I've done a couple of readings recently, trying to get some kind of footing on this unsteady ground we're all finding ourselves on currently, and which I haven't shared here - partially because I haven't had time to dissect them like I normally do. But today I felt moved to take it a step further, and rather than asking myself a broad question, I shot higher and asked Brigid what I should do.
For Bean, specifically.
(While I'm typically agnostic at best, I've had a few conversations with friends about deity work recently, and it felt right in this instance. I won't say more about it than that for now.)
Now, for context, I need to set the scene. It's 7am, a week after I found out that we just voted a dictator back into office - something which I had stupidly thought was a near impossibility, given everything. I'm watching my daughter sleep. I'm listening to a music league playlist, and Running Up That Hill (the Placebo cover) is playing. And that's when I shoot the question, and I draw.
Well, alright then.
I cannot tell you how many times I've seen the Ten of Swords since last week. Betrayal - that's been the theme, and I feel like that accurately encapsulates my feelings right now. My country, my people, my own family let me down. Let my daughter down. And I'm in a world of hurt over it - and more than a little angry. Looking further, Ten of Swords represents an end, and that's exactly what this is. It's done. We can't go back. For better or worse, the status quo is dead.
Ten of Pentacles reminds me where my strength is: my partner, and the home we've built. In other decks, this card is represented in less bucolic terms, recalling more of a fortress. Coupled with the suit, it speaks of security. But this deck is less financially-minded, focusing instead on the human element - a reminder that I have a village to lean on. That Bean will have more than just her parents in her life that she will be able to turn to, and trust.
Nine of Wands: resilience. That's going to be the key word over the coming weeks, months, and years. It's going to be hard. Jesus fuck is it going to be hard. But we've got to keep going, and we've got to hold on, and we've got to stand against what's coming. Even if that doesn't look like open rebellion - even if it's just showing my kid in every way I can that she matters. Being in her corner every step of the way, because God knows the world isn't. Especially not now. A little reminder to brace myself.
To that end, the Knight of Cups suggests gentleness. Creativity, and kindness, and beauty - little rays of goodness to light the way. A reminder to show her those things exist too (and to remind myself for that matter.)
Finally, Death - endings again, but in a transformative sense. It's neither a positive or a negative in this context, more a reminder to adapt. Adapt and overcome seems to be the overarching message here: survive, and outlive this, and see that she does too. That's it - that's all I can do. That's all any of us can do, really.
