As I’ve mentioned before on this blog, I have performed divinatory services for clients since I was about eleven years old. As both a scholar and a practitioner, I am deeply fascinated by the incredible range of – but also significant similarities between – forms of divination as practiced across the centuries and the globe, and I know that readers of this blog – many of whom also practice some kind of divination – are too. With that in mind, I thought I’d offer some casual thoughts and a few original rough translations relating to Tibetan divination practices here, with a focus on one type of prognostication in particular: ‘phreng mo (pronounced treng moh), or divination through the use of a prayer beads or rosaries (‘phreng ba). Continue reading
(The author of this blog, probably age 11, divining for a client at an outdoor flea-market in South Africa in the late 90s. Clock the middle parting and regrettable dream-catcher necklace – a gift from a friend, honest!)
Readers of this blog who have listened to some of the interviews I have done will know that in addition to my work as a cultural anthropologist I have spent over two decades working as a diviner for clients as well.
I began reading Tarot cards for querents (an old-fashioned word for divination clients) in South Africa when I was about ten years old. My family was not really spiritually inclined at all, and I was raised without religion at home. From very early on, however, I was drawn to religion, and to occult and esoteric matters. From a young age I had a number of dreams, intimations and experiences which fuelled this interest. Although my parents did not have the personal expertise to explain these or to guide me directly, they were thankfully open-minded and accommodating enough to encourage me to do my own research and exploration. My maternal grandmother, who had a passing interest in things like astrology and other forms of divination Continue reading
I just found out through a chance appearance on my Facebook feed that another friend and lover of mine in Denver passed away six months ago (it wasn’t that long ago that I learned that another friend and lover of mine in Denver, John, passed away as well – you can see my memorial to him and my conflicted reflections on public mourning and Facebook here). Somehow I missed this news entirely, no doubt because I’ve been away abroad doing other things. A friend of Sammy’s just posted on his wall saying that she had dreamed of him appearing in the back of a car. She’d asked him how it was he could be there, and he’d replied, “I’m everywhere”. I went to his page, realizing I’d not seen sign of him in ages, only to discover that he had taken his own life in July of last year at the age of 31.
Sammy came up in conversation only a day or two ago, while I was talking with my friend Ella who’s my current travelling partner in Rajasthan. I told Ella a story about an unusual experience that I once shared with Sammy that has always stuck with me. When I told it to her I made a mental note to reach out to Sammy to find out how he was, and to ask him if he’d mind recounting his version of events to me for comparison. I now realize this won’t be possible in the way that I had hoped.