A giant Tree of Life diagram was painted on the blackboard, with pegs on the interconnecting paths between sephiroth. An unseen teacher handed me the Major Arcana of an unidentified tarot deck. The cards had holes in them so they could be hung from the pegs.
My assignment was to hang the cards on the proper pegs. I had caught myself hanging the Fool, the Magician, and the Empress when I suddenly became lucid in the dream.
Bitterly, I placed the deck on a nearby stand and started to walk away. “This isn’t where I belong. We’ve gone over this already. And after this evening, I really don’t think losing myself in someone else’s paradigm is going to help me.”
The unseen teacher scooped up the deck and shoved them back in my hands. “It will help you focus, and get over your indulgent pity-party.”
I threw the deck on the floor. “My focus is the cause of many a self-inflicted injury. You forgot how I shut out the world and contrary opinion once I decide on a thing. I know all the signs point to me attempting the Path of Cheth, but even in my delusion I know daring the Abyss is not safe in the best of conditions. In my madness, it’s intellectual suicide. And I need my wits, thank you very fucking much.”
“At least complete the diagram.” I heard the cards being picked up off the floor.
“According to who? You know how many different schools of thought differ on just the appearance of the Tree of Life, much less how the cards are mapped to it? Hell, there’s a few dozen books mapping the difference between the Golden Dawn and Crowley alone! Fuck it. Let someone with more resources settle this fuckery. I don’t belong here!” The further I walked away, the dimmer the ambient light surrounded me.
I heard a card tapped on the blackboard. “Fine. I’ll finish it. Let’s see. The Emperor hangs… here.” I heard the card rattling against the peg and it set my teeth on edge.
My fierce and stormy departure came to a complete halt. Even though I was facing the outer darkness I knew where the unseen teacher had hung the card. And it was annoying me. I kept telling myself that it doesn’t matter. That it was the result of a cock fight between two nutters. That I’ve had both paradigms beaten over my head with the label of exclusion. I was an intruder in a space I did not belong in. It shouldn’t matter!
“Tzaddi is not the Star.” No amount of grinding my teeth prevented the words from slipping out.
I could feel the unseen teacher’s glee at my muttering. “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”
“All these are right, but tzaddi is not the star. You put the Emperor in the wrong place.” I shifted uncomfortably in my stance, but I did not turn around.
“It’s only one of many ways to consider the universe. Does it matter? It’s not your paradigm, after all. What does it matter to you?”
I thought many a murderous and barbarous thought in my head, but chewed my tongue to remain respectful because it was impolite to visit such brutality on a teacher. I clenched my fists in vicious anger but managed to say nothing. The teacher was correct. It wasn’t my paradigm and I had no horse in this race. Nothing stopped me from leaving. And the matter was one of the more contentious points of difference in that bag of mixed nuts called ceremonial magic. It doesn’t matter. Not my life, not my path. I was kicked off that platform with prejudice years ago. It doesn’t matter to me anymore. Right?
Growling, I turned around and forcefully stepped back to the blackboard. Snatching the Emperor off the peg connecting Chokmah to Tiphareth, I placed it lower on the Tree of Life, on the peg connecting Netzach to Yesod. “AHH! FUCK ALL THIS! Tzaddi is not the fucking star and the image on the Thoth’s Emperor was never updated to reflect the change so the light on the Emperor is coming from the wrong place and why the fuck am I remembering all this now when it’s NOT! MY! PROBLEM! FUCK!”
I meant to slam my fist on the blackboard. My hand closed around the rest of the still unidentified deck. “How about placing the others, love. Since you know more about this than you thought you did.”
Love? Fucking ‘love’? Fuck this anglo motherfucker! I hurled the rest of the deck into the outer darkness. As the cards fluttered about I identified the deck involved. I wanted to laugh since that particular deck would be the answer to a simmering question of mine. I was too busy being pissed at the sudden English accent taken up by the unseen teacher.
“Hang ‘em ya damn seph, ya limey wanka’! I ‘ope someone pisses in y’tea and calls it lemon juice!”
I stormed away from the blackboard with my vigor heated by the peals of laughter from the unseen teacher. As the darkness swallowed my cognition, I made a note to myself not to take the dream’s bait. I can not allow myself to be swallowed up by another obsession. I need my feet on the ground and my wits in my head.