The Fool- Rider Waite

 

 

 

Ahhhh, the carefree life of being a Fool.  There is nothing wrong with being innocent and happy.  The joy of setting out happily upon a new journey without knowing the destination.  So you go out into the world, walking straight on without seeing the cliffs.  If you are lucky, you will make it to the other side without noticing you are in mid-air.  If you do not, and tumble off the cliff, there is a journey there also.  Again the phrase comes to mind:  We become less in order to become more.  (Kellog Bluff)

 

The journey is your first breath of life, your first spiritual experience, the time you thought you were very lucky, your first kiss.  You are ready to discover your unlimited potential.  You are now not only spirit but matter as well.   In some ways, you are a clean slate.

 

Sometimes I think I have made it to Magician.  Other times, with the help of a few mugs of mead, I believe I am finally a High Priestess.  Hahahah.  You will see there is nothing foolish in a Fool story.  After all, the importance of being a Fool is great.  Don’t be offended by the confusing naming of the beginning .  Be true to yourself, and experience the happiness.  In my rare glimpses when I am a little more than a Fool, I smile at what I was.    I smile at what I think I was too.  I am sure I will smile again.  Someone once told me that adventurers are a dime a dozen, but true Fools are rare.  

 

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One Tiny Hobbit against all the evil the world could master.  A sane being would have given up but Samwise burned with a magnificent madness, a glowing obsession to surmount every obstacle to find Frodo, destroy the ring and cleanse Middle Earth of its festering malignancies.  He knew he would try again, fail perhaps, and try once more.  A thousand, thousand times if need be, but he would not give up the quest.

 

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Lighthart asked an interesting question in chat.  When did you first notice you were different? 
 
Please share your first realization that you were "on a path."  What happened that you noticed your differences, spiritual growth?
 
It took me a long time to notice that I was different.  My parents are different, my family is different, and we socialize with a lot of people from different countries.  They are different too.  I figured everyone had vast differences.
 
When I went to school, I started learning that there are "norms" that everyone here in the US or maybe my area tended to follow.  I got a little hint there.
 
I started gravitating towards books of the supernatural and religious natures when I was small.  I read Sidhartha in third grade I think.  I also read books about psychic phenomena. 
 
I went to church every Sunday with my family.  (Now they refer to me as a part-timer with a wink.) I wished really hard to see God or an angel.  (I forgot about that until just recently.)  I was surprised when I did not see anything too.
 
My first strong experience was also when I was little.  I thought it was a poltergeist experience when something moved in the bathroom.  I realize looking back, that it was me, but I really got a terrible fright!
 
My unfolding of path has been a slow but sure journey, with experienced that make things move along at times.  Only looking back do I have the realizations of what I was actually doing.  
 --- Evonne

I noticed I was different early on.
Never having to study.
Simply knowing the answers.
--- Mantis__Knight

I was in elementary school and I remember that my Mom had gone back to working full time.  My brother and sister had already left for school.  I was running late, whether it be an appointment or something, I was responsible for locking up.  I was in my room and I saw something in my closet (the doors were open a crack).  I didn’t really understand what it was and I ran out of the house crying and I went to school.  I told my principal and he and I came back to the house.  Nothing was taken.  He was upset with me and asked me if I was lying.  I wasn’t.  I could have sworn I saw something.  Since then my closet doors have remained open (I just came to that realization).  That was the last time I saw something while being awake.  
--- Isabella_J
 
 

I had my first obe when I was sixish, maybe seven.
--- solace© 

My parents were getting married... had it planned out and all.  The paster to the church they always attended backed out the day before.  He told them God told him they shouldn’t be married. He was nearly in tears... they were all three friends.   They went to the courthouse and did the do.  When mom was about 5 months or so pregnant she joined a commune.  They gave her, her own bedroom and more food than the rest.  It bothered her.  The head guy told her one day that God came to him and told him that the child she was carrying was going to be very special.  That somehow the baby was gonna help them.  Something like that.  By this time she's 9 months prego.  She jumped out the window in the middle of the night and hitchhiked back to her mom’s house.  (You wouldn’t believe it if you met my mom she's a mouse).   Once when I was just born and home from the hospital... a woman called but it was the wrong number.  She kept talking... apparently she was psychic and ended up telling my dad all about me and told him I had 'it'. 
 
When I was a little girl I used to (in my dreams) stand on this path and way way way in front of me was this line of trees.  Lined up from left to right... giant tall trees.  They were evenly spaced except the ones directly (way) in front of me there was a gap for the path to walk thru.  I stood still and behind the trees was all of this light... each particle alive making patterns so many patterns that it just looked like the sunset had come alive and the colors were dancing with each other (slowly).  I remember knowing that was God and standing there just feeling it.  I had that dream constantly as a child.  The only people that believed that I knew what God looked like and talked to him were my parents.  (Probably cause dad met god on his honeymoon on LSD) ;-)
 
I had an ulcer very young.  My dad told me it was because I felt the pain of the world and cared that it hurt.  My father was a headtrip !  He told me when I got old enough he would teach me how to heal.  By that time my father told me he "retired".  Sort of this thing he believed that he was an employee of God and that he got sick of it and sick of people gravitating to him from as far as other states getting advise.  He just got sick of the open door policy.  Joke was on him... there is no such thing as retire. Lol.  He's since come out of retirement.  Its funny he guided me alot thru this stuff as a kid.  Just after we formed SLC I had a convo with dad.  He had a few epiphanies and now for the first time in his life he's balanced... working.... happy (not retired). 
 
I could hear about a disease on TV or symptoms of something and I could close my eyes and get it (enough to fool ppl).  I think I knew I was different when I was 8.  I was really, really sick with the flu.  I begged my mom to let me lay on the sidewalk naked... I told her it would heal me (the sun).  She wouldn’t let me.  I waited till she was gone and I laid on the sidewalk naked in the sun.  I was completely healed when she got home.  I don’t know why it was so significant and the other stuff wasn’t.  Maybe because it was the year my parents split up.  My dad always made me feel normal and always believed me... my mom knew, she tried really hard but she just sometimes couldn’t grasp that some things were possible.
 
My mom ALWAYS gets what she prays for.  My grandmother too.  They just always ask the wrong way.  It was another realization for me.  To see my mom pray for money to feed us and get in a car accident that eventually paid her a bunch of money.  She knew the universe always answered her with what she asked for... she just never quite got that it wasn’t the universes will that did it to her... it was her lack of understanding how to work with it.  What do you tell someone that is manifest-retard? Lol.  To her it was what God wanted.  I remember telling her after her second car accident that you don’t pray for money... you ask to be provided for.   She's never prayed for money again... she's actually terrified to ask for anything.  Its funny really... she thinks she gets things because she only asks if she absolutely must...  but she only asks when she absolutely must because she gets what she asks for literally and its to traumatic.  What a huge lesson in acceptance to just hug her and smile.  Imagine right there lies this root to this enormous house of cards she's built herself.  Its a nice house... works for her so you just smile.  Sorry to run on so much... I got caught up in my childhood memories.
--- Intense_Female

 

I think I was twelve when I realized I was different. My dreams came true, I could hear spirits, not there voices but their physical movement. It wasn't until a couple years ago that I realized I was an empath. Called my sister and asked her about it and she said Yeah we could look at you as the barometer of the room. I was labeled as a difficult child, unable to control my emotions when it was really their emotions I was trying so hard to deal with. I also recently found out my father is clairvoyant. I haven't seen him since I was 5 when my mother passed away, but we have begun talking and I'm finding all kinds of things about him. Its funny, when my mother passed away, I developed ulcers and they believed it was because of my mother’s death. I always believed it was because I missed my father. He knew me. I knew my mother was dead and there was no point in missing her. I was a very practical child. Or at least that is what I thought at the time what I really wanted was someone to love me as I was, you know, unconditionally. My parents loved me that way. 
--- Lighthart

 

I always wanted attention. I would hurt myself on purpose just to get some love. I thought that I was weird for doing that. I always thought my parents were bad parents cause they had no time for me. When I was in grade 1 I went to class everyday and put my head on my desk. I felt horribly sick every time I went to school, I felt anxious. I was always wanting to hug people and make them better. My dad would get me to sing to him in another language, but I didn’t know any other language so I just sang in gibberish. And then when I was 6 years old I began to dream about a ghost in my room. It was just always there, my fear of the unknown-- I would wake up crying every night because of this ghost dream.  I tell my friends and they were no help, they seemed so young and i felt old. I guess that’s when I felt different. No one else in my group of friends talked about ghosts. 
---WildHeart 

 

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