MAPS: Chapter 8
View the CHAPTER 8 Character MAP
Place yourself on the READER MAP . . .
where in the world is the Ash Girl on its quest?
Tree | The Shape of Things | Hyena | Artemis Speaks
The Ace of Disks has long vexed me. Aces are hard enough, the best most can do is explain them something like, “Aces include all of the suit but only in the sense that it represents the seed or the source without any of the attributes.” Huh? And Disks in particular: is the tree made of feathers or the wings made of wood? And, while it might be my favorite card (connected to trees as I am) this one has the mark of ‘the beast’ from Aleister Crowley smack in the center. (Note the 666, and perhaps recall how The Ace of Disks snarled at Frieda when she walked by at the gallery show. Read DuQuette on this if you want the whole story.)
“Why would I even point that out?!?”
Because, this story is also about transcending Aleister’s particular, egoic aspects and reputation related to the Thoth Tarot deck. Sweeping them under the rug really doesn’t resolve the issue—holding the dark and light of others, self, and all as One thing is the trickiest of tricks. So back to the Ace of Disks and how the cards change and show you what you need to see in the moment? In an ‘oh I see it now’ way the Ace of Disks is Tree—an ancient wood being that floats in the air as if it has wings: Half material and half ethereal.
Three of my favorite Tree inspirations from THE ASH GIRL PINTEREST COLLECTION
Let silent witness of the trees bring you to your knees.
Poplar trees and barracks foundations at Dachau
Photo from LondolozzI blog
I set out in MAPS to offer the stories in the story of The Ash Girl, and these images represent stories that are twined together in a few places. First, the idea of trees as witnesses to our history that often outlive us. If you visit Dachau, the concentration camp near Munich, Germany, you will see this row of poplars making a promenade between the remaining foundations of the prisoner barracks. (In the distance you can see a replica of a set of barracks). In the museum there you can also see photos and read the story of how the prisoners planted those trees.
Let that sink in.
So with the meager resources that I had in that moment to rectify the terrible things that happened in this place, I silently offered my gratitude and bore witness to those trees.
“The way she stopped in her tracks, the look on her face as she stare at my trunk and branches, well, it is humbling to be so seen. So thoroughly witnessed.”
They left the building foundations as the bones to implore us to forgive, but never to forget the shape of that war and all that humans are capable of given certain conditions. Surely though there is loss in the translation through time, as powerfully resonant as the energy in these places is. We keep telling the stories for that very reason. And work to make them relevant, captivating and transformative while entertaining our Netflix-adapted brains.
The elephant bones are mixed into this memory for me. And the alchemic reaction when ancient traditions are carried inside waves of progress . . . waves of sand . . . sun-whitened bones jutting up out of the red-gold-red dunes.
“He had been born to the kings of his tribe, he had told her, but the ways of their tribe were like this elephant. Scavenged for the easiest parts to digest. The bones though, he’d said, stroking the length of a great arching rib, the bones remember the shape of things.”
Hyenas and Little Black Dogs
“He taught her to kill clean, only what they needed, and to give thanks. To promise her flesh back to the animals one day as grass. ‘The gift moves,’ he said, ‘it is the only way.’ ”
I had trouble uploading my own hyena footage but found this that was so close to my experience of these extraordinary creatures.
3 reasons to love hyenas . . .
They are SUPER efficient, eating EVERY part of their kills, except the tails (go figure).
Clans are matriarchal—and while their habitats are threatened, hyenas have barely evolved over thousands of years, which just goes to show how nearly perfectly attuned their way of life is.
They LOVE to play! We sat for two hours one night outside a clan’s burrow watching the pups and parents, even a visiting dad, play chase and tumble around and snuggle.
ARTEMIS SPEAKS FOR HERSELF
ARTEMIS AND THE MYTH OF ACTEON
“Asmeret stood, slowly, carefully, then exhaled as the heads and backs and tails of the dogs that ran in these fields wagged themselves silly. One by one, they sat at her feet.”
We see echoes of Artemis’ mythology in Asmeret’s journey—the dogs that worship her like their queen, even giving one of their own pups to her as an honorific. With the little dog as half of her heart, she is literally conjoined with the pack. With the half-wild.
Now I don’t have a quarrel with the abundance of stories about Artemis killing men, each one is a cautionary tale against trying to dominate the divine feminine through force . . . but when I found a detailed account of young Artemis and Apollo witnessing the rape of their mother (an act of vengeance wrought by the jealous wife, Hera) I was bothered by the lack of connection the mythos of Artemis makes from this childhood trauma to her future actions; nothing of the terror, grief and anger she must carry or of some kind of PTSD, no they make it out like she was just mean and vindictive. (I understand that psychology wasn’t really a thing then.) So I asked her. Is there a lost story that needs to be told? Something to bring into the light that would help you heal? I wrote it down and now you have read it, and perhaps you might pass it on . . .
Don't they know? I don't think they do.
The humans, I mean.
How much power they wield with the stories they tell.
When that first man wondered aloud about our childhood . . . the storyteller changed my destiny and the fate of his descendants three thousand years later. . .
Because of this man's vile mind and vicious tongue, my brother and I crouched in a corner, terrorized, until one brave and intelligent girl sitting off to the side of the enraptured crowd interrupted the storytelling and called out to him, "Wouldn't Zeus's children be very strong and kill the monster to save their mother? That is how I would tell it,” the girl said.
And so we did.
There is harm in leaving these Greek myths as is. We carry the imprint deep in our westernized story minds, so we dig deeper, beneath the metaphoric split between feminine and masculine and the aggression between them to re-story us bit by bit back into a harmonious union.
What if, instead of only death, Artemis also created life . . . even though she wasn’t awake enough to break her own mother’s cycle of birth and sacrifice. (And we haven’t yet seen what is possible when the next generation of twins are born of ashes at the hands of the Princess of Fire!)
LETO GIVES BIRTH TO ARTEMIS AND APOLLO
Of course, there are SO MANY stories now of Artemis as a re-claimed icon of feminine power and strength. The Ash Girl simply adds to the canon of art that seeks to activate the new story in this life, as much as we can.
3 LOAVES OF BREAD
A SYMBOLOGY LESSON IN 3 MINUTES OR LESS
WHEN Asmeret arrives at the witch’s hut for the first time, she is nine. She has been asleep for a full cycle of the moon and comes upon a round hut in the woods. If you aren’t ready for some fairy tale metaphors, you just aren’t paying attention, but of course I don’t blame you if you don’t know what they mean! So here we go . . .
Asmeret is in the hut alone and 3 loaves of bread wait for her over a fire.
She eats the first, which feeds her physical body, sating her hunger somewhat.
She eats the second, which feeds her medial body—evidenced by the hut in which she sits is shaped like an egg, which gets her attention as she eats this bread. (The orphic egg of the tarot is prominently shown on the VI LOVERS and IX HERMIT cards.)
The third loaf feeds her spirit body—causing her to unconsciously put her hand to the hot grate, burning three interlaced circles into her palm which begin to move and spin, activating some mystic power in her that she will have to learn to use (but resists).
“Something had risen up inside her, something like fear. One idea loomed at the edge of her mind, something like disappear.”
A guide instructs her to put her hands on the trees, the young trunks of which make up the ribs of the hut’s domed structure, and she does. The final tree—the twenty first—feels like a river, feels like Snake. The voice says “Follow me.” Raven appears, picks up the dog and flies out the door.
“Asmeret disappeared.”
There are key principals or elements of magic, three of which are repeated in Asmeret and Charlotte’s stories: Appear. Disappear. Restore. (Thanks to my dear friend and Master—not your mama’s—Magician, Andrew Bennett for that lesson—you might love his youtube videos here.)
Asmeret rises from a pyre restored physically and with a strong Will to set out on her own, following her instincts. This is a classical mythic theme. (Any other GOT fans out there, flashing back to Dani walking out of the fire holding three baby dragons?)
The three bodies, three tests, three loaves of bread are also traditional elements. Metaphorically when Asmeret passes through the three gates of being, feeding herself from the gifts nature (The Great Mother) has provided—physical, metaphysical, and spirit—she is the Princess of Disks calling her Prince to her side. Raven appears, picks up her other ‘half’ and she follows.
Raven, the girl and the little black dog are now a trio. Raven will be her teacher—helping her remember all of the divine knowledge she has forgotten from her ‘dream’. The twenty-one trees represent the twenty-one cards of the Major Arcana (the twenty-second, 0 FOOL, being the hut itself) and the development path of Asmeret and all awakening humans.
She feels connected to the twenty-first, the river and snake—shapes The Great Mother takes—sensing her own future.
She trusts her HGA ( Crowley speak for guardian angel or higher self)—Raven—and follows him wherever he is going to take her. The little black dog is spoken of as ‘the other half of her heart’. In fairytales and mythology dogs often represent our animal aspect—the instinctive nature (the voice of the earth/Great Mother) that humans have forgotten how to hear and trust. Companion dogs not only make the human feel safe and comforted, recipients of unconditional love and joy, but the dog will often do what the human perceives that they cannot because of social or physical limitations—accomplishing work that needs to be done for the human to progress on their true path (remember the bit about daemons and guardian animals in earlier posts—click on key words below if you want to take a look). If the dog is killed or dies before the ‘work’ is done or the human has become willing and able to that work themselves, the human will fail to achieve a full mature life. Keep her alive until it’s time.
For now, Asmeret is safely on her way . . .
“The girl and the little black dog slept in the nest under the stars most nights. When it stormed, or when the moon went dark, they slept below, rocking with the waves and wind. Raven kept watch from his roost at the very top of my canopy. Hyena patrolled the border where our peninsula connects to the mainland. Snake swirled in infinite loops, leaving her tracks for the Ash Girl to find in the bone-white sand and blood-red dirt.”
GODDESS ENERGY RISING. RESTORE!
Please take a 4 minute look at this opportunity to help RESTORE (one of the 3 principles of magic) forests all over the world. This is a top-rated NGO that completely aligns with the the theme this release of letting the witness of TREES bring us to our knees, and then to stand up and take action to save them . . . and us.
Visit TREESISTERS directly.
WHAT’S NEXT?
For your personal quest, book club, or gathering of friends, QUEST(ions) are offered here.
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