Lean Forward

From the New Liminal Tarot, the Ace of Wands; from the State by State Cards, Utah (Seven of Hearts):

Lean forward into your life. Begin each day as if it were on purpose. 

–Mary Anne Radmacher

Salamanders like damp, dark places, so they often hide in log piles used for firewood. Because they scamper out when a fire is lit, people in older times thought they were born from fire (thus their association with this element). Though their fiery birth is a myth, the salamander's quick exit is an apt symbol for our movement when we're inspired to create or do something. Utah is known for its National Park of Arches, formed from sandstone by weathering and erosion. Over time, the same forces that created these arches will continue to widen them until they collapse. Likewise, the energy and enthusiasm from inspiration will also fade. As Bruce Garrabrandt cautioned, “Creativity doesn’t wait for that perfect moment. It fashions its own perfect moments out of ordinary ones.”

Seed Sowing

From the Tarot of the Masters, the Ace of Coins; from the Key to the Kingdom, the Seven of Hearts:

Ricklef's illustration for this Ace is based on the "The Sower," a painting created by Jean-François Millet. Millet was from a rural farming family and thought the peasant class to be noble (his detractors thrashed him for displaying such social views). This card suggests we take advantage of our opportunities, sowing our seeds and nurturing them. Yet the poem about Cock Robin assigned to the Seven of Hearts cautions us that we must do the work without expectation. Some of the seeds we sow may flourish, and others will fail. But nothing will grow if we don't make the effort to plant them first.

Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by the seeds that you plant.

― Robert Louis Stevenson

Inner Responsibility

This week I'll be using the Cosmic Cycles Tarot, co-created and self-published by Martina Razo (author) and Miriam E.G. (illustrator). Paired with it will be Stasia Burrington's self-published deck, Magic Neko. Today's draws are the Wheel of Fortune and the Seven of Hearts:

When we understand that karma is based on volition, we can see the enormous responsibility we have to become conscious of the intentions that precede our actions.

—Joseph Goldstein

          Karma is neutral like gravity; both Hitler and Gandhi could walk off a ten-story building and they'd both go splat when they hit the ground. Humans, of course, judge karma to be good or bad based on the fall-out from their actions. They don't realize that their intentions create a response, which may be skillful or unskillful, and that response will trigger a reaction or consequence. This young girl has won some tickets that she thinks will change her fate. Sorry chickadee, but you'd be better off looking at your habitual patterns and making some different choices if you want something more than a temporary fix. The Seven of Hearts is associated with open-heartedness, a needed quality to embrace when we actually see how our pattern of choices has created much of our reality. There is no need for self-pity or self-flagellation, but self-compassion would be of benefit. The seed of happiness grows within us, and it can be nurtured each moment regardless of whatever else is happening.

Unwise Investments

From the Tarot of the Masters, the Ten of Swords; from the Key to the Kingdom, the 'Seven of Hearts:'

We often think we do a pretty good job of trying to explain just how things are—until we actually experience the thing we’re trying to explain. Then we realize our words and ideas are like trying to grab a single drop of rain in a thunderstorm.

—Ed Brickell

          It's easy to get heavily invested in our ideas and beliefs. When we begin identifying them as who we are, we fall under the delusion that they are the ultimate truth. We don't realize that these intellectual constructs are merely personal viewpoints heavily influenced by our upbringing and memories of past experiences. Perhaps there is a grain of truth in them, but it is just one raindrop out of the whole thunderstorm. Ricklef's redrawing of The Death of Caesar illustrates the point when we realize we don't know everything (which most people would agree with, yet we all seem to have an opinion about everything anyway). The Seven of Hearts illustrates the death of Cock Robin from the nursery rhyme. The 'cock' part tells us there was a bit of strutting and crowing with this particular bird. Yet our cocky views can be disowned if we have a friend willing to point them out with respect and kindness. They can be (as in the nursery rhyme) the 'sparrow' that kills the cock (the confidence placed in them through ignorance).

If you really want to become skillful in your thoughts, words, and deeds, you need a trustworthy friend to point out your blind spots.

—Thanissaro Bhikkhu

Be the Tortoise, Not the Hare

From the Tarot of the Masters, the Knight of Pentacles; from the Key to the Kingdom, the "Seven of Hearts:"

          As I sit with an ice pack on my back, I'm looking out the window at the bright green foliage in the yard. The thought crossed my mind that maybe I could do something outside today... But then the least impulsive of the knights showed up to suggest that cautiousness is the better way. If I want my body to heal, I've got to take things slow and not be in such a rush. The plants won't pull up roots and run off without me to tend them. As if to further make a point, the murdered Cock Robin makes an appearance. The Seven of Hearts reminds me of the Seven of Cups; the choices I make now will have consequences later. I suppose I worry that when the intense heat of summer arrives, I won't have the enthusiasm I do now for yard work. But if I don't take care of my body, it won't make a difference either way.

Edited to add some photos to appease my inner gardener:

Native red honeysuckle, potted ferns and flowers under dogwood, mondo grass around laceleaf Japanese maple, bark pathway, bird corner, sycamore tree with hydrangeas underneath.