This morning page is forming in the cocoon of the great windowed room, of the green chair, the purple couch, the sleeping dogs and slow risings of dear visiting sister-friends, their twin drums against the wall, and my husband risen early to greet his busy day. Crows cackle in the pine trees, my body has unstiffened in a warm shower, the coffee is good enough.
We pull Motherpeace© Tarot Cards to center a bit of writing and conversation. Yep. It’s something we do/I do some days when I’m not sure where to focus my thoughts or guide my own intentions.The six of cups. Six women are rising on a cresting wave, cups like lanterns held aloft. As always, I have no memory of the deeper significance of cups –or sixes (although there’s a symmetry to the number, a sort of balance there, and in this image, a feeling of vanguard, of promise of safe landing with the sun at their backs, and sturdy horses underneath). I choose to see this card as a sign of rising, empowerment, of riding the wave. Which, aren’t we now?
Whether the riders on the high crest of the wave stand the chance of bowling over those who find themselves lower in the upswell might signify something to be wary of in this moment is unclear, I ask myself what I should be paying attention to this season. The cautious me pays attention to both the crest and the upswell, knowing full well from experience that trying to catch a wave too soon, might mean you’ll simply be washed over by big waters, smashed down and tumbled by the boulder wave. Catching it in time, can mean a thrilling ride to the shoreline, a sleek, streamlined landing.
I have lots of questions at the moment about what shoreline I’m hoping to reach or whether there’s a shoreline in sight at all in the ocean of upheaval we’re all swimming in. Riding waves takes effort. There are rip tides and deep swells. Going back again and again to catch the perfect wave is an awesome metaphor for a rat race I’ve long ago left behind. Knowing the ins and outs of floating or fighting the currents is an acquired skill. Still, I’m a sucker for fun for fun’s sake, and riding in to shore for a rest at the end of the day. I could use some of that!
After many years now of circling with women in service to our stories, the empowerment, the waves, the troughs, the sometimes still waters of the journey to find and speak our stories….and on the cusp of the cultural zeitgeist of so many of us telling things that disturb the waters of patriarchy, I’m also old enough and tired enough to suspect that this current fierceness can and may very well be met with some of the worst of the destructive powers of men. The universe is shaking, if you haven’t noticed. So I gird my loins a bit in anticipation of the boulder waves that might be coming our way.
AND…we are Brave AND Brokenhearted (read it here) Women I know who move in waves to change what is…have seen the sun shining, the waves rise and crash. And still, as Brene Brown says, we rise. And rise again. It’s part of the pattern. I’m at peace with that.
Beth Lodge-Rigal
muse
December 13, 2017 6:56 pmRiding waves takes effort. There are rip tides and deep swells…. Knowing the ins and outs of floating or fighting the currents is an acquired skill. MKP