Petite Reading
        The message this week seems to be identifying a personal liability in a larger problematic; that is, not spending time diagnosing what is wrong with the world at large (there are times for that) but identifying one’s own fraudulent and damaging part in it.

Complete Reading
        This week we drew the Justice card in reverse aspect. Here the subject is self deception, of the willful variety. Take special note as to how the obstacles you face are related to your pet delusions. This is a card of personal accountability. The best way forward this period will not be pointing the finger but looking in the mirror. (Be both Laura Linney and Richard Gere in The Mothman Prophecies).
        This week we rolled a hexagram with no changes, so how we enter the week will be relatively how we exit it. Our hexagram is number 45, Gathering Together (Massing). Using the symbolism of swelling waters, in danger of breaking their banks, the topic here centers around the gathering together of masses of people. We have rolled this hexagram quite a few times and the message has become fairly clear. In order that large masses of people are to get along they have to have a leader and something like a shared goal of morality (could be religious, could be secular). Prosperity happens when ancestry (the past) and progeny (the future) are felt to be mutually positive; this is true for blood family or a nation. Casting aspersions on all external binding elements is like a levee at the breaking point. Finding what is common to all is imperative to prevent chaos. But of course horrors have been visited upon this planet many, many times over. This subject makes us think of Yeat’s poem The Second Coming — written all the way back in 1919 “in the aftermath of the First World War and the beginning of the Irish War of Independence.”

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?