Conditioning

From the Wild Unknown Tarot, the Six of Cups; from the Pictish Oracle, Cauldron:

A lot of times you're just conditioned by what's around you. 

―Ruben Blades

Not just our genetics have shaped us. Like the seed that is planted - getting or not getting enough sun, water and nutrients - we too are shaped by our experiences and environment. We may learn that anger is okay but showing fear is not, or that kindness should be shared unconditionally. Like the potter's hands that mold the clay, we become conditioned to relate to life in certain ways. Yet all conditioned things are impermanent and changeable, as the Cauldron implies. Though we have incorporated certain emotional patterns, we can also learn and practice new ones. We don't have to cook up the same pot of stew every day. 

Response to Pain

This week I'll be using the Wild Unknown Tarot, created and self-published by Kim Krans. I'll also be using the Pictish Oracle, created by myself and brought to life in 3-D form by the laser talents of Deborah Ross. Today's draws are the Three of Swords and the Cauldron:

Loss often results in a strange tangle of grief and anger that ties our rational mind in knots. Such strong emotions override our ability to see a situation with any degree of accuracy or objectivity. Any action taken while within this muddle will likely make things worse. Instead of impulsively reacting, we can choose to do nothing for the moment; we can stop fueling the mental story and let the energy pass. Yet the Cauldron symbolizes something we can feed and nurture - our spirit through acts of self-care (rather than self-indulgence). We can find a creative outlet, cry, connect to our support systems, go for a walk outside or engage in some other wholesome activity to help us find our center again. 

The difference between an unwise person and a wise person lies in how they respond to pain, not in whether or not they achieve an absence of pain.

―Vidyamala Burch

Soup Ingredients

From the Neuzeit Tarot, Temperance; from Rory's Story Cubes, Cauldron:

          Taking the middle path is not an easy road. Those who are aggressive and natural leaders (wolf) might seem they have the upper hand, yet the fly agaric mushroom points to intoxication (of power) that can cause that person to become completely self-centered (making more enemies than friends). On the other end are those who are submissive followers (sheep); they prefer to let the herbal flowers relax them since someone else will take responsibility. They tell themselves they are unselfish, but their sacrifices are purely those of a martyr. But Temperance mixes both these extremes, knowing that we are often called to play different roles at different times - student or teacher, benefactor or recipient, hero or sidekick.
          The cauldron reminded me of making a pot of soup; everyone seems to have a preference for one kind over another. I detest potato soup, but I love both homemade vegetable and chicken and rice. It might seem nice if we got to structure our days like we made our preferred soups, putting in only the ingredients we liked and leaving out what we didn't. But then I would never meet anyone who didn't like my particular soup, and I would never get to try new soups. Thankfully, life isn't set up that way, and I shouldn't expect it to be. The world is a natural mix of unpleasant and pleasant, and I can better navigate both by avoiding the extremes.

Who's Playing the Instrument?

From the Greenwood Tarot, the Nine of Arrows (Swords):

Potter explains that this woman is playing her bow like a musical instrument rather than using it as a weapon. Waves of sound move outward, indicated by other arrows. Potter's artistic rendering has a much more positive feel to it than the RWS version (with a woman anxiously holding her head). Comparing the two versions makes me ask the question, "Are my thoughts a useful tool for me or are they my master?" If I let myself be bombarded by thoughts and never question their validity, then they have power over me. If I look for any evidence of truth and find none, I can send them on their way. After all, it is the musician who plays the instrument, not the other way around.

From the Pictish Oracle comes the tile "Cauldron:"

 

The Picts incised this symbol from a viewpoint of looking down into a cauldron. These huge iron pots were used as cooking tools, but the carved picture on the Glamis Manse Stone (with two sets of legs sticking out of the cauldron) shows cauldrons had other purposes as well. Some researchers theorize they were used for ritual drownings, while others believe they were symbols of rebirth and regeneration. This time of year, with holidays approaching, I usually find myself in need of being restored to sanity. All the "shoulds" and "what ifs" flood my brain, making me more than a little crazy. The cauldron reminds me to put all these thoughts on "simmer." There may be something important I need to be aware of, but all of the anxiety (water) is keeping me from recognizing it. Once the water boils off (and I calm down), I'll be able to separate fact from fiction.