March 7, 2010 - The Nine of Cups

I wouldn't say I love the Nine of Cups. There's a bit of guilt that comes when I get it. I think it's the smug look on the man's face, his cups all lined in a row, "his" cups. It seems a selfish card and good little girls aren't selfish, at least that was what I was told again and again as a child. It's funny how the lessons of childhood last and last. We hardly know we carry them still until something triggers the behavior and we are 7 again, trying to please.

The question today was the one I usually ask: What is the one thing I need to know today for the health and happiness of my heart in the coming year?

The Nine of Cups is sometimes called the "wish card." It says your wish will come true. I shiver at this, the kind of frisson that comes when you are deliciously frightened, when threat and desire are just at the edge of pleasure and the slightest tip, could rush to pain. Like everyone, I have my deep, dark wishes, the ones I won't admit to, won't even utter. For all my good behavior as a child, I was a wild thing. I ruled myself with an iron hand, afraid lest my emotions overwhelm me, lest I hurt others as I was often hurt. My wish coming true will hurt another, I'm sure. My wish coming true means I am putting my desires before another's. It goes against the years of my childhood. I was not supposed to want and yet I do.

The Nine of Cups is also a card of feeling satisfied, that all's right with the world. This is another stretch for me. I've blogged about this before, my Grandmother's legacy of keeping a lid on smugness and pleasure so the gods won't be jealous. I look at the man in the card and am certain the gods will find some way to humble him. Hubris is always punished, at least if you're a devotee of Greek myths or spent any time with my Grandmother Katherine. Apparently you can take the girl out of Greece but apparently not Greece out of the girl.

Finally, the Nine of Cups is a card of enjoying sensual pleasures. It asks you to be fully present in this material world and to enjoy the glories of it. This too gives me pause. Since my bypass surgery I have not re-entered this world fully. I feel more spirit than body, as if time is borrowed, not really mine. I experience the beauty of the world with an intensity that comes, I think, from feeling no longer quite of it. I think the Nine of Cups is calling me back from the edge, to be not just in the world, but of it. I hope I can do it. I hope I can be brave enough.

In the Jane Austen Tarot, the Nine of Teacups depicts a dinner of friends and family at the Weston household. Mr. Weston oversees the happy table. The card speaks of an "open," welcoming, and happy heart. The bypass surgery literally opened my heart. Now it is time to figuratively open it, to be brave, to be myself. Alaska was a step in that direction. And as Machado said, the path is made by walking. There are no road maps to healing. We each of us find our own way from "cure" to healed, writing and rewriting our story of illness and recovery, perhaps in process revising our life story. The Nine of Teacups doesn't assure happiness, just your right to it. It's up to us to take the necessary actions to achieve Mr. Weston's state of contentment.

March 6, 2010 - Strength

I spent the morning researching Alaskan poets which led me to a couple of writer's conferences held yearly in Alaska (and an MFA program at the University of Alaska at Anchorage which I will admit I'm flirting with). So my question today revolved around my writing: "What do I need to know today to help me become the best writer I can be?"

The Strength card is lovely and I am coming to understand that for this Libra, it a key to balance. A maiden walks with a lion, human and animal in perfect harmony, peaceful within and without. There is that passion in me few guess at unless you know my art perhaps. My ordinary exterior has always hidden wild forces within. My mother rhapsodizes at what a wonderful child I was, how good, nearly perfect. She had no idea at the Cat 5 winds that blow within me, that were a part of me, even then. It has taken me years to try to find some balance and still some days I am wild lion, untameable, ferocious, deadly.

This is what Joan Bunning says about the strength card (italics are mine): "Usually we think of strength in physical terms - big arms, powerful legs - but there is also inner strength. Inner strength comes from an exercise of the heart muscle. It is perseverance, courage, resolve and composure - qualities that help us endure when times are tough. In the past, a person with inner strength was commonly said to have character; he or she could be counted on in the darkest moments. Card 8 represents this energy of quiet determination. Strength is not a flashy card, but one that is solid and reliable."

When the Strength card shows up in a reading you know you can endure, you are a rock, your heart strong and true despite setbacks. The life of a writer is full of setbacks, no thank yous and the more direct and hurtful "don't bother to send anything else." It requires a strong heart, a certain fearlessness, and the ability to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and keep on slogging. Sometimes people comment on your work, warm, wonderful words that tell you you're on the right path, that your words speak. Sometimes even your best friends say nothing, letting all your doubts fester in that eloquent silence.

The strength card asks you to be patient, accepting, to deal calmly with frustrations. You move on because that is what you do, and you keep writing because you are a writer and this too is what you do. The Strength card also asks you to be patient, with others but also with yourself. It is a craft and not every product will be a masterpiece. Sometimes we are clumsy with words that are supposedly our gifts. Sometimes we know what we want but fall far short. We can beat ourselves up or demonstrate grace, even with ourselves, especially with ourselves.

The Strength card is about soft control. It isn't the iron hand in the velvet glove but rather the trained light touch of the charioteer (the card that comes before strength) who understands the subtle demands of guidance. For me that means not forcing a story to take a particular form but rather to collaborate with it, let it tell itself through me. The Strength card is about demonstrating the strength of love. As a writer you have to love your work and more importantly love yourself, a much harder task given our tendency to go to the dark place, the blame place, the "I'm no good" place when things go wrong.

Seems pretty sage advice, actually. Definitely a good reminder as I continue working on The Snow Queen, honoring new ideas that come to me as I write, but letting them wait for a bit as I keep my attention focused on the newest of my brood, my first Alaska tale but not my last I think.

March 5, 2010 - The Four of Wands

Sometimes I am an optimistic pessimist. Sometimes I'm a pessimistic optimist. I keep one ear cocked always for the other shoe to drop. When I was little, my Greek grandmother would always caution too much joy lest the fates grow angry. She'd find not the worst case, but just enough wrong that the powers that be would leave her loved ones alone. At fifty-one, I find myself more like my grandmother than I know. I never celebrate completely. I may not consciously worry about tempting fate but surely there must be some of that in my tepid responses. Perhaps four years of flying high, too close to the sun, along with the requisite fall from grace at such daring, has cured me of peaks and vales. I may look a the sky, my dream of the sun, but I keep my flight at more moderate levels. No use risking melted wax and the deathly plunge into the ocean. I've fallen from great heights and survived, barely. I'm not sure I can be brave enough to do that again.

I wonder if the Four of Wands knows this and is trying to get me to celebrate a bit the good things of life, the gifts I've been given. It definitely heralds a celebration, usually the formal kind. It asks you to recognize success, reflect on your accomplishments, and enjoy some well-deserved rewards. Life always has its ups and downs but it has been, for the most part, pretty wonderful this last year since my bypass. If it's indicative in any way of the next half of my life, then things on the whole are going to be good. So maybe it wouldn't be so wrong to celebrate a bit. Surely the Fates are as angry at those who ignore or forget to honor their gifts as they are those who forget to honor the Fates.

Of course another aspect of the card is freedom. It urges you to get our of oppressive situations, break free of bonds, open to new possibilities, let go of limitations. Since my bypass, but even before I've had a hard time thinking beyond the edges of the life I've been living. I feel its narrowness and find little comfort in that anymore. I want to overflow my edges, move beyond my traditional boundaries. I don't want to be that tiny local creek with its safe trickle of water. I want to be a river and I want a river's rights to flood, to dry, to flow, to make my own way to the sea.

Before the levees here tamed the Delta for agriculture, the span between Sacramento and San Francisco was a great meandering inland sea. I want that freedom to spread when I need to, narrow when that too is right. We think of rivers as dependable, set. We need them to be that. But water has a mind of its own, as do I, and it will find its way to the sea. It strikes me that maybe in my second half, this two is my goal to find my own wild way to the sea.

Not sure what the Four of Wands has in mind but I'll keep you posted.

March 4, 2010 - The Devil

When The Devil shows up in my readings my first reaction is always, "oh shit." He's trouble, but not because he leadeth me into temptation. No, the thing about The Devil is he stands by and calmly watches us rush towards all the things that lessen us. He doesn't have to do much tempting. We're pretty good at reaching out for all that's bad for us with both hands.

The Devil card tells me it's time to look at myself clearly. My shoulds are most likely self-serving. My wants and "needs," probably self-serving too. The thing is we know the right thing. It's just the wrong thing seems a helluva lot more attractive.

When The Devil comes round, you're experiencing bondage in some way. Maybe you've accepted an unwanted situation. Maybe you're obsessed. Maybe your addicted and enslaved. You're definitely focusing on the material world, maybe overindulging the senses, getting and spending, forgetting the spiritual. You're ignorant, but by choice. You don't want to know and you choose this Devil you do know as opposed to the Devils you don't. Mostly you feel hopeless. You doubt. You see the worst and expect it. Been there, done all of that and more. Still doing some of it. They say with age comes wisdom. Maybe. I'm still waiting.

In the Jane Austen Tarot, The Devil is depicted by Lady Susan. This is one novel of Jane's I haven't read. I tried. I just never could get into it. Given the name of the main character, maybe I should. She presents a beautiful face to the world, but she's self-serving and cruel in the worst ways. She uses people for her own benefit. And while it could be argued we all do that, more often than not, Lady Susan does it willfully, carefully, and without thought of anyone but herself. Love is a game; children too. The world exists for her benefit only and people are not hearts and souls but commodities.

So here are the questions the Devil asks? Are you manipulating others to your will? Are you overly proud? overly sure? Do you believe you're entitled to do what you want, no matter who it hurts? (and we're not talking big things as much as little, the small, countless ways we assume it doesn't matter do let's just fudge it for our benefit.) Do you judge others harshly for the same behavior you have practiced? And are there dark secrets you've kept hidden, refused to reveal, won't even think about but pretend they never happened?

When the Devil shows up and whispers in your ear, you can pretend you don't hear him or you can look in the mirror and take stock, real stock. Who do you want to be and are you being true to that vision? He reminds us of our human frailties but also of the bit of divinity, our souls, that can help us rise above our worst inclinations.

March 3, 2010 - The Four of Wands

On a gray, rainy day in the midst of extensive lay offs, this card arrives like a ray of sunshine. Apparently the Four of Wands is pointing me toward my path to happiness.

The four of Wands is a card of celebration, rejoicing over a happy event, recognizing success and reflecting on accomplishments. It's a card of seeking freedom, getting out of oppressive situations, breaking free of bonds, and letting go of limitations. And it's also a card of feeling excited, relishing the moment, feeling jubilant and surprised. Remember the excitement of the best of birthday parties, the cake coming in alight with candles, your loved ones and friends all around you? Remember that first slow dance with the love of your life, the deep, thrumming thrill of it? That's this card. In a reading, the Four of Wands often refers to a celebratory event or event, the kind that generates excitement. It can also be a card of freedom, of breaking loose, claiming the broad vistas that are yours.

In the Jane Austen Tarot, the Four of Candlesticks depicts the marriages of Jane Bennett and Charles Bingley and Elizabeth Bennett and Fitzwilliam Darcy. It speaks of a celebration, but a lasting one. If you're asking about a relationship (I wasn't), then it might indicate a new, more stable phase of it, increased seriousness. Those four wands speak of stability, a completion and new beginning. It's a lovely card although I'm not really sure what it means for me. Is it time to reach for freedom? Is a celebration coming? Are relationships deepening to something more stable? What is my more perfect union? I guess we'll see.

March 2, 2010 - The Two of Swords

The Two of Swords is a card of barriers. You are afraid to let things in or out. Maybe you've been hurt. Probably you've been hurt, maybe badly even. So you close yourself off, let little in, let little out. This kind of reserve is certainly understandable. You trust less, give less, afraid one hurt will be followed by another and another.

The Two of Swords says you are blocking your emotions. Maybe you're denying your true feelings -- anger, sorrow, love -- holding others at arm's length. Maybe you're avoiding the truth, afraid to look at the facts, choosing not to know. It could be you're afraid to act, feeling stuck, unable to decide. I've been all of these things the last few years. I stay in a state between, enduring. I was raised to endurance, to wait things out. It got me through a lot of hard times but it keeps me from risking, from choosing, from reaching for what I want. Like any blessing, it can also be a curse. It seems like I have spent my whole life waiting for the right time, the right place, the right person.

In the Jane Austen Tarot, the Two of Quills is depicted by Jane Fairfax of Emma. On one side of her is Mrs. Elton. This officious woman has found Jane a situation as a governess and is encouraging her to take it. Jane's diminished circumstances mean she has to find employment. She is secretly engaged though and is waiting for that young man to make his move. On the other side of Jane is the young man who has promised himself to her. His aunt would approve this penniless match and the young man is dependent on his aunt for his fortune. He wants Jane to be patient but time is running out and Jane can't keep sitting on the fence. She has to make a move.

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

May it be so.

March 1, 2010 - The King of Cups

For those of us who work in the public sector, these are tough times. Pink slips are going out and I may be getting one. So I guess I shouldn't be surprised when the King of Cups comes up as answer to my question: "What do I need to know today for the health and happiness of my heart?"

The King of Cups is a caring man. He represents all the positive aspects of the suit of cups and embodies them in the world. He's wise and sees right to the heart of the matter. He's calm, diplomatic and caring. He is also tolerant, patient in trying circumstances. Sounds a bit saint-like to me but my poor heart would do with a bit of channeling of this gentleman. Joan Bunning writes of him: "He is wise and understanding, with a deep knowledge of the world that comes from the heart. He is a teacher and way-shower who guides his students with loving attention. He cares about others sincerely and always responds to their needs with compassion. He heals with a gentle touch and a quiet word. He is calm and relaxed in all situations, seeming to know intuitively what is called for at any moment. Others turn to him for advice because they know he will listen attentively. There is always a peacefulness around him that others respond to. He is tolerant of all points of view and shows patience in the most trying circumstances. He gives others freedom to grow and develop in their own ways without asking anything in return."

In the Jane Austen Tarot, the Lord of Teacups is depicted by Charles Bingley of Pride and Prejudice. Charles Bingley is a rich man who rents Netherfield Hall and becomes the focus of all the women in town with marriageable daughters. Yet, despite being the eligible bachelor in Hertfordshire, Charles Bingley is humble and unassuming. He falls in love with the eldest Bennett daughter, Jane, who is equally humble and unassuming (not to mention beautiful). It seems like the perfect match and it is, but nothing in Austen, like life, is easy. The Lord of Teacups urges you to be loving and compassionate - and to trust your, heart as opposed to the advice of others.