A Full Moon Card Draw
With the current state of politics, I'm feeling more need for insight and inspiration than usual, and I'm thinking my friends might also be feeling the same. So I'm going to try to schedule card readings more often this year, hopefully at least once a month at either the full moon or then new (or possibly both
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There's no snow left on the pavement, but a little still lies in puddles and drifts around the rose bushes, and you can look out the window at the garden while I heat the milk. There are little tracks in it, cat and racoon, maybe even a spindly possum paw-print.
After a while, you realize he is sitting out there too, cross-legged, but upside down, sitting "on" the ceiling of the covered part of the porch. At first, you thought he was an abandoned nest, all twigs and dry leaves and fibers, but then he winked at you.
Not all wise men are shamans, and not all shamans are wise, but the Sage is both, seeing into this world and the others. His message is always about wisdom, patience, and hidden knowledge. With him showing up reversed, he is warning that there is some kind of blockage or imbalance--knowledge that could be known but which has not been shared with the people who need it, or perhaps an inability or unwillingness to apply skills or knowledge learned in one setting to a different one, where it is needed now. He also sometimes appears when someone is so certain that they know the answers already that they are not looking for more information.
He invites you to go outside, to walk in the garden, which suddenly has a gate between the roses to a quiet, snow-filled woods. You cannot see the parked cars or the city street any more. "You're welcome to come visit my garden or not, freely," he says in a low, melodious voice. "A different perspective can clear the mind, and I promise to have you back before the chocolate is done."
If you go, the woods are peaceful and beautiful, and you can talk things out with the Sage, get some insight on what's blocking or confusing you, and where to look to discover the things that you don't know yet. And true to his word, you and he are back on the porch, safely back in the mortal world, when I come back from the kitchen with hot chocolate and cookies. He looks hopefully at the mugs, and I head back into the kitchen for another one.
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...He looked just like the Hanged Man when I first saw him sitting upside down like that. I think I will go join him indeed.
"It's beautiful out here. I've been thinking about what it might mean that knowledge is blocked. There's one very obvious answer: before I convinced my partner to go to the hospital, he had a bad pain in his leg that had been increasing slowly, but we had no idea what it was or how to help it. Now we've had the doctors' insight, and scans have been done, and the answer and treatment is clear. But that's already happened, and I don't know why your message would be for something in the past.
"It's true, I don't know where to look next. If there is a different perspective, I'm still firmly right side up."
I fall silent and look around through the icy trees.
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You get settled to look out the window, but soon you head outside.
The Sage puts his hand on the ceiling, as if to steady himself, and unfolds downward, as graceful as any gymnast, dropping to the porch gently. It's unclear how he got up there, as there are no footprints in the snow until you and step on the porch, down the steps, and into the woods. Surely, he couldn't have been waiting since before the snow fell?
But then you remember that in the other world, there was no new snow. You're somewhere else now.
Snowflakes fall around you, dancing slowly in a slight breeze. The air is very clear and clean, and your lungs welcome it. A squirrel chatters above you, and the Sage reaches up, somehow not seeming to stretch, and places three nuts in the snow on the branch the squirrel is sitting on. You walk on.
A path appears before you, and you follow it into a clearing where She of the Cruach sits. Himself stands behind her. It is hard to see She at first; she is more glow than physical form. But as the snowflakes fall on her, and are caught in the warm energy without melting, you start to see a motherly figure and a compassionate smile. Himself has stars in his hair, or perhaps they are just extra-glowy snowflakes.
In his presence, you feel more yourself than you have in a while.
They don't tell me what they say to you, but I can tell you a little about them. She is about nurturing and healing, especially spiritual healing, and Himself speaks of protection, of deep and committed relationships, and of shamanism. My theory is that perhaps your partner needs some spiritual healing or shamanic experience in addition to the physical healing the doctors are providing. Or maybe you do--taking care of a sick partner and all of the other things you both normally handle together and separately takes a toll on a person.
After you talk with them, She offers you a crystal goblet, filled with clear water that's neither too cold nor too warm, and you drink, and then they are gone and you are standing in the wood with The Sage. There is no clearing or path, only snow falling. There are now a number of squirrels happily eating nuts in the trees around you.
He lets you wander in the wood as long as you want, talking or not as you choose, and leads you back to my porch. As promised, you are just opening the door and shaking the snow off your boots as I come back out of the kitchen, cats curling around my feet. The cats look up as you enter and they scatter, the long-haired Siamese darting upstairs and the black cat moving to peer at you cautiously from the library.
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