Late at night I hear a voice whispering to me from the hallway. I think it’s trying to give me subliminal suggestions as I sleep and dream. What does it say? Pay more attention to meeeeee…. pay more attention to mee…. and then makes clicky noises. I will wake up, sleepily look towards the door and see the shadow of my cartomancy blog standing outside my door. “I will update you tomorrow! Now get back in my laptop! I’m trying to sleep!” I will tell it as I lay back down and put a pillow over my head. To be fair, it has been awhile since I sat down and really got back into the swing of things. So here I am. Happy blog?
Today’s card of the day is the high priestess card from the Isidore Tarot, in both regular and tiny size! As a designer I adore this card for its symbolism and structure. As a student of tarot I adore it for the same reasons. Today I associate most closely to its suggestion of trusting my intuition. It’s telling me to set aside the very analytical and critical talky talky part of my head that wants to logic and reason everything to death and just listen to what my inner voice has to say.
I’ve always felt it very important to pay attention to your own intuition. So much so that I’ve always trusted my feelings when something didn’t feel right or something felt absolutely right. That has been a strong thing for me much of my life. The down side is when my anxiety comes to call, usually in times of stress, I don’t listen to my intuition. Dramatic events or changes in my life (the Taurus of all Taurus creatures of comfort and habit that I am) stress me out incredibly and the anxiety tags right along. When I fell I removed my comfort and changed my day to day drastically. My anxieties came to roust. And as they sat there on my inner fence squawking at me like crows, I had a hard time allowing myself to trust my intuition. I second guessed myself constantly. I couldn’t decide if I was making my decisions based upon my actual intuition or because of the fear anxiety was helping flower within me. This all came to a head at the first of May.
Last May I returned to Michigan to attend my big brother’s wedding. His second wedding actually. He’d gone through some really hard patches in life, from an unhealthy relationship he stuck with for the sake of his kids, to a near life stalling depression that followed after the divorce. We started to swim together at his apartment complex twice a week and just talked. And with great joy I started to see my old brother in there again. The cheerful guy who took me to see Star Wars when I was a kid and to see Beetlejuice when I went all goth on him. The wonky humor that runs in our family. It was nice. I missed that greatly after moving to Ohio. But not long after I moved he finally started dating again and by luck or chance he met a wonderful woman. I love and adore her and finally feel like I have a big sister. And as I said, he married her last May. It was a wonderful weekend.
This May I was returning to Michigan under very different circumstances. Just getting on the bus was the hard part. The morning I was last supposed to get on the bus for back home I fell down the stairs five hours before leaving. My anxiety played that up big time as my gent drove me to the bus station. I was terrified to get on the bus. I had a bad feeling about it. I couldn’t tell if that was my intuition or my fear. I decided it had to be fear. And once back home I was able to hang out with my new big sis again finally, but the tone of this May from last May was very different.
A few weeks before her son suffered a massive stroke out of the blue. He was at her house picking up his kids, made a stuttering noise and was out. He had massive swelling on the brain and was put in an induced coma while they tried to sort him out. My new sis’s life became one of a new marriage trying to find a house in an overwhelmed market, watch her grandkids as much as she could so her daughter-in-law could be with her son at the rehab facility, and start a new job. She had a lot on her mind and a heavy weight on her heart. It felt good to be an ear for her. It felt good to have her ear and support. I was able to take a bit of a sigh there and look past my anxiety. And this led to a conversation with my gent.
“We should get formally married.” I told him on our evening phone call. He agreed. The time felt right. Nothing fancy, nothing formal or structured. Just a park, a few loved ones, a friend to officiate, and the two of us. The thing that struck me was that it just felt right. For a moment my anxiety was not present, not whispering to me. Fear had to take a backseat for a moment. That felt so good. I remembered that moment as I sat looking at this card today. I have been able to remember what it is to listen to my inner voice again. Hopefully this is a start.
Take that blog! I got all insightful and introspective on you again! I went all my feelings on this on you! What’s that? Oh. My blog is purring again. 😉 (Sounds kind of like a lawn mower… hmmm…)