Strength

XI

Strength... and not just any strength, but Madame Josie Arlington herself.

The notorious madam of Storyville, queen of her domain when desire had its own district in our city. Look at her there, seated on her famous bed, the very place where fortunes were spent and secrets were shared. Not fighting the alligator, but commanding it. One hand gentle on its scales, the other firmly opening its jaws.

And see this? The mark of infinite power—not the brute force that breaks, but the enduring strength that bends, adapts, overcomes. Josie knew this power well. A woman who rose from nothing to build an empire in a man's world, who transformed her circumstances through sheer force of will.

Storyville was New Orleans' experiment with controlled vice, chéri. For twenty years, jazz flowed from its parlors while pleasure was bought and sold under ornate ceilings. And at the Basin Street mansion with the red light, Josie Arlington reigned supreme—not through muscle or violence, but through understanding of human nature, through finesse, through carefully calibrated control.

When Strength arrives in this form, she speaks not of domination but of mastery—particularly mastery of the untamed aspects of yourself. The fears, the passions, the hungers that might otherwise consume you. Josie didn't deny the existence of desire; she channeled it, gave it beautiful rooms with velvet curtains, made it profitable.

This beast she sits upon—it represents all that is primal and potentially destructive. But notice how at ease she appears. The true strength is not in slaying our inner beasts but in making peace with them, even harnessing their power while respecting their danger.

There's a situation in your life that cannot be resolved through force. Something that requires the softer touch of patience, persistence, compassion—even as you remain uncompromising in your boundaries. Like Josie, you're being called to display courage without aggression, power without brutality.

New Orleans remembers Madame Arlington not just for her notorious profession, but for her philanthropy, her business acumen, her refusal to be shamed for her choices. They say her ghost still walks Basin Street, and that her tomb in Metairie Cemetery—that scandalous red marble monument—still glows on stormy nights, defiant even in death.

What wild energy are you trying to tame? What situation requires you to be both gentle and firm, both compassionate and unyielding? Where must you touch the very thing you fear, opening its jaws not to render it harmless, but to understand its power?

Strength assures you that you have what it takes—not despite your vulnerabilities, but because of how you've learned to work with them. Like Josie on her alligator throne, you can transform danger into alliance if you approach it with respect rather than fear.

Remember this: True strength isn't about never feeling afraid. It's about moving forward with grace, even when your heart pounds and your hands tremble. It's about the quiet determination that outlasts the roar.