I wrote a long paper on The Archetype of the Trickster years ago that I must unearth and rediscover. In many tribal traditions and in Court traditions all over Europe, one of the most carefully assigned of sacred duties is that of the jester, trickster or clown, whose duty it was to inject humor and utter confusion into the otherwise very serious and reverential attitudes toward the weighty rituals and responsibilities of tribal or court life. The idea is that if everyone involved will also see the light side of the situation, the obvious margin for errors, then everyone would be less likely to take themselves too seriously. 

The joker could openly, unflatteringly imitate and call the king or shaman an ass, demonstrate what might be absurd and ridiculous, and it was everyone’s job to look at these potentials with wisdom and humor. If someone else, not assigned to that job, did the same thing it could be considered an act of treason. This was not at all about creating anarchy, it was about creating a conscious way for the kings and advisors to see their fallibility,  flaws and absurdness even as they were succeeding in their leadership.

A couple of days ago I was working hard on the final details of address lists, edits, etc. so that I could send my new website out to my e-mail list on the New Moon day that had become my personal deadline. A good day to finally stop the months of messing with it, say just  get’er done and finish.

As I was hard at work  fixing the hundreds of little lists and glitches, focusing on every detail,  out of nowhere the universe sent me a most remarkable situation to deal with, something  way beyond my experience and background. I was really thrown in this situation, turned inside out and upside. In case I might have had one moment to take myself too seriously, this strange incident took care of it. I was still able to get the message off to my mailing list, but by the time it was sent I felt an idiot. That is exactly what the trickster archetype wants. Sheesh I didn’t get even five minutes, or even one minute, of feeling just ok about myself. But good on you, Kokopelli, you get the job done and I honor you.