(To read more about this spread, click HERE. To read my review of this deck, click HERE.)
1. Storyteller (The Grandmother)
2. Four of Spirals (A Luna Gathering)
3. Six of Mirrors (The Fairy Folk)
4. Eight of Spirals (Lord of the Forest and Ancestors)
5. The Mime (Hushed Memories)
6. The Muse (Queen of Heaven and Mother of Good Counsel)
With Storyteller (The Hermit) as the centerpiece, I surround her with the other five cards (face up) in a clockwise, circular pattern using the order above.
I silence and center my mind, then draw five additional cards and place them beside council cards in the order I drew them. What I hope to glean from a council ritual reading:
1. Synchronicity inspired by ancestors
2. Repressed memories in need of healing
3. Deeper understanding of myself and my kinship with the Otherworld
For the interpretation of this reading, in some cases, I am choosing to include direct quotations from the Chrysalis Tarot booklet written by Toney Brooks. These quotations are, as one might expect, placed in quotation marks.
The Storyteller (Wisdom, Contemplation) calls the Council together, her sacred healing orb glowing in her hands. “The time is favorable for quiet solitude.”
TEN OF SPIRALS (Crossroads)
In Solitude I contemplate a Crossroads within myself – a point, a place, a time when I need to make a life-changing choice. Will I continue to allow “bound up bundles of negative energy” to burden me, or will I “lighten my load” and “choose the high road”? The message is clear: “Don’t play the blame game; put the past behind you and don’t look back.” In Solitude, I am thinking on this. (It is no coincidence that the Ten of Spirals depicts a centaur, the symbol of my Sun Sign, Sagittarius…)
LOVERS (Unity, Oneness)
An Irish Sidhe, or nature spirit – perhaps an ancestor of mine -- plays a bewitching tune on the pipes as I stand among fragrant, colorful flowers, gazing at six reflecting pools. The six “mirrors” show me memories from different time periods: childhood, teens, twenties, thirties, forties, fifties… The music becomes discordant at times, at times joyful, at times maudlin. If I am still and patient and loving toward myself, soon the creatures of the forest will gather around, encouraging me, helping me reconcile inner conflicts, celebrating the harmony and unity that can exist as my memories flow together into one large pool that is Me. And the Irish Sidhe begins a new tune to which I may dance as I move forward on my life journey. (As I understand it, many of my ancestors were, indeed, Irish, although whether they were Sidhe or not isn’t clear…)
THE PILGRIM / PAGE OF SCROLLS (Perseverance, Endurance)
Of the Eight of Spirals, Toney Brooks writes:
“In working with ancestral subtle energy and the Ancestral Council, we seek to cultivate a "heaven to earth" resonance that, to a degree, already exists between you and your ancestors. Whatever that degree actually is depends upon you and your receptivity. And whatever that may be, this ritual is designed to increase its resonance.
"This resonance is best symbolized by the energy of the Eight of Spirals, Lord of the Ancestors. (The magnificent sika red stag originated in the dense forests of central Asia. He is the ancestor of all deer, including the elk.) As his image (top) suggests, the product of this resonance isn't sound, it's fleeting synchronicity. Like deer in dense forests, most synchronicity zooms by unnoticed. When observed, it is magical inspiration is channeled through your Third Eye. This is symbolized by eight shooting stars. Remember, the Otherworld's silent language is spoken with signs, symbols and memories so one has to be alert.”
The Pilgrim (Page of Scrolls) is a Troupe card. Brooks tells us: “Troupe members among the five drawn cards likely represent real people, perhaps even ancestors. When interpreting your reading, don't forget to give consideration to Troupe Spirit Animals.”
A Hunter’s Moon looms large against the night sky as I stand at the edge of a magical forest, watching a red stag leap through the dense thicket. “The Hunter’s Moon, also known as the Blood Moon, marks a time when ancestral energy from the Otherworld reaches its highest peak.” Random thoughts… peculiar dreams… instinct… intuition… shooting stars. The Pilgrim approaches, accompanied by a llama who “symbolizes inner peace that comes from waving goodbye to creature comforts and the security of home, at least for a while.” The Pilgrim’s expression is wary, uncertain. Just above and ahead of her flitters an exotic butterfly, a symbol of new life. The Pilgrim has left the castle behind to pursue this creature.
In The Pilgrim I see many of my ancestors who literally left their homes in Europe to come to the New World. They came from Ireland, England, Germany, Bohemia… at different times, in different ways, for different reasons. They certainly demonstrated The Pilgrim’s attributes – perseverance and endurance.
The Pilgrim is clothed in my favorite color, purple, a color of power, royalty, imagination, and mystery. As a messenger, she challenges me to do as my ancestors did – to travel beyond my current state, experience, and mindset – beyond what is known and comfortable and secure. This journey of “interior self-discovery” will be well worth the time, effort, and courage it requires.
THE ARTISTE / Queen of Stones (Spiritual, Magnetic)
Two Troupe cards come together as The Mime meets The Artiste. Yet, placed side by side, the figures on these two cards do not really “come together,” do they? The Mime gazes outward at me, her ram by her side. The Artiste focuses on the painting she is creating as a butterfly watches. Butterflies appear in the upper right corners of both cards, reminding me of the message I received from The Pilgrim.
“Like a ram, [The Mime] batters loose the memories of past experiences and returns them to mindfulness. The Mime then provides support to reconcile these memories through compassionate listening and sound advice.” The Artiste “imparts prophetic wisdom” as she charts my progress “with brush strokes of wise and sensible advice.”
I recognize The Mime as a spirit that has always been strong within me – carefree, droll, impish. Like The Pilgrim, she is a Messenger, sent by the Otherworld to soothe and support my psyche.
I also recognize The Artiste, who is “painting my path through a tranquil grove of ash trees.” Like The Artiste, I am multi-talented, although I create with words, music, and gemstones instead of paint. Known in traditional Tarot decks as the Queen of Pentacles, this card is one that I often choose as my Significator, with her connection to the sign Sagittarius and the element Earth, both of which are prominent in my birth chart.
THREE OF MIRRORS (Compassion)
The Queen of Spirals is described in this deck as “a maternal presence or your inner voice – the stream of consciousness that knows you better than you know yourself.” Accompanied by a gentle fawn, she is said to appear “in times of difficulty or indecision.” As the Queen of the element Fire, she is also linked with my Sun Sign, Sagittarius, a Fire sign. In the upper left corner of her card, I see the face of a cat, a face that is enlarged and emboldened on the Three of Mirrors as a lion. The gentle fawn on the Queen of Spirals is echoed by the lamb in the Three of Mirrors.
The lion and the lamb “symbolize a harmonious sense of self-acceptance.” The message is clear: “Do No Harm.” If the Queen of Spirals is a “mothering” presence, the Three of Mirrors is the presence of a loving family and friends. The various elements of my inner Self can certainly be described as “family” to each other, but are they friends as well? The Three of Mirrors reminds me of the Strength card in that it depicts a lion in peaceful harmony with a gentle, nonaggressive creature (the lady/the lamb). The day when all of my inner “Selves” can enjoy each other’s company and offer mutual support is indeed a day worth celebrating.
And now the Storyteller nods to indicate that she has heard what I have confided in her. She and the other Council members have helped me draw my hidden fears, hopes, and desires up into my conscious awareness. The Storyteller lifts her crown of ferns and places it on my head to as a token of sincerity and friendship. In turn, I offer these two things to her – and to myself.
