Last night’s meditation: 37 minutes. This morning, one hour.
Cursor blinks, white screen illuminating my face. An incense burns to my right. A cup of freshly brewed coffee steams up my face. I exhale and close my eyes. Hunched over, sitting on the stool, I type.
How do I feel? As I ask myself, my back straightens, and inhale a little before exhaling.
Last night, after walking over to the Winchester to meet friends, I invite them over to check out my place. To help one with her market research before moving to Cape Town in September. Before leaving, I tell them I will kick them out early so I can meditate and repeat the successes of today tomorrow.
One sees a deck of Tarot cards and asks for a reading.
I let them go first, questions around love and family. Common denominator of human existence. We seek to belong. Families and love we desire.
I recommend they listen to this podcast between Chris Williamson and Steve Bartlett on Why Finding Love seems harder. https://open.spotify.com/episode/0SkqmUIAd9AtBlLLgICmpR
I am trying to stop from chasing butterflies. Instead, tend to a garden to invite them in. A sanctuary. Full of food and water. A place to rest. Here, we are at peace.
We must belong to ourselves first and foremost. Everything else follows. Everyone else is secondary.
I am last to go. I ask what I must let go of. What I need to focus on now.
Upside down Page of Cups and Ten of Swords.
What do I notice? Celtic Cross reading from two weeks ago. Upright Page of Cups to signal what is behind me. 8 of Swords showing my hopes and fears, me ignoring what I need to see, restraining myself. So to see 10 of Swords signifying the end of a chapter doesn’t surprise me. The rock bottom, with the only way up.
I do not design my life around Tarot Cards. A taboo and voodoo for those inclined towards religion. It is another medium to connect with myself. No different from weighing myself, and measuring my eye sight. They are all subjective measures, meaningless without an objective frame or context.
Past two weeks – has it been that long? – spent in darkness, pain body activating, restraining myself, keeping myself still with my eyes wide open, sleepwalking. And so the stye on my right eye, that is finally healing after a month, what does it all mean?
I am entering a new chapter of more awareness and mindfulness.
Made possible by going back to the mat and connecting with the body.
Reminding myself that there is always time for what matters.
To meditate. An hour passes quickly to my surprise.
To make the bed.
Open the window and let the yesterday be gone. Invite today in. Grind the beans. Open the tap to pour water into the stove expresso maker. Add the ground coffee. Let the heat from the bottom let the steam pass through the grinds. Gurgling and steaming faster than usual, with the hot water pre-boiled from the kettle.
Reminded by the previous reading: Page of Pentacles: Stay grounded in yourself. Keep investing in yourself – your joy, creativity, future. You don’t have to chase or fix or prove anything. Give with your whole heart, yes – but you don’t have to overextend to keep something balanced.
Mixed signals are not love. If something feels confusing or inconsistent, move on. Clarity and mutuality does not take guess work.
It’s like the recent training on how to communicate with impact. Doing so not only improves our work, but our life holistically.
Why? Because it enables us to communicate clearly and intentionally. Cutting through noise and clutter. This does not mean we are overly direct or unkind in our delivery. It does mean we are clear and the listener understands exactly what you are looking for. It is about having the courage to recognize what it is that we want. And two, speaking the truth, ready to walk away from the deal if the buyer isn’t willing to pay the market price.
It’s about saying ‘no’ to ostensibly exciting opportunities overseas. What was once exciting is now a distraction from my purpose.
Again, I ask myself. What kind of love letter is this?
To words and thoughts, typed with my fingers, straight from the heart. Without discernment, I want to write, but this sounds wrong. With honesty and without fear is what I mean. Knowing that only I can hurt myself. The world is there to help me achieve what I have set out to do. All I have to do is Decide is what all my loved ones and universal signs tell me.
To my craft, these words I write. To literacy. To the able body. I write the love letter wrapped in gratitude and joy.