(Essay) Counting to Three by Hearth Moon Rising

The following is an excerpt from Divining with Animal Guides: Answers from the World at Hand by Hearth Moon Rising, recently published by Moon Books. It is available online in paperback or ebook form and at your bookstore.

Triangles are prominent in Neolithic art. Anatolia, 2000 BCE.

When I was beginning my study of the occult I was taught to avoid even numbers in favor of the odd. Odd numbers allow for continuity, I was told.

In ceremonies of some Native American tribes I observed that leaders tended to avoid odd numbers and favored the numbers four, six, and twelve. Even numbers provide stability, I was told.

When I began studying feminist witchcraft I was told the Abrahamic religions (Judaism, Christianity, Islam) were patriarchal because they were dualistic, and therefore inevitably fell into harmful dichotomies of good/evil, heaven/hell, enlightenment/ignorance, etc.

While exploring Taoist spirituality I learned that the number two was complementary, simultaneously creating the paradoxical qualities of tension and balance, thereby leading to wisdom.

When I looked into Vedic philosophy the number two was out (dualism again) and the number three was exalted because it described the infinity inherent in the cycles of creation, sustenance, and destruction.

Numeric philosophy differs according to ethnicity, and there are obvious pitfalls in naively mixing and matching symbology without respecting the underlying structures. At the same time, what strikes me about the above scenarios is that they do reflect a common understanding about the nature of numbers, with the differences more reflective of cultural values than with disagreements about the basic qualities of numbers themselves. This is to be expected, since numbers themselves are real things, not cultural constructs, even if the language of mathematics is constructed. A dozen eggs is a dozen eggs, anywhere in the universe. Stating a preference for odd numbers as agents of “continuity” is professing a value for progress over tradition. Using odd versus even numbers in your shamanic practice depends on whether you view your work as promoting change or maintaining balance.

Western magical traditions are built on number systems with European, Semitic, Sumerian, and Egyptian origins. Semitic cultures revere the number two, European the number three, Egyptian the number four, and Sumerian the number seven, although these systems do not revolve around a single number. If you’re thinking this could get complicated, you’re right, but we will concentrate on basic qualities of the numbers themselves and avoid getting unduly bogged down in cultural contradictions.

One
This is the number for the all-that-is: Creator, Goddess, or Great Mother. The wholeness of the number one is exemplified in the circle, which has no angles or sides; no beginning or end. The fundamental reality of the number one is easy to grasp intellectually, even if it is harder to understand experientially. This number must be feminine, since it contains everything and gives birth to all other numbers by division of itself. In other words, one is the parthenogenetic number. The majority of numeric systems seem to divide numbers into masculine and feminine, a practice I disagree with, but with the first number the feminine is inescapable. The number one will usually not be relevant in a predictive sense, unless you run across an individual animal that is usually paired or grouped. Then you must ask yourself, why only one?

Two
This is a highly unique number, because it is the only positive whole number that does not exist in the scope of totality. When one splits itself into two parts there are now two entities individually, plus the entities as a whole, making three. This is synthesis, in Taoist terms the resolution of Yin and Yang. Two is the polarity that as a whole becomes a unified field. Two is the number of the couple, yet in marital counseling the therapist views the relationship as an important third element rather than conceptualizing the couple as two individuals. Despite what I said earlier about even numbers being more stable, two is a highly unstable number. Think of a teeter totter or a pendulum: this number seeks balance but is easily pushed into disequilibrium. Two is the number of the twins, who seek both association and individuation. Stories of divine twins abound in mythology around the world. So do stories of divine couples. Before monotheism won out, the Hebrew ruling divinity was a mother-father pair, El and Asherah. The concept of masculine and feminine divinity reasserted itself later in Jewish mysticism with the Kabbalah. Another common pairing in Western mythology is mother-child (Frigga and Baldur; Demeter and Persephone) and same-sex friends (Gilgamesh and Enkidu; Athena and Pallas). With the number two, think attraction, repulsion, resolution, individuation, sameness, opposites, and a lot of contradictory concepts that are hard to wrap your mind around. I said it was an unstable number. It is also the only even prime number.

Although some numbers, such as one, three, and nine, will have strong Goddess associations, I caution against automatically applying a masculine/feminine dichotomy to numbers. The number one as the totality of everything must be female, or there could be no birth; otherwise, there is no fundamental reason for sexing a number.

Equilateral triangle (left) and right triangle (right).

Three
Now we get to the critical number for those of European heritage, possible proof that pagan programming endures underneath all that Christianization. Ask a Jehovah’s Witness for their thoughts on the word “trinity” and you’re bound to get an earful. The Father/Son/Holy-Ghost triad (“God in Three Persons; Blessed Trinity,” as we sang in church when I was growing up) has no scriptural basis and was introduced because Europeans simply could not stop thinking in threes. “Why do we always give three referrals,” a social work colleague of mine mused aloud one day. “Why don’t we give two or four or five?” The answer is, because of the three blind mice, and the three little pigs, and the third time’s the charm. There, I just gave three answers to a question with three parts; try to stop thinking and talking in threes for three days and you’ll understand how pervasive this thought pattern is.

The most basic shape, the triangle, has three sides and three angles. You can draw a line between two angles on any polygon with more than three sides to form a triangle inside that shape, but you cannot reduce a triangle. Understanding the mathematical relationships between the sides of right triangles (the Pythagorean Theorem, a2 + b2 = c2) enabled engineers of the earliest temples to build on triangular units.

The Romano-Celtic Matronae (seated) are usually but not always depicted as three women. The convention is for one of the figures to be smaller or without a headdress to signify that she is the youngest. Germany, second century. Photo: Brigid Piron/Wikimedia Commons.

Depending on how it is manipulated, a triangle can focus, amplify, disperse, and balance energy. Creative power is exemplified by a woman’s pubic triangle, and the nine legs of pregnancy, divided in three parts, describe the journey from conception to birth. During the first trimester pregnancy is confirmed, and while the nausea most common in these months has a physiological basis, there is the psychological element of having committed oneself, of having, in Sylvia Plath’s words, “Boarded the train there’s no getting off.” The second trimester is a time of planning. The baby begins to show and move, making itself less abstract and more real in the minds of expectant adults. The last trimester is an edgy time. While miscarriage is more common in the earliest months, risks to the mother between this point and birth become greater. New mothers, weary of the physical discomforts of pregnancy, become anxious to see and hold their baby, while experienced mothers, who know how much work is involved in caring for an infant, are content to let the baby hang out in the womb a bit longer.

Relief of Hecate as a triple goddess. Photo: Zdenek Kratochvil/Wikimedia Commons.

The association of three with fertility and birth explains why there are so many triple goddesses. Iron Age images of the three Celtic mother goddesses, known to us by their Roman name, the Matronae, were once common in Western Europe, and these goddesses are considered both a triple and a single unit, like a triangle with three angles.

Another triple goddess is Hecate, originally (in my opinion) a goddess of the waterways, incarnate in the water-loving willow tree. Later she became goddess of the three-formed crossroad. Streams tend to converge in a Y and organic paths, as opposed to planned roadways, also tend to fork in a Y. Hecate is sometimes drawn with three faces or sides, but she is usually considered a single figure with three aspects. In life there are three roads and three roads only: the road you take, the road you don’t take, and the road you leave behind. The future is the juncture that greets us at every step.

 

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