More trust. This is a hard won place to drag yourself through. Even with a happy childhood - outside forces can bend your trust - over time. Who we are is resonant. The littlest thing can happen to one person - life long wound. Another individual has the resilient make up that allows things to fall way as they walk along. Maybe we have some of both. Blind trust - positivity and optimism over the top - is not where I sit. I am a questioner. I am mutable around trust. I can forgive. The ragged scar might be tucked in there. A world gone wrong - has maybe always been that way. It’s not a bummer to speak about this. Real conversations that allow. LIstening. Made up minds as one way thinking stagnates - mutilates while it stagnates. I cry easily. That helps. I wonder - when did all of a sudden show up as platforms with placards. Talking points here. Remember - always. That person standing in front of you - has a long lived life if their hair has started turning silver. Trust that there has been some important lived experience you - I - can learn from. Telling it like it is - is telling it like it is from one’s own lens - ideas - lived experience. The soft places we might admire of sitting by the fire - well - to get to that soft place of seeing and listening only comes from listening to the voices that are maybe only in your head. Quiet around the fire. Whisper invites a strained - forced - arrival at this moment. That persons brain. Fire away dendrites.
The Gentle Tarot - Five of Cups
Human depths of sadness - ring found round the earth. Ideation of horror comes from I do not know where. A possession of empty hollowed out blanks - simmer in places unseen and unknown - unknowable. Cups spilled in a life absent of warmth - plenty - flowers. Can a medicine of two cups fill the empty cups lacking in depth of unfathomable. Each born in tender arrival - mixture of expectation - dread - moment uninvited. Deeper exploration perhaps finds explanation - excuse - rational. Vacant. Dark cloak holds shoulders on, baring the weight of atrocity. Inhumanity. Walk carefully - looking into lava that is about to rupture in one explosive fissure ignited. For all of time - inventive structures hardened into lack of honey or water smooth. Cement builds cruelty - tears cease to fall - disbelief. Carried misery for all with the hidden violence of some - too many - too much. Let the hood of cloaks fall - see into the hungry eyes that need bread.
Artwork by Wendell Minor.
The Empress Card: The Gentle Tarot by @mariinthesky
Empress holds the world of fox dens and bear lakes as I walk under a blue sky of birds - suitcase packed.
Gentle Tarot by mariinthesky
Soft learning in a field that you have walked many times in sure footedness,
Evergreen mother pine will take care of your wanting - pine sap nurturing - collecting deliberate needles one by one. Placed in a basket - having seen many years of harvest. You carry the basket with love on your arm. The swish of the basket moves against your dress and catches like breath skipping beats in anticipation of good medicine.
Two by two - perched on the edge of your life you seek - with another
It is a risk to be bravely setting out on a new journey of forgetting the before.
You place the before of all the times into the basket - worn from beating the path of resistance.
Step off toward the sky - falling into chasms, into ocean, into debris - into the becoming.
Carried friendships - yourself bound to your own beating heart - maybe a bee comes along for company,
Few concentric circles will provide a repeating pattern for you to get this correct with yourself.
Red tipped wing carries an army of diligence within your warring psyche - keep watch,
Remember to always look over your shoulder - surveillance will remember where to find you.
Survey your landscape ahead as the wind rips at your resting wings, a love that requires you to speak into the memory of before. The time when the direction you were going was paved with some sort of glassine beauty - crunching under foot as another friend forgot who you were.
Tightly curled thoughts - dreams huddle inside the cocoon that you create to shelter in the green causeway of berry bushes. Enough berries for you to survive a winter or maybe a lifetime on. Sparse is not a pleasurable way to maneuver in the wild world. There ought to be enough - even in the dark times. The care times come when another shares their basket or bagful of nourishment or seeds.
The seed of Saturn is requiring work - contemplation - organization - lasting bounty displays there is more than enough. For You. For All. Tuck away in the basket stores for the coming winters of when there is not enough. It has nothing to do with Trust.
A moon journey is coming. It will be a dark night with bright sky of moon that obscures what illumination tends to hide when we are full as the moon - of ourselves. Remember to forget that everything you know is a story. Stories are worth carrying and worth knowing. - mostly they are worth remembering if the flow of enough is present. Aloneness or lost belonging magnification from the prismed rainbows - glaring sun chasing your parched desires for connection to another - the other.
I hand off my dance of stars - twinkle of catch - lapse of judgement to another. There you are ready to catch what is missing in the globe of humanity - or world of missing beetles - or turtles - or help.
All you can do is turn outward - away from yourself and your beating doubts. Hope that geranium might give you an eyewash of clear seeing - tucked inside the folds of your tired eyes.
Soft learning becomes hard learning - more like hard forgetting and hard wonder -
Two times learning - both inner knowledge - outer recognition of oceanic subjects swirl in blood,
The basket holds the pieces of twig medicine required for creating - putting your weapons down.