Planetary things. They intrigue me.

Planetary things. They intrigue me.

This past year has been a flamethrower in many, many ways. Lots of structures, mostly nonsolid, mostly personal, have simply disintegrated, have blown apart, have washed away. Ways of being, thought forms I grew comfortable with, gone. I could go on and on, and you'd yawn - but likely you'd commiserate. Because so many of us have met with the embodiment of the Tower card in tarot, it's mind-boggling. So I won't go into all the details. But I will go into what it's brought up for me going forward.

I've spent a lot of time lost in Podcast Land, and mostly it's been witchcentric offerings, because I'm fashioning my own podcast for next year. But I've also gone down the rabbit hole of astrological podcasts. I studied astrology eons ago, and I have a rudimentary understanding of the art. Well, no, It's more than rudimentary, but it's nowhere near as second nature for me as tarot. Tarot and I became fast friends rather quickly, and the study of tarot is always rewarding, fascinating, soul tickling. I get it. But astrology seems like advanced calculus in comparison. And, while I was good at math, I didn't necessarily enjoy it.

But then the last year or so happened. And I began to become curious about the whys and wherefores, the possible reasons for so much calamity, sadness, and endings. Enter astrology. Enter the excellent Astrology Podcast, where three intrepid practitioners delve into the stars in a way I never before imagined. These people are brilliant. At first, I felt way in over my head, but as the months have spooled out, I've slowly begun to see this giant 1,000-piece puzzle coalesce. I'm starting to make sense of it all. I'm beginning to get my bearings. And it fascinates me.

One of my goals in 2020 is to get certified as an astrologer through ISAR, but, thus far, my emails to various folks connected with the certification program have gone unanswered, This does not thwart me, however. Because the past year or so has made me tenacious, like a Jack Russell terrier going after a squirrel. So I'll keep asking the questions until I have a clear plan of attack for going forward with certification.  

I'm a certified tarot reader, have been for years. And tarot really relies much more on intuition than astrology. Astrology relies on math. Lots and lots of math. But also one needs to learn what the houses mean, the rulers of the houses, what each planet stands for and on and on and on. Tarot is open to much interpretation. Astrology has much more set parameters. And if you use this tool, you'd darned well better really know your onions. You need to know it well before you start hanging out a shingle. I want to work with both of these keys to the occult, to incorporate them meaningfully in my coaching, in my life, to the benefit of all.

So wish me luck. Yes, from my studies thus far I hear that a lot of the energies we're going through may come to a head in early January of 2020. I hope it's a soft landing for us all. And if  navigating the stars will act as a comfy down pillow to soften it all, then by all means, it's time to get out my zodiacal slide rule.

Hey! It's Mercury Retrograde! Hey! Chill out, you!

Hello, friends! It's been a couple of months since I last blogged - because I've been bogged down. Been thrown into the busyness of rehearsals for a fundraiser I'm directing and performing in this holiday season. It's a treat and a half, having a great time, but whoosh! Busy not only directing, but accumulating sheet music, recordings, commissioning orchestrations, getting all these materials to the cast, writing the script, editing the script I didn't write, plus making sure items the costumer has pulled actually fit the cast, making sure rehearsal spaces have been secured, scheduling the rehearsals, making sure every disparate piece of the equation of the show is slowly coming together. Plus being a cheerleader for the process; that's the easy part though, because it's a labor of love I'm creating in honor of a dear friend who passed in June who was instrumental in this little show happening in the first place.

Let's add to that the sprained ankle. My hubby and I went on an architecture tour thingy of an old church in a nifty, gentrifying area of Chicago we'd never explored before. I walked up to the altar to take a snap, then turned and saw something else I wanted to take a snap of - forgetting about the two little steps I took initially. As my Mom would say, "You sprained it but GOOD." And I did. It turned every color found in an autumnal garden. After just over two weeks, I'm finally being able to consider taking normal steps down a staircase, rather than doing this oddball sideways descent, somehow reminiscent of an elderly, nearsighted crab.

Ah, the joys of being sidelined. 

No, really. The Joys of Being Sidelined.

Being super busy with the musical revue has taught me a couple things. One, always lead with love. I knew this from past directorial endeavors, but it's really hitting this time. After my friend Steve passed, my co-conspirator for this production, I had more than a passing thought of, "Well, the show is done. How can I do this without him?" But the answer is of course, the show must go on. There is no other choice. So, while the process can be bittersweet at times, anxiety-inducing at others, what keeps me anchored is knowing that Steve still has a hand in this process, that the finished product will be a delightful romp - and a heartfelt ode.

It's also taught me that, while directing and performing are in my heart, work in coaching, tarot, astrology, and the metaphysical run parallel in my soul. By not being able to attend certain spirit-focused lectures and group activities, I realized just how important this work is for me. My goal for next year is to build and grow the coaching, blend it with tarot, and become a certified astrologer, combining all three disciplines to help people explore and deepen the meaning in their lives.

And the sprained ankle? Having to slow down to a hobble has really made me take time to consider the things above more deeply. If it wasn't for the imposed slowdown, I wouldn't have had the time to read, meditate, listen to enlightening podcasts, and start planning my next moves as far as career and spirit work. 

Oh yeah, Mercury retrograde. This one is in Scorpio. It's asking us to delve deeply, to psychically sink back and take stock of the last three weeks or so and glean the lessons from that time period. It's asking us to slow down and consider the gifts we've been given. Shift your pace, take your foot off the gas, don't run quickly to the next "pretty shiny" - you're likely to fall off a church. It's an astrological sideline which can be embraced, not feared.

Go to your favorite coffee house. Order a comforting beverage. Sit down, do some writing. And reflect on how, as of late,  life has actually given you some mighty fine lemons for your lemonade.

It's Virgo season. How will you Crane?

If you walked into my office, you wouldn't believe it's mine.

Most people know me as a pretty exacting personality. I used to be worse, but things change you after awhile. So I'm not as exacting. And when I say "exacting" I mean Type A. Or controlling. Or persnickety. But, like I said, things change you. I've mellowed out this part of me. Having lost a couple best friends in the last year, having health scares in the same year, having to deal with a senior dog who's forgotten her toileting manners - these things add up and you start to realize that sometimes finetoothcombing can cause more constriction than freedom, more pain trying to make things perfect rather than just allowing things to "be" and to breathe. You shift.

So it's interesting to see my office these days. The place I allow no one to enter. Truly. If someone needs something from my office, I jump up and say, "That's cool - I'll get it". Then run up the stairs to the office, open the door (it's always closed), enter and CLOSE THE DOOR BEHIND ME, then get said item, and go through the open door-close door process again. This all happens quickly, like I'm trying to keep some sort of horrible, squalid force lurking inside the room from lurching forth and terrorizing the countryside.

Truth: my office is quickly becoming "the space under the stairs". And I'm not talking about Harry Potter's bedroom.

Friends, it's Virgo season. And not only is it Virgo season, it's Super Strength Virgo Season*, with a stellium of planets nestled within its 30 degree span in the astrological wheel. Lots of Virgo energy is being activated, especially this week. Expect things to get cleaned out - even if you weren't necessarily planning to sweep them out. Also, Virgo triggers obsessive-compulsive activity. So, yeah, you'll be obsessing, you'll be cleaning, you'll be obsessing about cleaning, you'll be obsessing about the things being cleared out right under your nose. You will "Niles Crane" your chair before sitting. You'll "Niles Crane" your world - and watch Niles Cranian energy hurry in with a napkin before you know what's hit you.



So breathe with this. Know this energy is out there. And use it to your benefit. Don't allow it to rule you.

Back to my office. What is inside the depths, the dark door, the unseen crypt of shadows and tears, you may ask? Actually, what's in there is a lot of "almosts" and "shoulds". The poster I almost framed. The vintage items I should sell. The cards I almost sent. The creative projects I should really start.And they piled up or became lost because of life, because of set backs. But they still loom and they demand action. And none of these things will be embraced with creativity or passion, unless I "Crane Away". Unless I take my imaginary napkin and decide, for once and for all, which of the piles of almosts and shoulds are going to be "wills" and "cans" - and weed out those that no longer serve. Because that's working with Virgoian energy.

So, gentle friends, pull out the chair and give it a good cleaning. Not because you should, but because you will.

The New Moon in Leo - and what the Emperor might say about it.

With a majestic staff in hand, the Emperor gazes out with a relaxed strength and focus. Two children are seen in the background, and their stance gives us a sense that they're exploring and happy.

Now, what the heck does this have to do with the upcoming New Moon in Leo? And Mercury finally getting out of its nasty retrograde (which caused much disruption and gnashing of teeth)?

Well, plenty.

To begin, the Emperor is ruled by Aries, which is a Fire sign - so the card's element is Fire. Leo is also a Fire sign. With Mercury finally going direct and the New Moon in Leo, we are entering a period of super turbo-charged energy. You will feel invincible! You will want to clean the house, write the novel, move to the new home, start a new career, run for office, shift your paradigm; in essence you will want to BURN THE OLD DOWN.

Yippee!  Yahoo! Screaming yellow ZONKERS you are unstoppable, you little Heat Miser of activity and motion!! Yessiree! You are taking on the world like the entire familial unit of The Incredibles!!! With or without capes!

But guess what? The Emperor, in the same way he watches over the children pictured in this version of the Emperor card from The Witches tarot by Ellen Dugan, urges us to chilleth thyself out. Sure, we may feel wound up and ready to zip into action, and we should, but it's smart to plan, to strategize, to definitely aim for greatness, but to also watch ourselves so that our enthusiasm, our inner spark, doesn't burn us out before we get to ignite our hopes and desires. A more structured approach to our creative urges will help them play out in a more step-by-step way, rather than leaving us to flail about in our exuberance.

So trust the Emperor energy. A controlled fire will serve you best at this time.

New Moon in Leo: 7/31/19 at 10:12 PM Central time.

"Bell, Book, and Candle" on Mid-Mod Magic Monday!

A mid mod goddess

Greetings, fellow mystics, witches, and generally magical peoples. Today is a bit of a fresh beginning for my little blog - and a new focus for The Mid-Century Mystic, most particularly on Facebook (and sometimes Instagram). And it's been a long time coming.

See, before I came out of the broom closet, in the infancy days of The Mid-Century Mystic, I met with a great social media creatrix who I enlisted to help me put together a structured media campaign for all my disparate avenues of employ (voice-over, MCM, writing, etc.). And lots of it fell to the wayside (I hate Twitter and shall never Tweet and closed my account and basically spat at the screen as I closed it - PuhTOY!  good riddance to time-wastey rubbish). The one thing that she said when working with me was, "Why are you afraid of the Mystic webpage? It seems to be the one that lights you up the most?" Welp, I was afraid because, at the time, I wasn't confident with my magic and, more succinctly, I was afraid of what others would think. But as times are changing, and more magickal practices are being embraced rather than feared, I feel it's time, FINALLY, to bring back the focus to my social media plan with more blogging, more posts with purpose, heck - MORE MAGIC.

Yumminess on a plate. With bongos.

And so today, I begin bringing you more engaging content and (although I've avoided it for a myriad of reasons) specific types of posts for specific days. Blah, blah, blah - enough of the warm-up! Welcome to ...

#MidModMagicMonday !!!

And what better way to kick it off that with a little bit of trivia concerning "Bell, Book, and Candle", the quintessential Mid Mod witchy gem of a film from 1958, starring Kim Novak (yummy in each and every slick ensemble,every glint of her eyes, every silky move of her body), James Stewart (just yummy because James Stewart) and one of my favorite Mid-century actors, Jack Lemmon (playing bongos, stealing every scene, AND portraying a slightly sinister witch to boot. Be still my heart because the yumminess is heavy with this one!). Watch the splendor of his performance at the witchy Zodiac Club here .

But you're wanting your trivia, so here you go: apparently the phrase "bell, book, and candle"  "refers to a Latin Christian method of excommunication by anathema, imposed on a person who had committed an exceptionally grievous sin. Evidently introduced by Pope Zachary around the middle of the 8th century, the rite was once used by the Roman Catholic Church" according to Wikipedia.  It is opened with "Ring the bell, open the book, light the candle" and closed with "Ring the bell, close the book, quench the candle". I read the actual Latin translation and it's fire and brimstone ugly stuff here. But I find it interesting that the phrase and ritual are quite reminiscent of opening and closing the circle in many types of witchcraft rituals.


Spoiler alert (if you haven't seen the film): when Gillian, Kim Novak's character, loses her powers because she falls in love, shows emotion, cries (something witches apparently can't do - well, I'm here to tell you otherwise), I wonder if that's why this particular phrase was chosen for the play and film, She essentially excommunicates herself from her powers, she loses them because the pull of mortal love is stronger than her magic. And that element of the film always made me sad, In my belief system and my use of magic, love and magic are part and parcel of the same.
Perhaps I'll get a chance to direct the play at some point. Or, better yet, be cast in it (Sadly, I'm beyond my Gillian years, but there are other juicy, witchy roles within it). And I'll remind the cast and crew that to truly bring the play alive, love AND magic must marry to create the most potent potion of them all.

Love and Magic

How to use the tarot for things other than those considered "ookie, kooky, or spooky"

What a fascinating article in Teen Vogue (a magazine which keeps surprisingd me and raising the bar on what teen journalism can be: https://www.teenvogue.com/story/how-tarot-cards-are-used-to-help-mental-health

I've been saying this for years now - and utilizing it in coaching as well. The beautiful imagery of the tarot (especially the work of Pamela Colman Smith) is universal and evocative. The images resonate with us all, no matter our belief system.

Of course, they're used in divination, and I find them a gateway into the deeper messages I'm receiving from my guides as I read. But they can be used as, to put it in simpler terms, "imagery flash cards". And, when used in that vein, they act as a key into the psyche, sometimes hitting upon triggering imagery, other times reminding us of messages from our past that are comforting, inspiring.

Some nifty ways I use them without the proverbial "crystal ball":

The Four-Card "Story" for the Month: I especially like pulling a variety of cards from several decks and looking for a connection between them. I place them on my altar and meditate on them, seeing how the imagery "hits", how the cards relate to one another. I find it especially helpful to do this at the beginning of the month. This series of cards acts as touchstones for the next four weeks.

It's Elemental: Another thing that's really inspiring is to pick from four different decks (sometimes I even use oracle decks in this mix, not just tarot) and pull a card for each of the four elements. I place these on my altar by the corresponding elemental direction. Then I ask what I should be aware of in the upcoming month regarding the element, under the lens of the card.

Une Carte: And let us not forget the one-card daily pull. Confession time: I often do this using my tarot phone app, but nothing beats the tactile act of pulling from an actual, physical deck. And then I ask myself, "What is this card nudging me to focus on for the day?" Hm. Today's card was the 4 of Cups, reminding me to keep myself open to the possibility of a gift coming from a surprising place.

Huh.

This time, it wasn't necessarily something to focus on; it was prophetic. I got a free cookie at the coffeehouse I'm writing at, and a friend offered me a very generous gift for free.  Whoa.

Okay, folks. Here I am writing about the non-divinatory aspects of the tarot, and whomp! the tarot keeps reminding me that magic is real - and part and parcel of my path. Which, actually, brings me back to the 4 of Cups' imagery, featuring this dude almost sleeping through the offering of a gift from the universe. The gift, for me, is the reminder that magic IS real - and it's what I DO. I can't afford to be asleep, to take it for granted. And it's important for me to remember that, even through the day-to-day stuff, the schedules and plans and ups and downs and memories and new things set in motion.

Lesson learned, cards. Lesson learned.

Disneyland on Beltane. Well, in theory.

The trip almost didn't happen. Actually, looking back on it now almost two weeks ago, it probably shouldn't have. My hubby had the flu, was still recuperating when our plane took off at stupid o'clock on May 1st. Then, en route, I started feeling off. Which, of course, only meant one thing: I picked up the same upper respiratory crud he had. And so I did. And we walked around Disneyland, our Mother Ship, the source for so much magic and purpose for my work, like stuffy-headed zombies, until our hotel room was ready. At which point, I collapsed in a heap on the bed and didn't move much at all until the next day. So, to cut to the chase, my plans for a magical Beltane at Disneyland were dashed.

Well, sorta. Because you push through things like this.

May 2nd, the next day. I figured the fae at the park (and, boy oh boy, there are a few), wouldn't be exactly flipping calendar pages if I did my magical work there the next day. And so I did. Because it was our wedding anniversary, the main reason for our visit, and I was not about to let a blooming upper respiratory disaster squelch our fun or my work.

I had purchased a small specimen of fairy amethyst the previous week at Crystal Life Technologies, a wonderful crystal shop about 40 minutes from my house. I muscle tested and found the exact right one. No, this is not a photo of my crystal. But THIS is. If you look closely, you can see it:

See that little whitish jobbie that's slightly conical? Yep, that's my fairy crystal, given as a little gift* to the Little Man of Disneyland. I wrote about his legend in my book, "The Mystical Mouse", but a quick summary: this plucky little leprechaun is the protagonist of a children's book that was written as Disneyland was being built and he shows up a little frustrated and cranky because Disney is plowing down the orange tree groves to build the park. But he is assured that he will always have a home and that the past will always be respected at the park. His home can be found to this day by a special tree in Adventureland, pictured above.

I felt it was particularly important to honor The Little Man at this time, on Beltane, but also because the park is in the midst of a shake-up of sorts. Star Wars Land is opening very soon and with its opening will come a whole new slew of guests who are there specifically to enter that brilliant new land. I'm afraid some of the quieter, sweeter, more magical elements and areas of the park might be glossed over. Certain things might be considered "quaint" and of an older time and might not be respected as much as the glamour of touring the Millenium Falcon or quaffing a sapphire blue cocktail at the Star Wars Cantina.

Our anniversary visit continued, with dinner in New Orleans Square, with a visit to Tinkerbell, to Snow White's Grotto (big magic therein) - and some quick shopping and even quicker ride visiting. Then I took to our hotel room, sleeping through the next day, and making it through the airport the next day as weak as a newborn kitten. A sickly, newborn kitten.

Was our experience still magical? Yes. Did I do the work I had set out to do? Just barely, but yes. Would we push through such a trip in the future? No way, Jose Carioca. But was it important to do the little bit of ceremony I did do and do I feel it added to the spirit of place and left good will, honoring What Really Matters? Yes. Yes, indeed.

Blessed be, Disneyland. May your new chapter be happy and filled with light and The Force.


* I did a speedy little ceremony with the crystal, thanked The Little Man, assured him he mattered, then snatched up the crystal; Disney does not endorse guests leaving things in the park and I respect that.