I’m running a ritual for the Full Moon in Sagittarius tonight. A decorated arrow was required. I used a gum tree stick, and my Washi supply to speak to the fiery red of Sagittarius, the yellow of Air(Sun in Gemini), and the open-hearted loving conversation I wish to kindle with a dear one.
This morning, I took PizzaBoy up to Belgrave, to what I thought was a small vegan market in the grounds of Earthly Pleasures cafe. Alas, I had the time wrong, and the market didn’t start until 3pm. So we brunched, and I restrained myself from taking a picture of my avo/hummus/pea sprouts on gluten free bread, even though it was very pretty, because ten years ago, it would not have crossed my mind to share pics of my food. I sat and enjoyed the sight instead, and then eat heartily, and drank chai tea.
We had time for a Power Potter through Belgrave’s main drag (power pottering being a snappy visit to all my favourite shops) before we got PB home in time for his online gaming session of ‘Champions’, RPG, he tells me. All I’ll say is that I hear him shouting ‘I’ll use my psychic powers!’ and think: ‘Oh sure, when you say it, it’s fine, but when I say it, suddenly there’s skepticism’.
I did a little art therapy. I had need: a dark murky background in black, greys, and bruised purples, and then red acrylic paint running down the page. I left that to dry, and headed back to Belgrave to the One Love Market. I chatted, browsed, looked, and came home.
Back to art therapy. I took a picture of Weeping Woman by Picasso, and cut open her head like a flip top, and did the same for her mouth. I pasted torn up words dripping out of her head, and lightning springing from her mouth, only to be fenced in by black paint. More red paint/blood dripping from her head and mouth. Finished off with a tiny dot of orange in the bottom right hand corner.
I feel like every time I have to go see a new mental health professional, I should take this mixed media piece along and say: “Are you about to recommend meditation, moderate exercise, and more sunlight?”
Anyway, that’s out of me now, and I can settle into some reading, maybe.
- What worked in the past month? The Fool. Unplanning worked. Lol. The intuitive leap, and the moments where I was daring, and went outside my rigid thinking. That selkie poem just flowed when I trusted enough to let it happen. I didn’t find the 15,000 words that much of a slog when I set my mind to it. When I gave up formal dance training to just flit around. When I cooked by instinct, not recipe. When I knew what the problem was with the my body and acted accordingly(more collagen, less sugar).
- What didn’t work? Judgement. Magic didn’t work last month. Not even a hint of it. I didn’t ask for Divine Goddess guidance, or angelic help(because I’m still in two minds about angels). I thanked my parking fairies, but really, there’s so much parking on the few occasions I’ve been out that parking hasn’t been a problem. Asking for guidance didn’t work because I didn’t do it. BIG REMINDER TO SELF!
- What did I learn? The Hermit dropped out as soon as I picked up the deck. I learned that being lonely is just another emotion, not a life sentence. That I can endure it. That some solitude is necessary. That my life was too full before COVID. I learned a little about my inner light, and how I shine in the world. I learned a little about how easy it is for me to blend in by reflecting others, and not letting my true self be seen.
- What is the theme of this month? 2 of Pentacles. That old bugbear of balance. Never have I gotten it right. It’s always been full on with one thing, or another, but never a bit of everything. This month, I’m being asked, especially in terms of my physical self, to find balance. More yoga and balance poses? Not running myself into the ground just so that I sleep at night. A balance between mind, body, spirit. Managing those emotional ups and downs that the mind wants to take me on.
Set 3 goals and pull a card for each, and see if they align with your intuition.
5. Goal 1: 15,000 words of memoir for September(with a dash of ‘is this the final push for this draft?’): 7 of Pentacles. If I tend it, it will grow. The roots(first draft) are already there. I just have to take enough time and care to have them grow and combine into second draft. I have the energy and power within me to do this. Coming to the writing practice with a gratitude practice will help. How to find gratitude for each episode I write about. MAKE A NOTE TO DO THIS, SATYA.
6. Goal 2: Take 3 water colour lessons wherever I find them. The Moon. Hmmm, maybe I’m kidding myself here, since the Moon can be about self-deception. It’s also about facing my fears, and yes, I do have a lot of hang ups about art and me. As this morning’s water colour experiment shows, I have no idea what I’m doing. So, I can learn. The wolf and the dog howl at the moon – the wild and the tame. What happens if I lose control and unleash? Yes, I feel like art is the unknown and I’m drowning. I can embrace that, and learn to float on and with the breath. “Stop struggling to see that which you cannot see.” Accept beginner’s mind, and that I don’t know anything yet. On the surface level, maybe 3 lessons are too much on top of 15,000 words of memoir. I’ll leave that one up in the moonlit air.
7. Goal 3: rediscover that old belly dance choreography. Page of Pentacles. Balance again. A smaller goal, and of less significance than everything else in this spread. It’s the only minor arcana card. Earth magic, making something a reality, the exploration stage. Have it be that there’s nothing at stake except rediscovering it. Find the old music, find the instructions I wrote down, see what I remember. This is meant to be fun. Filming it can come a lot later. A hell of a lot later. Exploration is key here, not achievement.
For some years now I’ve been in the halfway house between motherhood and empty nester. Halfway between mother and wisewoman/enchantress.
My daughter moved out about 7 years ago, and she’s now married with 3 children. They are moving to Queensland in June. Naturally, I’m devastated, because I have discovered, finally, what it’s like to enjoy a nurturing role. When my own kids were small, I had bad post-natal, and then chronic depression, so deep that I tried to kill myself, and wished to die every day for 20 years.
Now, medicated, and in and out of therapy as I feel the need, I love my grandmother role.
However, I’m working towards accepting their move.
I’m also working on a 7 year plan to move my autistic, hearing impaired, mildly intellectually impaired, non-verbal son/mermaid out of home. I’m 55, my husband 63. Mermaid needs to learn to live without us.
One part of me remembers all those depressed years, when all I wanted was to be free of motherhood. One part of me recognises that my kids flying to coop is a good, natural thing. One part of me is horrified that I will be without a primary mothering role, and what the hell am I supposed to do with the rest of my life? How to find what is meaningful, how to have a different life? Big questions without easy answers.
So, while I’m waiting, I’ve enrolled in Kiala Givehand’s Pull Pen Paint tarot art journaling course. I get to mess around with tarot and oracle decks, ask deep questions, journal about the answers, and draw, to best of my ability what I want to express about all that. I’m a pen and tarot pull person, not a painter.
But I’m diligently showing up at the blank journal page, and mucking about. I don’t consider what I’m doing a thing of beauty, not the way Kiala and other paintery people are. I like to draw lots of crescent moons, flames, spirals, and simple flowers. I like leaves, and curls.
I’ll never be Nicole Piar, or Ciro Marchetti. Even my stick figures are pretty dodgy, and the other day, one grandson mistook a stick figure horse for a table.
My tarot card for the year, adding up my birth month, and day, with the current year, comes out as 22, or in the major arcana of the tarot, the Fool Card.
Me and art: me stepping off the cliff into the unknown. Yep, that sums it up.
Maybe, along the way, PPP will stop being a ‘fill in while I’m waiting for what I’m meant to be doing’, and become the thing itself. Or it might lead me down an unknown path. I’m not banking on it, but I’ll try to enjoy the journey.