Trickster Fox Fortune Teller

 

Kit Fox Woman

I consider myself to be a spiritual person but I’m not at all “religious.” I’m equal opportunity when it comes to dieties. I see value in all religions but prefer my own brand of trickster-touched goof-blessed omen-seeking freakdom. I’m an ontological anarchist.

Years ago my dad admired an elaborate altar I’d done inside an antique medicine cabinet which I’d saved from the trash. “That’s an amazing altar, ” he raved. “Though to what God or Goddess of Ephemera, I don’t know.” 

On facebook, I paraphrased Madonna when describing my religious beliefs: I’m living in a magical world and I am a magical world.

I believe in shamans, string-theory, sno-cones.

I don’t believe I’m going to hell for cussing like a sailor, screwing like a dirty monkey, tripping the light fandango, dancing the Robot, or loving the sinner. 

If I’m wrong and hell awaits, well, I’d rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints cause, as Billy Joel sang, the sinners are much more fun.

In the novel Fight Club , the author Chuck Palahniuk suggests that we see God in the faces of our fathers. Your father influences your idea of God. Your God reflects your father. I found that fascinating because my father once drunkenly pissed on a 100 year old ancient Navajo rug which is classic Coyote. No wonder I consider Lewis Hyde’s Trickster Makes This World to be my bible! No wonder Gogol Bordello is gospel singing “When the Trickster Starts a Pokin’ “!

If I “worship” anything, it’s the Trickster. If I have a god, it’s Eshu. If I had to find religion, I’d say “Silliness is next to foxiness.”

But I like to stay open to awe where ever it may be. Momentary missionaries abound! Like in that song by Marc Cohen where he meets the Gospel legend in Memphis and she asks him, “Tell me are you a Christian, child?” and he sez, “Ma’am, I am tonight.” 

Curious about posts by Trickster Fox Fortune Teller? Hit the “Trickster” tag to be led to oh so many posts that celebrate the chaotic gifts of the Trickster. 

(the above painting by Miss Van, the one above that by J.L. Schnable)

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