Lunar eclipse, July 16:




the spread

The diamond

This Osho layout was designed for more gaining clarity on a specific issue. Here, it puts the forces at play – internally and collectively before, during and after the July 16 eclipse – under the microscope. I have drawn two cards for each position. If you are reading this on a mobile device, the cards may display out of order. Please read anyway!

the issue

Hummingbird / Jacob

Hummingbird / 


This coupling speaks of the struggle to take flight. Hummingbird darts this way and that with a child-like rapid ease. Jacob fights until the breaking of the dawn and is an obvious symbol of the ego wrestling for control. These are diametrically opposed forces: Hummingbird’s elevated poise versus the struggling Jacob’s downward pull.

Yet who is Jacob struggling with? In some versions, it’s an angel; in others, God. We could say it’s the better angel of his nature. Only at the breaking of the light, does he see his apparent opponent. At this point he’s exhausted. Rembrandt portrayed Jacob swooning in the arms of the angel, his last reserves of resistance spent. Hummingbird suggests there’s a better way, but then that’s the nature of the unconscious ego: to fight, to grapple, to lash out blindly.

It’s far too easy to sentimentalize Hummingbird,but make no mistake, Hummingbird is shrewd. There’s room here to accommodate the egoic struggle; in fact, it’s totally to be expected. Jacob’s wound is a reminder that we are protecting a vulnerability. The angel never overwhelms him with force, nor does the angel allow Jacob to gain the upper hand. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.

This inner conflict has been sustained for a long time. There’s a power imbalance inside us waiting for the resolution that comes at the crack of dawn. The dark night will pass. The better angel of our nature will be revealed. The Hummingbird will take flight. The shadow self is a phantom and there will be no sense grasping for something that’s no longer there. We know it’s over when we can barely remember what all that nonsense was actually about.


Michael / Bat

Michael / Bat

Speaking of angels, step forward Michael. This archangel is known for being a healer but perhaps more so, a warrior. In orthodox terms, he is the guardian of the faith and Satan’s chief opponent. “Satan” in Hebrew can be translated as “adversary”. This all adds up. We have already met the adversary and it lives inside us: the will to turn from inconvenient truths. So if Jacob was a mere struggle, Michael indicates this feels like a holy war. Satan’s great hubris is that he thinks he is greater than God. It’s a flimsy conceit and one which the adversary will defend to the death. So there’s our inner war.

Nocturnal Bat journeys between worlds and tells us what’s really going on at the subconscious level if we can bear to hear its piercing shrieks. This strange animal, a mammal with wings, can evoke a visceral terror of our own ugliness, all those secrets kept in dark places. Bat is a totem of initiation, death and rebirth. In the context of a war, there will be no prisoners. Death is total. Now we have our stakes. Our shadow world is being exposed: the deepest fear that we’re not enough, around which the husk of an ego was formed.

There is a dark and even violent imagery associated with these two cards. It’s the stuff of nightmares. Yet none of it is real. Michael’s sword can cut binds, yes, but he also wields the power of calling a thing by its proper name. Michael names the adversary and calls it out as unreal. Nothing can cripple the whole assemblage of the ego like realizing that it is actually a fabrication. Even the war is a fabrication if the adversary isn’t real. As Leonard Cohen wrote: “Everybody knows the war is over. Everybody know the good guys lost…” Think about it. That’s a relief.

external influences

Anointed / Iboga

Anointed / Iboga

This showdown couldn’t be avoided much longer. If Hummingbird is to take flight, we had to end the struggle – for our calling, our direction, our vision, our gifts of service. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death….” Psalms 23 has a table prepared for us in the presence of our our adversaries, and our heads anointed with oil. Why adversaries, plural? Because of the fractured nature of selfhood. Iboga will get to the root cause with an absolute commitment to bringing everything to light.

Iboga also takes us through death and rebirth, yet it is not so linear. Sometimes the rebirth is more painful than the death. This suggests waves of release. First the throttled-down congestion, followed by a gradual emergence of clarity. Yet this is a clarity of a different hue: light moves fast, super fast, but now our consciousness can capture its streaking rays, ironically, by slowing right down. Instead of seeing the film as an uninterrupted depiction of reality, we start to see the individual frames. 

This is new and has implications. Our perception of what we had presumed to be seamless reality is breaking down. The world is not so solid anymore and that can be unnerving. If the world is a projection, just what kind of world have we created? If our sense of reality is breaking down, so are all the beliefs that sustained that reality. No wonder Jacob is struggling. It must feel like life and death, and a cataclysm imminent.

what’s needed for resolution

Earthquake / Grail

Earthquake / Grail

Some people have been waiting for a global reset, without realizing the world exists inside them. Our reset is the global reset. Here’s what it looks like: an inner Earthquake that releases subterranean tension and shows us how flimsy all man-made constructions are in the face of awesome nature. We are not in control. It’s a seismic realignment of priorities and self-identification.

If Iboga flooded us with light, then we need a reset to reckon with the vastly changed landscape. That means maybe the usual lights will go out for a while. It’s in that momentary darkness, an extended pause at the end of an out-breath, that we can reorient ourselves.

Grail suggests this new orientation directs us towards the nexus between service and liberation. “Who serves the Grail?” asks Parsifal finally in the Ring Cycle. It’s a delightful humbling before the face of the divine. To be in service of other, not self, relieves us of the burden of control. Psalm 23 continues: “… surely goodness shall follow me the rest of my days and I shall dwell in the House of the Lord forever”. 

The eclipse shakes up the foundations of our small house and tears downs its pillars. We cannot co-create if we are still subconsciously trying to hold up the scaffolding. To dwell in that mansion in heaven is to ultimately see that the other is self, until all the dualistic tension collapses into beauty. That’s the Holy Grail.

resolution: the understanding

Calling / Tree

Calling / Tree

In Matthew 22:14, Jesus says that “many are called, but few are chosen”. Who is calling? The guru, our soul, God, quantum possibility? The aspirational idea of a calling can get co-opted and commodified: a calling for sale in the spiritual marketplace. It’s an uncomfortable question: when does the need to be in service, along with its accoutrements of identity, oustrip the needs of the person being served? Whose validation are we seeking, and by what criteria are we gauging success?

In the parable of the wedding feast, Jesus is speaking to the chief priests and Pharisees. In the religious hierarchy of the old world, these guys were the ‘chosen ones’. Jesus was speaking to entitlement. The chief priests think they have the right to mediate between the people and God. Instead, Jesus says, the “many” are called: the little guys, the good and bad, the venal and the saintly. No one is excluded. That cuts the high priests right down to size, right here with the rest of us.

The Tree of life is the axis mundi, connecting heaven and earth. Our collective calling is to bridge the upper world and our middle world, formlessness and form. We don’t have to die to realize our true nature. And surely that is the calling that unites us all. The Calling card is illustrated with a whirling dervish, from the mystical branch of Islam. The dervish spins and spins, abandoning worldly orientation for the pure centre of God. Our job is to respond, not to usurp the divine by presuming we can issue the invitation, too. Who serves the Grail? That’s the question we must gather our courage to ask.

Photo by Jake Hills on Unsplash

Share This

Share This

Share this post with your friends!