Somehow this blog has slipped away from me. I realized with a horrified flash during the night that I haven’t been here for a long time. To those of you who still keep an eye on the blog, my apologies. I have been working very hard on a book about the Tarot, and that may have been sufficient distraction. My personal life (I rarely have one) has also been a little distracting.
However, here we are at last. It’s like finding yourself in a comfortable chair visiting with an old friend. One almost wants a pipe and tobacco. A hearth would be nice. Tea and fresh scones. A good recording of a Mozart quartet.
All these desires, eh? Well anyhow here I am. No scones, hearth, pipe, but I do have tea, and I do have you.
And anything can change at any moment. The fact of us being here at all depends on the tiniest calibrations, the Earth’s orbit just so, the Sun’s temperature and distance from us, the gaseous composition of the atmosphere. We live within this microscopic range of conditions. They were enough to cellular life to assemble. The conditions stayed the same, with just enough oscillation to create challenge, never too much. Invertebrate life. Ant colonies. Primates. The Internet. The whole network of evolution and now human survival depending on conditions that we know for sure will change.
Six is the equilibrated centre. It is joined to every house but one by energetic bonds we call the Major Cards. Five is the House of Challenge. Nothing can ever stay the same – the Cosmos has no still point in it. The Path than connects the two, the Four and the Five, is the Path of Justice. We think of the scales of Justice as needing to be balanced. A little bit on this side, a little bit on that, until we get it right. Right. That’s the core of our human mistake. The trick is never to try and balance the circumstances – it’s to let go of them and let them find their own way. If we do, they will. They will anyway, but if we let go sooner, the equilibration may be less traumatic.
I am sitting in my front room. Fall has arrived here in the mountains, and the room is full of cool grey light and a small wind. I am surrounded by comfortable and useful things. A comfy couch, a rocking-chair, a telephone, fast Internet, all the food I need. I have a friendly housemate who support me in managing my blindness. I can afford the heating bills which will soon appear. All this is dependent on absurdly slender threads. I hold this lovely centre like a silver spider in a silver web. But any wind or passing animal can rip away a spider web. My web is moored by only two strands. My reliance on a government pension. The fact that people choose to consult with me and my cards. A wise spider certainly has more than two. I think of how easily one of these could break, and what I would do if it did.
When I was little I loved kaleidoscopes. One doesn’t see them much any more. A cardboard tube, set of mirrors and a handful of coloured glass chips. Turn it and point it to the light and there’s a crystal garden. If the garden could think, how much might it fear the turning of the kaleidoscope, the forming of a new garden? It’s almost intolerable to now that the intersection that gives us life is so temporary, so necessarily changeable. It means that to embrace this lovely silvery moment with you I also have to embrace its ruin, no?