Helping others through the use of my psychic and clairvoyant abilities gives me great joy. With over 15 years professional experience in the field i have helped hundreds of clients to answer their questions on love, life and destiny. I have a compassionate, but honest approach to my readings and always like my clients to feel that their questions are being answered clearly.
This book has had a long gestation – it’s been taking form within the cauldron of my inner world for a few years now. Ideas for a book, principally about the process of accessing our own internal wisdom have swirled around, bubbling up from time to time from the depths of my cauldron, but nothing took on a firm shape. Until one day very recently when the title ‘The Hermit’s Lantern’ emerged, and with it, quite spontaneously, an image of the framework upon which to shape the book.
Know Thyself’ - a concept implicit in the philosophy of probably all of the wisdom and spiritual traditions of the world over time. Yet what we now know, thanks to the inroads made by psychology into the workings of the human mind, is that the mysteries of the subconscious can make that process of self-knowledge a little complicated. This is where I find the tarot helps enormously, as it is a sophisticated tool which allows us to get a glimpse of what might be happening in that mysterious subconscious world of ours.
We’ve had all manner of tarot and oracle readings over time in our Connections magazine, but for something a little different this month, I thought I’d share some intuitive wisdom from the ‘Faerie Oracle’. The images are by Brian Froud - somewhat of an expert when it comes to depicting our friends from the Fey world!
One of the most challenging situations we encounter in life is how to handle the feelings involved when it's time to let go of something or someone who has been important to us. This is the message of the Eight of Cups. If you're physically with your reader, or doing a tarot reading for yourself, this is one of those cards which can spark, at the very least, deep feelings of sadness. The imagery used in most decks is evocative, to say the least!
There is a Scottish Gaelic word that describes the depths of winter: an dubhach, “the gloom”. However, the majesty of winter can be considered far from gloomy. There is a time for activity and there is a time for quietness. Try this meditation on or around the solstice - observe the silent earth, the sleeping seed, and marvel at the lengthening of days. Be inspired by the earth around you, and plant seeds of your own. This meditation will help to put you in tune to the energies of the season: the need for reflection and the power of awakening...
Well we’ve come to one of my favourite times of the year - and not just simply because my inner child enjoys the playfulness of fireworks, and another chance to be allowed to be silly on Halloween!
In all seriousness, I love this time of year because more than at any other time, the inner realms, and the mysteries of life, seem to come to the fore in the collective consciousness. Nature seems to slow down, especially once the leaves have fallen - they seem to absorb some of the noise which is ever present in our world. And although we have long, dark, nights ahead, at least there’s the comfort of being able to gaze meditatively into a fire when the nights close in.
Do you ever have the luxury of just listening to the stillness? Try if you can to do so this month. It’s an amazing experience. Be prepared - at first, you’re likely to find your mind jumping all over the place. But persevere! This isn’t the same as meditating - it’s almost a case of simply allowing your mind to wander for a little while, until it can settle and focus on the quiet.
And in the quiet is where you’ll find the stillness! I’m not mixing up my words - I’m suggesting that you consciously focus on the stillness of the earth, and especially so at night time, during the coming season. You might need to wait until it’s quite late, depending on where you live. But certainly do try it.
I can remember when I realized there was a significant difference between being aware of the quiet of night, and being aware of the stillness - it’s breathtakingly beautiful. Let it seep into your bones. And if you’re fortunate enough to do so on a clear night, with a full, or almost full moon, the experience will be even more profound. I’m sure you’ll experience something incredibly peaceful and nourishing - just what we all need towards the end of another busy year.
Have a great month!
Right from my first encounters with the Tarot, I’ve found it to be an incredibly rich and mysterious tool. Whilst it can be used for a myriad of purposes, I find its most powerful use is as a way to engage in a dialogue with our own inner world. This is, of course, especially so at this time of the year - a time which calls to us to be still and quiet, to turn inwards, to nourish and heal and replenish our own personal resources.
There is one card in the Tarot which, in itself, embodies the archetype we need to call upon for this process, to confidently navigate our inner world - the being who brings a light to guide the way inwards - the Hermit, or in the Wildwood Tarot, the Hooded Man.
Don’t be fooled into associating popular 21st century cultural images with this archetype - this is no smelly old person with cats! He, or she, is wisdom personified!
Quieten your mind; slow your breathing; notice how straight away some of the tension you’re probably carrying begins to ebb away. Imaging that you, too, are rugged up - cloaked against the cold of your own anxieties and doubts; you, too are carrying a light which cannot ever be extinguished, even when you’re asleep, or, just like now, as you slip into a different state of consciousness.
I find myself moving forwards in my imagination, as I gaze at the image. There is a softer light coming from the door in the tree, and it casts a soft glow on the snow before my feet. It does seem to be quite inviting - so I take my lantern and walk towards the haven of the tree.
There is indeed a fire within this space; it’s warm, and still, and completely safe. There are rugs on the floor, and a cosy chair. I feel completely at ease in this space. Its definitely still got the feeling of a tree, but unlike any tree I have encountered before. There is every shade of green, from rich moss colours to an almost steel grey- green; and there are golden browns, rich russet tones - every possible colour of autumn. It’s as if the life force of the tree itself is spread out before me, sharing itself, seeping into my very marrow.
As I relax more and more, I feel myself sinking into my chair. I’m certainly not asleep, but I am very, very relaxed, and moving into yet another layer of consciousness.