The Semiotics of Trickster Fox

“I do believe in an everyday sort of magic — the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we’re alone.” ~ Charles de Lint

“All of us, whether or not we are warriors, have a cubic centimeter of chance that pops out in front of our eyes from time to time. The difference between an average man and a warrior is that the warrior is aware of this, and one of his tasks is to be alert, deliberately waiting, so that when his cubic centimeter pops out he has the necessary speed, the prowess, to pick it up.” ~ Carlos Castaneda

In the point of rest at the center of our being, we encounter a world where all things are at rest in the same way. Then a tree becomes a mystery, a cloud a revelation, each man a cosmos of whose riches we can only catch glimpses. The life of simplicity is simple, but it opens to us a book in which we never get beyond the first syllable.” ~ Dag Hammarskjöld

Hope comes and goes. Day to day kind of stuff. That’s what I get out of my daily consumption of news. Yet overall I have a feeling, beyond hope, that in spite of the nasty habits US citizens are picking up, or just plain revealing, from our cringe-worthy chief executive, things are going to work out okay. I’m waiting for that day when Trump will be like a cat clinging to the curtain when you try to remove her. Sure, the at home remedy for such behavior is a water bottle equipped with a sprayer. The cat may look at you like you are the biggest asshole ever, but it will let go of the curtains. Now, for a fella as big as Trump, it may be best to use a water canon instead. Just sayin’. Whatever. This morning I have the fox on my mind. On my way home from work yesterday evening I was headed north on US64, just south of the two Mexican import stores in El Prado, which some folks call “Little Juarez’. Traffic was pretty heavy, mostly peopled by folks who are into group tailgating. Friggin science deniers seem to think the laws of physics don’t apply to them. Newton’s First Law of Motion, duh. Anyway, from the right shoulder of the highway came a little animal, hauling ass at near-light speed, arrow straight, long fluffy tail parallel to the tarmac. The sight evoked a little gasp as I instantly recognized the plight of the beastie. But my worries were unfounded; the animal narrowly avoided oncoming traffic in both lanes. I knew what it was. Too small to be a coyote, yet still moving sorta like a canine. Well, almost. To me it seems . . . oh, never mind. It was a red fox. So this morning I am savoring the meaning of Fox totem medicine, and from what I read I like it a lot, and it is definitely apropos to my current life. Good on me, right? Yeh. Of course, I am inclined to go straight to the semiotics of the sighting, like this (what I read) is what it means, so what am I going to do with the knowledge of the symbolism. That kind of thing. It’s not so much what you know, it’s how you use it, and what’s in it for me. Turns out Fox is a Trickster, and I have an affinity for the Trickster. Most of the neopagans of my acquaintance seem to disdain and mistrust the Trickster. But, sure, what good is a Trickster if you actually trust them? I admire and respect the Trickster. But trust? No. To trust the Trickster pretty much exempts you from any lessons he may bring. I will not discuss the actual symbols here. Fox is quite a magical creature as well, and can act as a guide into the Faery Realm. I’d be up for that – there’s a lot in that realm besides faeries. The bottom line here is that the fox made it across the road. Maybe he was chasing that chicken everybody always talks about.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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