I wrote in my journal today for the first time in a long time. I stopped writing in there because it takes too long. I can spend an hour or more writing because I'm not writing the whole time. I am staring off reflecting and even though I am not present, I couldn't feel more present. When I wander off I notice the sounds of my backyard, the relief of a light breeze on hot skin, observe the plants changing and notice what needs tending, what raspberries look ripe for my tastebuds, an all around sweetness.
So when I drew the 5 of pentacles I was struck with a feeling I am very familiar with, but do not currently possess. I referenced my tarot guidebooks by Jessica Dore and Lindsay Mack. They shared similar themes and antidotes: A fear of not having everything you need or the answers to proceed, stuck a liminal space of wanting to be anywhere but here. Akin to the afterlife waiting room, you have plenty of time to think about wishing you had done something differently when you had the time. Dore and Mack speak on meeting the uneasiness with presence in a temporal existence.
I struggle to do things without a distraction telling me to keep on going and doing the the thing you don't want to do. I normally long to be somewhere else. When I am at home trying to work I continuously check social media something instead of being. I do this on my computer because it's no longer on my phone and I leave my phone other places so I am not tethered to it. I watch other people make art, work out, go grocery shopping, a record of a a lived life. I do this when I don't know what to do next and lose the time I had to do something, anything.
But last night, a new friend invited me to a DIY garden show where people hung out with their friends and kids and listened to each other express themselves through music and words. When I was in someone's backyard, I listened to other people's conversations, to music, pet a dog, swayed, rocked and tapped my body, sang along, collectively noticed squirrels an birds chiming in to the sweet sounds of love , wrote lyrics down, learned how people are connecting in the city (through clowning, singing, knitting, dialoguing, meditating) heard stories, witnessed grief and laughed at the absurdity of life. I checked my phone once and put it back in my bag. I took a couple photos with a disposable camera. Felt the temperature drop as the sun set. Returned home too tired to do anything, but make a to do list for tomorrow while I watched part of the breakfast club on my tv/vcr combo, then read myself to sleep.
Today, I went to the dentist for a filling. Bob Ross was on tv and Barracuda was playing on the radio. I told them the vibes are good in this dental room. I listened to the dentist talk with the hygienist about wandering around with nothing better to do, world cup matches, the office ghost named Charlie, entering an occult shop, petting a snake and meeting a bearded dragon. The dentist bought his first tarot deck and followed the merchant's instructions to light lavender incense and keep the card he pulled under his pillow. He said he had a bad dream. I wanted to know more. What card did he pull, what was his dream? I wanted to tell them my dad's name is charley and the little I know about tarot. I wanted to tell them my brother's therapist prescribed him to get a pet for his depression. He got a chameleon which died likely due to chronic stress. The therapist told my brother that's not what I meant by pet. I couldn't say anything and don't even know if I would have without the multiple devices in my mouth.
I looked back at my last journal entry over a month ago, a record of a bad dream where I was late, lost, searching for instruction and continuously met with "we can't help you" and an inner knowing of wanting to live my life differently. A deep desire to put down what is making me sick. In Tarot for change, Jessica Dore writes about "these trap doors and exit strategies helped us survive a long time ago...We do not need to stay there, frozen in our personal antiquities, doomed to eat old, rotting fruit that is bordering on poisonous at this point." I love the framing of trap doors of temporary avoidance and exit strategies to escape what feels presently unbearable.
I have been asking myself repeatedly for last the few months, possibly years "do i have what it takes" and I think the answer is no. But I've never wanted to be here, not there or elsewhere more than I do right now.
www.corriekennedy.com
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