Seeking the Gifts

This week I'll be using the PetraK Tarot, created by Petra Reiter-Köck and published by Piatnik. The oracle I'll be using this week is the AstroDice, created by Wessex Astrologer Ltd. It consists of three dice: one for Planets, one for Signs and one for Houses. Today's draw and roll are Death and Neptune in Cancer, 1st House:

No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man. ―Heraclitus

I'm currently reading Joan Chittister's Gift of Aging. In her introduction, she states that the book is not about dying because we don't need to get old to die. Change and loss begin soon after we're born as a natural part of impermanence. In Petra's card, the scorpion represents the sting of loss, but the butterfly symbolizes the beauty and understanding that can come too. Yet if we cling to tightly to the sting, we miss the gift. Neptune in Cancer within the 1st House suggests being viewed by others as a person who drifts toward people and places that feel like emotional home. In times of great change and bereavement, that seems like a sane and safe response in order to learn to accept and to heal.

A Life to Remember

From the Herbcrafter's Tarot, Death (Marigold); from the Green Wheel Oracle, Honey Bee:

I shall not die of a cold, my son. I shall die of having lived.

—Willa Cather

Marigolds are used on many Día de los Muertos altars; these flowers are said to guide the souls of the dead to family altars using its bright color and strong scent. Monarch butterflies, traversing thousands of miles during its migration, are also a symbol of this holiday. While other cultures might question this celebration, the words of Jack Lemmon explain it: "Death ends a life, not a relationship." Making death an acquaintance is not a bad idea, as it reminds us of what is precious and important. Plus, we'll all have to make that migrational journey at some point. Honey Bee emphasizes what we should be focusing on while we still can. These insects work together to gather pollen to create food for the hive while also pollenating plants. Purpose and meaning can be found in relationship and through altruistic actions - things that create a life worth living and remembering.  

Planting While Dancing

From the Light and Shadow Tarot, the Endless Dance of Death; from the Art Rounds, Chestnut Tree:

Death is nature's way of saying, 'Your table is ready.'

—Robin Williams

The "Endless Dance" of this card suggests that death is not just about one's final breath; it includes all the stages beforehand as things begin to age and break down. If we're brave enough to face this constant companion, we might worry less and live more. We're all waiting to be seated at that table, but shouldn't we enjoy our dance while we're still upright? The fruit of the Chestnut Tree is contained in a pod covered with sharp spines called a burr. The spiny burr protects the nuts inside until they are fully ripe, then it splits open to release them. Likewise, our life will leave behind seeds in the form of actions and words. What will the later generations think of what grows from them?

Little Steps Forward

From the Prisma Visions Tarot, Death; from the Secret Language of Color Cards, Burgandy:

Impermanence means that the appearance of stability we take for granted in everyday life, for practical purposes, is ultimately an illusion, the construction of a mind infused with desire and fear.

—C. W. Huntington

The beautiful blooms of the camellias are on display now; each flower generally lasts about a week before it falls to the ground. On a regular basis, we are asked to let go of something we feel is integral to our life. Acceptance can take a while, and that's okay. We just need to be careful not to make any irrational or impulsive decisions during this period. The deep red of Burgandy asks us to find our passion. This may seem impossible if grief (or anger) has us in its grip. Yet we don't have to go back to what did before - we can take tiny steps toward other joys. How? We can commit to self-discovery (journaling or a therapist); we can express ourselves through art; we can maintain our connections to others; and we can offer ourselves kindness and compassion.

Becoming

From the Tarot of the Secret Forest, the Three of Wands; from the Faeries' Oracle, Death:

Don't be afraid to expand yourself, to step out of your comfort zone. That's where the joy and the adventure lie. –Herbie Hancock

This fox, who has moved beyond familial territory, pauses in amazement at all that lies before him. Being willing to take a step into the unknown can open up a world of wonders and excitement that we never knew existed. Making use of the dormant potential within us can change us in positive ways. Death arrives as a bringer of natural endings. What ends? That terrified part of us that thought such change could never be navigated successfully.  As John Ruskin wrote, "The highest reward for a person's toil is not what they get for it, but what they become by it."

Long Enough

From the Rosetta Tarot, Death; from the Day of the Dead Lenormand, Heart:

All compounded things are subject to vanish.

―Buddha

Meleen's Death figure wears a fish cloak, depicting how he patrols the river of life, unfolding decay and mortality along the way. Death does not care if such change is welcomed or feared. His appearance reminds me of the Three Insights:

1. Everything is temporary; experiences are continually changing. 
2. Every experience has the potential for startling the mind into confused resistance (suffering) or arousing it into sober attentiveness (equanimity).
3. Everything is contingent. Nothing happens without having been caused by something and without impacting future events.

The Heart reminds us to love deeply, widely and fully, even in this transient world. As Seneca advocated: "It is not that we have a short time to live, but that we waste a lot of it. Life, if well lived, is long enough."

Subject to Change

 From the Middle Way Arcana, the Hermit; from the Vertical Oracle, Death:

Possibly driving some of the misunderstanding of retreat is a deep-seated fear of being alone without distraction, without entertainment, without ‘work,’ without other people around to constantly confirm our sense of self. —Reginald Ray

In all the noise and busyness of our lives, it's easy to forget that we are more than our roles and beliefs. The Hermit takes a break from the daily swirl to find quiet and stillness. He knows that we are not the identities our ego chooses to face the world with; we all have a luminous buddha nature within. We don't have to earn it, as it is ever-present. We just have to let go of our obsessive attachments (that we think define us) for it to appear. Death shows a door flying through a cyclone, symbolizing the constant change and transitions we undergo. If we lose the abilities, things, or people who define us, who will we be? The Dhammapada says, “All conditioned* things are not-self. When one sees this with wisdom, one turns away from suffering.”

[*Conditioned things are created when certain causes and conditions come together; their nature is to be impermanent because causes and conditions are always changing.]

The Great Perhaps

From the Middle Way Arcana, Death; from the Vertical Oracle, Magic:

At one time or another, everyone loses something.

~Lama Surya Das

The Buddha called impermanence one of the distinguishing marks of existence. Though we may intellectually understand that nothing is permanent and everything is changing, we rarely integrate this fact into our day-to-day life. I've had two reminders this week - the death of my backdoor neighbor and the breakdown of our HVAC unit (a necessity in our heat and humidity). Again, I am reminded not to be neglectful but to embrace life and find delight in it. The companion booklet describes Magic occurring "when imagination informs intellect." The open doors and windows in these cards suggest that the thinking mind needs to fly outside its confines. There are a wide range of possibilities when thoughts are replaced by wings. I shall take the guidance of François Rabelais: "I go to seek a Great Perhaps."

Instead...

This week I'll be using the Dark Mansion Tarot, an independently published deck (Taroteca Studio) by Krzysztof Wasiuk and Magdalena Kaczan (artist). I'll also be using Miss Mai's Victorian Oracle, a self-published deck created by Mai (surname unknown). Today's draws are Death and Pocket Watch:

When you die, the first thing you lose is your life.  The next thing is your illusions.

― Terry Pratchett

Death looks tired and perplexed, probably wondering why humans can't grasp that everything and everyone has an end date. People get sick, age and die. Things wear down and fall apart. The Pocket Watch is ticking, as minutes, hours and days are wasted with needless worry, anger, and envy instead of used for joy, kindness, and wonder. As Pratchett's Death intoned, "That's mortals for you, they've only got a few years in this world, and they spend them all in making things more complicated for themselves." I vote for a day of simplicity, laughter, and appreciation instead.

What is Given

From the Gill Tarot, Death; from the Circle Cards, Surrender:

All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.

― J.R.R. Tolkien

Intellectually, we all know that we will die, that we will lose the things and people we love one day. But knowing it doesn't mean our hearts will embrace it. Lemony Snicket wrote that it is always a surprise when it happens: "It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things." The Hanged Man tries to prepare us for those moments, giving us a chance to feel our powerlessness over certain situations. Thus, the Surrender card advises we need to stop fighting reality and accept it. If and when we do, we'll know to tread with more care and attention.

Dance with a Limp

From the Buckland Romani Tarot, Death; from the Lakota Sweat Lodge Cards, Sacred Herbs:

Eventually, everything goes away.

― Elizabeth Gilbert

Winter is a season that shows us how to let go, rest and weep for what we've lost that once gave us a sense of security and brightened our days. Form becomes formless energy, which does not die but exists in new ways. Sacred Herbs suggest we find rituals to accept and heal this emptiness and numbness we're left with, a process that will happen on our own timetable. As Anne Lamott wrote, "It’s like having a broken leg that never heals perfectly—that still hurts when the weather gets cold, but you learn to dance with the limp."

Flowing, Not Freezing

From the Deirdre of the Sorrows Tarot, Death; from the Victorian Flower Oracle, Hemlock:

Death lends profound equality to all. ~Joan Halifax

We humans crave stability and security, desperate for something we can count on not to fall apart or disappear. Yet Death cares not; he swings his scythe wide and cuts down whatever is in its path making space for the new. We may escape a few sweeps, but we will not escape them all. As the Hemlock card symbolizes, we may feel as if we have been deceived and cheated. Yet as Vanessa Z. Goddard writes, "We can learn to move with instead of against that change, seeing that the stability we're looking for lies in our own ability to flow, not freeze."

Clear the Path

From the Anna K Tarot, Death; from the Meditation Cards, Erupting Patterns:

 

If the path before you is clear, you're probably on someone else's.

― Joseph Campbell

Death beckons, though not in an intimidating way. His message seems to be more about a need to clear the path in order to progress further. What needs to be released? The message from Erupting Patterns (via a quote from Pema Chodron) points to the blockage:

Those of us with strong addictions know that working with habitual patterns begins with the willingness to fully acknowledge our urge, and the willingness not to act on it.

When strong emotions arise, especially in response to unexpected change or uncertainty, it's easy to step back into habits of thinking and reacting that appear to offer solace but actually don't benefit us. If we want to move forward, it's time to accept that they don't help us but hold us back.

Walking Home

This week I'll be using the Tarot Lukumi, a deck created by Caelum Rainieri, Ivory Andersen and Raphael Montoliu. It is published by Dal Negro and the artwork was done by Luigi Scapini. The oracle deck I'll be using this week is the Diloggun Cards, a digital set created through the use of art by Mase Lobe. Each card is associated with an Ifa ethic as well as a proverb, with information from a book by Ifa Karade called The Handbook of Yoruba Religious Concepts. Today's draws are Death and Ogbe (eight mouths):

We’re all just walking each other home.

―Ram Dass

Death is illustrated with Baron Samedi, a bawdy and irreverent Loa (a 'seize the day' reminder), tasked with guiding the dead to the afterlife and making sure the veil between the living and the dead is not disrupted. His role as guide reminded me of the quote above; I imagine him offering a commentary of kindness on our loss. While he would understand our sorrow, he helps us realize death is a shadow that follows everyone. Ogbe (eight mouths) offers a prophecy (ifa) and a proverb:

Ifa: Those who attain blessings are those who live by their wisdom. If we do not bear suffering that will fill a basket, we will not receive blessings that will fill a cup.

Proverb: The heart of the wise lay quiet like still waters.

Both of these messages suggest that life holds both joy and sorrow for all. Our best bet would be to take Ralph Marston's advice: "Accept things as they are and look realistically at the world around you." With clarity, we'll find our path forward.

A Lesson from Trees

This week I'll be using the Alchemical Tarot Renewed along with the book Alchemy and the Tarot, both created by Robert M. Place and published by Hermes Publications. Paired with it will be the Oracle of the Radiant Sun deck and book set, created by Caroline Smith and John Astrop and published through Eddison-Sadd Editions. The draws for today are Death and Caution (Mercury in Virgo):

I realize there’s something incredibly honest about trees in winter, how they’re experts at letting things go. ―Jeffrey McDaniel

In alchemy, putrefaction meant decomposition, a first step in the pathway to the philosopher's stone. In life, we also have things to let go of if we want to move on to something better. Hatred makes no room for love in the heart, and shame's decree of unworthiness gives us no space to grow. Nothing that causes us to suffer is worth clinging to, especially when there is something better for us on the horizon. Caution (Mercury in Virgo) warns us not to run for the first thing we see after we drop what we've been grasping. It would be prudent to investigate and see the whole picture, knowing what such a commitment means.

Fierce Love

From the Cosmic Tarot, the Eight of Wands; from the L'Oeil de Lotus, Death:

Life is like stepping onto a boat which is about to sail out to sea and sink.

— Shunryu Suzuki

In our younger years, we eagerly hurdle toward adulthood, ready to be independent and make our own decisions. In middle age, we are busy with families, jobs, and social groups. Then as we reach elderhood, we begin to realize what we've actually been racing toward - Death. It dawns on us that doing more might not be as important as loving more, and accumulating things not as significant as being generous. Yet Death on the horizon doesn't have to dampen our enthusiasm for life, in fact we can begin to love it all even more fiercely.  

Hard Truth

From the Prisma Visions Tarot, Death; from the Secret Language of Color Cards, Black:

The hard truth is, terrible things happen in life that we can’t control, and somehow we do bear them. We bear witness to them.  –Frank Ostaseski

Theravada Buddhist teacher Ajahn Chah taught his students about impermanence by holding up a glass and saying, "The glass is already broken." In other words, everything that we can touch or see will one day be gone. Is it possible to grieve our losses with mindfulness (without judgment)? If so, we might sense "a deep, deep loneliness and at the same time the connectedness of everything" (Robert Chodo Campbell). The message of the Black card suggests we "find richness from the dark night." Do we recognize the benevolent impact our loss had on us before it disappeared? Can we hold onto the meaning and gratitude that remembrance provides? And are we aware of those who support and encourage us as we grieve?

Grief

This week I'll be using the Spacious Tarot, a self-published deck that was a collaboration between Annie Ruygt and Carrie Mallon. I'll also be using the Phenomena Oracle, a deck self-published by Jessica Bott. Today's draws are Death and the Sun:

I want you, I need you, oh God,

Don't take

These beautiful things that I've got.

–Benson Boone

There is nothing in the physical world that doesn't have an expiration date. Yet the booklet reminds us that Death is an unbiased, neutral force; life cannot exist without decay. As nature teaches, it is that decay which nourishes that which comes next. But first we grieve our losses. The Sun suggests clarity, warmth and energy, and in the case of an ending, acceptance. We begin to see that although the hurt still lingers, we recognize that joy, beauty, and goodness still abounds.

You will not ‘get over' the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to. –Elisabeth Kubler-Ross​

Grit and Grace

This week I'll be using the Sacred India Tarot, a deck and book set created by Rohit Arya with Jane Adams and published by Yogi Impressions. Along with it, I'll be using Theresa Hutch's Land Sky Oracle: A Journey Through Patanjali's 8 Limbs of Yoga, now published by U.S. Games. Today's draws are Death and Brahmacharya:

In order to transition from one phase of life to another, we must be willing to sacrifice our greatest internal attachments whether they are fame, wealth, possessions, power or image.

–Dr. Richard Bellingham

This Death card is illustrated with Yama, a human who became a god because he was unafraid to learn the riddle of death by dying. He was tasked with being the guardian of the resting place of the dead, but he is also known as an impartial judge and a teacher of impermanence. The Mahabharata describes his region as a place where only truth prevails. The companion book states that this card represents a powerful gateway to transformation. With such a stripping away comes an opening of the mind that creates a spacious freedom. Brahmacharya refers to conduct consistent with being on a spiritual path and deals with self-control. It asks us to consider what our intentions are and where we are directing our energy. Brahmacharya's right use of energy encourages us to spend less time on fleeting pleasures and focus on what will bring us peace and happiness.

It seems to me that most of our beginnings require some grit; and most of our endings could use more grace. –Dr. Richard Bellingham

A Universal Experience

From the Tarot of the Enchanted Forest, Black Shuck (Death); from the Mushroom Spirit Oracle, Split Gill:

Black Shuck is a spectral dog-like being with glowing eyes that is the portent of death. A warning by W.A. Dutt in 1901 reads: "You will do well to shut your eyes if you hear him howling; shut them even if you are uncertain whether it is the dog fiend or the voice of the wind you hear." Unfortunately, life doesn't care if you have your eyes shut - loss comes to everyone in a variety of forms. Sometimes it is a small thing like a sentimental figure that is broken; these little griefs are practice for the deeper ones. Split Gill is a mushroom with unique gills which appear to be split lengthwise. When conditions are moist, the slits open and allow spores to fall to the ground, but during dry periods, the gills curve inward, which protects the spore-producing surfaces. It is a fungus that knows how to adapt. Psychologist Mary-Frances O'Connor explains that grieving is a form of adaptive learning for how to be in the world without the thing or person we love. "Grief is a universal experience," she notes, "and when we can connect, it is better." We're all going to need to extend or receive compassion at some point, so let's start practicing now.