Much too close to water’s fluid embrace
Warm, such that it lingers
Sun dips away
Cool, such that it reaches
Night surfaces to day
Borne by compassion
She anticipates your every need, knowing your thoughts and feelings almost better than you do.
I pushed forward without my guidebook, seeking the reassurance that arrives when I find where I am, let myself solidify that truth and learn to stand there without reassurance or external scaffolding. Usually, I give myself a moment with the cards once I have them in front of me to ask myself what my initial reaction is. This time, I want to see what happens if I trust my intuition enough to let the whole reading go ‘unsupervised.’
Would this be empowering or would I end up frustrated, reaching for the little booklet with descriptions of each card to give myself the secure sense of clarity?
Am I going to feel as if I am inventing my responses and ignore some truth I would only allow myself to face with the seemingly absolute given interpretation?
I lay down one, two, three spreads.
The Queen of Cups keeps finding me-- reversed, paired with The Fountain at the center of the sequence of cards splashed across my bedroom floor in the summer evening’s half-light; reversed, the first card in the configuration; upright, at the end of what I immediately know will be the final reading I need for the set of abstract and verbalised queries brought with me to this practice.
A striking power seeps through me as I recognize The Queen of Cups again and again. In her presence, I lose any desire to know the book’s interpretation of what I see before me. This card lays a different kind of foundation into which my intuition plants itself. From that tether-point, I feel the rest of the readings’ meanings rise to meet me.
I name the series of spreads “a cosmic bone-crack” as I manifest a return to a groundedness I did not know I had abandoned in this month’s quick adoption of insanity. The Queen of Cups presents herself not only as the foundation but also the thread which ties together visages to cover what has happened, what is happening, and what will happen.
The journal where I record my free flowing thoughts about the reading to add to later reflection quickly fills.
She has experienced many things; she knows the pain that escorts love and the failure that
As I work on this column, the notification bar on my phone lights up with a succession of messages from my “IRL Sage Stick”. A week has passed since my first unassisted reading, and I am still piecing through the questions I asked and considered in relation to it.
“Didn’t Strength come up in your tarot?” Her most recent message reads in response to a decision I had been mulling over all day and realising I had to make the hard choice in service of my own mental and physical health.
“It did.” The two words pop onto the screen, surrounded by blue pixels. I sigh, and the world shifts back into a manageable rhythm. I receive four other similar text messages within the same hour. External permission to listen to the permission I had tentatively given myself.
My sight returns and panic flushes out through my feet.
The Queen of Cups knows your depth and what you are capable of and more importantly, she
believes in you, encouraging your greatness and holding your dreams safely and eternally in her heart.
I am proud of a certain level of independence I have developed this summer--an extended version of the pride I felt in navigating a reading without wanting or needing support and external validation. Sometimes it takes special people to remind you where you’re standing. Especially during this wild Retrograde (counting down the days until August 2, you guys!). And there is never a wrong time to remember to hold your people close, drink lots of coffee, breathe in all the air and wonder how far all the raindrops had to fall to find the ground and read the version of the story where Pandora releases Hope, too.