Last spring I turned 40 and it was pretty life-changing. The winter before was one of the bleakest periods of my life, as I spent most days stuck on the couch, mourning the loss of my youngest brother to a heroin overdose. I couldn't get out of that funk until I read of the death of a woman I went to college with, and with whom I hadn't been particularly close, but still knew in passing. She died just months shy of her 40th birthday, and reading her blog The Carcinista, I felt her spirit rousing mine to get my arse off the couch and start living.
So forty days before my birthday, I started a program to celebrate myself a little bit each day. It wasn't anything miraculous-some days I'd just treat myself to a red velvet cupcake from my favorite lunch place, or I'd take a little extra time getting ready in the morning. My first purchase to launch the forty day fete de Pixie Girl was a set of new tarot cards. As a ten year anniversary present, Cute Husband proposed we take a summer trip to Ireland, where I'd never been, and I was thrilled to be able finally to connect with my spiritual and familial heritage spot. In that vein, I splurged on The Sacred Circle Tarot: a celtic pagan journey by Anna Franklin and Paul Mason. I can't tell you how thrilled I was to hold these beauties in my hand when they arrived in the mail.
Now, my two favorite witches, Gypsy Girl and Elfin One, and I have been noodling around with our tarot cards for about ten years now. I have not really progressed at all with any particular acuity, but let's just say this might not be an area where I'll ever be particularly gifted. In fact, I always have to use my book when I do a reading. This new set of cards was to replace my Faery Oracle cards by Brian Froud that have been in hiding somewhere in the house since my last move. I've tried to get them to come out from wherever they are, with no luck. So it seemed appropriate to break in some new cards before venturing to the emerald Homeland.
I'm thinking that there were a few things that pulled me out of my funk last spring, and these cards were enormously helpful. For one thing, there's something to be said for sitting in a quiet space, meditating on something beautiful, with the hope that that beautiful thing can wash over you for a bit. What I needed was that piece of Spirit to walk back in through the door and shake me up, even if all that meant was that I hauled myself to grab a cupcake or take a walk somewhere. I began to see that with each day, a little window of clarity would wake up in me, and if you've ever had a good reading, you know that usually Spirit waits for you to be ready for what it wants to tell you. I didn't get any earth shattering messages last spring; I was just reminded to take care of myself.
Recognizing how short life is, both by reading The Carcinista and by thinking of my younger brother, I started to understand that I was just kind of skating through the events of my life. I was so low and out of it that I couldn't really feel the joy in my life, and that completely bummed me out. I wanted to feel reconnected. I just didn't know how to get there. My Celtic cards were like breadcrumbs leading me back to the path home.
Also, my kick ass husband surprised me by arranging for my two best friends and favorite witches to come into town during my birthday weekend. I had Spirit taking care of me on one side, and my three strongest fans doing the same on this side. Talk about blessings. This launched me into a new year, and with that start, pretty amazing things began to happen.
Long story short, I began to get some interesting glimpses of myself, through a more Spirit minded veil that I was paying attention to a lot of things I don't really think matter on a grand scale, but that I was spending too much time on. Once you see the truth, you can't pretend you didn't see it. So it was that I sat down one day last week, cards at the ready, and had a spread for the New Year. And wouldn't you know it, now that I'm strong and revitalized, out popped The Tower. Holy shiz.
Talk about a wake-up call. The Tower has always symbolized (for me) that the way you've been deluding yourself is about to blow up in your face. I sat there in front of my spread, sweating a little bit, and took a moment to talk myself off the ledge. But really, it dawned on me that this wasn't real news to me. I knew that I hadn't been connecting as I want to be with Spirit, that I wasn't creating a space for nature in my life, that my kitchen witch soul was sort of fudging it lately out of business and boredom, and that when it came right down to it, that I was pretending to be someone I'm not.
All this on a quiet Tuesday morning.
This was what it has taken for me to realize that I need to do a better job of keeping it real. It's why I'm now starting to inch my way out of the broom closet, to be a little more open in sharing what I really believe, and for living my beliefs. I'm fairly certain I won't be doing tarot spreads at the neighborhood's next book club, but you never know. I figure if not now, then when?
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