November Cards: Believe In Yourself

Admittedly a bit late, I've decided to pull some "cards of the month" for November. Rather than use assigned positions, I simply pulled a line of three from the Pagan Otherworlds Tarot, and an oracle card from the Dat Black Mermaid Man Lady deck.

Judgment - 6 of Cups - Chariot

Ole Caney Sharp - Divine Opportunity

I sat down with cards and coffee on my son's race car rug in the early hours of Saturday morning as he played superhero next to me with his trucks and an assortment of miscellaneous items. It was a nice way to start the weekend.

I understood the significance of this line almost immediately. Though my job focuses primarily on directing an English language program, I have recently been called to give presentations on cultural awareness. Language acquisition is a small aspect of the overall theme, but much of the "weightier" material delves into concepts of religious diversity, racism, and cultural labeling. This sort of work is a passion of mine. My undergraduate degree is in Cultural Anthropology, and most of my adult life has involved addressing injustice, increasing awareness of the beautiful fabric and texture of human existence, and preserving ancient legacies - language, traditions - before they are lost in an ever-expanding globalized society. I am one half of an interracial marriage, and my children straddle a number of cultural and racial divides that will likely bring them (in addition to many joys) frustrations from an outside world that struggles to place things (and people) in tidy (and utterly limiting) boxes. Throughout my life I have worked in various roles in places that include Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota, central city urban neighborhoods, immigrant communities, and the Basque Country, Spain. Honoring and understanding the breadth and depth of humankind, and facilitating that understanding in other people, is extraordinarily important to me. 

An initial invitation to give a presentation to administrators who support international students gave way to a second invitation to present on cultural awareness to a group of faculty members from two different departments, which then led to a third invitation to present to yet another department at the end of the month. Judgment is an interesting card because it both represents the elements of this work that feel like a true "calling" and it also touches on how hard I am on myself. After that first presentation I ruthlessly beat myself up about "what people might have thought," and "how much more clearly I should have explained [insert topic]." My husband was a bit shocked at what he dubbed my "self punishment." And he was right - that is exactly what I was doing to myself. Ultimately I received so much positive feedback that I came to understand that it "wasn't that bad" after all (!) which was both a relief and a blessing. When the day came to present for the second time, my daily draw was Judgement. I didn't think about it at the time, but later I realized that perhaps this was touching on something deeper than I was acknowledging. (And that session went very well!)

The 6 of Cups represents this connection to who I have always been, my essential self, that part of me that has remained unchanged since childhood. In doing this work I'm tapping into a voice that has a lot to say; a part of myself that has gathered experience and perspective over many years, and is primed for expression. The Chariot gathers all of that up and carries it forth into the world. It tells me that I have a lot to do, and so much more to develop and explore in this capacity. As I approach my third presentation, I've already started to consider how to expand into a "part two." There is so much that can be discussed in the broad arena of diversity and cross-cultural understanding, and in the current limit of two hours I can only scratch the surface. I see that there is a need for it, and a place, as well, and that will spur me onward in the coming months and year ahead. 

Ole Caney Sharp represents the energy of Elegua, my dear friend and road-opener. When I read the advice on the back of the card I had to laugh in appreciation. It says: 

Let your questions go

you ain't got to know.

You thinks too much

that's why you stuck.

Get on up

and fly.

I have spent a lot of time lately considering how much I over-think, over-worry, and thereby limit myself. This card is a pointed reminder that (as illustrated by my intense - and unfounded - self-criticism following my first presentation) I tend to clip my own wings, and that it's a good moment to let go of that bad habit and see where the winds take me.....

Dance and Synchronicity

This morning my mother sent me a link to a group called 5Rhythms and asked me to take a look. Before I had a chance to delve in, I noticed that she had also posted a couple of videos of one of the Australian-based teachers of The Dancing Path (part of 5Rhythms), and decided to have a listen. The first video was about the importance of "occupying" our bodies - of living into each aspect of our being, utilizing each of our senses to its fullest, and ultimately of living now rather than focusing on the future.

The second video, by the same teacher (Kate Shela), was related to the topic of dance. One thing that she said that particularly resonated with me was the notion that the entire cosmos lives within each of our beings; the axis-mundi, the World Tree, is entirely part of us, as if all of us were home to the whole universe. Dance, she said, is a way to activate our entire beings, and to re-member our selves.

A short while later I decided to pull a card from the Dat Black Mermaid Man Lady oracle, and drew one of the "David" cards. David is a character from the theater production that goes by the same name as the deck, and his energies correspond to Chango. The "David cards" all connect to the energy of "Purpose."

Upon flipping the card over to review its advice, I found the following:

"Dance." Well hey.

Purpose; dance.

According to the website, the 5Rhythms include: Flowing, Staccato, Chaos, Lyrical, and Stillness. It says:

"In dancing 5Rhythms you can track perceptions and memories; seek out gestures and shapes; tune into instincts and intuitions. They reveal ways to creatively express aggressiveness and vulnerability, emotions and anxieties, edges and ecstasies. They reconnect us to cycles of birth, death and renewal and hook us up to the spirit in all living things. They initiate us back into the wisdom of our bodies and unleash movement’s dynamic healing power."

There is deep purpose in this.

I don't dance nearly as much as I should. Perhaps it's time to start.

A Hankering for the 4 of Wands

This September, the Lady of Serpents (on Instagram) is hosting a self-exploration challenge and today's prompt is: "What do I unknowingly carry with me?" I love that question - it's great for identifying hidden influences that need a little illumination!

I shuffled my Fountain Tarot and drew the 4 of Wands.

Four people dance together on a sandy beach by an expanse of water. Four beams of light reach up into the sky, almost like spotlights at a party. These people, whoever they are, are having a very good time together.

As I sat with this card the word that kept coming back to me was, release. The 4 of Wands is a card of completion, of celebration, of letting go of routine (albeit momentarily). This card often represents occasions such as graduation parties, weddings, anniversaries, and can even symbolize much-needed vacations. No matter what event it connects to, the 4 of Wands represents the joy inherent in removing the framework that gives daily life its structure. We all need that from time to time, and we, as human beings, regardless of culture, nationality, or faith, always have.

Just yesterday I was sitting outside with my husband, enjoying the early evening breeze, watching as the sun broke over an invisible horizon to paint the clouds with peachy hues. As we chatted, our conversation turned to a topic that highlighted this concept of release. He spoke of the desire for community - particularly of a web of relation-ship with people he grew up with, of an environment widely conducive to his first language. I spoke of how much I've been missing northern nature - the forests, fresh waters, the aroma of pine needles in the air. We discussed our distinct lack of any sort of community at all where we live currently; we moved here for our jobs more than four years ago and in certain ways still feel a keen sense of isolation.

Looking at the 4 of Wands, I was brought back to my own memories of release-moments: when my mother and step-dad married; a week-long trip to the family home in the northern woods with extended family; time spent at a North Carolina beach house with family and friends. Yes, I thought, I am carrying this with me - a need for celebration, release, with people I know and care about.

As I pondered this, I shuffled my Dat Black Mermaid Man-Lady oracle deck and drew a card. I could see that it was one of the Dreamer cards, which represent the reader's own soul energy.

And when I turned it over I laughed in appreciation at its message:

Family! Indeed, family; kin. The embrace of people with whom deep bonds are shared.

My family is scattered around the globe. Some are in Michigan, some in Utah. Some are on the East Coast, and some are in Tennessee. Some are in Alaska. Some are in England, and some are in New Zealand. Some are in Saudi Arabia. With so many of us spread out so far, congregating becomes a challenge, and thus happens infrequently, or not at all. Cousins grow up and seek their own adventures. They establish their families in new places. It is good, in its way, but at times bittersweet, too.

My husband and I were planning a grand getaway at the end of September, just the two of us. We kept putting off planning, and I started to sense that there was a reason - a certain "something" - that was silently staying the process. I waited to see what it might be.

We finally decided not to go anywhere at all. Rather, we would spend the time at home-base, and venture out on day trips, go on dates, and enjoy some time together in that manner. My mother was still planning to come to town to look after the kids. And then my sister let us know that she'd be descending upon our household as well, flying in from the Middle East to spend a month or more with us during her own down time. My mother, my sister, my husband, our kids. All under one roof.

By ultimately choosing to stay put, we unwittingly created a space for the 4 of Wands to manifest.

Doing the Hard Thing

I was hungering for a deck, and nothing was right. I searched at shops, I scanned through the pages of online sellers, I looked at the newest upcoming indie decks. Nope. Nothing. Through a somewhat incidental (is anything ever really incidental?) conversation I learned about the "dat Black Mermaid Man Lady" oracle deck created from the heart and soul of Sharon Bridgforth, and I knew that was "it" - I purchased it before I even really knew very much about it, and was pleased to come home to it waiting for me in the mailbox this afternoon.

I sat down with it and decided that for the inaugural reading I would ask: "What message do I need to hear in this moment?" I shuffled, and cut, and I drew one of the four "Dreamer" cards which represent the self, or soul of the reader. 

Then I turned it over to read the wisdom, consisting of a keyword and an excerpt from the "dat Black Mermaid Man Lady" production. It was: Deep Emotions.

Gah. Yep. I was feeling a lot of things at that moment. In fact, I'd had a pretty decent day until I received a series of emails in the early afternoon regarding a few (more) difficult meetings that I will be mediating next week. My heart immediately sunk deep down into my gut and made a nice little nest there. Why this reaction? I mediate well. The meetings won't necessarily be anything out of the ordinary for their type. Why was I feeling so...blue....about it? 

I decided to ask the Tarot of the Cat People to help me identify the source of these deep emotions. I pulled two cards - the Ace of Swords, and the Hanged Man.

The Ace of Swords, the truth. Fairness and clear speech. This man is ready for battle, though his face is calm. The truth hurts. I'm not afraid to speak it. I use my words well. Like this warrior I'm not afraid to meet conflict when necessary. In mediation it's quite interesting to listen to the parties speak, to parse out the grains of truth, the utterances, the perceptions, the thoughts that illuminate the heart of the matter; they are little swords of their own that help me to cut away the excess fibers and fog that build up around and between two people when they are at odds and don't know how to communicate their experiences to each other. 

Why would this make me sad, why would it evoke such a deep emotional response within me?

I thought... the truth does hurt. Just because I am not afraid of it doesn't mean that the edges aren't sharp. I am empathic by nature, absorbing the hurts and joys alike of others. I believe that this is, in part, what makes me effective in mediation, but as able as I am to help others navigate the hazy straits of conflict when called to my duty, it has an impact on me. I have always been a peacemaker, I have always supported harmony. Conflict has always been difficult for me to process and integrate. I like to be alone, in fact, as a general rule (not counting my family, of course). And here I am in a position that requires so much communication, that stretches my diplomatic nature to its limits at times, that pulls and pushes on my desires to be free of all of these ties that come with this responsibility that I have: to navigate a group, a department full of unique souls, through waves that can be choppy at times - that can threaten to toss some people overboard every once in a while. I mediate as part of my work, and while it can be extremely rewarding, it can also, if I'm truthful, be really hard sometimes. 

So, today it is hard. Today, I'm not in the mood - I want to push it away, off my plate, I want to fast-forward to September. I want it to be over already. Yes, I will have to do this thing that I'd rather not do, but I owe it to myself to at least acknowledge that it feels uncomfortable today. 

The Hanged Man is Odin singing in my ear that there is no sacrifice without wisdom on the other end; that pain is instructive; in fact, sometimes it's the only way. What challenges us makes us stronger, opens the way for personal growth to blossom forth (particularly when accompanied by a healthy dose of self-reflection). There is ultimately great good in doing the hard thing (and in remembering to take care of ourselves in the process).