The Tower
It might seem like a strange form of soothing to work with The Tower, but this card is such a fantastic one for writers to work with: without the energy of The Tower, we wouldn't have any stories.
The most powerful aspect of a story is the transformation, and the most potent storytelling involves a reversal of fortune, or a point of no return, when everything the characters (and the reader) thought they knew is unsettled, or even shattered, and they must forge a new path. A story is about the moment of unstoppable inevitability of knowledge or action: think of Greek tragedies, folk tales, revolutions, mysteries. Humans are wired to be hungry for these kinds of stories, because they help us to understand a chaotic and sometimes brutal world.
The Tower card in The Modern Witch deck is horrifying at first glance: jagged rocks, falling bodies, fiery rain. Black night sky blazing, and the plummeting crown. The alien rocks and slate grey clouds recall the palette of the Ten of Swords, another card that could be frightening, but really offers respite, and recalibration.
Great transformation, and great art, are rarely formed effortlessly. This landscape reminded me of my favourite precious stone, the fire opal. Fire opals were forged in the heart of ancient volcanoes. Water was trapped inside the lava, creating shimmering, fiery droplets. What we call fire opals were known by the Mayan and Aztec peoples, as “quetzalitzlipyollitli” or, “the stone of the bird of paradise". This stone was a powerful ritual tool. Without the extremity of the pressure and heat in the volcano, these magical stones wouldn't exist.
Ceremony and The Tower
I have drawn The Tower several times recently when reflecting on Ceremony and how to be a guardian of this new venture, while being an ethical community member. The plans I've made keep transforming with a sense of unstoppable inevitability. I know that writing a book is a form of powerful magic, but I had somehow forgotten that guiding people on their path through writing their books is also a magical rite, and one that has its own magnetic charge.
I'm finding an echo of my path to sobriety, which has been a difficult journey, one of great losses: of relationships, of identity, of self. But it has cleared a path for a new life. I have reached a point of no return and going back is unthinkable.
I will keep refining my guardianship of Ceremony and finding a way to make it as deep and magical as I think it can be, while making sure I can support as many people as possible. I'm thinking of creating a light version of the programme available to all for free, and a deeper coaching programme for small group support and individual coaching. The process may be a little messy as I work out how to do this, but I want to share this with you as it evolves!
Writing Prompts
Take a scene or character and write about a transformation. Think of animal transformations in folk tales, or gold spun from straw, the hero of a Greek tragedy on their path of no return, the transcendent moment in a memoir where someone quits a job or leaves their life and transcends what went before.
Write about the discovery or loss of a crown, a regime change, or a revolution.
Write about the birth of a fire opal, deep inside a volcano, pay attention to the process, the colours, light, and heat. Imagine a ritual that takes place once the opal has been formed.
Writing Rituals
Make a crown of flowers, leaves, or wild wood. Place it on your altar or wear it, to remind you that hierarchies aren't inevitable or permanent, but can shift, change, and decay.
Write out your greatest writing fear in your journal. Focus on the transformation that feels the most threatening or destabilising. Settle in, let your body work through its resistance. Make peace with this fear; befriend it. The more you listen to the fear and let it be, the less power it has. Acknowledge the fear and let it go.
Thinking of the Tower reversed energy, which is about intentional change, self-knowledge and awareness, change something with intention, your nail polish, your walking route, the colour of ink in your pen, chill a glass jug of water in the fridge with a sprig of rosemary and slices of cucumber.
Tarot Spread or Journalling Prompts
1. What do I fear from transformation in my writing?
2. Does moving towards this transformation align with my higher good?
3. If I avoid this transformation, what will happen?
4. Who must I be to move towards this transformation?
5. What will I leave behind?
I hope you have a week shot through with fire opal light.
Bonus: Song of The Tower
Before I was sober, this song which someone described as being shot through with MDMA crystals (I wish I could remember where I read that) would be a trigger for a different kind of transcendence, but now it makes me think of storytelling, of the electricity, a charge, the whole range of writing to connect to. What we channel is "the language of the earth, it is the language of the beasts". The catharsis of a nightmare or a horror film is a reminder that you can't make great changes and stay the same.