods under a full moon and sinking his fangs into the throat of his terrified prey. We have sympathy for him because we know how demanding our own beast can be. In the 1941 version, the dying Wolf Man fades into his human self and says to his killer, “Thanks for the bullet, it was the only way.”
But Harris gives her were-folk an option. They can control their beast. It’s difficult, but possible, and their struggles are the perfect metaphor for the Strength card. The good guys are in control of their beast and use it to help. Perfect heroes. The bad guys and also in control of their beasts, but they use them to harm. Perfect villains. And the weak struggle constantly to gain control over their beasts, give up, or just don’t care. The plight of the rest of humanity. Things always get interesting when the hero slips and uses his beast to harm or the villain slips and uses his beast to help. And the guilt and angst that happen when a character tries to control his beast but fails is much greater if he knows that he should be able to.
I’ve been studying werewolves because I’ve added one to my second book. It’s an occult murder mystery and I needed a character with the skills of a werewolf to help Molly find “who done it” and survive. My werewolf will probably be more like Sookie’s friends than Jake.
And, OK, I couldn’t resist. I wanted to write about a werewolf.
When Temperance appears in a reading, The querent is, was, or will be up to his ass in alligators and trying to remember to drain the swamp. If he doesn’t become gator chow first, the exercise will make him stronger, more flexible, and better able to cope with the next major glitch in his life. He has come to a point where he must combine, reconcile, or referee the opposing forces and people in his life. His wife and mother may be at each other’s throats. He may be dissatisfied with his job and trying to manifest a better one. He may be dealing with spending, eating, or other addictive disorders, or healing from a serious illness.
Temperance reminds us that patience, open mindedness, strength, good management of time and resources, willingness to try and try again, and lots of prayer and help from the divine are necessary in resolving life’s problems. If the card is upright, it indicates that the querent has enough of the above qualities to come out of his ordeal in fine shape, he might even make it look easy. But if the card is reversed, things get a bit more difficult because he doesn’t have the skills and/or temperament to succeed and must learn them on the fly as he is trying to fix the situation.
In the hero’s journey Temperance can be either an archetype or a stage in the journey. As an archetype it can be either the hero or an ally. The character is trapped between two other powerful characters or two elements in her life and is trying to bring them into balance or harmony.
Sabina Spielrein, in John Kerr’s book, A Most Dangerous Method: The Story of Jung, Freud, and Sabina Spielrein and the movie, A Dangerous Method, is a perfect Temperance figure. Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud started out as close friends and colleagues, but professional and personal differences turned these two giants of psychoanalysis into bitter enemies. As a patient and lover to Jung and colleague and confidante to Freud, Spielrein struggles to make peace between the two men. She fails, but the experience strengthens her professionally and emotionally and she becomes a respected Russian psychoanalyst. The more pushups scene in "An Officer and a Gentleman"
Temperance usually appears in the hero’s journey as the ordeal. This is the dark night of the soul where the hero undergoes the worst thing that could possibly happen to him, uses his special talents to survive death or worse, and comes away stronger, wiser, and better able to cope with a final and even worse ordeal. Zach Mayo’s ordeal in An Officer and a Gentleman is drill sergeant Foley, who launches a viscous campaign aimed at tormenting and humiliating Mayo into quitting the program. If he quits, he will lose his one chance to become an officer and a gentleman. He perseveres and the ordeal forces him to admit his dependence on others. This understanding makes him more cooperative and less selfish, two qualities he will need to achieve his goal of becoming an officer and a gentleman.
A quick interpretation of the Temperance card might be “What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger.”
The Chalice Well gift shop didn’t have calcite, but I found one in Avebury that did. I bought all the colors they had. They’ve been on my altar ever since, arranged in a vertical line. The orange/red crystal corresponds to my base chakra, yellow to my power chakra, green to my heart chakra, blue to my throat chakra, and a clear crystal to my crown chakra. Their stabilizing, strengthening energy fuels my morning meditation and heals my body. My low back is healthy again, and I have become much braver.
