2. Lilith

Lilith is referenced across Abrahamic tradition as G-d's first-made wife for Adam, composed from the same earth (not his rib, like Eve).  She was ejected from the Garden of Eden for refusing to be submissive, and refusing to lay beneath Adam while having sex.  This is a card of understanding and knowing one's worth, and understanding what a person sacrifices to please authority figures-- or that sometimes, it's not appropriate to do so.  This is not defiance for the sake of defiance, though: this is defiance because obedience fails to serve the hope. Talk about Lilith as the Demon Queen, succubus, child-killer, forget that this is a very slanted narrative against her; the virtues extolled by the majority often don't serve the needs of the individual.  Especially that of a woman who just wants to be equal to her spouse, equally made. 

This card is part of the PANTHEON Suit in the Woven Wisdom Oracle, which recalls details in divinity that apply to our lives. Thank you to those people of the living faith traditions who offered additional insight & context into the importance of these divine figures.  This suit asks, what can I learn from the figureheads and their living traditions. that I may observe myself with that same 
reverence?

Could relate to: managing gossip, breaking from the status quo, going against the advice or directions of authority figures

Key Questions:

  • Who in my life am I giving more control to, when I should be in control?

  • What are my hard personal and professional boundaries? 

  • Is it appropriate to defy the authority in this situation?

  • Do others' narratives of me leave out context?  Is it worth it to correct them?

  • How do I bring my humanity into this situation, but maintain my independence?

 

YES/NO:  YES.  SCREW WHAT EVERYONE ELSE SAYS.

"SCORNED"

- Siren, 2019

It was said, "LET THERE BE LIGHT"-- and by LIGHT

I mean truth, and by truth I mean proof that God made man in His image;

Oh, how they both hate that which they can't quite pin down.

You see, in the beginning they call you beautiful, equal, made of the same earth,

Queen, give you angel wings, make you wife.  But, Woman:

when they can't cast you to fit their mold-- they will cast you to the depths of their slander.

They rue your refusal, incredulous at your audacity to exist as more than servant,

viable as more than vessel;

and when you refuse to bear their children? You are both childless and child-killer,

succubus and temptress, screech-owl requestor of acknowledgement.

Woman, you may only wish to exist as equal, but that is too much for them;

They, who split each wing as punishment for unsplit legs;

They, who swear their infatuation with your submission ensnares them in your talons;

They, who forget that through all your names,

you were human once, at genesis,

made of the same dark materials, just as willing to slay the sacred.

You may sit by their side, whisper LIGHT in their ear,

but they twist the roots of your words to reek of sulfur and brimstone,

sliding them into temptation-- as if knowledge and sovereignty of your curves were the greatest curse.

 

You, fire in the ember, are the Mother of every unholiness they wish to crush under heel.

Yet every testament of horror wears their face, speaks their tongues, splits your facets to simple scorn--

and it's quite alright to be acknowledged as a force to be reckoned with.

Tell them, if they can't take the heat of your hellfire--

GET OUT.