Cards of Wisdom

Tarot cards have long been an interest of mine -- in fact, in some ways, I can say that my interest in the path of Inner Work began in part with my study of Crowley's famous Thoth Tarot deck back in the mid-1970s. Many years later I explored the Osho Zen Tarot deck, which while not based on a traditional Tarot structure, is nevertheless an effective tool for generating insight into one's hidden patterns or potentialities. A very good more alternative version is the deck that was created by my friend Cheryl Harnish, Destiny Cards. 

I have fond memories of my 'Tarot university years', back around 1980, when I would, on occasion, take my Thoth Tarot deck and grab a booth in the corner of a popular pub on Peel Street in Montreal, and proceed to give spontaneous readings (there was never a lack of 'customers', although no, I did not charge them anything -- then, at least :) ). The power of symbols lies in their ability to bring to awareness elements of the psyche that we are not normally aware of -- at least, in any sustained fashion. As Carl Jung once wrote,

Unfortunately there can be no doubt that man is, on the whole, less good than he imagines himself or wants to be. Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.  

An essential part of the 'path of awakening' is to become aware of our more unsavory elements, and in particular, those parts of us that get in the way of our greater unfolding. To claim that we want 'truth' is not such a big deal. Far more significant is to encounter our particular psychological resistances to that truth. And these forms of resistance can indeed be fierce. So much so, that they have the ability to throw us off the path of awakening altogether; or worse, to convince us, in so many subtle ways, that we are, in fact, waking up, when more likely, we are merely dreaming that we are awake.

Symbols are a language, and essentially, the most 'primitive' of languages. But this is also what makes them the most direct, because they have the ability to 'touch' us in ways that bypass the conventional conscious filters. The whole problem with the human condition can, in a sense, be boiled down to un-naturalness. In this connection, I'm not suggesting that our self-realization lies in some of 'return' to our primordial roots. Ken Wilber (for one) accurately identified such approaches as a type of 'romanticism', in which we erroneously assume that our awakening is based on merely recapturing what we have imagined that we have lost. Christ may have exhorted us to 'become as a child again', but he can't have meant that literally, as the ignorance of the child is not the same as the wisdom of the sage, even if resembling it in some superficial regards. 

No, we are not going backwards to the so-called bliss of Eden. We are (ideally) going forward, into a realization that both transcends and includes (as Wilber puts it). We are going beyond. But we cannot truly go beyond the limitations of our toxic self-image without first being willing to face the unresolved issues in our (mostly subconscious) minds. The Tibetan Buddhist master Chogyam Trungpa once said it well: 'Better not start on the spiritual path. But if you start, you had better finish.'

I always doubted what he meant by that (though I've nevertheless quoted his words often, because they are powerful, something like a vivid Zen koan). What I never quite understood was the idea of 'finishing the spiritual path'. How does one actually finish that? Has anyone ever truly finished that? 

I'm not sure. But what I am sure of, is that we must face our 'darker angels' -- the parts of our nature that are sequestered away in the realms of our mind that are typically without light. We need to bring light to the hidden. As Jung (him again) put it:

Projections change the world into the replica of one's own unknown face. 

Meeting our 'unknown face' is not the end of the journey, of course. In some ways, it is the beginning. But our inner journey toward truth has no foundation if we have not yet undone our projections -- by seeing, square on, what is so difficult to recognize within us.  

2012?

Last summer, by a series of fortunate last-minute happenings, I attended a musical concert with a good friend of mine, who was organizing Andrew Harvey's talk and workshop in our town at that time. After this concert we met up with Andrew and Karuna Erickson. Both were running a workshop and promoting their recently co-authored work Heart Yoga: The Sacred Marriage of Yoga and Mysticism. Harvey is something of a rarity, once described as a combination of ‘Oxford aesthete and Eastern mystic’. He is a mystic who is also a rigorous thinker (and very fine writer).

The four of us chatted at length in a local lounge after the concert, and in the course of speaking with Andrew I mentioned to him my upcoming book (to be published later this year), Rude Awakening. Andrew was interested in the subject matter (even offering to write a Foreword for it) , and relayed how he’d recently attended a 2012 conference, in which while giving his talk at said conference, he became quite animated while expressing trenchant criticisms of certain of the ditzier elements of New Age thought, and especially how it pertains to 2012 matters.  

I have, admittedly, been loath to look at writings dealing with the so-called ‘2012’ phenomena, which draws its star-power from alleged Mayan ‘end-time’ prophecies -- and in particular, from the interpretation of these prophecies. Whenever I have glanced in that direction, I've seen little of interest, beyond a worried pre-occupation with the future (sort of the inversion of the academic historian's fixation on the past). That said, if I'm to choose between past or future as a topic of interest, I incline toward the past, because at least it is grounded in something (facts, or at worst, persuasive probabilities). Future is an unknown, and thus inevitably is approached by inference and speculation -- i.e., imagination. The prime reason I seldom read fiction anymore (well, for the past two decades or so) is because I'm not terribly interested in perceiving reality via someone else's imagination. If I'm to do that, I'd prefer the medium of film or theatre, where at least there are other angles of creativity present. (In to that mix I don't include classics, or just really good literary stuff -- which admittedly, is a matter of perception based on one's predilections). 

That said, I’m pleased to report that I recently discovered two pieces of writing on the 2012 matter that I found intelligent and engaging. The first is Richard Grossinger’s 2013: Raising the Earth to the Next Vibration (deceptively subtitled). The book is only marginally about 2012, prophecies, impending catastrophes, New Age simplistic dualism, and the like. (Which is why it is good!). It is more like an extended blog—and very extended, being some 600 pages—in which Grossinger wanders widely and freely along the byways of associative thinking ultimately connected to his take on the development of human consciousness, and especially how it is playing out now in these times of wildly exponential change. Grossinger can write, and with originality of thought; he is perhaps in some ways Robert Anton Wilson’s successor (with a touch of Kerouac and Harold Bloom-for-the-fringes. And he has been at this for some time; just the other day I stumbled upon a copy of his Waiting For the Martian Express, published in 1988, in a used book store, which, I daresay, contained writing equally original and incisive). The other work in this vein that I enjoyed was Daniel Pinchbeck’s 2012: The Return of Quetzalcoatl. Pinchbeck is a generation younger than Grossinger, and it shows in his writing, which while equally original, presents a vision that is perhaps a tad less seasoned. He is, however, a bit less of a poet than Grossinger, and so his writing is somewhat more straightforwardly journalistic, something than may be handled with greater ease by those less inclined to a writing style that is both multilayered and ‘electrically elegant’ (as Andrew Harvey aptly describes Grossinger’s prose).

The main problem with the whole 2012 thing, as I see it—and as generally presented by writers other than the two just mentioned—is that in some ways it functions as an elaborate type of disinformation. Prophecies (and related matters) are seductive in general because they relieve us of the strain of having to sustain attention in present time. There is nothing harder in life than consistently maintaining present-time awareness (and its troublesome sidekick, responsibility). Especially as we age, accumulating dust and detritus (debts, failed relationships, accumulated misgivings, health issues—the general entropic sweep of human life) as we go. There is a reason why people, in general, grow fatter or more prone to alcohol usage as they move into middle age and beyond. The stress of dealing with the sheer musty banality of life shoves most in the direction of seeking quick relief from said stress.

For New Agers, stress about present time reality can be a discomforting thing to confess to, because after all, the whole idea of being ‘spiritual’ is to live with a radical orientation toward both clarity of thought and the present moment. So New Agers generally resort to more sophisticated distractions from the more unbearable facets of their present-time life. A good one is prophecy; and especially, prophecy that is based on impending global changes, preferably catastrophic.

For a person whose life is ‘working’, running on all cylinders, the idea of a looming catastrophe is unappealing. But for one who lives in such a way that they perceive themselves as marginalized, or recognize (however dimly) themselves to be unwilling to be responsible for certain facets of their life, a great global change is not such a bad idea. Who cares if all hell breaks loose if your own life is already a train wreck?

I am not, I should emphasize, a cheerleader of a lifestyle that rejects any sort of participation in the world. The path of the monk—in the true sense—is not for most. Primarily because most people have key lessons to be learned in areas relating to responsibility—and by that, I’m not referring to a conventional conformity within the parameters of ‘Man-made reality’, but rather, with the simple coming to terms with the reality of being alive in a physical body sharing a realm along with many other physical bodies.

In all probability, 2012 (or 2013) will pass as every other year has, regardless of what we humans conjure up at that time (or regardless of what humanly manufactured dystopia or, perchance, natural disaster  comes our way). It is true that we live in a highly interesting time, featuring a population and technology spike unlike any other seen before. Where it is all going is anyone’s guess, though I suspect that John Michael Greer, in his The Long Descent, has as clear a view as any. But for one aspiring to be awake, the lesson remains the same: find the balance between mind and world. And remember our highest purpose for being alive.