We just got the prototype of the first edition of PANOPTICON, so I’m VERY excited to share our first official reading!
PANOPTICON is a straightforward deck built of symbols—symbols from mythology, alchemy, astrology, tarot, and more—that lends itself to unique, narrative readings with a psychological grounding. And it’s easy to pick up—you’ve probably seen most of the symbols already!
Here is a quick reading, done for a friend, to demonstrate the feel and flow of working with the deck—if you’re interested, there’s more info over at https://standupforthegods.com, readings are available and pre-orders are open!
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Question:
What does the client need to do in order to find the best possible road forward in a challenging situation?
Spread: Organic 6 Card Inv. Triangle
1 / 2 / 3
4 / 5
6
Cards:
CHIRON / VULCAN / DRAM
OUROBOROS / CONJUNCTION
SATURN
Overview:
Healing requires pain, creation requires transforming the negative within, and this situation requires more of both.
The healing is cyclical—things can improve, but it will require continuous work and reinvention, renegotiation. That reinvention and renegotiation requires conjunction, union, alchemical coniunctio: coming together as equals, cooperation, and mutual amplification.
Specific boundaries and a re-negotiation of relationship roles will be necessary; it’s a long road, with difficult work, but success is possible—and Saturn’s success, hard-won though it may be, is transcendent.
Card Summary
CHIRON: wounded healer, working on improving despite pain, drawing on pain in order to heal
VULCAN: fiery craftsman, channeling inner fire/pain into productive beautiful art, confronting shadow and winning, transforming issues into growth
DRAM: alchemical measurement, more/a lot of the previous cards
OUROBOROS: cycles, continuing, the end is in the beginning and the beginning is in the end
CONJUNCTION: two energies coming together, aligning, and each amplifying their positive energies through relationship
SATURN: clear boundaries, time, work, reaping what you sow, considering the role you play
Deeper Dive
To me, the benefit of a symbolic system like this is that you can always go deeper and deeper, into both personal and historical associations. The symbols stack and inter-relate, and when taken as a whole they can paint a rich, unique picture that provides actionable lessons that parallel teachings from wisdom traditions and psychology. Read on.
Chiron was known as “the good Centaur” in Greco-Roman mythology. A son of Saturn, he was the trainer of all the heroes: Jason, Patroclus, Achilles, and Asclepius—god of healing. In the myths, Chiron is accidentally struck with one of the poisonous, hydra-blood arrows of Hercules. This can be taken to represent the way that masculine, aggressive, forward motion toward a perceived goal can inadvertently undermine inner and outer balance—with disastrous results.
Crucially, as “the good Centaur,” Chiron represents the triumph of our higher human-consciousness over our animal natures. This is important here; when tensions are high, we all have a monster within that tends to come out. Especially in the beginnings of a journey toward repair, we must learn to follow the higher side, fighting the urge to react without careful thought. Chiron is, among other things, the ability to put ourselves aside in favor of a higher ideal.
Chiron—an immortal—isn’t killed by Hercules’s arrow, but instead continues on in agony, doing his best to continue his work. Eventually, he frees the imprisoned Prometheus—seen by many as the representation of our highest selves—by trading places with him. Jupiter (Zeus in the Greek) sees this, and spares Chiron his continued torment by bringing him to the sky as a constellation, thus welcoming him to the heavens. Psychologically, this can be seen as integrating the wounds of past experience in favor of empowering the better self.
Continuing on that theme is the god Vulcan—a strikingly similar figure. Vulcan (Hephaestus in Greek myth) was a god of fire and forge, crafting and the arts. He was born to Juno, queen of the gods, but was deemed an unworthy child. Always super chill, Juno (aka Hera) throws Vulcan off a cliff, irreparably damaging his legs, making him “the lame god”. Cast out and wounded from a young age, Vulcan is a success story: not letting his horrible past ruin him, he learns to channel that and becomes the greatest artist in the world—and is eventually welcomed back to Olympus. Another child of Juno, Typhon—also an outcast deity of fire—represents the flip side of this story. Instead of channeling it into something productive, Typhon lets his darkness run rampant, bringing the fires of destruction right to heaven’s doorstep.
Psychologically, Vulcan and Typhon represent two different outcomes of the same situation. Vulcan is denied, repressed, pushed into the shadow, but through his fiery passion and creativity, he is redeemed and elevated to Olympus. This redemption is very much what therapy, shadow work, and a proper creative outlet can provide. Typhon is likewise denied, repressed, pushed into the shadow—but he remains there, growing and growing, his unaddressed rage ever increasing, unchecked, until he’s finally unleashed—wreaking horrible destruction, and nearly toppling the gods.
Typhon is ultimately defeated, and imprisoned under a volcano—pushed back into the underworld, erupting every so often, as unhealed wounds are wont to do. But Vulcan is given an incredible divine workshop, where he created all the treasures of the gods, and lives in harmony with Charis—the spirit of beauty, production, and human creativity. Where is that divine workshop located? Exactly on top of Typhon’s volcano. We can either harness and channel our fiery dark side, or we can let it destroy everything around us. Don’t be a Typhon, be Vulcan.
The third card here is Dram, which is actually quite simple: the alchemists used dram as a unit of measure. In the deck, we use it to represent the idea of “more” or “a lot of” the cards around it. Getting Chiron and Vulcan together is almost too perfect for the situation, and the message is clear. Instead of a third card complicating the message, the deck just said “HEY, LOOK AT THOSE LAST TWO CARDS. MORE OF THAT.” More of putting others first, working through wounds, and past traumas. More of facing the past, channeling anger, confronting the shadow, and turning it into something beautiful—through work.
The fourth card, the Ouroboros, is a symbol that recurs in a great many ancient cultures, far and wide. The serpent eating its tail represents the cyclical nature of existence, the ever turning wheel of fortune, and the idea of eternal recurrence: what has come before will come again. In this context, I see the card as a reminder that the work in the above row isn’t “one and done”—it’s an ongoing process, always. There will be days you feel like “we did it!” And there will be days where you feel like “everything’s horrible.” Don’t assume you’re done on the good days, and don’t give up on the bad days; this is a normal part of the process.
In hermetic philosophy, there’s an idea that yes, these cycles recur, but they don’t necessarily recur the same way every time. In this case, think not of a circle but of a spiral unfolding upward; each time round again, you get a little better. That’s the goal of this card: recognizing the work as an ongoing process; there will be challenges, but to take a longer view and focus on long term improvement over moment to moment ups and downs.
Our next card is Conjunction—honestly, I was taken aback by just how specific and relevant this reading was. Conjunction is the cosmic principle of two things coming together, aligning, and coming together in a way that makes the energy of each thing better: a kind of harmony. I’d just like to point out that this is not a pollyanna-ish deck; there are complicating and even negative cards in this category, including Opposition and Square. Opposition would’ve meant these energies are at odds; Square would mean these energies cancel out. But instead we have Conjunction, and it comes in the perfect spot. Despite the ups and downs of the cycle indicated by the Ouroboros, that cycle is ever moving toward Conjunction. This needs to be the North Star for the relationship, and each individual in the relationship. The focus on the ideal of Conjunction needs to be the overarching goal: for every action, every discussion, every fight, every tender moment, be focused on “how can I act in order to move us further toward conjunction?” There’s a bit of old wisdom that states, “there are three people in every relationship: the first person, the second person, and the entity of the relationship itself.” That third “person” needs to be the one whose interests the other two are looking out for—all the time. Not just in good times, but in the worst times too. This is hard, but it gets easier through practice—Ouroboros—and with clear roles and boundaries, as seen in our next card…
Saturn, the Roman god of many things, is often seen as a challenging symbol. He encompasses the totality of existence—all the light, and all the dark. There’s a transcendent element to Saturn, and the Olympian gods each inherited their specific roles and powers from him; Ceres’s power over Earth’s bounty, Jupiter’s lordship over the sky, Juno’s sense of law and boundary, Vesta’s inner fire, Poseidon’s raw, emotional power, Hades’s brooding, introspective will—all come from Saturn. Even after he was deposed as king of the gods, he was an incredibly important figure. One of the most beloved Roman festivals was the Saturnalia—comparable to Christmas or Yule, it was a week of feasting and, crucially, role reversal: slaves were served by their masters, and social norms were overturned. The festival pointed back to Saturn’s golden age, where work and discipline werenot required to receive the fruits of the land; I think a careful examination of how roles are being played out in this relationship is required, and potentially a big change in roles is required to move forward.
Saturn is incremental growth; he is form, he is construction, he is order, he is careful progress, he is an inner exploration that is at once painful and transformative. The scythe he wields can be seen as the civilizing force: with each successive generation, the scythe symbolizes the power of elevated consciousness, and the forward movement of existence toward the next stage. But it’s hard won: Saturn is the liminal figure of evolution, the hinge between the titanic, the unconscious, the raw animal potential of life, and the advent of consciousness—civilization, focus, and elevation. In his best aspect, he can be seen as the way humanity should be; civilized and orderly while still deeply in touch with the Earth. He was the lord of the Golden Age, the original guardian of humanity, and is in my opinion, the perfect card to sum up this particular reading: there can be success, but only through real effort, boundaries, balance, and the painful growth of consciousness emerging from the animal. Saturn can do anything, but it’s a road that requires work.
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Thanks for reading! Have any questions? Have an alternate reading of the cards? Want a reading for yourself? Reach out! More info and pre-orders are available at https://standupforthegods.com!
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—John Selig writes about the intersection of myth, psychology, and the occult — with an eye toward making life a little more interesting for all of us. Follow along at @standupforthegods