When Cries the Heart: Reminder to Release Pain
Yesterday, the universe gifted me with some clear story medicine.
As I shuffled my tarot deck, I asked, "what is coming for me?" You see, I had just finished manifestation journaling (another post on that later), and I was expecting The Lovers . . . or something. Perhaps Four of Cups?
But Spirit had other plans.
When I first saw that fateful Three of Swords, my heart dropped. B-b-b-b-but, the law of attraction! Surely I just hadn't concentrated enough? It turns out though, my pretties, that the tarot rarely lies; some truths are just hard. While this card, at first glance, seemed contradictory to my Very Good Vibes, I soon realized that my dreams were both goals and catalysts.
My Everyday Witch deck shows a red bed, made but not slept in. On it, lies a locked journal next to spilled black ink. A long stone bedside table displays a heart-shaped pillow, the three swords piercing it like a pin cushion. The sky is night and home to a flying blackbird . . . likely, a raven. Oh yeah, and red curtains, too. Judging by how they billow, the wind may have blown over that inkwell.
Until the last few days, I had not realized how much I was intellectualizing my pain. The swords are the suit of intellect, of words, of air. For those like me, we can easily confuse naming and explaining our feelings with honouring them. While this is often part of the process, it is not the whole experience. Lately, I had been putting much more stock into others' words and ideas, whether it was reverence or resentment. I used social media to gauge their thoughts of me --as many of us do --to the point where I was publishing to evoke their value judgements. Words spilled into the private chambers of my heart, leaving stains.
Don't take it to heart, urges Three of Swords.
Sometimes, we need to go inward, get out of the wind that blows us this way and that. Wash the stains from our sheets, or change them. Make our beds soft enough to lie in. It is not always enough just to sit with our feelings; sometimes, we must lie with them. Make love, actually make love for ourselves. When is the last time you told yourself it is okay to feel sorrow, grief, and sadness? When is the last time you let yourself do that, without cursing yourself or others, without trying to find the fastest way out?
Only then can our hearts be homes again. Only then can we truly host guests.
As I shuffled my tarot deck, I asked, "what is coming for me?" You see, I had just finished manifestation journaling (another post on that later), and I was expecting The Lovers . . . or something. Perhaps Four of Cups?
But Spirit had other plans.
When I first saw that fateful Three of Swords, my heart dropped. B-b-b-b-but, the law of attraction! Surely I just hadn't concentrated enough? It turns out though, my pretties, that the tarot rarely lies; some truths are just hard. While this card, at first glance, seemed contradictory to my Very Good Vibes, I soon realized that my dreams were both goals and catalysts.
My Everyday Witch deck shows a red bed, made but not slept in. On it, lies a locked journal next to spilled black ink. A long stone bedside table displays a heart-shaped pillow, the three swords piercing it like a pin cushion. The sky is night and home to a flying blackbird . . . likely, a raven. Oh yeah, and red curtains, too. Judging by how they billow, the wind may have blown over that inkwell.
Until the last few days, I had not realized how much I was intellectualizing my pain. The swords are the suit of intellect, of words, of air. For those like me, we can easily confuse naming and explaining our feelings with honouring them. While this is often part of the process, it is not the whole experience. Lately, I had been putting much more stock into others' words and ideas, whether it was reverence or resentment. I used social media to gauge their thoughts of me --as many of us do --to the point where I was publishing to evoke their value judgements. Words spilled into the private chambers of my heart, leaving stains.
Don't take it to heart, urges Three of Swords.
Sometimes, we need to go inward, get out of the wind that blows us this way and that. Wash the stains from our sheets, or change them. Make our beds soft enough to lie in. It is not always enough just to sit with our feelings; sometimes, we must lie with them. Make love, actually make love for ourselves. When is the last time you told yourself it is okay to feel sorrow, grief, and sadness? When is the last time you let yourself do that, without cursing yourself or others, without trying to find the fastest way out?
Only then can our hearts be homes again. Only then can we truly host guests.
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