Full Circle

What I believe, and What I Know.

At the end of the day I find I have very much come full circle in my beliefs and I thought I might write about that today. In order to understand what a person believes I think you must first understand their formative experiences. I know this is Psyc 101, but it is also true. So please allow to share a few basic things about myself that have a baring on what follows.

I guess the first thing is that I was raised in a haunted house. Its simply true from the time I was 5 to the time I was 12 we lived at 149 Riverside in Buffalo, and the house harbored an unwanted tenant. My mom would refer to the spirit as Oscar, and down play it when he made a fuss. I think this was very clever of her because if she had allowed herself to be spooked by our tenant, then we too would have been spooked. So we lived with our tenant largely un-ruffled, for about seven years. Still Oscar let us know from time to time he was still around, and I thought to add a few Oscar stories inline, but they run to long. If your interested in a couple short ghost stories click here. Just the same the stories are not in an of themselves crucial to this thread. What is important is that I have never doubted the existence of the energetic world, and a legion of Nobel prize winning physicists, with Pen and Teller tossed in for comic relief could never convince me of the "Unreality" of that which I have seen with my own eyes.

I guess that's another thing that bares on this thread. In that I consider myself at the end of the day a radical empiricist . What I believe is rooted soundly in what I know, and what I know I have learned from the report of my own senses. So I would like to share with you a few things I dont believe in:

Instead I would advise you that I know these things do in fact work, or are in fact real do to the consistent report of my own senses, and that if you (the reader) should invest a reasonable amount of time in any of these things, the report of your own senses would convince you of their reality as well. You see this is not about belief.

Belief, is really one of the more unfortunate words in the English language, because anything that cannot be demonstrated by very specific scientific protocols, or modeled by mathematically according to a paradigm that which makes a set of assumptions that effectively excludes any extra dimensional reality impacting on our own is written off as belief, or as Carl Sagon used to say so contemptuously it belongs to the realm of Religion and Superstition I could, and will, spill a lot of ink on how we both as a nation, and as esotericists, have made a huge mistake in simply handing science the license to be the ultimate arbitrators of what is real, rather than engaging science in a discussion of Epistemology, but that is a large thread all by itself. ;)

.. Returning to this thread, After a three year conversation with she I refer to as "Innana" conducted most through the vehicle of Tarot Cards and Pendulum, it is simply deeply insufficient to refer to what I "GNO" to be true based my own sustained empirical experience as belief. She has time and again demonstrated that she knows things I could not possibly be aware of myself, but that are later confirmed in conversation with the Qs. That her knowledge is expressed symbolically, and that a certain amount of interpretation on my part is required to grasp her meaning does not invalidate the fact that she does in fact know what she is speaking to, I am time and again stunned by just how detailed and elegant her description of a given Qs present moment can be, so please allow me to link to one example.

I have no doubt at all about the reality of she whom I consider my guide. I freely admit the limits of that experience, and that their is so much more to know about Innana than I do know about Innana. To add real depth to my knowledge of my partner in this conversation is my greatest passion, but to deny her existence because she cannot be stuffed into a beaker, measured on a meter, or expected to perform for the skeptical like a trained seal is simply ludicrous.

Remember that not to long so ago Science simply knew:

Science is a wonderful thing, and one of its best qualities is that it is self correcting and in time idea's like those above are disproved. The scientific method a beautiful tool for Modeling and describing in stunning detail a certain bandwidth of the spectrum of reality that it can access. It does not however have access (Yet?) to all reality, and cannot model much of what we perceive as real. There is a great saying in Science, "A beautiful theory killed by an ugly fact." So Never let anyone convince you that your Ugly Fact is not real, merely because if conflicts with their beautiful theory, be a good bumble bee and just keep flying along.

Yes I can misperceive, yes that misperception can go on consistently for years. For the longest time I always misheard the "Flintstones" song, god knows how many times I heard that song as a kid, and always misheard the lyrics. But eventually I did read the actual lyrics, "Courtesy of Fred's two big feet." and corrected myself. At the end of the day it is the consistent report of our senses that defines our reality. So long as we keep ourselves firmly grounded in what actually can be observed in the world, we cannot go to far wrong.


The Beginnings of a Circle

So as I said yesterday, I have never been in doubt of the reality of the energetic world, but by the time I entered high school I was on my way to the first "Existential Crisis" of my life. I would not know what to call it until years later in collage.

However what I did know was this;
I had been raised Catholic, my mom who is now Pagan raised us in her family tradition I think largely out of respect for my Grandmother. Rose was fiercely Catholic, and her brother John was a priest. I must say however that the one time I attended church with my Grandma it was one of the most beautiful services I had ever seen. The small red brick church a block up from her house was truly a Home of God. The service was beautiful and dignified and the congregation devout. It was at the end of the day everything the Catholic faith has the potential to be. It could not be further from the mercantile display put on weekly at my own Parish church if it had been located on Mars.

So I guess that was the first thing, I knew if I was going to connect with Deity, I was not going to do it here. (My Church.) The second thing was what ever Catholic church I went too, I was going to weekly be assured that I was damned, and that is not a comforting thought. However as a 14 Year old boy, to be told that everything you wanted to do with May Casey was a Moral Sin was rather discouraging. Worse, it did not matter that I had no more chance of getting next to May than one of the Sheephead swimming in the Niagara river, just wanting the unobtainable was still a Mortal sin. So by 10th grade I basically dropped Catholicism , and have never really looked back. I had no doubt that the energetic was real, no doubt that god existed, but if Grandma was right I was damned anyway so I might as well look for a better answer.

Fortunately, the door to a better answer had been cracked open by the most unlikely of persons.

You see I spent most of my Jr High school years in a state school. "Immaculate Heart of Mary's" Children's Home in Buffalo. It was one of the last of the group homes and I understand it finally went under financially some 10+ years ago. Sister Sharon was our group minder, but she lost her job. The wonderful woman, just boiling over with life affirming (Venus in Taurus) energy lost her mind one night. We where watching a movie about a "Happiness Bug" that infects New York City and makes everyone pleasant. It was truly bizarre. Well somehow this inspired some of the guys to start tickling each other to make the poor victim laugh himself helpless, all the time we where chanting "Happiness Bug." Instead of slapping us down, Sharon Joined in and the madness spilled out of our group area into the common area outside. So the Sr Boys, and a 250lb Nun, where racing around the compound tickling anyone they could find shouting "Happiness Bug."

Mother Superior of the Order, whose face looked like a very unhappy bug, did not approve, and Sharon was removed from the staff and told she should reconsider her calling. I never saw her again, but I hope life has been kind to her. She may have had a body far to large to be conventionally attractive, but it was needed to house an immense heart, and she was one of the most beautiful women I have ever known.

Her replacement at the school, (not as group minder) was Miss Colleen a breathtaking red haired Irish woman to whom all the boys paid absolute attention. In a tiny two minutes of conversation she changed my life. We had been rude to her because she picked up where she thought Sharon left off, but he had covered all that material last semester. So we where like, been there done that. We actually made her cry I understand. Which is why I got tossed out of music class one day. (This was easy the Sister and I clashed daily.) Anyhow I knew If I got tossed I could slip back to homeroom and talk to Colleen.

I don't remember the details of the conversation but I think I said something about our behavior not being particularly Christian. She replied that was ok she was not a Christian. I had never met a person who was not some flavor of Christian and asked her why not? I'm sure she was risking her job to answer but teachers like me ;) and she said

"I don't believe a Loving and Merciful God could damn his children to hell for eternity. It's a primitive and barbaric point of view." ... She said more, but this was what has stayed with me all these years.

So when I walked away from my childhood faith there was Colleen in my minds eye to open the door, to say, its ok there actually are other paths up the mountain. Now I did not visit the library, or sample churches or any of that, but I used to Jog a lot, and jogging leads to its own form of Meditation in Motion. The Body runs and the mind wanders.

Some place along the line, probably American History, I was introduced to the Idea of a Clock Maker God. The notion that God was quite real, but also utterly impersonal. Now at the time, I was the product of a broken home. My dad was an Alcoholic, and an addicted Gambler. My Neighborhood was rife with drugs and street gangs, I was offered a chance to score acid my first day of High school. It was in fact the first thing anyone said to me at all. While some of my fathers personal friends where simply derelicts, who I knew by name through dad.

Looking out over Riverside from our apartment atop of O'Connor's bar. A Clock Maker God that does not give a tinkers damn about his creations personally made a lot of sense, while a personal Savior that loved you so much he gave his life to save you soul seemed, well absurd. As I said above ground what you believe in the report of your senses, what my senses reported was, God who ever he is, has no clue Riverside even exists.

I entered Collage and found happiness for the first time in my life. I was amazed to discover a place existed where intelligence was not a horrid social disease that could get you a terrible beat down, lest you contaminate some popular moron with your brain. I stumbled into Philosophy because I needed some humanities credits and just fell in love. Kant, Barkley, Descartes, oh I loved them all, but above all others. David Hume, for grounding my reality in the report of my senses. Ivan Karamotsov for asking the Questions I only dreamed of answering. And Parmenadies of Ele, teaching me to question everything, everything we think of as real, everything we believe. My guide on this road, and the man I can credit with turning a rock into a thinking human being was John Carbonara to whom I owe a debt beyond price.

Now Buffalo in the Winter, sucks. Its cold beyond belief and we spend a lot of hours in doors. I was the DM of one of the very first D&D campaigns in the city. (But Im sure you figured out by now I was something of a nerd.)

A friend of mine was taking a course in "Comparative Religion." Which he found quite boring. I thought heck I'll audit, I might get some good Ideas for Mura. Dr Tomostovich, was a delightful "VERY OLD SCHOOL" East European professor. He showed up every day promptly. Read extensively from his voluminous notes and promptly left.

He was an absolute and utter humanist. He did not entertain for a moment the idea that Isis, Horus, Innana where ever more than literary devises of an ancient peoples trying to explain to themselves the seemingly unexplainable. His utterly dry, non-judgmental vision was so perfectly what I needed in that moment. He shared with us what the Ancient Pagans believed, bits of their poetry, more of their art. He repeatedly demonstrated how every important idea in the Christian Faith, the Shepard King, the Rebirth, the message of the Messiah, was shared by religions that had preceded the Rabbi by millennia. He was also the person who taught me to think of Jesus as a Rabbi, a great teacher, but a man. He compared the Song of Solomon to an Ancient Pagan text, and showed the parallels. I don't remember which now.

Inch by Inch he opened a door I'm sure he never expected too. What these pagans believed made sense. The world surely was alive, you cant keep it from being alive, even in Riverside life comes pushing its way up out of the Tarmac. Gaia does not damn you for loving May Casey, Gaia blesses you with amazing joy for Loving May, so you will return to her and give Gaia the opportunity to express herself through her daughter. The Paganism I saw in those songs, and art, and Pyramids, where so beautiful, and positive, and life affirming, and so very not Christian.

One night, under a full moon, I was in my back yard. The moment just seemed right, I had not thought about it before, I have not looked back since. I looked up at that moon and addressed the Lady by the name I then knew best. I told Mother Isis I was hers now, that I did not know how to worship her but I would learn how. I prayed to her, I blessed myself, and I was and have since ever been Pagan.

Ama tu ANKI, BB.


The Valley of Death

It is simply true that for most of the 80's and 90's I simply lost my way spiritually. So what follows is more the biography of a rather harsh life shared by two tragically mis-matched people than a spiritual investigation. You might pass over this piece but I feel the tale would be incomplete if I left it untold.

One night, under a full moon, I was in my back yard. The moment just seemed right, I had not thought about it before, I have not looked back since. I looked up at that moon and addressed the Lady by the name I then knew best. I told Mother Isis I was hers now, that I did not know how to worship her but I would learn how. I prayed to her, I blessed myself, and I was and have since ever been Pagan.

But life does not stop because you happen to have a golden moment in which you touch the divine, you approach completeness, and you honestly would not mind if it did. ... No life grinds relentlessly onward headless of whether you moment is good, or bad, Touches Perfection, or drags you through hell.

I was very much in love with L at the time, and ignoring certain signs of potential trouble married her shortly after I entered service. Let me be clear about this, one of my first esoteric interests was handwriting analysis. In this discipline a forward slant to ones writing indicates one thing, and a backwards slant another, but to have both indicates a rather disturbed mind. Looking at this most beautiful woman, who was graduating Cum Laude, well ahead of me in our class. I simply blew off the possibility she could be disturbed. It made no sense.

Life in service was much more difficult than I expected it to be, and our home life suffered. A lot of couples which include a member in combat arms break up under the pressure of the life. I was away from home almost half the year, and when I was home we endured what Top Russell called, "A 14 Hour Military Day." Shortly after my father died I was hospitalized for nervous exhaustion.

In the ensuing 3 years I basically forgot my promise to Isis, and lost track of my spiritual life. God became once again, Very Male, Very Angry, and basically just the instrument that administered the Cosmic/Karmic beat down I saw as largely making up my life. Im sure I made Ls life a living hell because rage was my chief emotional expression. If the energy you transmit into the ether is ultimately the energy that returns to you, then my life did nothing to challenge that argument.

In the first year of that time L was pregnant with Daph. She read every book she could lay her hands on. Every night I was not in the field I would return home to the daily report as to why it was inevitable that our child would be a still born Cyclopes with webbed hands and feet. When I was in the field each letter reported each new terror she unearthed. After the child was born she HATED me because I was not filled with wonder and joy for the birth of our beautiful baby. While I spent the first year in daily terror, utterly certain that Daph would be stolen from us by crib death. It took me that long to move past the daily assurances of doom that filled L's pregnancy. To this day when a friends wife is pregnant I advise them, don't let her read. If I could go back in time I would burn every book she tried bring into the house.

Ls argument was always. We have to be prepared. It took me Decades to form the simple reply. "No We DONT." Sometimes preparing for the disaster is at least as bad as the disaster itself, and certainly we could not suffer all these myriad hardships. I did not understand the report of my own senses, the madness behind this compulsive need to unearth, digest, and process, every possible tragedy that might befall us before it occured, as though that would somehow protect us from the reality in the moment. There is something to be said for taking what comes down the pike, and dealing with it when it comes. Surely there must be a happier medium.

So as I said, God seemed very far away. At best uncaring at worst Malevolent. The daily reports of the horrors that might befall the newly born did nothing to polish Gods image. I did very little to honor my own path and less to honor L's. Which was something she could not stand. (Venus in Aq) L NEEDS her spiritual path Validated, in a way I did not need, understand, or empathize with at all. I loved to debate such things even then, (Jupiter in the third house.) Jupiter's Love of Philosophy and "Big Questions" Im sure speaks to my own interest in the subject, but in that very bitter and agnostic moment of my own life, my opinions where just poisonous to L. She simply did not have the Psychic Equipment to challenge my view, or to agree to disagree and live contented with her own. Her need for Validation, to conform her views to those around her, (Venus is receptive not assertive after all) was completely at odds with what she needed to believe in the face of my own Agnostic view. L could not make any peace with a clockmaker god that saw her as no different than A tree, A dolphin, A Camel or the Camels Dung. She Needed to be special, and I was not offering special.

Its Ironic, perhaps Karmic, thinking about it now, how we could hardly have been built more perfectly to clash in this area. Jupiter in the third was just about guaranteed to question the very things she most desperately needed to leave unquestioned. Our lives might have been so much better if I could have sat beside her and read, "Surprised by Joy", or "Mere Christianity" and compared notes about how insightful C.S. Lewis was as a spiritual observer. But I would have had to be someone else. I appreciated much of Lewis's work, I very liked Peralandra, and the Screw Tape Letters, but I could not just stop there. As has come back again and again. I looked out at an uncaring world, and asked, just where the hell does a caring god fit into this mess, no Mr Lewis's God just was not my God.

Our 9 years in service was not Living Hell for all that, if I missed Daph's infancy, I did get to enjoy much of her early childhood. She was a wonderful, bright, lively little person. During our time in Colorado I was in the best shape of my life cycling to work through the foot hills of the Rockies, and England is a beautiful place. Truly a Green and Pleasant Land. Our lives alternated between good and bad patches, but perhaps overall approached a sort of balance.

My first year out of service I lived in blissful ignorance. I worked for Lockheed Missile, made more money than I knew what to do with, and looked forward to ultimately using my satellite background open a door into the State Department. My dream of becoming a Communications specialist in Foreign service and seeing the world seemed quite reasonable. Yet for all the money I made, we where constantly broke. It seemed impossible to save. It was only towards the very end that I realized L was spending 4 to 500 a week to support her habit, although she has only ever admitted to Alcohol abuse.

In the end I was denied a security clearance, for reasons I have explained elsewhere. I lost my job, and in the aftermath, I had to work two jobs for most the next 10 years just to keep a roof over our heads. For something over two years I worked 7 days a week. I had no time for spiritual interests, or much of anything else. I did my Karate Forms in the Garage Basements of my work site at my security job. My routine day consisted of Rising at 5 am for a 6am work call at the cable company. Racing for the bus shortly after I got home around 3pm and laying down to sleep just before Midnight after walking home from the train station. (The last bus having run hours before I got off work.)Weekends I still worked mids for the security company.

Day by day my life was slowly killing me, and L just watched. Saturn sits nicely centered in L's 10th House Aspected to Jupiter in her chart. (And My Jupiter sits right on her Saturn.) Saturn in the 10th speaks to at best a strained relationship with responsibility, the native is going to look to Jupiter to carry her water. It was simply inconceivable to L at one level that I (Jupiter) needed her help, that I could possibly fail. While on another the evidence of her eyes and ears, told her otherwise, I was constantly sucking wind for the cumulative exhaustion, I thought I had contracted TB from the homeless I dealt with on the security job. L could not deal with the reality that confronted her, so she hid by drinking more and more. We had both always drank to much to this point, but her drinking at this point moved from excessive to truly self destructive.

Meanwhile I did learn to put down my Rage. It became painfully obvious that rage only served to piss away precious energy, and that it never once solved a problem in my life. My father was a man whose first response to a problem was to hit it, but he is hardly alone in our working class neighborhood.

At the same time Arnold and Bruce Willis, and a whole troop of characters going back to John Wayne, swagger through a world of Manly men, confronted by problems that require a steely eye, good nerves and a sure hand with a revolver. That this world has NOTHING to do with the real world, real young men grow up into is somehow left out of the equation. Basically from 20 to 35 I had to unlearn most everything I was taught about being a man in my childhood and reconstruct myself into someone who could live in the world as it is, rather than pointlessly rail against the machine. I succeeded in the end, but not without cost to myself or those around me.

At the end of the day though, I simply had to put an end to situation I was in, or die. One night after working 7 days a week for over 2 years. I came home, told L she had 30 days to be in work or I would take my next pay check, get on a bus, and she would never see me again. She found a job in the next 10 days. Its the only time in my life a moment of rage actually served a useful purpose.

I had Traversed the Valley of Death, not by being the Baddest Mother in the Valley, but by finally learning how not to be.


Ostra

And then an Odd thing happens. L's being in work made my life feel like a permanent Vacation for the next year. I was only working one job, I could not imagine what "normal" people did with all this time off. I bought a computer so Daph could do her homework, but of course began to use it myself.

Then someplace along the line I stumble on this really beautiful Tarot Deck at borders. But Tarot Decks are way to expensive. I mean really $20 for a deck of cards, I can get a half dozen decks for that money. Yet I just keep noticing it when I go to the store. Now of course the Ps of Swords is really beautiful, but I wonder now if it was something a little more than beauty that drew me to this deck.

Of course I purchase the deck and begin reading again. Im not sure, but I believe this is shortly after I returned to work in the Satellite industry. My life was lining up in ways I would have thought impossible a few short years before hand. Of course I had read Carlos Castaneda a long time ago, and recently re-read him because a friend at work (cable) was very interested in the expansion of consciousness and alternate views of reality. So we basically read A Separate Reality, and The Power of Silence together and compared notes at work. Which was very pleasing for me.

For me the most powerful concept in Carlos is Intent. That yes god has a plan, expressed as the Intent, but God does not force his plan down our collective throats, and human misery by and large stems from our own choice to live at odds with Gods plan. Unfortunately we live in a world that is largely soul blind and god blind, and most people have no clue as to what their intent is in the first place nor any idea how live their life in harmony with it in the 2nd. So unless your the rare Joseph Campbell who stumbles upon ones bliss, the normal human condition is rather harsh.

Carlos's vision of the Intent is really as close as I have ever come to an acceptable answer to the problem of evil, something I could make peace with after all. So as I said I was reading again. In part this was simply because I wanted to learn how to read this beautiful deck. I had never succeeded in learning how to read a pips deck. Not in 20 years of off again on again reading. I never really applied myself with this intensity before, but I had even then liked the visual cues in the tiny pictures contained in the Magickal Tarot. (A Thoth Child Deck.)

I had never however come close before to the immediate connection I felt with the Gendron Tarot, here was a tool by which perhaps I could find my intent. Certainly my life to date proved my own amazing talent for not finding it on my own. As I am a firm believer in the learning by doing school of thought, I began to read for people on line. I did not expect to be particularly talented, not did I expect anywhere's near the response hanging out your shingle in a chat room can create. At the end of the day it proved I was well blessed in this, Q's where pleased much more often than not, and honestly amazed a good bit of the time. Nothing is quite so encouraging as success, and I invested more and more time in reading.

Of course a Tarot reader is not the Pancecea for all the worlds ills. Even in my own home I could see that simple fact at work. L would ask for a reading from time to time, and it would always speak to her great potential. Six months later she would be in pretty much the same place. Saturn in the 10th, all the potential in the world is meaningless till you shove Saturn aside and head down the road to realizing it. L seemed to be like a woman who wants to be an actress waiting to be "discovered" in the checkout line at Giant. Information is only power if you use it.

Still I was very much impressed. Tarot was slowly becoming the most important thing in my life outside of work. I began to think of myself as a Tarot Reader, who happened to work in electronics, Vs a Technician with an interest in Tarot. Its an important distinction. If I had not found something that made me "happy" per se, I had found something that was immensely satisfying. In that through the Tarot I could help people get a better perspective on their present moment, and in this way hopefully chart their best path.

Innana

It would be redundant to recapitulate here the story of how Innana became a part of my life. I will keep this as brief as possible. One night I am sitting down with a short glass of brandy, and planning to chill for an hour before bed, but my eye just keeps wandering again and again to a Tarot deck on the coffee table.

I pull a cross saying basically, ok what have you got to say. Most of it makes sense and seems to describe my present moment. The 10 of Pents Rx, and 8 of Wands Rising. however do not fit. I put down my glass. I dont know what the cards mean, but I decide its best to keep a clear head. A 5am I am racing L to the hospital for Pancreatitis. (sp)

At this point I find I have to reconsider my relationship with the Tarot. I had to this point operated from a very mechanistic, as above so below view point as to why Tarot worked. I had pulled at least dozens of spreads at this point maybe hundreds. That Tarot did in fact work was for me not in Question, nor a "Belief" it was a well established fact based on the consistent and repeated report of my own senses. But now a new element entered into the Equation, it did seem clear to me that someone had wanted my attention, and used the Tarot warn me of Ls impending illness. For reasons of my own I chose to call this person Innana.

At this point it is rather moot, that I might have blown off this event. Wrote it off as a one time thing and returned to my mechanistic relationship with the Tarot. Its simply not what happened. Instead I honored my guide as Innana, and she responded by gifting me with readings of increasing elegance, and challenging me with readings of increasing difficulty. The difficulty lay however not in the interpretation, which was often quite direct in its elegance, but in the demand of utter truth it lay on my shoulders. It was often very challenging to be her voice in the world, telling people the often cutting things she communicated. The Princess of Swords on the cover of the Gendron proved to be all too accurate a portrait of the Stern Lady across the veil I was beginning a three year conversation with in this moment.

Yet at the risk of flattering myself, I have always felt that the truth is one of the truly sacred things in the world, and Innana's apparent passion of the truth was very attractive to me. Nothing could have so surely drew me towards her flame, and whatever comes of our relationship she has given me a wonderful gift. I was raised Catholic you prayed, God hopefully listened, and Faith was basically believing he did with out evidence. I could never return to worshiping a silent god again. I have a Lady, and good, bad, or indifferent she does anwser you.

I invest more and more time in the Esoteric, when I am not reading I am studying, at first the Tarot, but later I begin to add Astrology. At first this begins as a means to better understand the court cards. I feel astrology holds the key to unlocking this engimatic aspect of the Tarot, later I begin to value and study Astrology on its own. This brings a new and treasured friend into my life. My mentor Shannon, who is at once of the wisest, and uplifting people I know. I've said many times people come down to two types. Fountains and Drains, Shannon is one of the more spectacular fountains in creation.

Crunch Time.

As played out largely on the boards of GTS some months ago my life came to a rather intense crunch as I saw it at the time. My friend Geri arranged an interview for me and I was offered an oppertunity to return to the world of secured work. Of course being surrounded by witches and readers I had no shortage of guidance and everyone told me to take the plunge.

And of course I did for a moment accept the offer. And almost immediately Ls disease kicked again. I was rushing her to the hospital bleeding out of the back of her head, just 10 days before I was supposed to take this new job. Its hard to discribe how I felt in that moment. It must be because I obviously failed when I tried.

What I felt in that moment more than anything else was I had been betrayed, that my guide was quite clearly pointing me down a path that could only end in disaster. My current employeer, whatever its faults, has always been very supportive and understanding of L's problems, and how they impact my life. I felt certain if I took this position my guide was pointing me towards, I would find myself repeating my experiance with Lockheed Missle. The Clearance would be denied, I would loose my job, I would have given up my position with my current employer, and lost my toehold in Satellite. It was a recipe for disaster. Electronics is not a good field anymore, most of the work has been outsourced overseas, and if you can find a job in the field, you will soon realize wages in this field have been largely frozen since 1980. Yet I have grown much older, and I am simply not strong enough to work two jobs regularly again.

I was simply furious with Innana that she was leading me by the hand back onto a path, that clearly lead through "The Valley of Death." I dont give a good god damn about my Karma, If I have to repeat that particualar lesson, I'll repeat it in another life, (preferably without L.) but not this one, not if I can help it at all.

I also just could not understand for the life of me why my guide was pointing me towards this disaster. If she has my welfare, much less my bliss, at all in her heart why put me on a road that would lead to unemployment, Poverty, and possible homelessness. It seemed simply cruel. I had always accepted a certain Cruelty in Innana's readings as part of the package. I felt it was just a necessary part of expressing the truth. Yet in this moment I did not see any truth, it seemed to me that I has in fact being lied to, that I has being told, this was my path, but the path I was being shown could only end in disaster.

I put down my guidance, and returned to my current work. I put down my Tarot decks, and did not read again for three months. I returned to my childhood vision of God. Maledrobe. The Mad God in the Fiction of Micheal Moorcock. Yes we may all be the stuff of Gods Dream, but a Mad Gods dream needs not have any ultimate meaning, or beauty. Just the infinate expression of what is simply possible, in all its possible ugliness.