Building on the previous Astrology as Time Machine blog…
In some ancient cultures the High Priest would be akin to the modern day Architect. The High Priest would be the one to set and direct the location and orienting of a structure. Yes, he would be intrinsically familiar with the identity of a place, it’s genius loci. Yes, he would be familiar with sun angles and even potentially with how light works like a masterful clock as it shadow-light cascades through well-thought-out spaces. And, he would also most probably wholly rely on Astrology to set the time when he ventured out into the city or onto the land to set his omphallos, his sacred staff… with which he would set the structure. Call it a ground discovering ceremony prior to the design and consequent ground breaking ceremony.
As The Sun Also Rises, The High Priest Sets…
The High Priest and his entourage of architectural scribes, oftentimes 4 of them, would venture out into the city or onto the land. He would walk to the place that felt auspicious for a building to be located. He would settle in to that place as he felt into it. When he felt he his feet were planted in the right place, he would take a shoulder-width sidestep… and plant his omphallos in that place he felt the genius loci magic, that special quality of a place. At attention the whole time, taking in his every move, the scribes would then wholebody focus in on his torso and his movements. Stepping back over to his omphallos, and standing on the North side of it, the High Priest would then begin to slowly turn around it like a sundial and compass needle at once, he himself feeling both inside.
The Priest’s Elliptic Ecliptic Stance-Dance
And, when the High Priest stopped and took his affirming big breath as he settled his energies down into to the earth and flew them up into the heavens from his staff, the scribes would play their instant orbit quick-game. Two of them moving out longways from him on an axis directly through his heart until he motioned them to stop. The other two would move shortways front and back from him centering their axis as well through his heart until he motioned them to stop. These four points would be then connected by the continuous curve of an ellipse. And, geometrically an ellipse is actually composed of 2 pairs of identical arcs in opposition-pairing for 4 arcs total. Longer flatter arcs at each the bottom and top cupping to one another, and shorter, more circular arcs at each side cupping to each other… each pair mirroring their counterpart and tangentially touching their neighbor arcs.
These arcs are actually…
These arcs are actually all circular. They are each a segment of a circle. Each pair simply has a different radius than the other. And, they meet together tangentially so that they appear to be one, seamless arced line. Just an fyi for all you fellow Jungians who play with squaring the circle and quaternities. Ellipses have what is called an eccentricity. The eccentricity of an ellipse is the degree, literally, to which it is actually a circle viewed in perspective. For example… a 15-degree ellipse is a circle leaned down to 15 degrees from the horizontal, and what is seen looking through or to it. A 60-degree ellipse is what is seen when a circle is leaned at 60 degrees from the horizontal. AND, when each pairs’ radius is the same, the eccentricity = 1. And, in that unity where the ellipses eccentricity is 1, it is no longer an ellipse. It has become a circle. Pretty cool that unity pulses even in how geometry is composed.
Simpler, with not so much whatev kinda jargon like a drafting lesson
Another way to visualize this which is much simpler? Visualize the ellipse as the shape projected on a vertical plane from a leaning circle. And, since the drafting term of “projection” can have beautifully ambiguous psychological crossover implications … which leads to another way to see this. Shine a light on a circle that is leaned down. Its shadow that is cast will be the ellipse. Uh oh. We have a homonym of a shadow in play here. Kinda frickin coolio! I get so much psychology mileage out of architecture. And, it’s not just the architecture. The actual methods of the drafting and drawing methods themselves have some interesting cross-over terms with psychology. Projection. Translation. Perspective. Axis. Equilibrium. Mirror. Area like a sphere of influence. Line. Arc. Tangent. Center. Hmmm… Where’s the center? Well, the center is not always necessarily in the middle in nature. Think of the nucleus of a cell. Your heart. That’s something to chew on. Center vs middle. So, if sin is bad, is cos good? da bum bump chzzzzz.
a helpful drawing template
Ellipse as projection or potential shadow of the (circle of) Self?
Can you see the 4 arcs together forming this ellipse?
This place in space where the axes crossed through his heart would be noted as to where the Hearth or center would be located in the home or structure or complex. The long length of the structure would be oriented along the left-right axis (usually East-West though not always). The front and Main Entry of the structure would be designed on the side the High Priest’s chest faced, the back of the structure to his back.
Though, let’s demystify this architectural site meeting just a hair. You see, the High Priest usually knew of how the sun travels through the sky and affects structures throughout the day. So, the longways, side-to-side axis would typically be oriented at 15 degrees from the true East-West axis. I won’t go into that further to save you from a Passive Solar Spatial Design Course. Suffice it to say it works wonders for a structure’s feel which enlivens its function. Call it synchronizing the light and shadows via the structure being seen as a clock.
Scribes new world
How We Experience Unseen Astrology?
I feel to be the chief form-giver of this whole process is something typically unseen. That is the “when” of this process of locating and orienting a structure. The High Priest’s knowledge of siting or placing a structure certainly came into play as did views and drainage. As did elevation changes in the land and land-forms and site features. As did genius loci and climate and prevailing wind direction. As did as did as did etc, etc. What is key here is… WHEN the High Priest set out and did all this. When he set out to do all this. When he set out for this siting/placing of a structure. And, when he would place the omphallos.
And, when would he set out on his way to place the omphallos to set the structure? And, then when would he actually set the omphallos in the ground and square his sun-dial-Self compass-shoulders to orient the structure in its location?
His Astrologers, himself oftentimes one of them as his own wise counsel, would have determined the most auspicious time for him to set out, and to explore the place for how long as the energies came to be auspicious, and then when to settle into the space of the area of the hearth, and when… once all was in place… when to set the omphallos and compass-square-up his shoulders. Lotta “whens” there for what pretty much simply equates to… Once upon a time a Divine Dood took a walk with his staff. He gets to this uber coolio spot and BLAM he plants his staff in the earth. And, then these 4 Divine Priest Paparazzi scurried about and drew an ellipse in the sand about him. And, they are all important “whens” in the mini-time sequence of events that in their overall compose the whole process.
The When~Win Situation
Once upon a time Astrology provided the time WHEN the High Priest’s compass and square introduced the Hearth to pulse in the genius loci of a place. You can still of course use Astrology to best place a structure every day… You! Check your chart. Don’t check your chart for tomorrow, it’s too late in regard to effective syncing for planning. Play your cycles in the big clock of your life so you can better shift your focus and redirect your scale to other gear to engage more resonant Astrological energy as it becomes present. Doing this you may begin to notice more how you naturally orchestrate your momentum in different gears. Then, you are doing your part to more fully begin to allow your Astrologer’s Readings to more fully come to effectively inform YOUR whens. It’s a When~Win situation working long-form with your Astrologer. You don’t have an Astrologer? I would suggest to remedy that. I can recommend…
And There You Have It
And, there you have it. There you have a great many of the unseen things that come into play BEFORE the design of a structure even begins, before a shovel ever touches the ground. Well, for Architects who care enough to understand their High Priest-driven lineage it does. Play your own When~Win situation with your Astrologer to more effectively plan for a more auspicious orchestration of your momentum… of your cycles of momentum… with setting the structure of your life over time. Like in an ellipse, the math is more important than you know. If you see clearly, though, it is in your surroundings, too. Say “when” to your Astrologer to create your own When~Win situation.
Ciao For Now … is now a When.
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Welcome to this Tarothoppin’ segment along your TarotBlogHop Samhain dance. The theme across the TarotBlogHop during Samhain this year is: Rather than look to outside entities this Samhain, look inside of yourself. All of your Self. The dark pieces that you think you have left behind. The parts of your Shadow that you believe you have pushed deep, deep down into a dark well . . . I look forward to meeting you.”
I savor my Shadow, always have as long as I can remember. I remember watching the shadow of a butterfly, the butterfly flying near, its shadow on the ground flying near mine. And, as it flew by over me, its shadow disappeared into mine, re-emerging on the other side . . . of my shadow . . . of my head. I was 3.
Life as I thought I (k)new it with my big, bright eyes curious and intrepidly traveling was about to end . . . actually, one day, 3 miles down the highway to Funland it was soon to end, though didn’t. Heck, I asked my Mom if we could go to Funland. She expressed now wasn’t the time. Sauntered over and asked my Dad . . . after picking up a volume of Faulkner and dropping it in the trash. “Dad. Funland?” “Oh no, Jordy, go explore” as he motioned smilingly to the back yard which was pretty expansive. Heck, I had asked them if they wanted to go. I really wasn’t asking them to drive me there. I was just trying to be inclusive. They were my parents, and that was the only polite thing to do, right? So, I shrugged my shoulders, it was out the back door I went . . . and out the side gate, and down the street with a friend I happened to see, and was on my way stylin’ with no shirt on. He was a year older from up the street, but I used my deep and lightly gruff voice to make sure I knew what I was doing and make sure he thought this was a pretty good idea, too. It was ONLY 3+ miles down a highway, and there was only ONE highway . . . the highway just happened to be the majority of getting there. Geez, there was a shoulder, and after all . . . I was this many (3). LOL
Life as I (k)new it with my big, bright eyes curious and intrepidly traveling was soon to end. Or, was my life’s shadow simply flying in to my head to seed my continual transformation? . . . that had already concretely begun?
Let’s take a step back from 3. Yes, a step back from 3. This is not a specific memory other than the car smashing against the driveway when I dropped it ( 😉 ) but I had had a hernia when I was 2. My abdominal wall just flew open and my intestines POOF-bulged out. It’s more common than you know for boys. I don’t remember the pain as I evidently made quite the noises, though off to the hospital and Dr. Crump gently and masterfully pop-pressed my intestines back in with a masterful palm, and then sliced me open, and sewed me up good as new . . . or, so I thought.
You see, that hernia in the lower side of my abdomen. . . that’s the sacral region. A child of 2 won’t conceptualize the violation, only the no-pain-after. Frankly, it’s very natural. Sounds like blacking something out? Nah, my experience was fully experiencing and moving on, not tieing myself to every little experiential knick-knack. Didn’t really matter, though . . . Life as I thought I new it was about to end.
Age 4 1/2. Off to Mayo Clinic for 2 weeks. Reconstructive surgery on a portion of my insides. Evidently, I was still a bun in the oven, huh? They gave the final, physical formation pushes a boost. Oops, there was an overshadowing snag. All of the surgery went brilliantly, though I started the sniffles after a 16 hour surgery began. Came out with pneumonia — that happens if you go into a surgery with a cold — and lived 10 of the remaining 12 days in an oxygen tent. OOPS. oxygen tent. PURE environment. Can you say Initiation? Can you say high octane air? I’m betting those 10 days dosing me with that much oxygen activated some things a little early? Seratonin? HeLLO, How long till I get to be a man? lol. Balancing brain chemicals may have begun flowing as naturally as a child plays? . . . if they already weren’t. Couple the surgery trauma with the purity of an oxygen environment . . . . prelude to Chthonic Numinosity?
Age 5 1/2. Back to Mayo Clinic for Act II and doing the final touches inside after the rest of the surgery had had a year to take and get things going on their own.
Why am I going into this biography when the topic is about the Shadow? Because somewhere between 4 1/2 and 5 1/2 my childhood ended. Exile. All I could feel was exile, and my big, bright-eyed smile at the same time. Rumplestiltskin was my fave fave fave story. Heck! What little boy wouldn’t find the Gold-spinning Queen guessing Rumplestiltskin’s name on the 3rd try “in his rage drove his right foot so far into the ground that it sank in up to his waist; then in a passion he seized the left foot with both hands and tore himself in two.” THRILLING! RIVETING! Almost better than blowing things up. Almost. Yet, think of a boy learning his own name, opened up at 2. Nope. Not the name. Opened up at 4 1/2. Nope, Not the name again. And, BAM at 5 1/2 BOOM. “Close, suchre, and let all heal as he takes it easy for a while. He’s a real trooper.“
Scroll forward where we skip the summers in Central Mexico, divorce and consequent MULTIPLE CHRISTMASES AND BIRTHDAYS WHOO HOO! (Oh, don’t go there. I was 6 then. Safe to say that’s as processed and cooked as ground beef). Skip the discovery of Alan Watts and Eastern Philosophy and Architecture at 14. Skip the Black Belt at 17. Skip a whole 5 years of individual death marches of projects through architecture school.
Scroll forward to 1991, where the last day or two of thesis in college I had discovered Rainer Maria Rilke and Carl Jung and William Blake and Pablo Neruda almost simultaneously. Ohhh, the duality present. Oops, so I thought. How did I have such an immediate handle on these figures’ works? Yes yes, I resonated with them which certainly helps, though there was something of an almost direct memory quality to their work. Wasn’t some previous lifetime or concepts like that. Felt like as easy as remembering a fave birthday present or time from years back. Hmmm, I just graduated, and really had just begun my own education in earnest free of school. . . .
Please DO notice the archetypal sun in this card seen up close with deep space all around. Your bright identity can nestle in your shadow to highlight your brightness. Let it. May I suggest you ask it for a dance?
Scroll-dial up one year now to 1992 and I defined Self as “Chthonic Numinosity.” I painted “The Dive” and “Ichthusa” and “Chthonic Numinosity: Self” in the short span of several weeks after continuous Big Dreams each night, and POOF “Chthonic Numinosity: Self” was accepted into a show and featured in the front window of Alpha Gallery’s Art By Architects Show in Denver at 110 Broadway. I found Jung in earnest and devoured 22 Bollingen series volumes in 6 months. My painting “Ichthusa” disappeared when a woman said, “SO erotic” as she slipped a check in my hand, quietly took it off the wall as I watched, and walked out the door of a brewery’s gallery several months later. After her car disappeared out of sight, I had fun being fakely low-key with, “Has anyone seen the painting I had in this spot? Did one of you sell it?” Thing is . . . how did she hide in plain sight so stealthily as she carried a 20″ x 90″ painting right out the front door? One of the people I asked had actually helped her with the door.
She set the anima free back in the wild. I could forget about consciously mining those Melusina depths in earnest. Earnestly forget mining them, and earnestly forget and move on. Note to all you Girruls out there: Hell, if a guy ever even MENTIONS his anima to you, that faceless female onto which anything can project, RUN LIKE HELL. It’s important to know about it, but geez, no, nope . . . talk to the hand . . . don’t bring that up catharting in public unless you have just as big of an ‘excuse me’ ready when you cathart in public.
Think about that whole thing. She took the painting. It resonated, and I simply smile out from the depthful place and had a little fun as I saw the sun through the opening door. Cave metaphor? Yep. Long ‘parting is such sweet sorrow goodbyes?” Hell no. It was time. My Shadow then opened me up with forgetting being for getting. Forgetting, is for getting . . . for making more room for the good stuff with something I had made.
And, I had defined self as Chthonic Numinosity. ‘Nuff said as I loved yet forgot Carl Jung’s “Mysterium Coniunctionis: A Phenomenology of Self” into my own two words in that painting. Forgetting is for getting. Makes more room for YOUR OWN good stuff. What happened to that painting? I had THAT relationship in my early 30’s, and I let the Shadow lead one day. SO glad I did. I cut up and destroyed that painting after taking enough Glass Hook Venom from her to kill an elephant. Call it the Shadow Initiating me by trial and by fire from naivete so I’d keep my refreshed freshness and sense of humor with depthful, almost scuba gear for the psyche . . . yet as well my Shadow led me to step out of there pretty immediately, and get the rest of the backstocked paintings to be adopted by a friend and his storage area PRONTO before they suffered the same fate as Chthonic Numinosity’s shamanic dismemberment mirroring my own in the “Das Panzer” relationship. And, shadows stretch out long at certain times of the day. It was one of those ultra-mundane Tarot readings of my shadow long on the highway shoulder of ground in traffic, in a car, that pointed me . . . reading the visual . . . to GET OUT OF HERE! YOU ARE IN DANGER my Shadow felt to say when I traced its outline on the highway offramp. My Shadow literally pointed the way on the shoulder. Hmmm, sound familiar?
And, The Dive, my natural way, soonafter disappeared as a gift to a friend. You see, that exile I mentioned? I had and still have a wonderful family. Very very supportive. But, I was Rumplestitskin ripped open at 2, 4 1/2, and 5 1/2. Duality came early, and soonafter felt very amatuer or bush-league. Jung. Alchemy. Antinomy. Chthonic Numinosity is a statement of antinomy. Not antimony, antinomy — integrated inner opposites that in a small way each work together AS each supporting side of every Psychic Synapse Bridge in the magical twilight of a thought. Antinomy became the higher octave of duality, an interesting identity with shadow rather than Jeckyl and Hyde.
My sense of exile while being IN a supportive family environment can only be penned as a natural, self-exile, and at one and the same time it needs no impetus or direction or reasoning. That was simply how I began, the Capricorny sickly-ish child though mine presented physically in 1 2 3 and then off to the races across the next 20-year plateau. Exile and a comfortability with wandering were one pair of my chief influencers — now it’s more a comfortability with the not-knowing while freshly getting projects done on time like pulling fresh bread out of the oven. If I was bored then, I needed to go entertain myself. When you’re out there alone, ya gotta make it for yourself or you’ll bore yourself to death. When Tom Hanks named his ball Wilson . . . YES!!!! Deep In Self he was, and his Shadow-friend Wilson was the ideal companion . . . for the island.
Integrated inner opposites. Antinomy. Chthonic Numinosity. Your shadow plays with you every day with an even more fluid fluency than Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers dancing together regardless of your motions. Yes, that’s mundane shadow. Though, is it? Is it also the face of your depths evidently present? . . . . Yet, remember my butterfly at 3. It disappeared into my head, only to re-emerge, all the while before, during, and after as a shadow. A shadow into my head, that was a shadow. You can play some 3-level chess with that one . . . I’ll be over on the checkers board.
Have some fun in the sun and dance with your shadow. Be like The Sophia Principle that Pallas-Athene always reminds me of: Aware enough to sense your shadow, yet smart enough to dance with it. Notice that it is not phrased “to not fight with it.” Notice it is not phrased with light and dark and yin and yang and this and that and vice-versa contrariwise. It is phrased, “aware enough to sense your shadow, yet smart enough to dance with it.” Aware, conscious. Sense, natural animal. Smart, sensate Swords thinking. Dance . . . well, dance is everything, huh. Rather than waiting for a shaman to ask when you stopped dancing. I have been dancing with my shadow my whole life. May I cut in and ask you to have a dance with yours in the sun. Maybe it’s nothing. Maybe it’s that first step to finding that little kid in The Tower . . . the little kid that is You, Only New. But, you (k)new that, didn’t you? Go dance with yourself in the sun. I’m sure Billy Idol would approve.
How does YOUR Shadow enhance your sense of place cast from your body so you don’t float away, or at least you playfully know where your own ground is? How is the spell of your shadow cast? How do you cast the spell of your shadow?
Are there other shadow characteristics that are effortless as well? I suggest to just make sure you get used to leading when dancing with your Shadow. The Shadow isn’t very helpful when leading, and as you can imagine I’ve never been terribly fascinated with Persona. Was that a non sequitur? Well, I’ll be damned. It wasn’t. My Shadow made me do it, anyway, though. 🙂
TarotBlogHop in and dance! Heck, I may have re-invented enough wheels in my life to be an honorary tire designer. Even so, I still rather my foot on the gas, steering wheel in hand. I almost want to credit that to my Shadow. I’ll have to step up and accept the honor, though. The lighting in here doesn’t cast her through the screen.
Life didn’t really end, huh? In fact since age 2 it has just gotten intensely better and better. Note the two Tarot card images. The Sun, and The Tower. Feel deeply the Sun’s bright identity nestled directly in its deep-space-all-around Shadow, and its dark and light characters working together below. Note the After-Shadow of The Tower when all the smoke and rubble has cleared, and see the bright-eyed little child come up asking you all sorts of questions that you answer and answer and answer some more until you realize you are answering them ALL and POOF . . . poof . . . poof all quietens down, and that little child’s eyes beam, as you smilingly ask, “Who are you?” The child smiles back, “I’m you, only new.” DAYum, the Tower Kid is in the future from mentioning him before. Quite a bright one that Tower Kid jumping forward like that . . . perfectly out of line.
Nestle in to your dance with your shadow this Samhain, even if only in play with candles and masks. It helps keep you fresh, and is like Direct Priority Delivery from your unconscious. What shadows do your masks cast within you? How do you cast the spell of your own Shadow beautifully outward like The Sun card above? How can your Shadow be like a cashmere sweater? How do you dance with your Shadow?
May you lead your Shadow well in the dance . . . as you can’t help but wear it.
All similar, each unique.
~ THE END ~
Happy Tarot Samhain BlogHopping!
May your life be a place where masks are colorful and enlivening,
a place where masks fall away as naturally as autumnal leaves,
a place where you are always in the season.
May your life be as natural a place as the snake his skin shedded, the snake his skins not missed.
BOO! Jordan . . . Happy Samhain!
HEY!, Where’s my candy?!!!!
OH funny . . . just realized my street address is 110 now in a different city 20 years later.