Mystery and Mastery

February 1st, 2012

At this time last year, I decided to join an organization called Shibumi International Reiki Association. This group was developed by Frans and Bronwen Stiene, who run the International House of Reiki and teach Usui Reiki Ryôhô, which is one of the Reiki lineages I am trained in. As a member, in addition to upholding the Vision, Mission and Philosophy of Shibumi, I also agreed to uphold their Codes of Practice, which includes, among a great many other things, the requirement that members not use the term Reiki Master. As the Shibumi website puts it, “The term Reiki Master is not utilized by Shibumi members due to the understanding that one does not master Reiki (spiritual energy).”

That’s simple enough and certainly makes sense. So why did I go through such inner turmoil over making the change?

I had worked hard to earn my title of Reiki Master. I took the first two levels as directed by my teacher, went through an emotional and energetic clearing process and regularly traded sessions with a friend. I didn’t pursue the Master and Teacher levels until almost two years after my initial training. I meditated regularly, practiced the precepts, worked with the symbols. I sought out monthly Reiki shares with other practitioners who shared my belief that Reiki was a quiet and meditative practice. Then three years later I trained again, this time in the Usui Reiki Ryôhô traditional Japanese style of Reiki. I constantly sought to learn more, experience a deeper connection to the Reiki energy, and become a better practitioner by stepping aside and allowing the energy to do the work.

And yet here I was, ego-attached to a word. A word that now had to be excised from my business cards, my website, my bios, my being. I didn’t want to give up that title! And of course that recognition is what made me realize how important it was to give it up.

I felt like I was losing a part of myself.

The Shibumi website suggested that I use the phrase Reiki Teacher instead. That was a bit of a relief, because the title of Teacher was always the highest level one could attain in Reiki. I pondered that carefully—in some ways it seemed to be the only thing that could smooth my ruffled ego.

But as I contemplated it further, I began to ask myself, what does it mean to be a master? If we say we’ve mastered something, doesn’t it usually follow that we have nowhere further to go? That we have accomplished all that there is to accomplish? I certainly did not feel that way about Reiki. I knew this path would continue to reveal much to me. In fact, isn’t that what I liked about teaching? I loved to teach because I always learned so much! To me, the title Teacher meant that I was always a student, always seeking, learning, revisiting, expanding. Quite the opposite of mastering! Yes, I thought, I can do this. I can leave behind the word master and call myself the perpetual student, secretly hidden in the verbal guise of Teacher.

I changed my business cards, website and bios. My being was lighter, stronger and more authentic now that the superfluous term of Master had been stripped away.

I should write a blog post on this amazing process I thought, and that way everyone will know that I’m actually a Reiki Master!

Luckily, I immediately recognized this sneaky little Hail Mary from the ego, and heroically restrained myself.

But now, a year later, I have gone to dozens of Reiki practice and meditation groups, meditated alone and with others, given four public Reiki talks, taught two Shoden classes, two Okuden classes, and two Shinpiden classes, worked with dozens of clients, said the precepts thousands of times, and received additional training. In each of my Shinpiden classes we had a discussion of what mastery is. Each group encouraged me to share my story.

What are you a master of? I asked my most recent Shinpiden students. “Eating. Showering.” One student laughingly replied. Then she went on, “You know when you’re in the middle of your shower, and you can’t remember if you did the conditioner or not?” We all laughed. She continued, “So I guess I’m not a master of showering. Not if I can’t always remember if I’ve conditioned or not.” Yeah, that’s it, isn’t it. Being fully present, every moment of every shower. And then eventually every moment of every day.

Shinpiden means “mystery teachings.” One of my students asked, what does that mean? What is the mystery?

The next week she said, “I know what the energy is for each of the first three symbols. I can feel that clearly. But what is the energy of the fourth symbol?”

I shared with her a quote from Morihei Ueshiba, the Founder of Aikido: “The Japanese term for birth is U-MU, consisting of the kototama U, ‘Being’ and MU, ‘Nothingness.’ That is, life springs forth when Form and Emptiness are in perfect balance.” The fourth symbol, I said, is the life that springs forth.

The energy of each of the first three symbols can be felt within our body’s energetic centers. But the energy of the fourth symbol expands beyond our limitations, arises from us, connects us, is more than us.

“Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.”

Like Donne to his three-personed God, we submit to the spiritual energy and it masters us. This is the mystery of the third degree of Reiki. This is the mystery of mastery.
__________________________________________________

Joy Vernon is a Reiki Practitioner and Teacher in Denver, Colorado. She is trained in two styles of Traditional Japanese Reiki: Usui Reiki Ryôhô and Komyo Reiki, as well as the Western-influenced Usui Tibetan tradition of Reiki. Joy is also a Certified Professional Tarot Reader. To schedule an appointment or for information on upcoming classes, please visit JoyVernon.com.

© 2012 by Joy Vernon. All rights reserved.

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The Teller of Tarot

January 16th, 2012

This is excerpted from my in-progress book, Journey Through Tarot. The first time I taught my tarot class in the early 90s I called it Exploring the Tarot. My marketing materials at the time said you would “become the teller of the spoken image.” Shortly thereafter I named it Journey Through Tarot, and my flyers invited you to “learn the metaphorical language of the tarot.” Last year I began calling it The Magician’s Tools and started using the phrase, “read the cards with your unique, authentic tarot voice.” I’ve continually expanded the class over the years, but the exercises have stood the test of time, and are as popular, effective–and telling– now as they were then.

A friend of mine often tells me about her aunt, who “told the cards.”

A professional reader I know says he doesn’t know much about tarot, but he’s happy to tell you a story about the pictures on the cards.

Journey Through Tarot is about learning to find your unique voice as a teller of tarot.

Many tarot instructors teach tarot in the same way that Classics professors teach Latin. First, you are given a list of vocabulary to memorize. Then you are given a passage from an ancient text to translate. This method of learning foreign languages is efficient and time-honored. But it’s not the only way to learn an unknown language. Another highly effective way is called cultural immersion. In cultural immersion, you learn the language through everyday conversations and interactions with others who use it and with those who are also just learning it. Your grammar may not be as precise as a student who spends most of the lesson conjugating verbs, but the personal reward of being able to communicate with another person in a new way is immense.

In Journey through Tarot, you learn the metaphorical language of tarot through cultural immersion. You won’t start by memorizing the meanings of cards, but rather you will use the images on the cards to determine what they mean to you. Nor will you begin by laying out spreads and translating them like a classic text, but rather you will intentionally choose cards that have something to say to you—and use these tarot images to express your thoughts and ideas. In this course, you will learn tarot backwards. You will learn to speak with the cards first. And then when you begin to listen to them, you will see that they have so much more to say than the stuttering of memorized phrases.

There are a number of different ways to read a card. In Journey Through Tarot, these different methods are called guideposts. This book presents seven guideposts that point the way toward understanding the cards. Exercises and examples help you to learn and apply each guidepost.

From the beginning you will be using cards in groups, not singly. The interaction of the cards is at the very foundation of learning to read tarot. It’s the difference between the word “cat” and the phrase “a black cat.” “Cat” as part of the phrase “a black cat” cannot refer to a tabby cat or a calico cat or a Siamese cat, and likewise, by laying down two cards, they must necessarily form a meaning that is different from that of either one alone. But if this method sounds complicated, the beauty is that it’s not. Because the guideposts teach you to use the cards to speak, all you have to do is tell stories with the cards. The stories you tell—the work you do with the cards—is what teaches you tarot. You learn by applying your own experiences, knowledge and understanding to the cards.

So, if this method doesn’t rely on the academic memorization of card keywords, does that mean it’s intuitive? Many of the students of Journey Through Tarot have found that they feel their intuition is strengthened through these exercises. But reading tarot intuitively is not the goal of this course. These techniques teach you to interpret the symbolism of the card, just as an art history student learns to interpret art or an English major learns to interpret a poem. You may start with an intuitive response to the illustration on the card, but this technique teaches you to be aware of where within yourself those intuitions arise from and how you can test and verify them with knowledge you already have. Furthermore, the lessons in this book will introduce a variety of symbol systems, called systems of correspondence, so that your readings can be fine-tuned with new vocabulary from these various dialects. The method offered in this book is not about memorizing meanings, nor is it solely about learning to trust your instinct as to what a card means, but rather it empowers you to confidently tell the stories in the cards by providing simple, easy to follow guideposts that help you analyze the symbols in any card to find that card’s unique meaning.
__________________________________________________

Joy Vernon is a Certified Professional Tarot Reader and Reiki Teacher in Denver, Colorado. Her specialty is the Empyrean Key Transformational Guidance, which combines energetic and esoteric modalities to help her clients break through blocks and align themselves with their higher purpose. For information on upcoming classes or to schedule an appointment, please visit JoyVernon.com.

© 2012 by Joy Vernon. All rights reserved.

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Dancing with Ganesha

December 29th, 2011

I have heard that meditating for 20 minutes with someone who has a stronger or different meditative practice than yours can initiate you into their level and style of meditation. I have found this to be true, having experienced a variety of longer meditations with several different partners. But I now know that it’s possible to receive this energetic instruction in less than 20 minutes. Earlier this month, I taught my mala class for the second year in a row. Because malas were developed as a Hindu tool for counting prayers, I always bring in a guest trained in Sanskrit mantra meditation to lead us in a meditation during class. This year my guest was someone who was experienced in devotional Hinduism. When this devotee of Krishna chanted one round of a mantra in praise of Ganesha, maybe ten minutes total, I stepped through a doorway into a new world of devotional worship.

What is devotional worship? The usual definition suggests that it is a private, not public, prayer or worship practice. But there’s more to it than that, an ineffable quality that is unique to the worshiper. Thefreedictionary.com sums it up nicely with their suggestion: “See synonyms at love.” YogaMax magazine says of Bhakti, or devotional, yoga: “It is Bhakti through which supreme love for God is experienced. This makes our heart to get purified by absorbing in God.” A Christian tract defines devotional worship as “a prayer format designed to provide an anointed atmosphere for meditation on scripture and for lingering in the presence of God.” Experiencing the love and presence of the Divine is to me the primary component of devotional worship.

At first, the mantra felt wrong as we began to chant it. It was much faster than I normally chant, and also higher pitched. I was certain that this was going to do nothing for me, but planned to practice it in my normal, slower pace at home. But as we continued, I gave myself over to the chant, and I was surprised at how effectively it worked. The faster, lighter quality of the sound and its rhythmic repetition carried me like a drumbeat to the place of inner vision. I saw Ganesha dancing, beckoning to me to join him. We only chanted a single round— which seemed absurdly short because I am used to doing 40-50 minute mantra meditations—but my experience was nevertheless profound and immediate.

The next day I did the same mantra, Om Gum Ganapatayei Namaha, three times through the mala and then went to make my tea and feed the cats. I continued chanting as I filled the kettle. Normally while the water boils and then the tea steeps, I do kitchen chores like putting the dishes away and loading the dishwasher. But this day Ganesha kept beckoning and calling, “Come sing and dance with me!” And I grabbed Fuzzy Kitten and danced with him around the living room and chanted. Luckily, I discovered that I could sing and dance and put the dishes away at the same time.

The third day I chanted the mantra four times around the mala and was set ablaze to work on the mala book I’m writing. This energy arose from a release that I experienced during the chanting. I have a five inch statuette of Ganesha on my altar and as I chanted, I gazed at the deity rather than keeping my eyes closed. I again saw the dancing, beckoning Ganesha, but now I saw an energetic cord anchor him to the statue. As I watched the statue, I saw his hand offered in the “fear not” gesture, and experienced a profound emotional release. I continued chanting throughout this release and regained my voice enough to carry on for the fourth round. Now I felt a very strong connection to this energy. In that one day I was so productive that I greatly expanded the outline for the book and designed five new prayer bead designs to include in it.

The energy of the Ganesha mantra is light and playful, very different from the deeper, blissful and rejuvenating but almost sleepy and remote energy of the Reiki jumon I normally work with and the other personal mantras I have developed. It occurred to me that my spiritual practice has always been about the magic of personal transformation or the search for unity and enlightenment. I feel like I have come very far with those two practices, but something was missing. Certainly I thought I just needed to continue to go deeper and practice longer. But this is my missing piece: a devotional practice.

I have been doing prayer, meditation and ritual work for connecting with the Higher for decades, but the traditions I’ve followed and the way I’ve engaged in my practice has focused on approaching Perfect Unity, which has no characteristics and all characteristics. By giving the Divine a personality–no longer the expression of the All but as manifested in the world, I gained an entirely new experience. My practice has always been to climb towards the Divine. Connecting with an admittedly limited but still Divine aspect of the Unlimited in a devotional way allows the Divine to come to me.
_____________________________________________________
Joy Vernon is a Reiki Practitioner and Teacher in Denver, Colorado. She is trained in two styles of Traditional Japanese Reiki: Usui Reiki Ryôhô and Komyo Reiki, as well as the Western-influenced Usui Tibetan tradition of Reiki. Joy is also a Certified Professional Tarot Reader. To schedule an appointment or for information on upcoming classes, please visit JoyVernon.com.

(c) 2011 by Joy Vernon

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Page of Cups

December 26th, 2011

I wrote this July 25, 2011 and didn’t post it because it didn’t have much of a point. But not everything does, does it? I hope this summer memory brightens your winter.

Sunday afternoon I went to the Botanic Gardens for the Japanese Tea Ceremony with some of my Reiki students and colleagues. I got there a little early, hoping to find a good spot to meditate in the gardens. I wandered around, eventually finding my way to the dragonfly pond in the Plains Garden. I sat on a bench at the edge of the pond, and began a breathing meditation. A large family passed by, and I opened my eyes, the better to maintain my focus with the noise and movement in my vicinity.

I slowly began to look around. Across from me, a waterfall cascaded into the pond. A man in the group of people excitedly pointed out that there was a turtle in the pond, and sure enough, I saw it swimming along, only the very tip of its nose poking above the surface of the water. Seeing the turtle was the passport I needed to become aware of the bustle of activity in the pond that had been just below my level of perception. Suddenly it was no longer a still, quiet pond, and I saw beautiful golden orange koi floating, dragonflies cavorting with each other, long-legged insects skimming the surface of the pond, and a sparrow swooping down and grazing the surface. I briefly thought, I wonder if one of those fish will come to talk with me. My perception firmly shifted to this natural realm, the passing of people now only barely registered, at the outskirts of awareness.

One of the goldfish had drifted closer to me, separated from the group. He was pointing straight at me, as if he were looking at me. I slowly shifted my focus to him, wondered if he was the one who would come and talk to me. I began to release the thoughts I had about fishes (especially Gollum related images, which I thought would scare the poor thing!) and focused on what it felt like to be a fish, the shape, the feel of the water, but just then he flicked his tail and turned away from me, and I withdrew my perception, which I think had gotten too close for comfort. But now I could see a tiny wisp of fin on his back and his diaphanous tail. I wondered if I had scared him away or if he would still come and talk to me.

I continued to quietly observe the pond, the dozens of colorful dragonflies, some of them electric blue, playing tag with each other in the air. I wondered if they were dragonflies or damselflies, but none ever touched down so I could see if its wings stayed open or closed. I saw the turtle again making slight ripples in the surface of the pond as he paddled around.

I looked down at my friend again. He had drifted a little closer. He had turned halfway back towards me and I could see his beautiful deep orange color with highlights of golden yellow scales at the side of his neck. I saw movement around him and for the first time noticed another fish, a dull brown color, the same drab color as the pond itself, swimming around him. I could only barely make her out; she blended in so perfectly with the water. At times I thought I was mistaking a ripple in the pond for another fish, but then she would flick her tail and spin away from the direction of the ripples caused by the waterfall. She continued to swim in circles around the bright orange fish. Had she always been there? What was she doing? He stayed perfectly still, as he had done for most of the time I was watching him.

The two fish continued to drift closer; I think the waterfall was causing a slight current that carried them towards me, although the main group of fish had stayed in the center of the pond. She continued to circle him, flicking her tail, turning away from him, flicking back, circling around. What was this dance, this ritual they performed?

I finally decided it was time to go. My gaze dropped to the water just in front of me, where before the skimming insects had walked the surface of the water, and right there, not a foot away from the edge of the platform my bench was on, a tiny little baby fish, the drab brown of the pond, mouthed at something on the surface of the water. Well, hello little one, I said. Have you come to talk to me? He was very small, only a couple inches long. He continued to open and close his mouth, kissing the surface of the water, so close to me.

I got up and walked down the path along the edge of the pond, crossing into the shade of the trees on the other side. As I walked over a wooden bridge, one of the electric blue flies landed on the edge of the rail for a fraction of a second before buzzing off again with its companion. Damselfly.
_____________________________________________________
Joy Vernon is a Reiki Practitioner and Teacher in Denver, Colorado. She is trained in two styles of Traditional Japanese Reiki: Usui Reiki Ryôhô and Komyo Reiki, as well as the Western-influenced Usui Tibetan tradition of Reiki. To schedule an appointment or for information on upcoming classes, please visit JoyVernon.com.

(c) 2011 by Joy Vernon

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Armature and Art: The Interplay of Intuitive and Knowledge Based Tarot Reading

December 22nd, 2011

Intuitive versus knowledge based tarot reading seems to be a popular topic for discussion lately. Whenever it comes up, people are quick to jump into a camp and defend their position. Last night, because it is a potential Denver Tarot Meetup presentation topic for 2012, I brought it up with DTM Founder Scott Womack and my assistant organizer John Allen. It didn’t take very much discussion before Scott pointed out that there are a lot of assumptions that happen when people hear these terms, and those stereotypes are what really need to be addressed. I couldn’t agree more.

To be honest, I get a little prickly when people bring up the subject because they tend to quickly assign me to a camp and then the typecasting begins. Usually I get assigned to the knowledge based camp, although on occasion I’m surprised to discover that someone has sided me with the intuitives. It doesn’t matter though, in that I don’t consider myself to belong to either camp. And truth be told, I think very few readers belong strictly to one or the other of these tarot taxonomies. What I find funny, when I’m not caught up in the prickles, is that even though most people consider me to be a knowledge-based reader, my students consistently describe my methods in class as intuitive.

Generally, knowledge based readers are considered readers who value research into tarot history, commonly accepted meanings assigned to the cards, and memorizable facts and correspondences for the cards. Intuitive readers are painted as using the cards as a scrying tool, from which they connect to their empathic, intuitive or psychic gifts, or from which they open a dialogue with spirit guides, angels, or those who have passed to the other side of the veil. Almost all the tarot teachers I know value the fact that tarotists can and will pull from both knowledge and intuitive insight while reading.

One colleague of mine, an intuitive reader, is proud to say that she doesn’t know the meanings of the cards. I always smile and nod when she says this, but one time she said it so many times that I finally responded that I never learned meanings for the cards either (and I hold firm to my belief that the cards are meaningless without being placed in the context of a question). I asked her how she taught intuitive tarot, and it turned out that she gave her students lists of what numbers mean, what colors mean, and what the tarot suits mean. I have to admit to a secret smile when I observed a group she taught. After reviewing the intuitive process, she set them loose with a large stack of handouts. All these intuitive tarotists proceeded to simply read from various pages as they flipped back and forth to match color, number and suit to card.

I was participating in that class as well, and chose a deck that I had never seen before and which didn’t strictly follow any particular deck design lineage. I read the cards based more on my own teaching methods (no handouts needed), and further complicated the issue by selecting a black and white deck. One of the instructor’s regular students observed me reading these cards and I said to him, what do you think this means? His response was to remind me that he had studied under two different intuitive teachers, and so he didn’t know the meanings of the cards and was unable to tell me what this spread meant. I definitely don’t blame his teachers—I know, like and respect both of them—but this is a typical response when someone places themselves under the limiting belief that there is a distinction between knowledge based and intuitive reading. He assumed that I knew some “right” answer out there and that he shouldn’t even bother trying to guess because intuition can’t lead one to quantifiable fact. I think herein lies one of the main problems that arises from intuitives who lock the doors and pull down the shades when confronted with someone who has built up a knowledge base around the cards. “Intuition” comes from the Latin “to know within” and is indeed as much about accuracy and truth as knowledge based reading.

In fact, I like to distinguish between “intuitive” and “instinctive” readers. I think a lot of inexperienced readers who take an intuitive approach without training end up responding instinctively to the cards rather than finding and connecting to their inner knowledge. Instinctive interpretations usually result in these readers projecting their personal biases, fears, ideals and values on the cards and ultimately on their clients. The very first thing I teach in class is for my students to bring awareness to what triggers their personal stuff so that they can move past instinctive reactions and begin to look deeper within themselves to a level of compassion that touches the throne of intuition.

Another important tool I teach is systems of correspondence. In fact, that’s what the intuitive instructor was doing with her stacks of handouts, she simply didn’t realize that she was sharing a base of knowledge with her students, because she considered knowledge to mean that one assigned a distinct definition to each card. So basically she and I teach the same way, and since neither of us ever learned the meanings of the cards, there really is no difference between her style and mine– well, other than the fact that she talks directly to dead people. I simply quote the published writings of dead people. Intuitive versus knowledge based in a nutshell!

In my marketing materials, I say that systems of correspondence are the structure that underlies intuition. Systems of correspondence are ways of categorizing and filing information. For example, the relationship between the tarot suits and the elements is a system of correspondence. This is a great place to start because we immediately come up against the boundaries of the system and students can quickly see both the freedom and limitations to how this works. I teach the esoteric correspondence for the suits and elements. In this tradition, the four suits follow the four seasons, as assigned according to the cardinal signs of the zodiac. The wands with their budding leaves are assigned to the spring, Aries, cardinal fire, the sign of the initiator and pioneer. Cups are accorded the symbolism of the nurturing and emotionally compassionate Cancer, cardinal water, the sign that marks the beginning of summer. Swords relate to the sign that marks the beginning of autumn, Libra, cardinal air, the balanced scales of justice and the resulting fair and decisive judgments. And Pentacles or coins are matched to winter, which starts on the cusp of Capricorn, cardinal earth, associated with career, success, authority, and the patient accumulation of wealth.

The beautiful thing about systems of correspondence is that there is no right answer—only common ways of making the associations. Another common correspondence for the tarot suits and elements is the Neo-Pagan directional associations for the elements. (I commonly refer to this as the Wands/Swords elemental swap.) This system draws from the four seasons and the four times of day, similarly to the esoteric associations, but based on psychological symbolism rather than astrological meaning. Spring or dawn is in the east, summer or noon in the south, fall or dusk in the west, and winter or midnight in the north. In this system, again, not a definitive system but a commonly used one, the light, airy, breezy quality of spring is assigned to air and the budding branch of the wands with their scent of spring blossoms. The hot, dry summer is assigned to fire and the sword which is forged in fire but not destroyed by fire and used as the weapon of choice by the fiery Mars-ruled warrior. The cool, dim evening in which lovers come together to watch the setting sun is assigned to water and the tarot suit cups, the symbol of love and relationships. And the cold, dark, barren winter, the time of relying on one’s stockpile of provisions, corresponds to the metallic sterility of pentacles, the coins that one collects and stores in pocket, purse or safe deposit box. A quick review of different decks will reveal even more ways of making the correspondences.

Once set loose with this way of approaching symbolism, creative students can make up their own systems of correspondence in order to bring in a knowledge base they already have studied, but which hasn’t previously been assigned to the tarot. Alternately, students trained in this methodology are much more likely to look for patterns in the images of the cards so that they can discover the system of correspondence used by the deck creator, and in so doing honor the author’s intention rather than trying to plaster previously memorized meanings over top of whatever deck is placed in front of them.

To me, the system of correspondence—or simply, the knowledge base—is like an artist’s armature. The armature is the framework that supports the sculpture that an artist is creating. It’s a wire stick figure that can be bent into any shape to give direction and form to the artist’s work. Intuition is like the artist’s process—the unique and indefinable way the artist works to manifest their artistic vision into concrete form. The resulting interpretation that the reader provides for the querent is the finished sculpture, which may or may not please the one who commissioned it! Intuition without underlying form is liable to waver and collapse without the direction and support of the appropriate system of correspondence. Knowledge alone is so bare bones that it produces an uninspired and typically impersonal interpretation. Truly artistic tarot readings are the result of the interplay of a structure of knowledge draped with the diaphanous beauty of intuition. Almost all readers use both, but most readers are stronger in one area than the other. A good reader will work to develop both sides equally and will not limit their abilities by denying themselves either their armature or their art.
__________________________________________________

Joy Vernon is a Certified Professional Tarot Reader and Reiki Teacher in Denver, Colorado. Her specialty is the Empyrean Key Transformational Guidance, which combines energetic and esoteric modalities to help her clients break through blocks and align themselves with their higher purpose. To schedule an appointment, please visit JoyVernon.com.

© 2011 by Joy Vernon. All rights reserved.

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Tarot and Reiki

December 13th, 2011

A while back I joked to a friend that I was going to develop a new way of reading tarot. I would have the client shuffle the deck and lay out three cards, then I would quietly channel Reiki while they meditated on the cards and received their messages silently. The joke partly arose from the fact that I like the deep, meditative, refreshing and regenerative energy of Reiki more than that of tarot. The talk involved in tarot taps into something a little different—inspirational and motivational, a much more active force that still is healing, but in a more energizing, and sometimes for me overstimulating, way.

When I first trained in Reiki back in the spring of 2003, my teacher told me that I would find a way of combining tarot and Reiki. For a long time I tried coming up with specific techniques, such as drawing the symbols on the deck prior to cutting and laying out the cards, or doing a short Reiki session on the client after the reading while they meditated on one of the cards they liked best from the reading. It wasn’t until at a fair about a year ago I read for a woman, someone I had just met who was also a healer and intuitive, who pointed out how much healing energy I bring into the reading. I had no idea, I just did what I do.

As this past year has seen my business really take off, and the number of readings and Reiki sessions I do dramatically increase, I’ve had a lot more time to ponder what exactly Reiki is and how it fits into the other types of sessions I do. I remember one day getting ready to head over to my practitioner space for a Reiki session. As I looked for my bag of Reiki stuff, I thought, “Do I have everything? Hey, I’m doing Reiki, all I need are my hands!” Of course, as I walked over to the venue, I contemplated that statement. Clearly, someone without hands can do Reiki, to take my statement at its most literal level. Reiki is more than a hands-on energy exchange. Reiki is about being in the place of connection with Divine Unity, of bringing the client into that place as well. This is work I had done in ritual for a dozen years prior to learning Reiki—Reiki just provided different motivations, intentions and techniques for making the connection.

Reiki tends to increase intuitive and psychic abilities, and in some traditions of Reiki it is common for the practitioner to relay psychically received messages to the client either during or after the session. Because I like the silence of Reiki, and because I use tarot as my tool for working with psychic messages for clients, and because it’s not practiced in the traditional Japanese Reiki style that I follow and teach, I don’t engage in this practice. When I begin a session, I silently set the intention that I only receive information if it’s necessary for me to know it; that the client receive information directly if they need to know something; and that if I do need to share something with the client that I understand this clearly and that I can communicate the message with clarity and compassion in a way that the client can most easily understand it. This group of intentions seems to work pretty well, and a lot of clients have gotten off the table saying that they had great insight into a problem they had. And once in a while I do get something specific that I let the client know about. If a client has worked with a different practitioner previously and inquires if I “got anything,” I simply tell them that I set an intention for them to receive the messages directly and ask them if they had any thoughts or insights during the session.

When working with tarot clients, I silently set the intention that I connect with them in a place of unity with the Divine. I also ask that I be able speak with clarity and compassion, in a way they understand. I have never tried to use my other Reiki intentions with my tarot clients; it simply never occurred to me. But apparently an overlap has occurred anyway. And I think I’ve found my experience of my unique way of combining tarot and Reiki.

At one of the psychic fairs I worked this weekend, I had a woman sit down in front of me. She mentioned she was a reader too. I have this odd habit with my tarot readings of adjusting my style for the person in front of me. I think it has to do with my intention to speak each client’s language to them clearly and compassionately. So I’m never sure how a reading is going to come out of me. I just open my mouth and see what happens. So this woman sat down, we established her question, she shuffled and lay the cards out. “Oh!” she said. Then she mumbled something and laughed. “Just my guide making a joke,” she said. I got the impression that I needed to let her take the lead on this one. “What do you see,” I asked. No thoughts as to an interpretation were coming through me at all, just a clear sense of that charged energetic space I get when I’m doing a reading. She started talking and she pretty much channeled her own reading. She was amazed and kept saying she never would have seen these things if she were reading for herself at home. She talked out a big download of information and was thrilled with her reading. “How much?” she said. I looked at my timer—the whole thing had taken only ten minutes. “$10” I replied, quoting my psychic fair price of a dollar a minute. She was shocked at this and kept saying, “Best ten dollars I ever spent.”

Practically the same thing happened with the next client, who also was a reader, but who was in a very rough place. She wanted a past life reading, not a tarot reading, but all the other readers were with clients. I told her that sometimes past life stuff has come through for me before, and we could set an intention to receive that information. She exhibited a sunken, defeated demeanor to start with, and we spent a lot of time working through the reading. As it progressed, though, and her energy began to shift and lighten up, she began reading for herself. By the end of the reading she exclaimed, “I could have done this myself!” The egoic part of me had a split second of being taken aback (it wanted credit!), but I knew that this sentiment was exactly what she needed to realize—that yes, she can do these things for herself. Like her predecessor, she said the reading was exactly what she needed and rushed off in a very charged, energetic state.

Whatever type of session I’m doing, I’m only a guide, and I hand over the keys to the client to tap into their own insight, their transformation, and their power. I guess the trick to doing Reiki and tarot is to remember that Reiki doesn’t just come through your hands. It comes through your eyes, your breath, your words, your compassion and indeed your whole being as you sit with another being who is ready to accept their own healing.
__________________________________________________

Joy Vernon is a Certified Professional Tarot Reader and Reiki Teacher in Denver, Colorado. Her specialty is the Empyrean Key Transformational Guidance, which combines energetic and esoteric modalities to help her clients break through blocks and align themselves with their higher purpose. To schedule an appointment, please visit JoyVernon.com.

© 2011 by Joy Vernon. All rights reserved.

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Nessus and the Hierosgamos: My Journey with the Empyrean Key

November 30th, 2011

The Denver Tarot Geeks

I started the Denver Tarot Geeks on May 26, 2007, as a way to share my excitement and passion about the power and inspiration I found in exploring the esoteric aspects of the tarot. I led a two-year series on the kabbalah, which was deeply transformative for me, very well attended, and which always earned rave reviews from participants.

I Felt Like a Complete Failure

But as the series wound up in April of 2009, I didn’t have a clear direction for the meetup group. I tried doing astrology and tarot, but got panned by the critics of the group. I floundered for almost a year, and in April 2010 I again attempted to start something on astrology and tarot. I had been working on developing new techniques steadily throughout the different series we did in that advanced tarot group. I felt like I was coming up with good stuff, but attendance had continued to drop and now hit an all-time low. For four painful meetings in a row, either no one but myself showed up or only one other person attended. I felt like a complete failure.

The Birth of the Empyrean Key

The one other person who was my regular during this time was the incomparable Rory Joyner who patiently worked through all my experimental processes, providing valuable feedback and support. After each session she would heap piles of praise on me insisting that what I was doing was important and that we needed to do something to let people know about these powerful techniques.

With the on-going help and persistence of Rory, I systematized my methods with a special process for each astrological sign the sun passed through. I tested and refined every tarot spread and ritual practice myself before sharing it with Rory. And the results were amazing – for both of us. Rory wrote an email to me dated May 1, 2010, in which she said, “This has been fascinating, incredible, and eye-opening work. Almost indescribable in its effectiveness for soul-exploration. I am REALLY looking forward to our next sign.”

In an effort to revamp the group, she and I scheduled a meeting at my house on Sunday, May 23, 2010, to plan a new strategy. We decided we needed a name for this tarot/astrology mix, and she brainstormed with me for probably two hours. I was exhausted but she wouldn’t give up. Finally she said, what’s Latin for star? Astra or Stella, I said, neither of which resonated at all and only made my mind spin off onto names of Golden Dawn groups. Out of sheer desperation I grabbed a set of notecards that I had used to jot down stuff I liked from a book on medieval cosmology. I knew there was plenty of Latin and Greek terms on these cards. Finally I came to a card with the word I needed — the Empyrean Heaven. This was it; I had found the name of my process: The Empyrean Key. A sense of energy and relief swept through me — mostly because this seemingly unending brainstorming session was over. I wasn’t even sure I liked the name! Although a few days later it started to resonate and I knew it was perfect.

We established a new day and new venue for our newly named series, and on June 24, 2010, six Tarot Geeks attended “The Empyrean Key.”

Nessus and the Hierosgamos

On July 24, the full moon in Leo, I sat down at home to do that month’s Empyrean Key work. This was my fifth month of doing the process, and this month things came together in a way they hadn’t previously — before things had been amazing, now real magic was happening. Everything came together and I understood my chart and myself in a way I had never understood before. Everything kept pointing to the midpoint of my Sun and Moon — I had done the midpoint estimation in my head and guessed it was around 9 or 10 degrees Gemini. I had been doing very deep work and had moved beyond simple insight — I just KNEW something had to be in my chart at that spot. So I pulled up Astro and scrolled down to the bottom of the Extended Chart Selection page and highlighted all of the additional objects. Sure enough, at 9 degrees, 12 minutes was something Astro called Nessu. I had no idea what it was, but I Googled it and discovered an asteroid (technically half-asteroid, half-comet) named after the Greek centaur Nessus.

The myth was that Nessus was responsible for killing Hercules, by lying to Hercules’ wife about the regenerative powers of his cloak, which was stained with blood and semen. He told Hercules’ wife that the cloak would heal a mortal wound, but when she wrapped it around her husband after he suffered a serious injury, Hercules burst into flames burning to his death, but attaining the immortality of apotheosis. I remembered seeing Rory use Robert Place’s Alchemical Tarot Renewed, and the Strength card, associated with Leo, showed a woman riding a lion while over her head she held a flaming heart into which red and white liquid from the sun and moon poured. This was the story! This was the midpoint of my Sun and Moon, masculine and feminine. I knew I needed the Alchemical deck!

I had gotten a newsletter from Robert Place a few days earlier in which he said that he had only a few of the Alchemical decks left, and gave contact information including a phone number. It was a Saturday night, and a couple hours later on the east coast than it was here in Denver, but I needed this deck now, and determined that I had better call him. Anyway, no one would answer on Saturday night — I was sure I could leave a message and I would hear back from him on Monday. I hesitated — what if he did answer? — but dismissed the possibility and placed the call. “Hello?” he said. I about died. “Um, err, Robert, umm, Robert Place?” I said. “Yes,” he said with a hearty degree of caution. I burst into a long crescendoing explanation of who I was and the Empyrean Key and Leo and my chart and Nessus ending with “And there was blood and semen on the cloak!!!!!!” And he replied, “That’s the hierosgamos!!” referring to the sacred marriage of masculine and feminine qualities, and I said, “YES! And it’s my Sun-Moon midpoint! And it’s on your Leo card! I must have your deck now!” and then he calmed me down enough to get my credit card number and shipping address.

Stepping onto my Path

On August 5, I had the idea of using the system to examine a particular life aspect in my chart — I chose to look at career and used the Empyrean Key process to discover what my ideal career was. The process spoke to me with perfect clarity and I realized that this — the Empyrean Key transformational process — was my true calling. I contacted a friend and asked him if he knew anyone who might be interested in intuitive career coaching. He said he knew someone who had been out of work for a depressingly long time and put me in touch with her. A few days later on August 11, I did my first Empyrean Key career coaching session. Two weeks after that she e-mailed me to let me know she had gotten a job. I continued to work my Empyrean Key process with clients who couldn’t stop telling me how much they loved the motivation, inspiration and personal insight they received from the process.

Over the course of the next year we went through a full Empyrean Key cycle in Tarot Geeks. And meanwhile Robert Place polished up his Alchemical deck and released a new edition. He offered pre-orders of the deck, and I purchased not only a new copy, but also an 8 1/2 x 11 print of the card of my choice. Of course I picked the Strength card. And I continued my own work with the Empyrean Key process.

The Wink from the Universe

In November I took my next big step in sharing this process. I developed a workshop and led my first real Empyrean Key class (not just the advanced tarot meetup) on November 12, 2011. It was hugely successful and everyone — even the student with absolutely no tarot or astrology background — was able to follow along with my detailed handouts. Participants reported getting profound insight out of the exercises. I went home after this successful first day of class, tired after a long month of preparing for it and ready to take a much needed rest. As I walked up the back steps, I could see the edge of a brown paper envelope peeking out from under the bottom of the screen door. I opened the door, and saw Robert Place’s return address. Inside the envelope was my signed and numbered print of the Strength card, with the red and white outpourings of the sun and moon joining in the flame of the heart, the hierosgamos, the reminder of my own profound personal transformation using the Empyrean Key system. Over a year and a half’s work culminating in this perfect wink from the universe, reminding me that all is in perfect alignment.

By the way, I did go back and properly figure out my Sun-Moon midpoint—due to some very rough rounding, I was off several degrees in my estimate. The actual midpoint is about 4 ½ degrees Gemini. No, not exactly where Nessus is. But something significant is there, nonetheless. The sun was not even one degree past my Sun-Moon midpoint in Gemini at the exact moment I started Tarot Geeks.

Where Does Your Story Begin?

Why does this story begin with the formation of the Tarot Geeks? It might make more sense to begin it with my joining the Denver Tarot Meetup, where I met Scott Womack who inspired me to start the Geeks. Or maybe before that, when a book signing at Lighthouse Writers Workshop turned me on to the internet site Meetup. Maybe I started it too early – perhaps I should have started with discovering the hierosgamos in my chart and the chucklingly embarrassing call to Robert Place in my state of archetypal expansion. Really, how often do you call someone you’ve never met late on a Saturday night and ramble on about blood and semen while placing a product order – and have the poor guy on the other end of the line understand your crazed outburst?

One of the things that was reinforced for me as I led the workshop on the Hero’s Journey and the Empyrean Key process is that we each are the author of our own story. We can accept the call to adventure, or reject it. The story happens either way. I’ve both accepted and rejected the call to adventure many times in my life. What about you? Where are you in your adventure? When was the last time the Universe winked at you? Or laughed right out loud with you? If you accepted the call to adventure today, where could you be a year from now? Adventure is calling. Will you accept?

__________________________________________________

Joy Vernon is a Certified Professional Tarot Reader and Reiki Teacher in Denver, Colorado. Her specialty is the Empyrean Key Transformational Guidance, which combines energetic and esoteric modalities to help her clients break through blocks and align themselves with their higher purpose. To schedule an appointment, please visit JoyVernon.com.

© 2011 by Joy Vernon. All rights reserved.

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The Reiki Prism

November 4th, 2011

I am extremely lucky to always have brilliant students in my classes. My current Shinpiden (Reiki Level 3) class is no exception and we had a very interesting discussion of the difference between reiju and attunements last night.

Reiju means spiritual blessing and is the Japanese basis of the practice that in Western Reiki has developed into the attunement. In Western Reiki, the attunement is considered to open and/or increase the student’s ability to connect with and channel the Reiki energy. However, in traditional Japanese Reiki, we are reminded that our innate energy is developed over time through regular practice of the precepts, meditations, hands-on healing, mantras and symbols, and the regular and repeated experience of connecting with Spirit and with others through giving and receiving reiju.

In the Usui Reiki Ryôhô style that I teach, reiju is a very simple ritual that does not use the symbols or mantras. The giver of the reiju remembers that they are one with the great bright light, and from this place of energetic connection ritualistically reminds the recipient of their own unity with that place of enlightenment through performing a series of briefly held hand positions.

I also teach the Hayashi attunements that have filtered down into Western Reiki. These attunements are much simpler, easier and more straightforward than the Western Reiki attunements I first learned. The Hayashi attunements use the symbols and mantras as part of the energetic exchange between giver and receiver. In this process, the giver connects to the great bright light but during the attunement ritual also takes time to remember each of the component elements that comprise the undifferentiated unity of the place of enlightenment, and through using the symbols and mantras to express each of these facets, teaches the student on an energetic level the steps necessary to attain oneness.

As I was attempting to express these thoughts to my students last night, I fumbled trying to think of an appropriate analogy. But one of my students did the work for me and exclaimed, “It’s like a prism!” She went on to express how the Reiki energy is the white light that enters the prism, and the symbols and mantras are the various colors of the rainbow that refract out. The Reiki practitioner is the prism itself. (What can I say? I told you my students are brilliant!)

With that metaphor in mind, it becomes simplicity itself to explain the difference between reiju and attunements. Reiju is showing the student the undifferentiated light that enters the prism—it’s teaching by introducing the end goal or destination first. The attunements teach the student to understand each of the refracted colors of the rainbow first as a way to approach an understanding of the light. As teachers, we benefit from understanding and being able to energetically demonstrate both the light entering us as well as the facets refracting from us, the Reiki prisms. Brilliant!

_____________________________________________________

Joy Vernon is a Reiki Practitioner and Teacher in Denver, Colorado. She is trained in two styles of Traditional Japanese Reiki: Usui Reiki Ryôhô and Komyo Reiki, as well as the Western-influenced Usui Tibetan tradition of Reiki. To schedule an appointment or for information on upcoming classes, please visit JoyVernon.com.

(c) 2011 by Joy Vernon

 

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Confronting the Dastardly Stalker Card

August 8th, 2011

I got an email today from a client who’s had a couple readings from me and has decided to teach herself to read tarot. She had two cards that were coming up repeatedly for her recently. Of course, to make matters worse, these were a pair of the great “freak out” cards. She definitely wasn’t freaking out—she’s pretty cool, but she was certainly very curious as to what the cards could mean. I offered a couple interpretations, but without knowing the exact question, the deck that was being used, the positions (if it was a positional layout at all), and so on, I really couldn’t expect to provide her much detail, only some generalized thoughts on the matter.

But I did share with her a trick that I think is top-notch for deciphering confusing cards, or even for entire readings that are more puzzling than prescient. Here’s the trick: Do a reading on what’s confusing you! If you’ve got a card that’s taken to stalking you, confront it! Stick it on the table in front of you, stare it down until it’s a bit nervous, and then ask: What do you mean for me right now? Why do you keep coming up? What is your relationship to the question I keep asking? Or whatever question leaps to mind as your stalker starts to sweat and squirm under your gaze. You can do a full spread, or just lay down a card or two, whatever you think it will take to get a grip on this hooligan.

Even in the middle of a reading with a client, if a card doesn’t make sense in relationship to the other cards, I’ll pull a qualifying card. It’s important to note that qualifying cards are not to be used in lieu of actually reading the cards laid out (the lazy reader’s trick) nor are they a way for you to weasel out of honest personal reflection, but when you’ve really given the cards your best shot, if “one of these things is not like the others,” then pulling a card for commentary can be very enlightening. I’ve used this technique with two different clients recently, both times discovering that the card in question actually applied to a second person involved in the situation, not to the querent, which explained why it was so different, even contrary, to the other cards that came up.

So if a reading stumps you, don’t turn to Google to get your answers, use your cards! Anything from a single qualifying card to a full reading done on what a recurring card means for you lets you turn the tables on your dastardly stalker.

__________________________________________________

Joy Vernon is a Certified Professional Tarot Reader and Reiki Teacher in Denver, Colorado. Her specialty is the Empyrean Key Intuitive Coaching, which combines energetic and esoteric modalities to help her clients break through blocks and align themselves with their higher purpose. To schedule an appointment, please visit JoyVernon.com.

© 2011 by Joy Vernon. All rights reserved.

 

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Foolish Thoughts

July 25th, 2011

In Tarot Geeks we were examining the Fool card and I observed that he was holding his stick in his left hand but laid it across his right shoulder, a very unnatural posture. It makes the character of the card look rather foolish, and so can be fairly easily dismissed as an example of the qualities described by the card title. One of my group members pointed out that the old Marseilles cards, of which this was an example, were generally created via stencils, and due to the vagaries of the craft, someone somewhere might have simply accidentally drawn the line for the staff in front of the Fool’s neck, rather than breaking the line so that the staff appeared to rest behind the Fool’s neck. This to me sounds like a very reasonable explanation, but I have a policy of not dismissing confusing things as mistakes and rather always giving them as much credence as possible to see what can be learned from the anomalies they present.

A few days later, I was in the kitchen fixing my dinner and I had to refill the salt container. I went to get the funnel I use for filling my spice jars, and remembered it was in the dishwasher. Not wanting to take the time to wash it, I thought I would just be extra careful. I successfully filled the salt container, and only a very few grains spilled around the edge of the jar, making a circle once the jar had been lifted away. Enjoying old superstitions, I brushed this spilled salt into my right hand and tossed it over my left shoulder, as I always do. Then I suddenly thought, no, that’s not right, it’s the left hand and right shoulder. Conveniently, there was some more salt spilled on the stove, so I brushed it into my left hand and tossed it over my right shoulder—at which point I realized I had just created the image of the Fool—hand crossing around my neck in an unnatural movement.

What if the staff is not being held foolishly over the wrong shoulder? What if it is not a mistake made early on and dutifully copied over and over throughout the many versions of this deck? What if the protagonist of this card has an objective that we have been unable to see due to our own dismissive prejudices? I propose that the Fool is intentionally throwing away his staff and bundle; superstitiously, or perhaps magically, releasing them and what they have meant to him.

__________________________________________________

Joy Vernon is a Certified Professional Tarot Reader in Denver, Colorado. Her specialty is the Empyrean Key Intuitive Coaching, which combines energetic and esoteric modalities to help her clients break through blocks and align themselves with their higher purpose. To schedule an appointment, please visit JoyVernon.com.

© 2011 by Joy Vernon. All rights reserved.

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