There's a Distinction

This week I'll be using the Ferret Tarot, created and self-published by Elaine Moertl. Along with it, I'll be drawing from Nature's Wisdom Oracle, created by Mindy Lighthipe and published by Schiffer Books. The cards for today are the Three of Swords and Coyote:

We must rediscover the distinction between hope and expectation.

―Ivan Illich

I read a monostich poem by Rafiq Kathwari this morning that illustrates the pain of the Three of Swords: "As I fling my arms wide, he extends his hand." As Illich's quote implies, we often set ourselves up for disappointment. Having hope is understanding that the outcome is a possibility (even if only a slim chance); it's not a sure thing. Expectation is a one-sided mental contract that we demand be delivered. And what happens when that doesn't occur? We think of ourselves as a victim, in anguish due to another's cruelty. We never consider that what we expected was never agreed to by the other person. Coyote is associated with adaptability because no matter how its environment has changed, it has managed to adapt to it. Coyote encourages us to live lightly - without taking everything personally and seeing from a self-centered perspective. We can have more joy untainted by resentment by doing so. 

No Ladders

From the PetraK Tarot, the Three of Swords; from the Astrodice, Jupiter in Pisces, 4th House:

No matter how bad things are, you can always make things worse.

― Randy Pausch

The Sword suit is double-edged, both a gift and a whammy with its honesty and clarity. Just as we're skipping through life, blissfully unaware of things, a sword gets driven into the ground in front of us. We are forced to wake up to reality, no matter how painful. After several years of disciplined exercise, healthy eating, prescribed supplements and infusions for osteoporosis, my latest tests showed no improvement but a decline. The radiologist said I've got a 50% chance of a hip fracture. I was not prepared for that bit of reality. The Astrodice roll suggests I let compassion and my spiritual path expand my perception instead of panicking. I obviously have some little quirk that is resisting treatment. I am working closely with my doctor, who has ordered some unusual tests (all the usual ones are fine) to see if the cause can be uncovered. She has said there are also injections that might be an option. I have done what I can and will put my fear and disappointment on the shelf as I wait for results and her recommendations. I do not want to squander what is good with worry, but I will not be climbing ladders for a while!

Learning to Use Our Hurt

From the Wheel of Change Tarot, the Three of Swords; from the Oracle of the Dreamtime, Barramundi:

Strength is not the absence of hurt. It is the refusal to let hurt set the terms of who we become.

—Rabbi Yonatan Hambourger

The Three of Swords indicates a painful realization and the loss of an illusion. There are some relationships that just can't be put back together as they were before when truth is revealed. But what do we do with our pain?  Psychologists Richard Tedeschi and Lawrence Calhoun have studied what they call post-traumatic growth - a conscious shift from being a victim to being a student of our experiences. This process does not delete our pain but helps us use it to extract life lessons and gain emotional resilience rather than remaining stuck. The Dreamtime story of Barramundi tells the story between two young lovers who long to be together, however the young woman was already promised to an older man in an arranged marriage. Rather than accept that fate, the lovers jumped into the sea and became fish. Traditional ideas and romantic dreams must often be sacrificed if we want an authentic, fulfilling life. 

Heart Transitions

From the Tarot of the Sidhe, the Three of Dreamers (Swords); from the Green Man Tree Oracle, Hawthorn (Huath):

Grief is love with nowhere to go. —Jamie Anderson

What was once whole is now broken, leaving a feeling of emptiness. I've been watching reruns of "The Closer" lately, and yesterday I watched the episode when Brenda Leigh discovers her mother had died. I don't know who cried harder, the actress or me. Willie Mae (her mother) is so much like my own mom in age and personality. It was a stark reminder and made me wonder if I'm losing more friends and family than gaining these days. Hawthorn, in ancient Irish belief, was associated with the fairy folk who inhabited liminal places. Lone trees at crossroads, boundaries, or holy wells marked transitional entrances. Hawthorn invites us, after we've processed some of our grief, to let it open our heart rather than armor it. Sorrow can help us understand and empathize with others who've been thrown into those depths, kindling a wish to ease their pain. As Charles Dickens wrote, "I was better after I had cried, than before - more sorry, more aware of my own ingratitude, more gentle."

Once Upon a Time

From the Morgan Greer Tarot, the Three of Swords; from the Celtic Book of the Dead, the Ever-living Lady:

Sandwiched between their “once upon a time” and “happily ever after,” they all had to experience great adversity. ―Dieter F. Uchtdorf

The LWB of the Morgan Greer describes this card's meaning as "a person who ruthlessly prioritizes power over humanity." It suggests people who "care" for others as long as they're useful to them. But healthy people develop and change; they can't help but grow out of the mold they were in (no matter how inconvenient for another). The Ever-living Lady appeared to the seafarers and told them to voyage to the Isle of Women in the Otherworld. Her message to us is not to get upset when our goals don't follow a straight line. In the realm of relationships, we sometimes take many exit ramps, yet we learn resilience and discernment along the way.  

Options of the Heart

From the Cosmic Tarot, the Three of Swords; from the L'Oeil de Lotus, Woman:

How can we deal with suffering? There are three options we can choose: we can suppress our feelings, we can feel them, or we can grow from them. 

—Robert Puff

A rose, a symbol of the receptive soul, has been stabbed with three swords. The people looking on have closed down their suffering by shutting out the part of their world that caused the hurt. There is a bit of Buddhist wisdom that says, "There is an injury behind every fault or shortcoming." In other words, freezing a part of our heart in order not to feel or deal with what hurts only hurt us - shrinking our world as we slowly become cold, uncaring people. The feminine energy of Woman reminds us that there is a healthier way - open to our pain, let our heart feel it, and allow it to help us grow into a stronger, more complete person. 

Roly-Poly Position

From the Somnia Tarot, the Three of Swords; from the Spirits of Nature Oracle, Rice:

I know it hurts, but the sadness is your friend.

—Katie Hawkins-Gaar

I have drawn the Three of Swords often this year; it's hard not to be heartsick as the Trump regime's wrecking ball destroys our nation. Almost everyone has been personally affected in some way (unless you're a billionaire). Yet as Tom Edwards reminds us, "we are grieving and, in our grief, have become increasingly isolated and disconnected from one another." Anguish is normal, but staying in a roly-poly posture will not be useful. Symon Freck explains: "This grief we carry should not paralyze us but mobilize us. Our shock and anger are signals of our values. If we grieve because we care, then we must also care enough to push back and forage a healthier life for future generations." Rice symbolizes nourishment and encourages us to find time to fill ourselves with beauty, laughter, dance or song - whatever will fill us with joy so that we in turn can reach out to others and help them find their own. When our spirits are full, we have the inner strength to withstand and stand up to what is ahead.

A Tale as Old as Time

This week I'll be using the Greenwood Tarot, created by Chesca Potter and published by Thorsons. The oracle I'll be using is the Rune Cards, created by Tony Linsell and Brian Partridge and published by Anglo-Saxon Books. Today's draws are the Three of Arrows (Swords) and Water (Laguz):

One who is fed on promises eats from an empty bowl.

―Marsha Hinds

It's a tale as old as time, as the saying goes. We find a group, a job, or a person that we think will care for us as we care for them, who will have our backs as we have theirs. Then that tapestry of trust begins to unravel as we discover confidences were not kept, promises were broken, and the relationship not honored. It's easy to spot the red flags in hindsight, but how do we move on when we carry that kind of hurt? Water's (Laguz) rune poem emphasizes this feeling of uncertainty:

Water to men seems everlasting when they must venture on an unsteady ship,

and waves scare them very much; the brine stallion heeds not the bridle.

We can't control our relationships any more than we can control the sea, yet we can learn from our pain. As Sara Al Madani said, "Stay open. Stay soft. Stay wise. Protect your peace, but don't punish the world for what one person broke."

Clarify before Declaring

From the Prisma Visions Tarot, the Three of Swords; from the Secret Language of Color Cards, Indigo:

If you don't know, it's not always necessary to admit it.

―Malcolm Forbes

There’s no shame in admitting what you don’t know. The only shame is pretending you know all the answers.

―Neil deGrasse Tyson

Knee-jerk assumptions can spread unverified beliefs as facts, prejudicing information that may hurt others. We got a call this weekend that the youngest of our grown sons had been taken to the hospital by ambulance after he collapsed and was unresponsive at his gym. The EMTs used Narcon, which revived him, so they called it in as an overdose. The ER doctors intubated him and put him in the Critical Care Unit. Only after a lot of tests and gathering information from the family over the course of several days did they realize this was not that. He had been taking a low dose opioid for a knee injury, which is why he responded to the Narcon. But he had been found in the gym's sauna and had a tumor on his adrenal gland; the intense heat and out of whack gland were the cause of his collapse. The "overdose" label had been a weighty one for the family to bear. Indigo, a deep purple-violet color, suggests we improve our vision. Before making any declarations, we need to ask clarifying questions and check the factual evidence. Ignore Forbes and listen to Tyson. 

From the Tarot of the Masters, the Three of Swords; from the Key to the Kingdom, the Ace of Hearts:

For what it's worth, I can finally see

That I'm a little bit hurt but a lot more free

—Max McNown

The dead seagulls on this card emphasize the death of our trust placed in another. It is a difficult truth to accept when we realize those we placed our confidence and faith in have betrayed us. Our minds may become a whirlpool of anger or self-pity, as we deal with that grief. Yet if we are able to see the situation from a wider perspective, we might eventually agree with McNown - we're a little hurt but a lot more free. The Ace of Hearts reflects how fleeting beauty and life are:

I'm a little butterfly

Born in a bower, 

Christened in a teapot,

Died in half an hour.

Each night our days on this earth are reduced by one. How do we want to spend the moments we have left? As John F. Kennedy said, "We must use time as a tool, not as a couch." 

Pincushion

From the Shadowlands Tarot, the Three of Swords; from the Brownie Wisdom deck, "Small deeds:"

If someone comes along and shoots an arrow into your heart, it’s fruitless to stand there and yell at the person. It would be much better to turn your attention to the fact that there’s an arrow in your heart...

― Pema Chödrön

We've all been a pincushion at times - the object of constant criticism or unkind barbs. No matter how cool we try to look on the outside, it still hurts. If we retaliate instead of taking care of our wounded heart, then all we've done is create two people in pain. When that victorious feeling of getting in a jab at another person fizzles, we're left to ruminate on our own hurt. The Brownie card encourages us to flip the script, to do some small, good deeds for others instead or perpetuating pain. Then we'll create two people filled with joy. 

Not a Hitching Post

From the Buckland Romani Tarot, the Three of Chivs (Swords); from the Lakota Sweat Lodge Cards, Unk (Passion and Satisfaction):

The past is a guidepost, not a hitching post.

—L. Thomas Holdcroft

In the Buddhist Wheel of Life, the hell realm is both fiery hot and icy cold. Psychologically, the hot part includes rage and desire for revenge, while the freezing part contains the protective armor we put on to protect ourselves from further hurt. Unfortunately, this armor also blocks our ability to be kind, tender and compassionate. Betrayal is painful and we need to grieve it, but it is meant to act as a rearview mirror, not our headlights. Mother Earth supplied humans with Unk - passion and the satisfaction that comes from it. A heart burnt to a crisp from anger or frozen from disconnection will never find satisfaction because it exists only the past, which cannot be changed. 

Just a Sham

From the Tarot of the Masters, the Three of Swords; from the Key to the Kingdom, the Jack of Clubs:

Let them believe that they're loved and wanted and then show them that it's all a sham.

― Agatha Christie

Ricklef's sketch is based on Gustave Courbet's Girl with Seagulls. Used as the Three of Swords, it reminds me of the baiting used to hunt game and birds. The animals see it as an offering of food and end up paying for their trust with their lives. How do we know if people are trustworthy and won't betray our love or friendship? We watch rather than just listen. Do they omit or exaggerate important details? Do they follow up on promises in a timely manner? Do they keep confidences? As Terry Goodkind wrote, "Only those you trust can betray you." The Jack of Clubs is paired with a poem based on Shakespeare's play that ends with: "On Midsummer's eve take you dreams to bed, let you wake a fool with a donkey's head." Sometimes our desires and longings override our common sense. In this case, "sleep on it" might not be a bad idea.

Everyday Reality

From the Tarot of Durer, the Three of Swords; from the Philosopher's Stone, Skill:

Trust takes time to develop but can be destroyed in a moment. Our connections to others make us feel secure and accepted, but when severed can create a mental or emotional crisis. We tend to be sensitive about our ideas, opinions and sense of self; a joke at our expense, a dig at our viewpoints or a snarky comment about about anything we identify with can feel like a betrayal. Yet Skill hints at the ability to use our mind to cultivate clarity and wisdom, seeing what's beneath our reactions (rather than focusing on what someone else said). We may realize that we all want similar things (joy, companionship, etc.), but we all have different ways of getting there. Rather than accepting any abuse heaped on us, we can simply choose not to hate the other or be swamped by self-pity.

Happiness is not simply the abundance of pleasure in the absence of pain. Rather, it is to remain confident and optimistic in the face of everyday reality.

–Tricycle editors

Wisdom Blisters

This week I'll be using the Tarot of the Abyss, created by Ana Tourian and published by U.S. Games. I've paired with it the Nature Mandala Meditation Cards, created and self-published by Michelle Wallace. Today's draws are the Three of Swords and Remember:

Ignorance is bliss. Wisdom is blisters.

― Brian Spellman

Tourian's Three of Swords doesn't represent the heartache of betrayal, but the what happens when ignorance is replaced by insight. What was originally denied or avoided has now become an unveiled truth, one that can't be resealed in the bottle. Though we lost our beautiful illusions, now we can at least respond intelligently to reality as needed. This is what the Remember card suggests; insights must extend further than knowledge - they must also be applied. As Carlos Wallace explained, "shutting out your problems does not dismiss them. Ignorance is not bliss. On the contrary, it creates an opportunity for those problems to grow."

How We Grieve

From the Sasuraibito Tarot, the Three of Swords; from the SoulCards, Spiraling:

As we tell the story of what has happened, it becomes not so much the story of what has actually occurred as the story of our pain and our fear. —Norman Fischer

We've all experienced the heartache that comes with deception, but how we grieve can make a big difference in our emotional and mental health. The Spiraling card depicts those moments when we spend all of our time cursing or accusing those we hold responsible for our pain. We are so caught up in our anguish and wish for retaliation that we see no other possibilities other than the hell we reside in. In fact, we become so tightly coiled around our suffering that we don't see much of anything else. The young girl in this card, gazing at her heart with compassion, has figured out that the way through the hurt is self-care rather than allegations and self-pity. 

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

The Best Revenge

From the Tarot of the Masters, the Three of Swords; from the Key to the Kingdom, the Jack of Clubs:

The three dead birds in this Three of Swords reminds me of folks who see lovers not as a person but simply as conquests. For unattached people looking for love, charm can be hard to ignore when they are desperate and being paid some attention. Even if they've heard stories about the charmer, they may believe they can be 'the one.' When that turns into a notch on someone's belt or handbag, it can be easy to want revenge. Yet the Jack of Clubs is given a verse that might make us pause:

Jackass in the box,

Turn the key and up he pops;

On Midsummer's Eve

Take your dreams to bed,

Lest you wake a fool

With a donkey's head.

In the words of George Herbert, "Living well is the best revenge."

Dewdrop World

From the Tarot of Pagan Cats, the Three of Swords; from the Brownie Wisdom deck, The Sacrifice:

This dewdrop world

Is but a dewdrop world. And yet, and yet—

~Kobayashi Issa

Issa was a Japanese poet whose life was marked by tragedy, including the death of his wife and three children. His poem expresses the understanding that life is by nature impermanent, yet humans will still grieve when what we love is lost. In our transient world, love is a sweetness mixed with the sharpness of sorrow. However, we have two antidotes to help us heal: equanimity and compassion. Yet as the Brownie points out, it will require a sacrifice - in this case, of self-absorption. Equanimity is a balance born of wisdom, a tender understanding that our loss is not abnormal in our world. Compassion is being willing to sit with the suffering of others with a desire to bring them comfort. It helps us recognize that this deep grief is experienced by all beings.

Bruised Places

From the Albano-Waite Tarot, the Three of Swords; from the Rumi Cards, 'Fall Into:'

We all have tender or bruised places on our heart, places that when jabbed send us into a tailspin of deep grief or despair. The yellow on this card looks washed out compared to the bright yellow of the Fool's card drawn yesterday. Awareness of anything other than our pain gets dimmed; the rational side of the intellect is pushed aside. We may have a choice where to place our attention, but our pain will insist that we keep it there. The Rumi quote 'Fall into' suggests that we realize that human love is imperfect and fluctuating, no matter how strong it might be. Yet we treat it like a breeze we've opened our door to, thinking it will stay inside with us forever without changing. The poet Aeschylus wrote, "There is no pain so great as the memory of joy in present grief. Happiness is a choice that requires effort at times." We can't go back, we can only move forward, even if that movement is excruciatingly slow.