I’m a little bit lost, friends.
I recently moved in with a partner for the first time in almost a decade, along with the world’s most amazing kiddo. It’s been wonderful and thrilling and challenging and hard and also all the regular boring things that life always is and also also the standard complement of cool shit and hard shit that goes along with being an extremely gay gender weirdo in an unconventional relationship format that does not come with any kind of roadmap.
I would do it all again in a second AND it’s kicking my ass. My ass is 100% kicked. I haven’t been able to get my feet under myself emotionally, and some old, old shit is coming up for me.
It came to a head recently, and I went on a long walk in the forest with my best friend and yelled about my feelings and fell in a river (it was very shallow, don’t worry) and then I started going to therapy again. And my therapist was like, friend. What are you doing? What happened to your tarot practice and all the stuff you do to ground yourself and remember who you are?
Longstoryshort, she sent me home with a bunch of homework and this afternoon I set up my altar (after three months, wow, no wonder I’ve been feeling like I’m sleepwalking all the time), and did a tarot reading.
I picked three cards: something to invite in, something to release, and a guiding star. I also pulled cards from both Slow Holler and Next World--it’s fun to see two different takes on the same cards!
I’m gonna start with the “something to release," even though it's the middle card, because I got the Knight of Cups and I feel PERSONALLY ATTACKED by this EXTREMELY ACCURATE CALLOUT. Like, go for it, Romeo. Go ahead and climb a mountain barefoot with no jacket and no food and no sleeping bag. Take your crab buddy with you in a little cup, what could go wrong, what do crabs even eat? Alternatively, get your goldfish and your horse and ride right the heck into the ocean. It will all work out! Do it for love!!!
Y’all, I’m walking up a mountain and I forgot to bring my shoes. It’s so understandable but also, so unsustainable.
My “something to invite in” is The Fool, and I think the relationship between The Fool and the Knight here is really interesting. They have a lot in common. The Fool is ready to jump off the cliff, or take a walk in the dark with their shoes untied, or hop a train to nowhere just to see what happens. Their curiosity is stronger than their fear; they are leaping and trusting the world and their inner resources to hold them.
On the surface, that leaping and risk-taking sounds a lot like the Knight. But The Fool is more about relationship with self than relationship with another. In this situation, I think it’s telling me I need to face the things that are scaring me with courage and curiosity, rather than avoiding my fears by immersing myself in relationship to the point that I lose myself.
The Fool gets lost, but not because they are hiding. They get lost because they are exploring. And they brought a buddy and a backpack! That’s the kind of lostness I need to invite in.
My “guiding star” is the Six of Pentacles, and I think it’s telling me that I need to think hard about how I’m distributing my resources. What energy am I putting into relationships and my loves, and what energy am I putting into myself? Into my community? How am I managing my material and emotional and spiritual resources? Am I distributing them in a way that matches my highest values? What kind of redistribution do I need right now? How can I approach that question with courage and curiosity? How can I let myself get lost, without losing myself?
I don’t know the answers to these questions yet, but I feel like I’m home again, and that’s more than enough right now.
Hello blog friends! It’s been a while. I haven’t been pulling cards regularly--I haven’t been doing most of my practices lately, tbh, and I’m really feeling it. I’ve had a ton of transition in my life over the last few months, and I’m feeling less like a big solid rock in a river and more like a handful of pebbles that have been tumbled and scattered down about twenty miles of riverbed. Like, it’s been fun to take a ride, but I also need to pull myself together again because the returns are diminishing, y’all.
Today I stayed home from work, because I'm just beyond exhausted, and I decided to pull a card of the day. Actually, I pulled two cards: one in a regular shuffle/cut situation, and one from the bottom of the deck. I got this idea from Beth Maiden; the one you pick first is your card and the one of the bottom of the deck is “ but not this,” so it modifies the original card.
I got the King of Pentacles, and the bottom card was the Ten of Wands.
The King of Pentacles is all about power in the material realm, and my initial impression was that this is about my job. This card is about reaching that place where you’ve hit your stride and you have work that takes care of your body and your home and your bank account; where you have material abundance.
That feels complicated for me right now. I do have my financial needs well covered at this job--well enough covered that I have serious survivor’s guilt, for having found a way to survive capitalism (for the moment), and for having the kinds of privilege that allowed me to get to that place of survival. But it also doesn’t really feel like security. When I didn’t have enough money, I was scared and stressed out a lot. Now I have enough, sort of? If I keep working until I die? And I still feel scared and stressed out, because I might lose it, and I ALSO feel guilty for having it right now when most people are struggling to make it with so much less.
Cristy C. Road wrote, “the King of Pentacles asks you to forgive yourself for the journey you are on.” I think that’s the biggest challenge here--how do you find a measure of material security in this world and have compassion the choices you had to make to get there while also being in right relationship with community and accountability?
The other piece of that is the “not this” card, which is.... surprise!... the burnout card! Ten of Wands is about how you picked up all of these sticks because you were full of passion (each stick is a thing you felt passionately about) and it felt so good, or at least so important, when you picked it up--and now you have way too many goddamn sticks.
This feels so true for me. At first I was thinking about this as being my job, but I just realized that this is also true about my home life right now. I feel like I’ve been picking up every stick I see that looks nice and feels good in the moment, but now here I am dropping sticks all over the place and not paying attention to which sticks are cute and nice but can also be set down for a minute with no serious consequences and which sticks actually cannot get dropped.
So maybe these cards, which at first seemed like, your job is burning you out and you need to quit and believe that you can find another way to experience material security and also find a more grounded way to engage with your privilege and survivor’s guilt (which is 100% definitely true but also not a big revelation), is actually telling me that I need to dig into what home and security mean to me and do some prioritization of all these sticks I’ve got right now.
Because I’m dropping sticks that are my relationship with myself. I dropped them because there were some other sticks that I really really wanted and I couldn’t figure out how to carry both kinds of sticks and that’s super real and relatable. But the sticks that are my relationship with me, that are about caring for my body and mind and spirit, are actually not droppable. Not for long.
I need to find a way to hold myself first and then see what other sticks fit in my hands. I need to be courageous enough to face all the truths that arise as a result of that process, and creative enough to imagine new ways of being until I have the sticks I need.