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Brenda Kay's avatar

Day 6: “Just look at that red horse, Steve!” Pitch’s voice was guttural, his words hardly distinguishable. “He’s been through this before. He’s not scared a bit. He’s fought his way to the top and that black stallion is going to have to kill him to take his title away. Look, Steve! You never saw such confidence as that red devil has!”

The Island Stallion by Walter Farley pg. 106

The weathered cover of this book that belonged to my mom as a child, who then gave it to me to read at about age 8, has my childish scribble of a name written in the front cover. Mom introduced me to the "Black Stallion" novels and I loved them. The dedication reads "Dedicated to all boys and girls who love horses but never had one of their own." That was me.

I think it is interesting that of all the books on my office shelf-- that in this exercise I have pulled the two books that were owned by family members that have passed in the last couple of years. I'm not sure where I am when considering if we continue on in some way after death, and if those who have moved on are aware of us here, but sometimes it sure feels like it.

As for the passage itself and how it relates to the greater message of the journey/adventure we are all on in this old life, well, this one hits. Fighting one's way through the vicissitudes and difficulties of life develops a metal in the spine that is not easily taken away. In my experience you must become who you really are or die fighting. I suppose that sounds dramatic, but so is life.

Richard Di Castri's avatar

Matt - in my previous comment I apologized for not being able to participate in the bibliography divination, due to my situation on the home front - but perhaps your essays are still so relevant to me due to a practice I'm undertaking with my Tarot. I've been using the throw of images to commune with my partner of 50 years who passed away in 2018. I foolishly mentioned this to a friend who thought I'd gone over the edge, so I've kept quiet about this since. A deep and resonant relationship which oriented most of my adult life had been torn away, and I resorted to the Tarot trusting that somehow my partner was now a component of the so-called random pull of images. When you've been so much a part of another's life, you know how they speak, how they form idea, how they express humour or irritation. The cards appear, following the shuffle and random selection of 10 cards, in his unique voice and character. I speak with him, feel him within me, and pull the cards....and he answers me. I don't feel he is a "ghost" floating around...rather, what he was is now part and parcel of limitless Universe relating and responding to another cell in its body - Me. While that Universe presents itself particularized in the presence of a loved one, it is not confined within nor limited by that particular expression. Perhaps something so powerful a loss...something that felt worse than death, opened me to allow that inter-communication ? Perhaps a profound degree of Will - a deep investment in our questions - is necessary to open the barrier of pseudo rational skepticism before Divination can arise?

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