It's the beginning of another week, which means it's time to find out what's possible for us energetically this week.
As with last week, we'll start with the card for the week and its associated message, and then we'll look at things from another perspective to deepen our understanding - and the potential.
Our card for the week is...
When I flipped this card over, I heard, "Let's dig in." That certainly sounds reasonable, given that this card can sometimes mean great heartache of some sort.
Even just studying the card's imagery, I notice that even though the heart-shaped cake has been impaled by three cake servers, the impaling was done with such precision that the cake itself isn't a mess. Perhaps that's telling? Let's find out.
"The tone of this week is one of getting to the heart of the matter, of digging in to the root of any heartache or despair or despondence which may be keeping you as though in the past. There is both need and opportunity to see what is perpetuating the dis-ease, and give it the attention and healing it requires.
"With this, then, ask yourself, 'Who is holding my heart in such a way that I'm imprisoned?' This will set the envisioning, investigating and healing in motion."
Okay. It feels important to mention that while this card in Tarot is typically one that really bothers people, the channeled message brings forth healing rather than hurting. This is why it's helpful to remember that Tarot truly is a tool for healing, no matter what card comes to light.
That said, I'm deeply appreciating the opportunity for some excavation and healing being offered up to us. And I'd encourage you to add another question - or perhaps to sub it - to the one served through the message: What is holding my heart in such a way that I'm imprisoned?
Whether it's a who or a what that's holding us back, this is an opportune week to get clear about it and begin healing it so we can move wholly forward, apace with the other facets of our life.
When I closed my eyes to lean into what the other energetic perspective for this week might be, I was immediately shown a weathered wooden dock overlooking a calm - neutral - and very gray body of water. The whole appearance is stark, barren...
I find myself standing on the dock, looking out over the water, looking back behind me, finding myself completely alone and isolated. There's no fear, and yet there's no peace, either. There's a feeling of waiting, and as I wait it's as though someone has taken up a paintbrush, because all that was gray is being painted in dynamic, living color.
The trees across the water a now a lush pine green. The water is blue and silver with streaks of pink from the reflection of the sun either setting or rising. The dock is still gray and weathered, and yet other nuances of color appear on its rough boards, including the rust on the nails holding it together.
And when I turn around to face away from the water, I see a bustling town full of color and light and people. I notice the promise of sweet shops and a café. Suddenly, I'm no longer alone or isolated, and the comforting warmth of belonging has replaced the feeling of waiting.
What does it mean?
"We would ask that you permit yourself the grace of a change of perspective. We notice that when there is internal challenge, the external landscape becomes as though in shadow form; void of color and light.
"We would ask that you allow the external to remain in vibrancy and movement, that it may offer you inspiration to escape from the shadows of the mind."
I love that. Does it make sense to you? Or, as Jamie Outlander Frasier might ask, "Do ya ken?"
I hear the word "malaise," which immediately takes me to the doldrums; being "down in the dumps" or maybe even depressed to a degree. When we're in that sort of an internal state, it most certainly can uncolor the world around us.
Then again, it could be that the shadowy gray nature of what we perceive around us uncolors our normally colorful internal state. It's the opposite, and yet it's the same function.
It's a fascinating supposition that it could be both; that we might feel gray and shadowy internally and yet we could still perceive the world around us in its technicolor glory, or that we might feel the glory of technicolor internally and yet we still perceive the world around us as shadowy and gray.
- Is it the internal or the external landscape that's been uncolored for you?
- How might it help you to move through that internal - or external - landscape with more ease, even as you're doing whatever work is necessary to reclaim its color?
And if you don't feel either your external or internal landscape has been uncolored...
How is that you're maintaining your vibrance from the inside out?
Maybe you could offer some inspiration to those who need it right about now.
Blessed be, dear ones.