I continue my “Wear the Tarot” project — though I took a day or two off to deal with a recurring family crisis.  Just thinking about it for a day or two made me realize that for anyone who isn’t fond of tarot cards, thinking them as stupid as Ouija boards and all about divination likely thinks I am crazy.

This dumb credulous broad is making her decisions based on what fucking card she pulls out of a deck of 78 pictures?

Well, no.  I’m not.  This not-very-credulous and incredibly mistrusting “broad” is making decisions in a time of great stress and emotional misery by trusting very meaningful personalized images to trigger a brain/mind switch in her unconscious mind so she can access some clarity.  See, that is a very different thing altogether?

The day after my Monday “day off” went to hell in a ptsd hand basket not of my own making, I decided saving the Major Arcana cards apart from the daily draw cards was a major mistake.  I mixed them in and shuffled and pulled up #16 – The Tower.  This piece is new – a pretty little “hammer of Thor” gifted to me only this past Yule.

I’m not Asatruar.  I’m a humanist pagan.  Thor is, however, my favorite Aesir deity because mythology says he loved human kind the most.  I love humanity, too.  So his symbol does not offend me, nor totally define me — it is an emblem of caring even in the face of destruction.  This card in most tarot decks displays a lightening struck tower complete with people falling, a bit like 9-11 in NYC when our towers were struck.  This card almost always scares hell out of people getting a reading.

It is often read as punishment – especially for pride.  That never seemed quite right to me.  I was happy several years ago to read a book by one Paul Huson, Mystical Origins of the Tarot, that posited the idea that if the major cards were actually representative of aspects of medieval mystery plays (religious education for an illiterate population), this card represented Christ, after his death “harrowing” hell and setting free the inhabitants of Limbo.  Now, I’m not Christian – so this idea as it was didn’t warm me much.  But the other aspect of this book is giving very old interpretations of the cards.  It illuminated how card meanings and symbology evolves.

I had kept track of this card over the years, as I did personal meditations and readings for a look inside my own head.  It didn’t play out as a prognostication of punishment — but one of vast change, of turnovers and rebuildings needed.  So other books have read it, more and more often.  So seeing this card, with the symbol of love of humanity and titled “Lord of the Hosts of the Mighty” gave me a boost rather than a kick in the pants.  It made me feel not destroyed, but reminded of change and continuance.  It stiffened my weary aching spine.

Wednesday’s draw was a necklace of my own making, salvaging bits of cheap broken jewelry saved over the years.  The Chariot, Lord of the Triumph of Light was once called “Hekate’s Key” in my personal lexicon of wearable uplifts.  It was always my reminder to look, to strive, to search for solutions.

Assigned to Major Arcanum #7 it takes on new impetus.  It is the card of controlling the “driving” of your own life.  You know those dreams where you are in a car, trying to drive from the back seat?  That is more or less what this card is about!  Are you in control, how do you take control; are you driving the right course?

The Chariot is mythologically linked to Apollo, it is said — he who drives the Sun around the world.  I never warmed to that particular bit of prettiness in story telling.  When I think of a charioteer?  I think of The Mahabharata and the battle where Arjuna must go to war against the set of a hundred cousins he grew up along side of and also risk his own near and dear actual brothers.  His war chariot awaited him and his charioteer was Krishna.

Krishna counseled the grief-paralyzed archer and the necessary battle went on as the story required.  This story does warm me, it reminds me that love can enable or cripple and that sometimes you must be willing to do a lesser harm to avert a greater harm.  Sometimes love means standing back and watching the Beloved fight their own battles, as painful as that is.  Sometimes it requires a lover to harden a heart to strengthen someone else.  So the Chariot can tell a reader that it is time to drive your own life without regard for the ones standing on the sidelines not claiming their own responsibility and power.  Time to snap the whip and drive on!

(Note on the Wear the Tarot Project: obviously, this continued thread is boring the crap out of readers.  So show the stats.  So while I will continue my very fruitful project, I will not post it all publicly.  For my own satisfaction, my three posts weekly will continue – but not be public posts.  I will select only one favorite each week to make public – likely on the old Tuesday Tarot day.  This will be the last Thursday post.)



Bored Sunday Tarot

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Yes, I confess, I falter in my Wear the Tarot project. I am bored with it to a degree; not that I don’t enjoy wearing long collected or created jewelry, but I feel the personal significance to me isn’t really helpful to anyone else!  As for me?  Well, the experiment definitely is bearing fruit.  I find the enforced dwelling and drilling into memory is exorcising some painful things and illuminating better mental and emotional pathways.  But these posts feel increasingly like a book club of one — since nobody else is involved to share conversation, it seems a bit staler with every post!

So, this week, I will be evaluating the worth of continuing or not.  Obviously, I’ve been selecting my daily draw cards from the Minor Arcana cards alone — saving the Majors for the last bits.  Yesterday’s card was a small favorite piece, a gift from a one-time houseguest.

She was a talented artist married to a real jerk.  She was beautiful and warm-hearted, but in poor health and being dominated and bamboozled by the man living off her hard-earned wages.  She gave me the tiny bee pendant and I gave her a beautiful porcelain pendant in return.  I later made a strand of tiny glass beads on which to wear her gift to me.

I made it the Ace of Wands because she had plenty of “fire” — creation was her joy and bliss, but she wasn’t getting beyond the beginner stage due to being chained to a petty, mean, smelly, obnoxious drunk who controlled her life and burned out all her friends one by one.  Her husband’s aggression distinguished her life.  Talking to me, she often mentioned friends she had and then wept, I was utterly confused by this happening until her husband burned the bridges between us as well.  So a bee can sting or just make honey?   This necklace/card reminds me to choose my fire carefully.

It made me think of the friends I lost over time, sticking with my PTSD impacted mate.  Bonnie’s husband didn’t have PTSD, he was simply a mean domineering asshole.  Perhaps my mate appeared (quite incorrectly) in the same light to my one-time friends?  I miss Bonnie, I think of her often – not only when wearing this little necklace.

Today?  More amber bliss – the 8 of Wands, the Lord of Swiftness might seem ill-characterized by fossils of something snail-like?  But I’ve always worn this pair of earrings to remind myself to NOT be fossilized by inaction or emotional paralysis.  I do not want my life turned to stone by the inability to choose, to act, to decide!

They are a good choice for today, as the time change always makes me feel rebelliously likely to stay in bed (everyone else in the house IS asleep right now).  I’ve been drawing a lot of Wands of late – the “fire” suit of passion, creation, choice, and career.  What is my career?

Well, that is the source of another memory going all the way back to 9th grade.  Remember those odd little folded paper things with the fingers folding and unfolding answering questions like a home-made “magic 8-ball”?  One of my friends had one and told me, in 9th grade, that “in accord with your sun sign, you will be very domestic and your life will revolve around home and family.”  Now, in the 9th grade I didn’t use the word “fuck”, but I DID say, “To hell with THAT!”

I didn’t want to marry or have children.  I didn’t care what my home was as long as I had books and music of my own choosing.  I wanted an Army career and sexual partners of my own choosing and no bonds of “till death do you part.”

::::Sigh:::::  Well, I did marry.  It DID determine my life, as surely as Bonnie’s late marriage (after rearing her own children) to a vidiot bastard who cared more about their World of Warcraft shit being stolen than about losing insurance, driver’s licensing, and other things needed to actually make a living.  I chose to give up my dreamt of Army career to see to it our abusive parents never had even temporary custody of our children.  I worked damned near any job to make ends meet.  I chose to quit college shy of my degree as my GI Bill benefits timed out because my husband was changing from Army to civilian career and needed a lot of support to make it.  I became the “Headquarters Company” of our marriage.  I became very domestic and built a home around us, as worker bees create a hive.

My career became home building, where-ever we were and with little or nothing to work with at times.  I was often unhappy. I hated being “the mom”.  I am still the mom.  I live in a household of six adults and I am like the first sergeant.  I am no longer unhappy with it, if I am honest with myself.  Sure, I wanted to go change the world, like a Tracy Chapman song saying “Thought I’d make history, making babies was the best that I could do.”  But in the end?  I am very happy to have been able to create, and thus far hold onto a safe space for my grown sons.  I look back and see myself making clear, pragmatic choices all along the way.  I was never one for paralysis.  Did I sacrifice dreams?  Yes, but for good reasons – humane and human reasons.  In retrospect, time itself is the “Lord of Swiftness” and I’m glad I am not playing catch-up too badly at this phase of my life!



Taroting It All Up

Friday, ah Friday! The day of blood sacrifice pruning the rose hedge!  Finally got the scanned files in order – so here we go!

Wednesday’s draw card for the Wear the Tarot Project was the 8 of Swords — the last of those things made recycling a onetime rosary.  Thus it’s assignment as the “Lord of Shortened Force” — because yes, as usual with my usual contrary icon-holding, idol-keeping humanist pagan self; I am literally tearing apart a sort of icon to one religion (a patriarchal monotheist sort) to build something beautiful in service to a human related tradition.

Was my Wednesday an 8 of Swords day?  Did my drawing and wearing this card “make it so”?  Maybe the reverse version, yes – I had a mostly relaxed day doing laundry and not working on the several other asinine issues gnawing at my back pockets like a chilly grouchy alligator.  Turquoise always brightens my day.

But Thursday, it was the 10 of Wands – the Lord of Oppression.  Nothing like a beautiful chunk of citrine looking rather like crystalized piss to remind you to check IF your back is being pissed upon, eh?  Not typing this up yesterday gave me the entire day to think about how terribly oppressed I was feeling.  Yes, I do visualize the movie scene with the child crying “I’m being oppressed!”

Of course, oppression is relative, maybe? I’m in the odd position of being the person I never particularly wanted to be: a mother.  Always THE mother it sometimes feels.  Yes, all my children are grown adults; but I’m the one noting we go through 3 bottles of costly dish detergent a month because half of them wash dishes a squirt at a time in running water, which drives me MAD.  But they are DOING their own dishes, praise snarky kitchen signage!  So that is definitely not a real oppression.  Laundry detergent also disappears at a suspiciously high rate.  Oh, well…

I baked all day Thursday to go to a Moms Demand Action meeting in the evening.  Getting stupid gun laws OFF legislative registers and some good sense measures to keep crazy spouse abusers from getting murder weapons is high on the agenda.  Gee, imagine how the ammosexuals freak out.  That is why, in America where we allegedly have the freedom to speak and assemble, we keep the locations under wraps?!  So yes, THAT does feel oppressive to me.  That asking that guns be kept from killing students, wives, children is suddenly SO oppressive to mass killers that we Moms must be the ones to hide.  Wow.

So today?  As with all things bloodied-to-be, it is the suit of Swords. This card promises a change of mind, a complete turnover.  The lovely piece was designed by my young friend Tommie at the Ajmer Trading Company. I hung it on a strand of peridot, which always makes me merry.

I will prune bitey rose canes today in the late winter sunshine, and wish change into the air like a Scorpions song!   Ah…for that past optimism!


Tarot Tomorrow

Yes, yes, it is supposed to be today.  But the scanned file is missing and I have about 8 dozen cinnamon rolls to bake, exercise to do and other oh-so-not-by-the-deck things.

Well, the 10 of wands “Lord of Oppression” was the draw card today — so in my little first world bitchies, I AM feeling a bit oppressed.

Tuesday Tarot

Some days, it doesn’t feel worth the effort of chewing thru the invisible leather straps, you know?   Today, after a restless night of worry over events in the life of one of my sons, events he will not even discuss with us feels like that kind of day.

So with very little comment — the wear cards of yesterday and today.

Mondays’ card was the Knight of Wands – Lord of the Flame and Lightning.  This piece of jewelry has evolved over time.  It is hanging on a string of polished citrine – a favorite mineral of mine, it feels like sunlight condensed down into stone.

The pendant came to me as an anniversary gift a few years ago.  It is multi-colored and bright, eh?  It is paint off a car assembly line.  It is commonly called “Fordite” in a semi-sarcastic vein; but I call my Corvettine, because it came from a Chevy line where Corvette’s were painted.  It was very ugly in a cumbersome silver wire wrap when I got it.  Thank goodness I met a young woman eager to make a few bucks doing something more elegant!

Today’s draw isn’t resonating with me yet.  I don’t think I will hold my breath either.  The nine of Pentacles/Coins is a card of mastery and achievement on the physical level.  And yes, in many ways I AM there.  Mostly in a personal sense — I have a nigh Stoic grade of mastery and control over myself, for instance. Also a Stoic grade admission of exactly how little I am ACTUALLY in control of in my physical existence.

This jumbled mess is of my own making; I recycle jewelry – it is almost never gotten rid of even when busted to bits.  So odd bits are in it, holding dozens of memories of people and places; connections and breakages in my life.  And yes, dark against the background?  The symbolic bits of leather it might not be worth chewing through on certain days!   Material gains?  Yes, at times.  But also losses that might have been much more than mere material.

The sun is shining.  The moles are digging out of the warming ground.  Spring is coming.  I will endure and do my duty.  So should we all?

Sunday Coin in the Cups

I continue to draw a card from a deck picturing my jewelry.  Or, I should admit, with frustration – two decks.  Because the first deck had some problems.  Then the second deck had a single issue.  One card from original printing was kept (the Major Arcanum #17 the Star) but the other cards were all new.  Then my lazy self was faced with re-scanning ALL the deck.  Nope.  So some cards will say “Ten of Cups” and others will say “6 of Wands” for instance — printing deck One had words; I didn’t notice the Minotaur had did that and when the second deck was laid out for printing he used numbers.

I can’t even be bothered to care.

So Friday’s Wear the Tarot card was the King of Cups.  There it is, fresh water pearls and a monolithic chunk of deep blue lapis.  Pearls for water, why not?  And lapis as blue as a night sky because  the King embodies “the air of water”.

But seeing it on Friday, I thought of my Minotaur husband of 41 years.  He wants to be the King of Cups/Hearts — king of my heart.  That is a tough order after 41 years of marriage mediated by PTSD on both sides.  Mine is older, if barely, but better managed because I figured out a long time ago how fucked up I was by my abusive and gun-threatened childhood.

The last triggers?  Shootings of children puts me into insomnia, hyper-vigilance and hyper-bitch mode every time.  So if that corresponds with something that triggers the Minotaur?  Whooo-doggie, bar the door and hide the breakables.  I made that King of Cups necklace, surely I can help re-make my own King of Cups?

We co-triggered on Sunday/Monday, just as I was coming out of the worst of the craziness after the Parkland shooting.  It was not pretty.  That king is surfing waves made of tears in his chariot, I tell you!   I sent him away on our “anniversary” getaway all by his lonesome and slept, sulked, wept my way halfway sane again.

He came home Thursday afternoon, I fed him steak.  We talked.  We coped.  It all sucks, we are definitely too old for this shit.  So Saturday’s card was much more friendly for me.  The 3 of Cups, Lady of Abundance.  The pretty silver hearts, locks and keys and sparkles speaks of happier accord – having gotten a start on soothing roiled waters!  It was a bit more Friedrich Nietzsche than one might expect for emotive cups, I will admit.  I had to get a wee bit “will to power” mad to get through it.

Told myself, I’ve been working the issues since my mid-twenties; the Minotaur only really began circling the issue in about 2012.  And he wasn’t hitting the hard spots, they were too painful.  Well, he is hitting those hard spots now.  I’ve told him I will be nice, but not too nice.  Being too nice lets him slide off his own hook.  That isn’t good for either of us.  I did tarot readings for both of us on Saturday — and we had a remarkable number of the same cards, even a couple in the same positions in the layout.

We should be old hands at this, so why is it still so exquisitely painful?

Because down in the mud, blood, sweat, and broken crockery?  Life still sucks from time to time.  Pretty much what today’s draw card said about it, too.  The seven of Pentacles (or Coins) can tell you all your best efforts are sometimes inadequate.

I made this sadly out of focus looking piece with pyrite “fool’s gold” beads and chunks of amber.  The big dark bead that made the rest out of focus is a chunk of cobalt glass.  I picked it, along with the pyrite to symbolize the folly of mankind.  Some cobalt in the world is a radioactive isotope — not all of it however, since I’d likely feel quite uneasy with that 1 1/2 inch bead in the hollow of my throat if it was radioactive, right?

When I’m not drawing for a post?  I wear this piece when I want to remind myself NOT to be a fool, NOT to choose poorly.  Because being a fool IS how your success becomes unfulfilled!

I’m finding my project fulfilling.  The cards provide me an image to dig into the subconscious or unconscious strings of my life and mind.  It makes me look at things I don’t want to see.  It makes me tell myself to stop being chickenshit scared and DO something when I feel frozen with fear.  Yep, still leaving Mr. Immanuel Kant in the cold and snuggling with Uncle Friedrich!  Go ME!

Thursday Tarot – Not Feeling It

I think I am catching a cold. I did something stupid-painful and my back is pissed off at me. So, I’m really not feeling my Wear the Tarot choices are hitting the nail-head. Readings seem scrambled, but is it them or is it me?

Wednesday’s card was not entirely off it’s symbolic rocker – the Queen of Swords.  This pretty lapis and turquoise necklace is one of my own making.  The lapis rounds were salvaged from an older piece and several bracelets.  The turquoise cubes and copper beads were new.

The Queen of Swords is often an unhappy card signifying an unhappy woman – and unhappy for good reason.  I am unhappy, I will give it that.  My Wednesday card throw with the question of what I needed to become more happy?  Very confusing answers, surely verifying my confused unhappy state but not providing me with any sort of road map out of my personalized “dark night.”  Wearing that gorgeous necklace gave me insight into this card that I’d never thought before:  maybe it is telling me I DO in fact think too much?

Thursday’s WTT choice is so dazzling I am having a hard time imagining wearing it to do bank statements and pay the bills.   The 6 of Wands, Lord of Victory kind of demanded a sparkly Roman Triumph sort of choice and thus, the elegant collar usually worn of the ever-so-rare festive evening out.  “Blood and Sun” I call it, with big fat tear-drops of (what I suspect is reconstituted) amber and flaming garnets.  The mountings on this are very cheap metal and shed little silvery flakes everywhere.  It was not expensive and was meant for the odd shiny effect.  In retrospect, it feels less victorious than trying to make a show of winning.

It isn’t so much that I am losing any material ground, more that I feel rather ground down myself just now.  My card reading yesterday did say to stop whining about being tired and overwhelmed because I brought it on my own damned self by biting off more than I could chew.  I guess I wouldn’t feel I had to do all the biting and chewing if more folks were stepping up to the board beside me.  Ah, yes, that?  The Queen of Swords is lonely, lonely, lonely – whether victorious or not.

Gendered Vs. Sexist – “Quibble” Is Such a Small Word for Blood-Boiling Irritation

I’ve been using my tarot card collection and my jewelry collection together for almost three weeks now to explore my own psyche.  Evocative images on beautiful cards, keyed to things I wear to make myself focus on probing questions has had some astonishing results.

But it sure doesn’t always evade chaos.  Things kind of unexpectedly went to hell in a hand basket here this week.  So getting a good “read” on your own possible part in that might be helpful, eh?

This week, I am working with the Laura Perry Minoan Tarot.  I really adore the artwork of these beautiful cards, the more so because I’ve been in a state of fangirl love for Minoan art and civilization since about the 6th grade!

I’ve been re-vamping my tarot card collection for a few years, while not working diligently on readings.  I couldn’t make myself use the cards with overt Christian symbology even knowing the cards came about during a Christian Era and likely partially to teach Christian precepts to an illiterate population.  I was just that done with monotheistic religion.  So a Minoan deck, based on images pre-Christian in origin made me very excited indeed.

The deck has two extra face cards per Minor Arcana suit: in addition to the usual ones, Perry added “Priests” and “Priestesses.  “Fine,” I reluctantly thought, “religion has been, is, and likely will be a civilizational staple for some time.”  And of course, the face cards are male and female.  People, after all, are male and female.  I can handle priestesses in dresses and priests in, well, NOT dresses.  What I cannot handle?  Is the meaning assigned to gendered card images in the book I had to get along with the cards. (I prefer to get ONLY card decks as I usually find the authored books annoying in several ways.). This is where I doubtless will be accused of “quibbling”.  That is a small word for things that made me growl, “Oh, die in a FIRE!”

Perry likes assigning two word sentences to each card, a kind of shorthand for the “step” it represents on the so-called “journey.”  It isn’t an entirely bad memory aid idea.  Until she takes merely gendered to the sexist infinity-and-beyond point, that is.  Examples:

“Youth” cards (male = knight) – “I explore.”

“Maid” cards (female = page) – “I consider.”

“Lord” cards (male = king) – ” I react.”

“Lady” cards (female = queen) – “I emote.”  (Seriously, you fucking “emote” — that is the sum of female ruler’s power?!)

“Priest” card – “I lead.” (Great, how cultishly special for you.)

“Priestess” card – “I embody.” (This is further explained as meaning to “help lead” – as the priest clearly is in charge.)

How nice for all the court ladies to sit back passively eating bon bons, while the male courtiers do all the active ass kicking, eh?  These cards are supposed to be pre-Christian (or even post-Christian?), not precisely pre-20th century, ok?  Besides, Minoan Crete – from surviving art alone, is generally considered to have been very egalitarian.  The women don’t look like bon-bon chompers who are passive.

It is worse still in the Major Arcanum, which has some very nice substitutes for patriarchal Christian cards in traditional decks.  So the words explaining it back into paternalism made me twice as sick:

The Empress – representing female political power is explained into a castle-bound Betty Crocker.  She is to “nurture” and “I connect.” is her phrase.

The High Priestess?  Oh, she is to keep silent and hear her “inner voice”  and wait for things to just happen in response to her listening; I quote “This is a card of being and knowing, not doing.  If you accept what your inner voice tells you, your outer world will come into accord without overt action on your part.”

Wow.  So Minoan Crete allegedly ran like Saint Paul’s dream world – “Cover your head woman (but possibly not your tits) and shut up and don’t dare preach to men.”  Obviously, I won’t be using the suggestions of Linda Perry’s book in spite of appreciating the artwork of the cards themselves.  This kind of nonsense makes as much sense as a so-called “pagan” deck I had that still had angels on “Judgement” and a stereotypal devil on Major Arcanum #15.  Going uber-patriarchal and using Minoan art to put males first, oh-so-specially stupid.

My only (actual) quibble with the art changes?  Instead of “Justice” being a female with a scale and sword?  It is four men stomping grapes.  Now while I admit, that just might remind me of the right wing side of the Supreme Court’s “band of brothers”, I don’t see the connection to archetypal Justice.

Also, I’d been reading the cards (without the book) for about four days when I found MY readings not making sense and came to a sudden realization.  Since I had NOT previously consulted the book more than a brief glance when I first got the cards, I had not integrated the idea that Perry uses Swords (Daggers) as the Fire suit, and Wands (Labrys) as Air.  Mind you, ages ago I had preferred this tarot “heresy” of sort because wooden wands burn and what good are they then?  But recent work over the last few years, and research to find the source of such elemental attributions gave me a better grasp and reason to accept the traditional attribution.

The most ancient precursors of tarot cards came from Persia, where Magian priests (fire priests) carried a staff (baton/wand) of office.  Thus Wands = Fire.  So I spent all day Monday replacing my falling-apart older “cribbing” book on tarot notes and researches with a new one, transcribing my old notes and adding, in Swords and Wands, the transposed “explanations”.  Immediately, putting a “Labrys” definition to a “Daggers” card made it (1) match all my older notes on meanings and (2) made recent readings make sense.  Since both her images, daggers and labrys, would be forged in flame and be inflammable themselves – the confusion grows.  A labrys (aside from being me, of course) was a temple decoration in Minoan Crete – not a real battleaxe.  So it would have been more akin to the staff of office of a fire priest and thus the Fire attribution: the passion/creative/religious pictography.  And that leaves Daggers/Swords to be the Air identified image – the mental “cutting” tools of humanity.

I still may pull those extra Priest/Priestess cards out of the deck.  They annoy me, and I am trying to decide if they contribute anything of value to the card spreads to make it worth stomping down my aggravation.  Grrrrr.  All this gnashing of my teeth makes me glad I don’t chomp bon bons.


Tuesday Tarot; Post Script on Wearing the Tarot

That three of swords. Ow.  I mean, fucking Ouch!

But it is getting better as realization sinks into my skin like the emerald green bathwater of my morning.

Day-sky turquoise and night-sky lapis shards.  This card, this necklace, is not a prognosticator or the future griefs to come.  It is permission to mourn and cry for the ones I already HAVE.

In the last six weeks, I’ve seen my son’s recent marriage go down in flames because his lovely new bride was not only mentally ill and a pathological liar, but actually criminal.  This broke his tender heart.  We lost two “instant” grand-daughters and that broke all our hearts.

In the flailing about over all that hurt, I didn’t notice soon enough that MY husband was spiraling back down into his PTSD cage of avoidance and rage if dragged OUT of his chosen seclusion.  Then there was another school shooting and I wept for the children of strangers.  Again.

Then, as the issues about how hard a neighbor is making it to get safe, clean non-coliform bacteria polluted water for four households rose to a crescendo of shouts and tears?  I needed to cry for my own marriage.  A PTSD patient who lashes out in ways that trigger my age old PTSD; not a good prospect for trust and love.  I didn’t go beach combing.  I sent him, alone.  Even that hurts, and more than just the admission of failure just when I thought things were looking up.

So today, the three of swords is on my chest.  I do routine household tasks, I nap, I cry.  I have permission to mourn and grieve before I try to decide what direction “up” is from here.  Surely, we all need that permission now and again, don’t we?

Tuesday Tarot




I still feel like I am three laps behind in some sort of relay race, what’s worse is I think I lost the baton!

Monday was the day to pack for a brief hiking bit.  I drew the 4 of pentacles.  In spite of this “Lady of Earthly Powers” saying nothing about misers or money issues in the title, the very suit itself set off my compulsive worry and fear about finances.  I am not miserly; if anything I tend to be too generous to others and stingy with myself.  I am afraid every time I spend money on myself…expecting some financial disaster in recompense of my own enjoyment.

This card is about success in money and projects – that’s why I picked a green stone necklace that makes me think of Ishtar and happy powerful divine females!  So I told myself this is a “good for me” packing to enjoy and recharge myself .

I reminded myself that I was still just being triggery and jumpy.  Told myself I cannot hide in my house, snuggled in my bed forever.  Reminded myself it is healthy to get out and into nature again, to listen to the roar of the (allegedly) Pacific Ocean and the cries of seabirds.  I mean, as my old astrologically involved friend would have said, “What Scorpio wouldn’t love that?”  Well, this one when triggered, apparently.  I don’t like much of anything just now!

Drawing today’s “wear” card was not one damned bit of help with that anxiety.  Seriously, the 3 of bloody Swords?!  I am SO not wearing that.  Not today.  (Except I finally DID put it on and the lapis warmed up saying to me “You’ve GOT this, you can handle this.”) I made it with bits of silver-toned beads, tiny reconstituted turquoise beads and big slabs of lapis.  All on a magnetic clasped bit of crap from a craft store.  Yes, it is too heavy for the magnet…thus the safety chain I rigged with leftover bits.  One day I will re-make this rather doleful piece with a better clasp.

Staring with horror at the card and/or jewelry isn’t helping me much.  I don’t want to have “fights and heartbreak and separations.”  Can’t three chunks of lapis just BE three chunks of lapis and not the end of my emotional world, for pity’s sake.  I don’t want to drive back from beach-combing in bitter angry silence.  Can this please just mean I am stressed over “separating” from my sons, my house, my pets, my own comfy bed?  Swords is the suit of air and mind — and BLUE SKIES damn it!  I tell myself I can mentally get past this utter dread and chickenshit fear.

But then, the entire dialog is derailed anyhow.  Misery and sorrow IS the order of the day.  The seemingly normal need for a signature on county papers for getting our new well in has mushroom-clouded into a huge mess.  Our hateful neighbor, against the new well all along and obfuscating every step of the process is doing it again.  A test of the existing well water needs done for annual paperwork – we want it done as the well is, not chlorine shocked to a fare-thee-well.  So that, too, involved argument to get the test done before he again violated state and county procedure on testing the well.

We DID that test privately for our own non-peace of mind.  Unfortunately, the existing well equipment and water DOES show pollution with coliform bacteria.  All our fears are true and this guy want to go on hiding the truth.  The new well water is CLEAN.  We do not want it running into a 40 year old holding tank just because Mr. Jerk-Neighbor doesn’t want new equipment; we don’t want to need to boil our water or permanently chlorinate the well (Chlorinated water makes me sick — rashes and stomach upset) because the current well equipment is so old it cannot feasibly be cleaned.  We HAVE money enough for all new plumbing equipment – but this one guy is blocking it and convincing his weak-willed neighbor to support him: two against two.