Sunday, December 20, 2009

December 20, 2009 - The World & The Five of Teacups


I'm beginning to realize that it's not enough to know what I need to know but how to get there. The question "What do I need to know today...." only gets me so far. The devil, they say, is in the details, and the Five of Cups is the details. I'm developing a better sense of the depth of the Minor Arcana these days. The big picture is important. They are the horizon. But the Minor Arcana are the small, everyday acts that make up our days, they are the step by step path to get us there.

The World is a lovely card, about integrating, accomplishing, healing, savoring. It is a card of blessing and of knowing it, feeling it. When it shows up in a reading it tells you that you are close to achieving your heart's desire. It represents the kind of gift that's earned, something you've worked hard for, given much to get more. It is the last card of the Major Arcana, but not really for The Fool is truly the Alpha and the Omega and frankly any place along life's path it wants to be.

In the Jane Austen Tarot, The World is represented much as it is in the Rider-Waite - a flowering circle, the four elements in each corner. The woman or androgyne in the Rider-Waite Tarot is replaced by the loving couple, Emma Woodhouse and George Knightley. In Jane's world though, a woman dancing alone would not be a happy ending, and I suppose the same is true of mine. According to Diane Wilkes, the author of the Jane Austen Tarot, "The scene depicted in this card is the wedding of two souls who have grown in harmony with themselves and with one another. The flowering bush symbolizes not just their love, but also the garden of lives in bloom, despite and because of the travails of the world."

"Great," I think. "Worldly success. Happiness. Fulfillment." The best you could ask for in a reading. Then why is it so hard to imagine where I am and how I will possibly today get to this card, the World? I'm not in "The World" kind of space. Which leads me to ask the second question, the vital one, "how do I get there?" I want to be grateful. I want to be fulfilled. I want the wholeness The World card represents, the happiness implied in the Jane Austen Tarot's interpretation.

My "how" of today is the Five of Cups. I think the representation in the Rider-Waite Tarot, that dark, cloaked figure sorrowing over the three spilled cups, ignoring or forgetting the two still standing, is pretty fitting, much more appropriate to my circumstances than the Jane Austen Tarot depiction of George Wickham recounting his "sad" story to Elizabeth Bennett. Have I been guilty of dwelling on the worst of the last years as opposed to the best? Yes. Has my grief at times bordered on the extreme? Yes. I am reminded today of my Grandmother when my grandfather died. She would be conversing with us, living her life, and someone would knock on the door, a friend come to commiserate, and my Grandmother would switch to sorrow, not just tears, but wails that wold last the visit, and then she would be back to Grandma. This was how she channeled her grief and how space was made for it in her society, something we don't really have here. I had to get on with things, to keep a stiff upper lip, to keep working, keep mothering, doing all the things I needed to do, all the things people expected of me. My tears came in the late hours, in the dark, in the shower, in the few places that were mine alone. But time has passed and I wonder if grief has becomes more habit and history, than something real and deep. I wonder if I have found my own way to my Grandmother's drama and now it's time to move on.

What Would Jane Do?
"Life, by its very nature, contains disappointments both minor and severe. A sensitive person is likely to exaggerate the former and wallow in the latter. Look at your current situation and determine if you are truly giving yourself an appropriate and necessary time to grieve -- or if your response is out of proportion to the specific situation in question. It may even be necessary to examine your own role in your current state of unhappiness; unless you wish to make bewailing your state of affairs your modus operandi, you may want to break patterns of behavior that have kept you in less than sanguine circumstances."

Saturday, December 19, 2009

December 19, 2009 - The Two of Quills (Swords)

The Two of Swords is a card of decisions, or actually, that point just before, when you are weighing your options, that pause, that breath, that should I? There's no clear path and so you close your eyes, still yourself, and listen to that small, quiet voice that tells you what to do.

Of course the assumption is you can hear that small, quiet voice. I'm not sure anymore that I can. I have come to live in the moment since my bypass, but when it comes to should I or shouldn't I, life seems to be teaching me there are no shoulds, that every moment is fluid, that myriad possibilities come and go with every breath, every step.

In the Jane Austen Tarot, the Two of Quills is represented by Jane Fairfax, from Emma. On one side, Mrs. Elton urges Jane to choose the governess position she has found for her. A well-educated young lady with minimal prospects needs gainful employment if she cannot marry well. Mrs. Elton knows this and has found a position for Jane, unasked. On the other side of Jane kneels Frank Churchill, a handsome young man adopted by a wealthy family, who has secretly proposed marriage to Jane but will not announce it for fear that his adopted family will disapprove and disown him. As if this is not enough, Frank Churchill is a bit of a flirt. When he arrives in Highbury, he begins to flirt with Emma in front of Jane, causing Jane to doubt his intentions. She wants to trust Frank Churchill, her heart tells her she can, but logic tells her she needs to make it in the world, find a way to support herself, that Frank can't be trusted.

What Would Jane Do?
"When you feel you are unable to make a decision that you know both logically and emotionally to be correct, inaction is preferable to action. Decisions based on logic must be lived by someone with a heart, whereas a decision made quickly and emotionally is bound to be repented at leisure. Sooner or later, circumstance will demand that a choice be made, but conditions will inform that decision, so it will be more wisely made." (p. 103)

Friday, December 18, 2009

December 18, 2009 - Death

When the Death card comes up in a reading, I can't help but sigh. I understand as a card, despite the skeleton riding the pale horse, that it seldom represents actual death, but I find that of little comfort. Metaphorical deaths are painful, maybe just as painful as the real thing, maybe more. Material beings that we are, endings are as much a part of us as beginnings, death all part of the cycle, our cycle. And yet ....

The last few years have been full of endings, changes. I came close to death in the form of several heart attacks and bypass surgery. At this point, to be confronted by death once again, to face just one more major and transformational end seems nearly overwhelming. "Again? Really?" To everything there is a season and the wheel turns and that's supposed to provide comfort, and yet ....

In the Jane Austen Tarot, the Death card depicts Henry Dashwood, the patriarch of the novel Sense and Sensibility. The novel actually begins with his death. From this one event, devastating to the women in his life, his daughters, his second wife, a novel unfolds and while because it is a Jane Austen book we can assume there will be weddings by the end, the how of it and the who of it, the when and where of it, are the stuff of story, of us. It's easier to remember looking at this card, that the pain of endings can lead to remarkable and unimagined beginnings, that though we may "see" our future stretch before us as an unalterable course, it is only our imagination and anything and everything is possible, things we never even considered.

The Death card also talks about legacies, suggesting maybe it's time to think about them, plan for them, because you never know. I had my lesson this last year on sudden and life altering changes, on how quickly and irrevocably, things can happen, ends can come. Have I said what needs to be said to those I love? Have I given them all I wanted to? We need to expect the unexpected, or at least prepare for them. They're going to come, unexpected gifts, hurts that may be blessings in disguise, that's a given. We best be ready to ride out the storms.

What Would Jane Do?
"While death is not a subject one enjoys discussing, it's a subject that employs -- and enjoys -- the final word. Death is an aggravating reminder that preparation for the future must be both thorough and far-sighted. that our legacies are uncertain, and that none of us are immune from its bony fingers....Unalterable change may seem a bitter pill on initial ingestion, yet as the stages of the meal of life are placed upon our table, we may find the resultant foodstuffs unexpectedly to our taste. Bitter or sweet, we must continue to consume the fare we are served, in the order in which it is served. Digestion is, of course, another matter entirely."

Thursday, December 17, 2009

December 17, 2009 - The Seven of Teacups/Temperance



Sometimes when you ask a question of Tarot, the same card comes up again and again. Usually, in fact most of the time, the information is something you need to hear over and over, something that hasn't quite sunk in. Thick skull comes to mind, especially with me. There are things I know but I refuse to KNOW, until the universe and life pummels me into recognition and ultimately acceptance. For me, acceptance can take a long, long time. We're talking years. Yes, my skull is that thick, my denial that strong.

I've gotten the Seven of Teacups before. I know I'm in love with love. I know I am dazzled by possibilities. I know I turn toward fantasy instead of reality. Do I KNOW this? Maybe not yet, not the way I have to KNOW it to stop spinning pretty dreams and live in the world and of it. I suppose I'll see if this particular lesson is at last sinking in.

Sometimes though, what you need to know doesn't tell you how to get to a place beyond it. I can KNOW I tend toward the Seven of Cups, but how do I move beyond it? That's when you ask the clarifying question. It's funny how I try so hard to get that one question right, and when it comes to this second one, it's simply "how?"

Temperance was my clarifying card. In the Rider-Waite deck, Temperance is an angel with a foot in water and earth, conscious and unconscious. It is a card of balance, finding it, maintaining it, healing, flourishing. In the Jane Austen Tarot, Temperance is depicted by Emma Woodhouse and Jane Fairfax. These two women know each other, but come from two different worlds. Both are beautiful, both accomplished. Each though dwell in extremes of a sort, Emma a foolish embracing of status, of "assumptions," dwelling on the surface as opposed to truly knowing, Jane, accomplished but without status, living secrets, trusting someone who might not be trustworthy with her most precious gift, her heart. Each woman would be better, balanced, by some incorporating of the other. An all or nothing mentality benefits no one. Ahhhhhhh. Balance. The Libran quest, that ephemeral equinox moment we try to extend, maintain, recover.

"When the Temperance card appears in a reading it is time to note where we need to be more expressive and open like Emma -- or in areas in which, like Jane, it would behoove us to be more languid and discreet. The angel that appears on this (and most) Temperance cards reminds us that we humans can invoke the heavenly realms by virtuous actions. Tempering our selves with concerted effort and a devotion to inner and outer balance brings us one step closer to that angelic being." p. 41.

What Would Jane Do?

"Candor and discretion must go hand in hand ... an even keel will get us through even the most querulous waters."


Wednesday, December 16, 2009

December 16, 2009 - Knight of Quills (Swords)


The Major Arcana in the Tarot mark profound, archetypal moments in life. We circle through them as we move from birth to death, spiral around them, slip backwards and forwards. When they show up in a reading, usually major events are afoot, the kind of things that transform you. The Minor Arcana, the suits of cups, wands, swords and pentacles, may echo the themes of the Majors, but in a daily way, the small losses, the small joys, the myriad changes, the ends and beginnings that mark our days. The Court cards though, have always proved more difficult for me to interpret. Am I this card? Should I be? Does it represent someone coming into my life? someone I already know? Is it an energy I should embrace or one I should beware of?

Today I picked the Knight of Quills (in the Jane Austen Tarot, swords in the Rider-Waite deck). In the Jane Austen Tarot, the Knight of Quills is depicted by Frank Churchill, a rich and handsome young man in Emma. Austen writes in Pride and Prejudice, "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife." Frank is a young, single man of good fortune and so, in Jane's world, his marital prospects become of primary importance to the women of Highbury. Frank is not single, though he pretends to be. He is secretly engaged to Jane Fairfax, a beautiful young woman of limited fortune. In the novel, he delights in teasing Jane, in pretending interest in other women. He is calculating and deceitful, not malicious as much as self-serving.

Air of Air is the astrological attribution of the Knight of Quills (Swords). He possesses speed, wit, intelligence, and a decided self-interest unleavened by emotional vulnerability. Which doesn't mean he doesn't love, only that he is deliberate and calculating, even in love. This isn't me, but I do know this Knight, loved this Knight, and found myself as devastated as Emma might have been had she fallen for Frank Churchill's charms.

So what does the Knight have to teach me? What has he come to say? "Take action. Move quickly and surely, with all your wits about you." Hmmmm. At a still point in my life, at the eye of the storm of the last few years, I can't seem to hear that still quiet voice inside, I don't know what to do. I live each day, stay within the outlines of a life already drawn. I'm not really acting. Not really. The questions of what now? what next? still hover round, my constant companions. Take action? And do what? Isn't that the $64.00 question.

What Would Jane Do?
"High spirits and youth are as natural a match as romance and ladies of a certain age. Yet heedless, undirected spirits can precipitate heartache as much as overly romantic recklessness can ruin an entire family. Cleverness untempered with kindness is memorable only for the pain it causes in others. When intelligence is subservient to compassion and wisdom, the journey may be less diverting, but it will also prove to be more harmonious."

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

December 15, 2009 - Seven of Teacups (cups)

What do I need to know today to move me along my true path and to foster the health and happiness of my heart?

The Seven of Cups is a card of options. It can also be a card of wishful thinking, and perhaps over indulgence. So which is it? Do I have options? Yes. More I suspect than I think I do. Wishful thinking? God, yes. I future possibilities with a fervor and skill, devote such energy to what could be, that if put that energy into my "real" life, it would surpass even my hopes and dreams, my wild imaginings. Over-indulgence? Sure. That doesn't always mean drugs, alcohol, food, sex. No I over-indulge in grief, in emotions, in love, in hope.

In the Jane Austen Tarot, the Seven of Teacups depicts a young woman sipping a cup of tea, lost in dreamy reverie of love. The young woman is Harriet Martin, one of the characters in Emma, and a young woman in love with love. She falls deeply, when she falls in love, and with little discernment regarding the object of her affections. She refuses the honest affections of a worthy man, Robert Martin, because Emma puffs her up, makes her think she is worthy of more, a higher social standing, as if that can more than make up for true affection, or that they go hand in hand. In the span of the novel, Harriet Martin falls in love with Robert Martin, Mr. Elton, Mr. Knightly, and finally Robert Martin again, whose steady affection finally wins her heart.

What lessons then is Harriet here to teach? Oh, I think I know. Harriet's imagination runs wholly to the subject of love. I may be middle aged but love does preoccupy me. Discernment and discrimination are vital in all of the things that most move our heart, and yet these are often the very things we let run away with us. I've got a pretty decent mind but do I use it in the things I'm passionate about. No. Harriet builds great loves out of castles in the air and doesn't see true love when it stands plainly and honestly in front of her. I've done that, do that, discount the true steady love I have because it doesn't look a particular way, feel a particular way, act a particular way. I am a dreamy romantic under the seeming pragmatism of a sixth house sun, and as Jane Austen so deftly points out, I need protection from reality, but mostly from myself.

The astrological assignment of the Seven of Teacups is Venus in Scorpio. The goddess of love (Venus) in that emotional sign can tend to be focused on beautiful and watery fantasies as opposed to terra firma. And if you're going to build castles, it might be better to avoid uncertain seas and choose instead solid ground.

So What Would Jane Do?
"Our imagination is a pet creature of out constitution. It reflects its master -- or its servant -- well.... A good imagination is a fine quality -- in a mind that is equipped to use it well." (p. 88)

Monday, December 14, 2009

December 14, 2009 - Eight of Coins


So what do I need to know today for my heart's health and happiness? Still refining the question, as you can see. I feel a bit like Aladdin given a set number of wishes and trying to cover every base within the magical parameters. Not sure where we get the idea that magic is limited, that we only get so much luck, love, happiness. Maybe from fairy tales themselves.

The Eight of Pentacles is a card of success brought by hard work, painstaking work, increasing knowledge and expertise, and paying careful attention to detail. It's a craftsman's card, signifying a time of hard but beloved work nearly done.

Since I wasn't specific about the realm, I have to wonder where in life am I a craftsman and where do I dedicate myself -- family, speech pathology, writing, love? I suppose it could be all of them although I can't imagine a more exhausting thought then trying to be an "expert" in all of them. I'm of the ebb and flow, the turn of the wheel, to everything there is a season school. So what season is this for me?

In the Jane Austen Tarot, this card is associated with Anne Elliot, the heroine of Persuasion, an older but wiser unmarried woman of 27 (gasp! but I understand the time in which Jane was writing and that a woman of this age could, like Charlotte Lucas, fear ever making a match, let alone one based on love). Anne is the most capable member of her family. She is the master of many skills, including running a household, managing children, budgeting, compassion, clear-thinking in times of emergency, and passionate, despite her age and dwindling prospects. While I would love to think myself lovely and lively Elizabeth Bennett, I have always felt myself more closely aligned with Anne Elliot, which is perhaps why I reread Persuasion again and again, to catch the face of hope.

The astrological assignment for this card is Sun in Virgo, supporting a precise yet grounded approach to life. Virgo is ruled by Mercury, suggesting this sign, at it's best, is both practical and intelligent. With a sixth house sun (the sixth house being the natural house of Virgo) then, it isn't at all surprising this practicality is an essential part of my being, though it is colored by the lens of Libra.

So what does it mean, this Eight of Coins? Have I achieved a level of mastery in a particular field or, like Anne, in many fields? Am I just the unseen hand behind many projects and possibilities, helping them toward success without any recognition? Perhaps, as the Jane Austen Tarot suggests, I've gone as far as I can in one realm and it is time to move on to greener pastures, to bigger and better things. I am a person who always thinks of herself as an apprentice in every realm, becoming and becoming but never quite "being." I've finally decided I can call myself a writer, but just a novice. I am a good speech pathologist, but certainly not gifted. I consider myself a "good enough" mother, but not great. You get the picture. Because this card is the suit of coins, it speaks to creating tangible things like art, music, crafts, writing. So I'd like to think it speaks to a new period in my writing, a certain level of craftsmanship achieved, greater success in my endeavors. I think this would be vital to my heart's happiness, and therefore, to my health as well.

What would Jane Do?
"We all know industrious souls who achieve much, but have not the discernment to achieve well.... Alternately, there are those whose ideas are brilliant, but come to naught. Potential without application is pure vapour. When Labor and intellect align, however, the results seem divinely inspired."