Playing with the morning light
Musings through the MotherPeace tarot
What I can see: Ace of Wands
There is a child, bursting from the seed of life, encompassed and simultaneously producing the flames all around it. Energy feels like that: a dance between the source and the reaction where both engage to spark the greatest evolution contained in the possibility of new life. Ready to start, the child holds up its arms with wreckless abandon and excitement only the youngest of us know in its innocence and glory yet to come.
What I can’t see: The Moon
Ancestral wisdom is buried deep in the sea. One of our mothers lives in the moon. She shows us the cycle of life in her phases in her face each month. Reminding us that time passes, yes, in a continuum, but it is not linear. The great circle of life requires us to return, again and again, to the lessons of the past. She asks us to check in and reflect on whether we’re ready to move on, or if we need to gestate a little longer, waiting for the lesson to settle in our bones as time ticks and we lose another day living the life we want down the road. It is the price we pay for getting another chance. We are reminded that our burden unresolved become’s our children’s, so we must wait, floating in the salty arms of the mother in the sea. They hold us in tandem, from the sky to the water. We are never alone on our journey.
What I can change: The Son of Wands
We see ourselves down the road, living passionately, childishly, as we dance in front of the mother and kin. He reminds us that age is but a number, and the playfulness of the Fool returns at the beginning of every new chapter. We can expect to find ourselves with fists raised as the child at the beginning, ready to explore undaunted territory. That is the gift of working through the lessons of a cycle: We get to return anew to share and live the wisdom we have accrued. Then, you can play again! This time, you’ll have vitality and ancient wisdom remembered in your bones.
What I can’t change: Wheel of Fortune
And yet, we find ourselves at the great wheel. This is the crossroads of life, so it is no surprise. Every journey has a moment of choice upon which we must decide which path to take. Sometimes, often times, they will converge, and we will be reminded of the path not chosen. And we are given a chance to dance for a moment on that threshold and imagine what it might be like. That’s how I met her, at the gates of the veil between worlds. I cannot change this chapter, and this moment upon which I must decide. She and I have lived a thousand lives, and we will meet again.
What I can expect: The Four of Discs
Sweet solitude, you always return. You remind us to tend to our hearts and the fire within so that the snake at the base of our spine can weave its’ way out. We must keep the channel clear with smoke that touches every surface so that the vital life within can penetrate every cell and regenerate the parts that need renewal. We gestate again, waiting and listening, taking note and redirecting, pausing and creating, surrendering to a process that releases us in our return.
And the seed gestates, the moon reminds, the fool dances with wisdom to share, the crossroads present choice, and the snake burrows deep to fuel our return when we are ready.
