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Tribal Lynx
John Sacelli - Shaman & Astrologer
Chris Deschaine - Artist & Graphic Designer


Words are spelled because they are castings of spells. 'Word' comes from Olde English or Nordic 'wyrd' (also the root of 'weird') which meant a spelling or casting of fate. When words are spelled they are combined into 'sentences' - and we are 'sentenced to live by the words we have spoken, the spells we cast'.

Some years back, when I was receiving my 'Shaman's Visions' or 'Medicine Dreams', the totem which came to me in the Dreamtime was a Lynx. After a while I began to find that I could enter the dream consciously, and travel with the lynx. These dream-time journeys went into other lands and cultures, but also into the past, and eventually 'other dimensions'. In addition, a group of people began to assemble around me who shared some of these past-life visions and experiences, a group which I came to call my 'soul circle'. At some point I had an abrupt realization: linking up to these people and experiences were 'the links' - another 'spelling' or dimension of 'lynx'. This was the beginning of my tutorial in 'Angelish', which my inner guides described, humorously, as the 'Original Language'. That 'words are wyrds' was a part of that teaching.

These 'inner teachers' were a raucus lot. They were equally apt to show up in my dreamscape in the image of Plato or Pluto, Einstein or Elvis, the Goddess Isis or Mae West. But other times they claimed to be a tribe of primitives, the land-dwelling males looking rather wolfish (though with hands), and the females living in the sea like mermaids with long green hair. What their mating rituals were like I won't try to describe. This outlandish appearance, and their tendency to shapeshift, they claimed said something about who they were, but equally a great deal about who I was. Because, according to them, I was actually one of them. A magician or magi. A part of their clan, tribe or nation. Specifically, we were all magicians, members of the tribe of the I Magi Nation. And that collectively, by our spellings and our visions (our imagination), we created the world.

I told them that insight was a flash of genius! "Genie us!" they applauded.

But it was also a little dangerous to think you had that kind of power, wasn't it? "Danger, us!" they concurred.

But couldn't this kind of logic screw up your mind, leave you insane? "In seine", they nodded; "caught in your own net."

And how does one come to learn Angelish! I pressed on. "Intuition," they replied. "To go to college and learn from others, pay tuition. To learn from self, pay intuition."

Over and over, the 'guides' asked me to listen more deeply to the words I was speaking. The word 'soul', for instance. Why is 'soul' a homonym (pronounced the same) as 'sole'. Because, to 'have soul', you must be uniquely (solely) yourself, you must have discovered your own unique sole, or solo, self. Okay, I could understand that. But they pressed on: why then do we have our 'souls' (soles) in the bottoms of our feet? Because a 'soul' which is not grounded in something greater than self is only an ego, a pretense. To really have soul, you must have both, be a unique expression of a greater whole. You cannot have soul without having community (grounding).

Another of my early favorites in Angelish was the word 'pray', whose soundalike is 'prey'. How different are those two! But the guides (donning gauzy angel wings and devil horns) insisted not. To prey without prayer, they agreed, is heartless, empty and cruel. But - to pray without prey, they added, is impotent. Life is vital when love and power work together.

Then there were the various forms of dancing the 'angels' showed me. For instance, there was transcendance - the 'trance end dance'. To escape boredom and rigidity, dance the trance-end-dance! Or take the word 'abundance'. If you seek prosperity, well then, you have to move your ass (the females flashed their curvaceous mermaidly tails) - a bun dance! I was a little embarrassed looking at their cute (but somewhat fishy) posteriors. They giggled and pointed back at me. I looked down to find that I was also without a stitch of clothing. 'Embarrassed', they grinned (still shaking their booties) means 'I'm bare-assed'. Which, however, is not the same thing as ascendance - the ass end dance, or ungrounded desire to fly away. Or avoidance, a void dance, dancing alone.

That was all very cute, I told them, but I was cynical. I accused the guides of making bad puns. "Ah, cynical," they replied, wagging now their fingers (or paws or fins) at me. "The 'cynical' is the 'sin I call'. What I denounce in others, I make part of myself."

I became irate with the constant punning: "Irate!" they retorted," - the I-rate! The cost of separation."

The males and females were all still dancing, a twisting erotic spiral. You guys are more than a little kinky, I told them. "You the same as us," they responded. "All family. A little kin-key."

They moved faster and began to sparkle, shimmering vortices of light. Then slowed a bit, and I saw the forms of fairies. The fairies gathered together and took on the shape of the lynx. Then separated out into fairies again. "We're all fairies," they seemed to be saying, then turned collectively into a ferry boat, "because it's our job to ferry you back and forth between this reality and others."

They became the Lynx again. "It's all magic," they said. "Every part of reality. People used to know that they were magical. That everything was alchemy. That everyone was all key me. You think alchemists were trying to change lead into gold? They were changing 'led' into 'goaled'. Changing passive lives under the control of others int purposeful lives in which people set their own goals. Alchemy - all key me."

I asked them why they called their language Angelish. "Because we think in Feminist Mathematics," they told me. "Ma-Thematics, the Mother's Themes. The Tree of Life in the Garden of Eden was Geometry, the Geo-Me-Tree. Angels are angles. That's why a big important angel is called an Archangel while a big important angle is called an arc angle. We all come from God. Each one of us is the radius, or Ray Dius (ray of God) of our own spere of being.

There was more. A lot more. So much in fact that I eventually compiled an entire Dictionary of Angelish. (Appearing as soon as they find me a publisher. You can be an angel too if you have any contacts here.)

But sometimes I think it's all too much. Why do I listen to you? I asked them.

"Because," they said.

Because what?

"Be cause. Or be caused." And they were gone.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Angelynx. A divination deck. John Sacelli. Chris Deschaine.