Suspension

I'm not a believer in tarot, but it seems to me that the concepts behind the cards are based on certain character and situational tropes. I won't get into a skeptical discussion of what that might mean for the use of the cards, but the universality of the concepts offer an interesting way of reframing things. At least for someone that's fond of bad analogies.

Lately, I've been very Hanged Man.  On one hand, the Hanged Man symbolizes suspension, passivity, waiting, stasis. These are the things I've had going on–or not going on–this summer. Journal entries have been a broken record of "I'm back!" but I'm not. My task list for this week bears a lot of resemblance to my task list of a month ago. I've stopped keeping track of everything. I haven't wanted to interact with anyone, online or off, because I haven't wanted to take anything in that might change my state. Or let go of anything that might change my state. The problem is, this is an inactive state. A miserable state.

The other side of the Hanged Man is transformation after contemplation and surrender. Flip him over and he's almost dancing a jig, and enlightened to boot.

My grandmother died in May. It sucks that my last memories of her are as a strangely small, strangely yellowed, anguished woman. It sucks. Since then, I've been waiting for the next bad things to happen. And of course, other bad things have happened. My depressive mind can blow up anything into a disruptive state. But I'm tired. I'm tired of being a lump.

A random thing that came my way this week and has disproportionate meaning (for this week anyway), a fortune cookie fortune: "It's time for you to dance in the rain rather than wait for sun."

Filed under: Life