Mudita

From the Deirdre of Sorrows Tarot, the Eight of Coins; from the Victorian Flower Oracle, Scabious and Marigold:

Practice puts brains in your muscles. ~Sam Snead

          O'Donoghue calls the Eight of Coins the apprentice card, and here students exercise their individual talents. I'm sure some of them are hoping to get athletic, scholastic or musical scholarships. Pincushion flowers and Marigold suggest compassion and sympathy for things not turning out as planned. If we are the fortunate ones, can we pause our celebration long enough to lend some words of encouragement for those who weren't? And if we weren't the ones blessed with favorable results, can we attempt to cultivate appreciative joy - gratitude for what we do have and delight for those who have found good fortune? It is a soothing antidote that frees us from comparison and envy.

Green tea leaves swirling

Warmth soothes arthritic fingers

Simple gratitude.

~Deb Wright

Luck or Attention?

From the Deirdre of Sorrows Tarot, the Ace of Cups; from the Victorian Flower Oracle, , Tuberose and Daffodil:

A lot of what we ascribe to luck is not luck at all. It's seizing the day and accepting responsibility for your future. It's seeing what other people don't see and pursuing that vision. 

~Howard Schultz

          The horseshoe in this Ace of Cups made me chuckle. Are the relationships we find a matter of being lucky in love or simply paying attention and following through? My money is on the latter. The warm affection and sincere devotion we have for others isn't based on what another can give us. Love is an offering that flows both ways. Tuberose, known for its use in perfume, and Daffodil, known for its showy spring blooms, are very different plants. But it appears this relationship is based on seeing the best in each other rather than being just alike. And, I would imagine, such a supportive relationship gives the other the confidence to grow into something even better. 

Come live in my heart, and pay no rent.

~Samuel Lover

Care-taking Commitment

From Deirdre of the Sorrows Tarot, the Ace of Coins; from the Victorian Flower Oracle, Hawthorn:

Care-taking is the utmost spiritual and physical responsibility of our time, and perhaps that stewardship is finally our place in the web of life, our work, the solution to the mystery that we are.

― Linda Hogan

          A different kind of cupid is engraved on this coin - one waiting to bless the efforts taken to plant seeds. Too often, humans rarely think of our resources unless we want something or find that they are in limited supply. Hawthorn suggests a cutting back or a sacrifice needed for well-being. It might be a need to take better care of our resources, whether it is our bodies, our finances or the earth itself. Perhaps it involves paying attention and taking action rather than getting distracted with the next pleasure we seek. Good health requires a commitment.

Adjusting Our Sails

This week I'll be using the Deirdre of the Sorrows Tarot, a self-published set created by Deirdre O'Donoghue and illustrated by Wayne McGuire. Along with it, I'll be drawing from the Victorian Flower Oracle, created by Alex Ukolov, Karen Mahony and Sheila Hamilton; it was published by Magic Realist Press. Today's draws are the Wheel of Fortune and Tulip:

The pessimist complains about the wind; the optimist expects it to change; the realist adjusts the sails. ~William Arthur Ward

          Watched over by Anubis, the jackal-headed Egyptian god, a blindfolded woman turns the wheel of life. While humans can create change, much of what occurs in our lives is pure happenstance. We may be in the right place at the right time or vice versa. But the treasure to be found in a world of impermanence is the ability to adjust to change - without clinging to what we like or wailing at what we don't but rather accepting and dealing with it. Tulip suggests that there will be a turning toward prosperity or well-being, a welcome respite for the weary. But perhaps the words of Og Mandino should be taken to heart: "I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars." Wisdom and compassion are those stars.

What You Wanted

From the Scrying Poetry Tarot, the Nine of Cups; from the Tapestry Oracle, Adaptation:

But the price of getting what you want, is getting what you once wanted.

― Neil Gaiman

           Gaiman's quote points out the problem with the 'wish card' - the happiness first enjoyed is very fleeting. Whether it's acknowledgment and praise received or material things acquired, the pleasure begins to fade once obtained. As Victoria's verse implies, happiness is an inside job; it is found in the present rather than yearning for it to arrive in the future. Though most of the outside stuff is largely out of our control, our inside attitude is not. Adaptation suggests that we stretch and become more flexible in how we define our happiness. Surely it can encompass more than the way we usually narrowly define it. 

Kind but Tough

From the Scrying Poetry Tarot, the King of Cups; from the Tapestry Oracle, Journey:

Human kindness has never weakened the stamina or softened the fiber of a free people. A nation does not have to be cruel to be tough. – Franklin D. Roosevelt

          Victoria insists in her haiku that the King of Cups can be kind as well as tough. Compassion doesn't mean we don't hold people accountable for their actions; forgiveness doesn't mean people get a pass for their behavior. Yet as the Journey card shows, walking between passiveness and aggression isn't easy. Anger or hurt usually triggers a desire to escalate or escape. The horse in the waves is a key, suggesting a need for self-care. No one can go without refilling their own cup. As the Dalai Lama encouraged, "if you feel demoralized and exhausted, it is best, for the sake of everyone, to withdraw and restore yourself."

Cloudy Boy, a furry bodhisattva

2005-2021

Wild Comfort

From the Scrying Poetry Tarot, the Five of Cups; from the Tapestry Oracle, Pause:

Even when it seems that all is lost, all is not lost.

~James Ricklef

          When there is loss, the grieving mind and heart grasp and cling to what has gone. It's as if we want to keep that person or thing suspended in time so that we can believe that things have not changed. Our focus is laser-like, pushing everything else away. If we are unable to begin to gradually accept that our loss is part of the natural flow of life, even though heart-wrenching, we can become stuck in an eddy of anguish. We fail to see any beauty, joy, or kindness around us. The Pause card suggests we allow our hearts and mind to rest, allowing them to recalibrate and reset. Rarely does sleep actually help for me in such cases, but Nature is a great therapist. Whether walking or pulling weeds, it reminds me that while there is loss, there is promise of a better day too.

The bottom may drop out of my life, what I trusted may fall away completely, leaving me astonished and shaken. But still, sticky leaves emerge from bud scales that curl off the tree as the sun crosses the sky. Darkness pools and drains away, and the curve of the new moon points to the place the sun will rise again. There is wild comfort in the cycles and the intersecting circles, the rotations and revolutions, the growing and ebbing of this beautiful and strangely trustworthy world. ~ Kathleen Dean Moore