Sunday, February 19, 2012

"To die of a rose": the Five of Swords

If nothing else, using oneself as a tarot guinea pig may teach a little more compassion, and with it maybe an understanding that the truth isn’t always easy, and that you can’t/shouldn’t sugar-coat the pill every time. Sometimes we need to know how hard things can be, and not be too fast to put a positive ‘new age’ spin on them. Rather than say “Oh, I see you starting off on a whole new foot” it might be better to at least make passing reference to the amputation and prosthesis that will come first.

Before writing this morning I shuffled and cut the Five of Swords. Five is the Breaker of Form. It’s also the five-petalled Rose, sacred to the White Goddess. New life is always about something being broken up. The earth, to make room for young shoots, fruit eaten by bears so their seeds can find new territory, the human body wrenched by childbirth or by dying.

when it comes in Swords, it’s going to be a mental body that breaks. It will be that thing that you have said you will never let go of, the way of being that you identify as the non-negotiable one. You are asked first just to think the unthinkable, and then experience it.

There’s not much consolation you can offer to a person walking into a Five of Swords experience. Saying how okay everything will be doesn’t help. “They lived happily ever after” is obviously only one locus on the ‘story continuum’. They also got old and died, with a variety of ups and downs along the way.

The Five of Swords comes in Air, and Air gives us a strategy for dealing with it. Breathe! It works for childbirth, when the whole body is being wrenched. As you feel yourself ripped apart by change, apparent loss, or pain, just breathe. If you breathe with the pain it stops being pain. Breathe into the centre of the pain, and then breathe the pain out. More will likely be coming, but you find you can breast the waves.

I am doing this as I write. Big change is up for me. I’m being asked to grow a new body. To do this I am needing to let go of a lot of mind-forms about what a body is, does, can do. I love my old body, even if I have been hard on it and negligent from time to time. We’ve been together a long time. It’s like dying. Hell, maybe it is dying.

Finally only love will see us through, eh? Remember this, and as you breathe out, breathing out the pain and fear, even knowing you can’t conquer it, you can only stay suspended in its heart, as you breathe out say “I love You.” It will help to melt the form for sure.

For some reason I’m holding a quote from Alexander Pope in my mind today. “To die of a rose in aromatic pain.”

No comments:

Post a Comment