a diary of words, paper and other ephemeral things
I’m not going to lie, when I pulled the three of cups it felt like a slap in the face. ESPECIALLY because I just finished week 3 of The Artist’s Way and struggled with this week. Ya’ll, I don’t have a lot of friends. Like IRL, call at the drop of a hat type friends. The card shows friends celebrating together. And I haven’t cheers like the people in the image since I was still chugging beers and taking shots of Everclear.
In week 3 of the Artist’s Way, Julia Cameron talks about Reclaiming Your Power, and one of the tasks was reaching out to a friend who makes you feel amazing and is fun to be around. It’s not that I don’t have friends like that — many don’t live near by and we’re all so busy that a random call like that may cause alarm.
Since getting sober, I’ve kept my circle small. Celebrations are often with me, my husband and the kids. Sometimes we invite extended family along for certain things (such as the kids birthdays). I receive support in spirit from folks. Family is sparse and everyone is busy with their own lives. My creative work, which is usually my main focus outside of running the house, is just…not a priority.
This card makes me realize that perhaps people don’t take it seriously because I don’t. And that hurts. I’ve sort of stumbled my way along the path to where I am now. It seems I am collecting all of my breadcrumbs and trying to put together a career. And…well, I’m a bit embarrassed about it.
And I don’t know why. But I like to envision myself in this card.
Or perhaps gathered at a table, surrounded by good friends. We hold space for our happy moments, and hold each other during moments that leave us wrung out, distraught. Children run freely through the home, all playing together…talking about whose house to stay the night at this week where they can build forts and tell ghost stories. And we can all trust that our loved ones are cared for together because we are kin. It’s a place I have in my mind, with people who’s faces I can’t quite see…and I don’t quite know how to cross the chasm and find myself building relationships with people again.
So, I did the other exercises for Week 3, and will move on to Week 4 (video incoming, looking for the time/space to film). I will spend a week walking with the three of cups and learning to be more open. I did go to the gym for the first time in years today. My whole body was hesitant, but it feels vital to start caring for my body. That is a relationship that deserves to be tended as well.
While meditating on this card today, I finished a painting. It’s quite the colorful watercolor painting, and sort of an abstract floral. It felt good to fall into flow with water and pigment and just move.
Fun story, when you scan in work with neon watercolor — the color is all wonky. Look at the difference.
The flower feels reminiscent of the card, a collection of color and particles all coming together. The flower pushes out of the seed and up through the earth, searching for sunlight. It is held by all of the little pieces of the puzzle that fall into place before, during, after. This makes me think of those we may rely on. Nature as community, celebrating each other through the act of life, death, rebirth. Another representation of the three chalices held by three people.
For now, I will walk with this card and attempt to keep my heart open. I will use my headphones less. I will try to make small talk more. And I will always remember that we all start somewhere…right?
This project is a weekly walk with an individual tarot card. I will analyze the card. I will connect it with personal anecdotes. I will make art that is representative of the card, at least to me. I will try to embody the spirit of the card (or allow its’ spirit to embody me). I will look at the days of that week to see how the chosen card shows up in my life. It will be a practice of getting to know myself, becoming more intimate with the tarot, and coming back into my life. Tune in for status reports daily-ish here, or get the full week’s work in a delivered newsletter on Substack at https://starmoth.substack.com/. It has become clear to me that part of this ongoing documentation process will be a podcast. I am unsure if I should do this weekly, bi-weekly, or monthly. If you have a preference (I know there’s a lot of available content out there) please let me know in the comments. As always, I appreciate your time.
One of my core values as a person who is in recovery is that every person is worthy of redemption. I spent a LONG TIME hating myself. I still struggle with this. Negative self-talk still tries to claw its way into my life. On rough days, some of its tendrils may succeed. It is important for me to remember that I am good. I am worthy of love. I am worthy of redemption.
And who am I? I am a person who has made mistakes. I have failed, and hurt people, and have regrets. I have believed things with my whole chest before grace was granted in the form of someone teaching me a different way.
I have learned through recovery that life does not exist within a binary. Most of my life I saw the world this way. My brain didn’t develop the emotional capacity to see the world in shades of grey. This is why self-work is so important. This is why observing our life, and reflection, are so important.
As I near the end of my first week of this project where I have walked with the Strength Card, I come back to this core value. It is not my place to tell others how to feel. It is not my place to police the world. It is my place to ensure I show up aligned with my values. It is understanding that I come from a place of knowing it’s not my place to pass judgement on anyone. It is sitting with the discomfort of disagreeing with people closest to me. It is keeping my eyes open to what is happening in the world. My responsibility is to not check out.
Another habit I am observing within myself is the way I squirm and shrink to try and avoid discomfort. At some point, my brain had it in my head that pain and discomfort would be avoided at all costs. That is not life. That is not existence. Resistance to what is happening has brought me a lot of pain and suffering. I open my hands and let it go. I soften in the face of a harsh world. I offer love to those who may spit (or let’s face it, type) hate.
I breathe in to the space of my body. I travel between the cells of my being. I remember that I am an animal. I remember that searching for belonging is in my nature. I hold space for all the uncomfortable things I am bound to face. I surrender to the moment. I think there is strength in that.
Journal Prompts:
Which feels good because words fall flat.
Yesterday I almost hit a great blue heron on the way to soccer practice (yes, fully a soccer mom). We were driving on the backroads, tall cornfields on both sides. It was a route we didn’t take usually, GPS just decided this was the way to go. It was a bit more hilly than I was used to. Anyways, the music is playing, kids are singing, we go over a hill and there’s a great blue heron just STANDING IN THE ROAD. I was shook. We were going about 57 mph, and I eased the car to a stop without slamming on the breaks…I was doing my best to protect us and the bird.
Upon us getting closer to the bird, it slowly spread its’ wings and began to lift off of the ground. At this point, we fully stopped…luckily these aren’t busy roads. The long legs of the heron trailed behind, almost grazing the windshield of my car.
I was, and still am, amazed.
The heron is not the lion, as pictured in the Strength card. The heron exhibits a different kind of strength. This draws back to my last entry, where I said I think strength and patience are perhaps sisters. Or at least cousins. The Strength of this creature isn’t as upfront, in-your-face…but it’s there.
The great blue heron stands still in water, its long legs granting it the ability to do so, and watches for fish. When you think of the heron, this might be the image that comes to mind. A hunter that stands…still, patient, alone…waiting for the perfect moment.
There is a strength in how the great blue heron lives in the world. They come together for breeding season, and often nest in colonies. They provide care for young nestlings together. Once this vital part of their life cycle is done for the year, they often head out alone.
This feels oddly similar to where I find myself at the moment. Both of my children off to a full day of school Monday through Friday. I spent a long time waiting for this moment (yes, not afraid to admit that a full day of me-time was, and is, tempting). That said, it feels as though I am wading into new territory. I often found myself limited by time and resources.
Now I get to find the perfect moments throughout my day for creation, for making, for sharing. I am leaving the colony of nests to survive on my own for a while (not literally, as I am quite happily married and the kids are still home everyday). With patience, ease and hopefully grace I can slowly make my way across this threshold of change. I can gently tend to what needs attention. I can put down my phone and pick up the paintbrush. I can work on the projects that seemed too daunting. I can do all of these things, and know that there is always an imminent return home. There is exhilarating fear and excitement in this…and there is Strength in getting still, just like the great blue heron, to listen for what’s coming.
This project is a weekly walk with an individual tarot card. I will analyze the card. I will connect it with personal anecdotes. I will make art that represents the card. I will try to embody the spirit of the card (or allow its’ spirit to embody me). I will look at the days of that week to see how the chosen card shows up in my day to day life. It will be a practice of getting to know myself, getting reacquainted with the tarot, and coming back into my life. Tune in for status reports daily-ish, or get the full week’s work in a delivered newsletter.
This morning I pulled the tarot card strength, which is card 8 of the major arcana. At first glance, I see the figure attempt to open the lion’s mouth. This is done in a tender way, but also forceful. It makes me think of walking my dog. She is constantly trying to eat things I don’t know that she should eat. I am consistently trying to open her mouth to spit out a bug or a plant I haven’t identified, or a piece of garbage left on the street.
Ultimately, this practice of walking our dog, who we got a year and a half ago, has been the natural force to get my feet moving and my eyes open. Admittedly, I am still on my phone more than I would like, sometimes while walking her. Even if I tuck the phone away, I still struggle when I think of walking without music or an audiobook or podcast. But, since about midsummer, this has changed.
Walking has turned into a meditation. It’s an act of presence. I have paid more attention to my surroundings. I have paid more attention to nature. I have learned a lot about my environment. I have met more people. I have written poems. I have gotten downloads for creative project ideas. I have felt…in flow.
This comes back to strength because it brings me back to myself. Much like the infinity symbol above the person’s head in the card, I am reminded of forever returning. The daily minutiae used to be the bane of my existence…now it is an act of worship. I still struggle to pick up a dishcloth everyday. Laundry remains in the washer too long. But I am gentler. I am a buoy that gently rocks back and forth, back and forth. I may stray from the practices that help to keep me aligned with my body, my values, my soul…but I find my way back, each time a little bit quicker.
It also makes me think of the forever-ness of living this creative life. What does it look like to start a project, to walk away without berating yourself or feeling like a failure, only to return when the time is right? There is often artwork I share because the art of sharing is an instant gratification I LOVE. I make things, and immediately want to show them to every person I know. This includes you, dear internet friend. I want to show you too. Strength is holding some projects back, tenderly, forcefully. It is knowing that some things require incubation. Not everything must be birthed immediately.
I am learning this in my art practice. I will often tune in with a medium, work in it, and end up unfinished and unsatisfied with the end result. BUT…but…but, when I let it simmer. When I let the magic bake into it completely and then return to it? Usually it takes new shape, and ends up as something whole. I’m thinking this is what will be required of me as I continue writing. Some things are perfect for that immediate satisfaction. There are other projects, the big, scary projects I have been avoiding because of “insert favorite excuse here” that require patience.
I think strength and patience are perhaps sisters. Or at least cousins.
freehand crochet sweater done, using lots of yarn from the first fiber festival I went to earlier this year 💚 my creativity takes many forms. 🦋
And looking for the signs
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