This morning I rose early, as usual, made the fire, made coffee, and drew two cards, from two very different decks. From the Wildwood Tarot, I drew The Wheel. And from my new Mirrors of the Heart oracle, Steadfastness.
Such opposing concepts. On the one hand, the great wheel of life turns, seasons change, the old is rolled over and the new rushes in on the breeze – the tapestry of life is woven from many threads and found things. On the other – solidity, foundation, and the ability to withstand this change.
The Wheel traditionally represents the cycle of eternal law and evolution that all living creatures are governed by. Change is unavoidable and necessary if the cycles of nature are to remain alive and regenerative. But on the human level we are the weavers of our own destiny.
Mark Ryan and John Matthews, The Wildwood Tarot
It feels like a message to anchor myself to something – to weather storms, to know what my rocks are amidst the inevitable march of time. To allow myself to go with the flow of change thetis around and within us all, yet at the same time to learn how to sit peacefully and observe and learn from ancient places – rocks, mountains, trees, standing stones – that have withstood centuries and seen so much. Amidst change, there is stillness, amidst stillness, there is change.
I know that this is something I must learn this year – how to blend these two opposing energies, rather than dashing from one extreme to the next. I tend to be overwhelmed by a feeling of stuck-ness, so deliberately create chaos and change in my life, just for the hell of it. Then, when I crave a little stability, I slow down to the point that I feel low, stuck, unmotivated. To be at the same time rolling with the changes and able to find space to observe what is changing – what is left behind and what is coming in.
I’m sitting at my desk, in my caravan by the sea, watching, as I have every morning for seven days, the dawn. It is achingly slow – first blackness, then, gradually, a deep deep indigo creeps over the land. I begin to see the silhouette of the mountains of Knoydart, across the sound, emerge from the dark. Slowly, slowly, the sky lightens, revealing cloud and the snowy contours of the landscape, morning birds fishing in the lagoon below, until, finally, the sun emerges behind the trees on the forested point that juts out beside this bay, and I can fathom what kind of a morning it might be. At this point in the day, it’s easier to see change happening. And to know that, whatever I was feeling, whatever I desired, this would happen regardless. The change itself is steadfast; the sun always rises, the next day always comes, bringing potential, bringing change. There’s a rock, an anchor, in simply knowing this.
I’m a 30-something writer, artist, tarot reader, and perpetual explorer of the space between thought, feeling, and action.
I believe that spirituality and ritual are for everybody. I’m about the journey, in all of its messy, non-linear, chaotic iterations. I am excited by anticapitalist business and living with my whole entire self present. I use tarot cards to bring forth hidden truth, and ritual to affirm my commitment, over and over, to my ever-shifting path.