Five Things to Love

I have been participating in an Instagram challenge hosted by @violetauraphoto for the month of February. Each day participants receive a prompt for which cards can be pulled in whatever manner suits each individual. For the fifth day of February the prompt was: “Five Things to Love About Me.”

Honestly my first reaction went something like: “Ugh. Do I actually have to list things that others would love about me? I can’t do that. That’s weird. It’s a little self-centered. Can Jorge do this one for me?” Ultimately I decided that I would just have my cards and runes help me to identify five areas of value in who and how I am as a person. I chose to use: the Goddess Knowledge Cards (Susan Seddon-Boulet), the Earthbound Oracle (Andy Swartz), the Ancestral Path Tarot (Julie Cuccia-Watts and Tracey Hoover), the New Orleans Voodoo Tarot (Sallie Ann Glassman and Louis Martinié) and my homemade rune set.

In the end this turned out to be an exercise in self-love and understanding more than anything else, and I would recommend that all card readers take a moment to do this for themselves:

1. Changing Woman. I embrace constant evolution of my being; I meet people wherever they're at, no matter their gender, background, culture, or walk of life. I see the youth in the elder and the wisdom in the child.

2. Home. (A turtle carries its home on its back. In this image its slow-moving shell provides a perfect nesting area for birds to fly in and out, without ever losing track of their place in the world.) No matter where we are, I am home for my family.

3. 8 of Swords. (The imagery stood out to me here – a woman wrapped in beautiful but impractical clothes, in shoes not meant for travel. She looks longingly out toward the rising sun, as if wishing she could choose some other path.) I challenge the status quo, and outdated socio-cultural mores that limit self-determination and self-discovery.

4. Hagal. (The 9th rune, the deep, sighing breath). I look for the grace in difficult and unexpected circumstances; I don't hide from the dark.

5. Ace of Air, Damballah. I seek clarity and justice, the seed of truth in all things, the wisdom of Damballah Wedo.

Contemplating "Home"

Since writing the Samhain post about honoring my grandfather, Giuseppe, the other day, I've been thinking about the concept of "home." He moved around a lot, was an immigrant a few times over, and when I was younger I found some sense of pleasure out of the description my mother gave our family as "nomads." Yes, we have appeared to have a sort of "itch," it seems.

Since our immigrant ancestors, we've ever been on the move. At first perhaps it was due to the pursuit of better economic conditions, but is there something more? A constant search for a feeling of "rightness" and belonging?

Last night I was watching an episode of the Originals (a vampire show) and the topic of "home" popped up. Two of the characters were discussing how fiercely they would defend their right to live in their home city, and I thought, "I don't know what that feels like." To be so connected to the place where you live that you would fight to stay there. So I decided to pull some cards about it. I didn't ask a clear question, I simply held this idea in my mind as I shuffled ("What is home, and how does a lack of home impact me? How do I find home?"). I pulled:

8 of Grails/Cups - Judgement rx - 10 of Skulls/Pentacles rx

Tarot of Vampyres

The 8 of Grails was fitting, since it is a card of movement, of dissatisfaction or lack of fulfillment. It's about going on a journey. There is something here of the nomad experience. The 10 of Skulls is the quintessential "family legacy" card - what do you pass down to future generations, and what have you received from your own ancestors? It's a card a closely associated with the essence of a family's material being and presence. And in the center lies Judgement, provoking so many questions I don't even know where to begin.

I live in central Florida now, but I was born on the east coast, and spent my early years between Connecticut and Rhode Island. At about kindergarten age my natal family moved to Michigan, and for nine years I lived in one town, moving to another (very different) city for the next eighteen years. Then my husband and I packed up our things and our kids, and drove into the deep south. You might think that Michigan would have been that "home" for me, but I felt discontented there despite having lived in that state for most of my life. It didn't feel like home, though it was certainly very familiar.

And while there have been many wonderful aspects about life in our "new" state, I don't feel at home in Florida either. So I ask myself:

Will we always keep moving on in search of a place that feels right? If so, we will never provide that land-rooted legacy for our future generations; instead ours will be a legacy of the nomad, the pilgrim, the wanderer. 

And if we always search, are we destined never to find? 

Is the answer in the act of deciding to stay rooted to a place, to not move even when we feel discontented? 

Is the answer in the realization that our legacy moves within us and doesn't need to be anchored; that perhaps our legacy itself is in our movement?

Is there perhaps no answer at all? 

Perhaps this is the legacy of all immigrants who lose their connection to ancestral lands. There is something to be said for the "family oversoul" - those gentle energetic ties that connect us to our parents, grandparents, great-grandparents and beyond. As I did a cursory search of my own blog I found that for last year's Samhain post I had a "conversation" with my grandmother (who passed on thirty years ago) and the 10 of Pentacles was the heart of the draw. It's interesting that it has come up again almost exactly one year later. In the context of that post the focus was on honoring and reuniting family - the idea that home is where the largest grouping of multigenerational family is. A year ago we were considering moving back to Michigan since my mother and step-father are still there. And yet we are still here, with no plans to go anywhere anytime soon.

I sometimes imagine how our family's oversoul impacts me, us. Does my grandfather's wandering nature wield a more forceful vibration through the generational lines? His children, whose American bloodline epicenter lies in Connecticut, are now in Michigan, Tennessee, and Florida. Two of them are fairly regular world travelers. Their children are in England, New Zealand, Alaska, Saudi Arabia, Boston, Florida, California. The net is cast ever wider. Most of those are world travelers as well.

So is "home" in the people, or in the land? Is it in both? How do we recapture a sense of belonging - to each other, to a particular part of the earth? Or do we not? Do we simply restructure, rebuild, reconfigure family "legacy"? Do we start over, honoring the past and releasing it? I don't know, but I'll be sitting with this for time to come.