Truth be told: keep the good, the bad and the ugly in divination


When we look into the future, the future looks back. And whoever blinks first loses. (Image by Gert Altmann via Pixabay.)

I was going over everything I wrote for this blog so far, and noticed that I had mentioned geomancy a few times, but never really explained what it is. So let’s fix that.

Basically, geomancy is a binary system of divination: a question is asked, and in response, random numbers are generated (traditionally by making marks in sand or on paper, but dice and playing cards work. as well). These numbers are broken down into even and odd numbers, represented by a colon or a dot, arranged in a series of numbers and inserted into an astrological chart.

The graph is interpreted based on the individual meanings of the digits, their positions, and how they interact with each other, to get one of three types of answers:

  • “Yes No.”
  • “Yes / no, and here’s why. “
  • “Yes / no, and in this essay, I will …”

And even if you only look at a bunch of dots, a story becomes clear, with its own intro, exposure, climax, and conclusion.

In theory, geomantic divination looks a lot like this scene in The matrix, or Zero explains the stream of strange green symbols on his screen: “I can’t even see the code. All I see is blonde, brunette, redhead. But in practice it’s like this scene in Lady in the water, where a room full of panicked people clings to the words of a small child who has been tasked with delivering a crucial message in a life or death situation, but must do so (spoiler alert) by interpreting the footage on cereal boxes.

It can get a bit overwhelming. (Image by Gert Altmann via Pixabay.)

Luckily for my stress level, my friend Sam runs an educational geomancy forum, where people post graphics and then we have a heated discussion about them. I don’t comment very often – I mean, I have some talent and minimal skill, but Sam and some of the other group members can geomancer circles (or, more specifically, squares) around me, so I mostly stay out of their way.

But the other day someone asked, “Why Amissio reinforced in the Second house of a geomantic map? And I was like, Ooh! I would like to buy a vowel and solve the puzzle, Tap Sat !

“The Second House represents value, earnings, material wealth, etc. ” I said. “Amissio means ‘loss’, so when he appears in the second house, he has a pretty undeniable meaning – that’s why he’s reinforced.”

“So ‘reinforced in Seconde’ means ‘a particularly notorious loss’? “

“I would say yes. Or a big loss.

“Ah, OK!” the OP responded. “I understood that ‘reinforced’ meant ‘This is a good place for this character’ and therefore something favorable. But this is actually a bad thing for the seeker, since the Second House is associated with Taurus, and Amissio (Venusian in nature) has all the resources he needs in this position to fully manifest his core meaning, loss.


Portrait of the author, with a head for geomancy and a body for the casual office. (Image by Gert Altmann via Pixabay.)

And then a random group member jumped into the conversation and announced, “Amissio is a sign of growth and coming together, not of emptiness. It represents a harvest time.

And I have so mad, you all. And it takes a parcel for something on the internet to make me angry (which, considering some of the hate messages I’ve received since starting this blog, says a lot about my fortitude).

Call it a pet peeve or control issues or whatever, but I lose my tenuous hold on patience whenever the negative connotations are removed from the divinatory archetypes. A friend of mine once bought a Celtic-style tarot deck, in which the Devil the card had been replaced by “The Green Man”. There was no devil in paganism, the game’s creator explained in the accompanying guide, so there was no need for such a card in tarot. The Green Man – symbolizing the bounty of nature and gentle, fatherly guidance – was even more appropriate.

We wonder how the Green Man relates to the obsessions and addictions foretold by the Devil, but we sincerely hope that translates into “You’re right?! I learned it by watching you!

In your FB group kill your Amissio.

Symbols have meanings, and those meanings have power, and we accept that ignoring symbolic warnings in the “real” world has consequences (as anyone who has turned a red light in front of a cop can attest). But the logic that prevents us from doing that is nowhere to be found when we post on Facebook like, “A bird walked into my house yesterday, and I know that traditionally that means there will be a death in the family, but does anyone know if that might make a positive sense instead? Also, the bird killed my dog.

When reading for other people, I only once left out the negative meanings of a geomantic figure, and while it didn’t bite my ass per se, it made the situation a lot more uncomfortable for me and the applicant. . And it was a difficult but necessary lesson in the roles and responsibilities of the geomancer: Attempting to protect an applicant from what the dots are trying to tell him will not magically lead to a favorable outcome.

Here is that story.

A local occult store decided to hold a psychic fair, and I volunteered to be a reader. I was seated behind a folding table, clutching my deck of geomancy cards and feeling quite professional, when this guy walked around and asked for a read.

“Hello! I am definitely a professional. How can I help you with your spiritual dilemmas today?” (Image by Gert Altmann via Pixabay.)

I gave him a brief but in-depth explanation of geomantic divination, and asked what specific situation he would like to discuss. There weren’t any, he said. He just wanted a general reading. I squeaked a bit inside.

Even in the most casual of circumstances, I don’t like giving blanket readings. It’s all too easy to let them turn into metaphysical dog and pony shows. You end up telling people things they already know about themselves, and they leave quite impressed with your Mighty Psychic Abilities®, which is by no means helpful or satisfying unless you plan to settle down. as a New Age guru. (I do not.)

Now here is a way of interpreting a geomantic map to answer a question the asker doesn’t want to vocalize, but this guy was adamant: no questions, nothing in particular he wanted to know, just general reading, please. Resigning myself, I shuffled my deck, drew the first card, and …

Boo. (Image by Gert Altmann via Pixabay.)

Rubeus. The overturned goblet; the darkening censer. The applicant is dishonest.

Not the most auspicious of introductions.

Historically, there are several ways to react when Rubeus is leading a reading. The Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn recommends destroying the map and refusing to attempt another divination for several hours, but that sounds a bit melodramatic to me. Instead, I paused for a second, pondered the basic meanings of the figure, and told him he was passionate, but reserved. He agreed, and with that out of the way, we started to work our way around the chart.

Finances, good. Home life, good. Children, fine. Health, very good: Laetitia in House VI, joy and happiness, vitality, solid constitution, and also a little luck.

Considering the long, debilitating flu season in Houston and the overall quality of our air, I mentioned that there was a chance he was exposed to something and fought it off before symptoms. does not develop, or that it has simply been exposed to nothing, even if the people around it were.

He didn’t respond to that, so I continued.

“Lying to the geomancer, right?” TTT … TTT. “(Image by Gert Altmann via Pixabay.)

Romantic, doubtful relationships. Travel possibilities, decent. Then we got to the quarry, and I realized I had completely miscalculated that area of ​​the graph, which was more than embarrassing – I was supposed to be a professional. So I was rearranging the numbers and trying to figure out where I went wrong and had a slight panic attack when he asked, “Do you want to know what I do for a living? “

“Of course,” I say. And he told me.

Employed by a local energy company. Work of blue collar workers, mainly laying pipes. Liked his job, but recently several colleagues had fallen ill. Really ill. Two had cancer. Another had died.

“I was worried that we were all exposed to something carcinogenic and that I could get sick too,” he said, pointing to the Sixth House character. “But then, after what you said … I’m just relieved.”

Books, websites, and correspondence courses don’t prepare you for this stuff.

They don’t prepare you for an applicant who is so afraid of what might happen that they have chosen to be told their fortune rather than see a doctor.

They don’t prepare you for the overwhelming urge to grab someone by the front of their shirt and scream, “Go see a fucking doctor NOW. “

My geomantic poker face. (Image by Gert Altmann via Pixabay.)

But at the same time, you are not where you are to give your own opinion on the situation, or to advise, or to beg, or to plead. You are there to interpret what the cards / runnes / dominoes / innards have to say, and to convey that information to the person sitting across from you, and to accept that it is. their work to find out what to do next. Not yours.

Anyway, I finished reading. The guy thanked me, left a donation (non-tax deductible) and left. On the one hand, I’m glad he heard what he wanted to hear – not all readings turn out like this. On the other hand, I continue to hope that he took what he heard with a grain of salt, and went on to do what he could to ensure his well-being.

True divination is the art of understanding that “right” does not always mean “right”.

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