Witches' New Year -- Reassessing our goals

Samhain marks the mid-point of the Air Tide (the period between Autumn Equinox and Winter Solstice). The Air Tide, to me, is the 'season of the witch' -- it is a season of winds, swirling leaves, rustling treetops, electric storms, hanging mists, and glorious sunsets. At this time of year, I invariably find myself studying, reading, and immersing myself in learning projects. This sort of thing reaches a kind of zenith around the middle of the season, at Samhain, one of the four Celtic fire festivals (agricultural festivals). So this is the reason, for me, that I consider this the 'Witches' New Year'. We remember absent friends and family, particularly those who have passed beyond this veil. Also, in the old Celtic calendar, Samhain marked the beginning of winter, and I believe that is another reason some consider this festival a 'New Year'.

All I know is, this time of year always sees me feeling stirred up in many ways. I take stock of my direction, where I've come from and where I'm heading.

The advice here is to review past goals and set new ones. So...let's see what the cards have to say about this. I've asked five questions, in honour of the five-pointed star: 

1. What should I know about my past goals? Page of Swords

2. Which goals should I keep in the new year? 4 of Coins

3. Which goals should I abandon? 5 of Coins

4. What new direction should I go in? Devil

5. What can I do to support achieving my goals both old and new? 4 of Cups 

Lovers' Tarot, Jane Lyle 

 My past goals were mostly in my head and never got off the ground. The goals I should keep are those focused on maintaining the status quo in the material plane. I should abandon the goal of trying to feel comfortable in the material plane -- by that I mean, the goal of NOT feeling like 5 of Pentacles. Uncertainty is okay. In fact, I found a song about it yesterday. I'll just share it here:




'Be like a bird who, halting in her flight
On a limb too slight, feels it give way beneath her,
Yet sings, sings, knowing she has wings,
Yet sings, sings, knowing she has wings.'

(This turns out to be based on a quotation by Victor Hugo: 'Let us be like a bird for a moment perched on a frail branch when he sings; though he feels it bend, yet he sings his song, knowing that he has wings.')

Life is precarious; it is not certain. We long to feel that there is a solid foundation beneath us, but there is not. At any time we could lose a loved one, we could lose a livelihood, we could lose our health. But  whatever falls from under us, we won't plunge to our destruction. We can survive whatever ground or support disappears from beneath our feet.

What new direction can I go in? The Devil tells me to say 'F*ck it.' In fact, I just checked out a book from the library last week called 'F*ck It: The Ultimate Spiritual Way', by John C. Parkin. 'Up there so high in our Perspective Machine,' he writes, 'we realize our lives are just like that of a firefly. Except the air is full of seven billion fireflies. They're glowing beautifully for one night. Then they're gone. So f*ck it, you might as well REALLY glow. And there we go. Did you taste it? That was the brief taste of freedom. Sometimes it doesn't last very long, but it's an unforgettable taste. Personally, I've always tasted it when I've contemplated the utter meaninglessness of my own existence. It's a rush of freedom and it tastes good. If my life means so little, then F*ck It, I might as well go for it and just have a laugh.'

So how can I support this new devilish F*ck It philosophy? Refuse to be upset by trifles. The number 4 means 'things stay the same', and if Cups represent emotions, then that shows a pretty stable emotional response. Four of Cups in fact may be the ultimate F*ck It card. Four has the elemental affinity of Fire so 4 of Cups is Fire of Water. It takes an active choice to decide to say 'F*ck it.'  :)

Well, at least I've got my new motto for the year.