Another week without a moment made for some tarot and reflective journaling, and yes I could feel the imbalance quite keenly. So for today's devotion, I woke up early, pottered around my still a mess of boxes apartment doing not much of anything, scrambled some eggs, brewed some tea, and sat by the window with the Mary-El and some witnessing crystals.
I continue to be in love with the way this deck surprises me with its gentle steadiness- as intense as the art is. This particular reading spoke to the heart of the anxiety I've been carrying around. That on the other side of this whirlwind of busy and exhausting I'll be left without my healing and access to spirit- that somehow I'll have lost my writing, divination, and honey healer's touch. I keep reminding myself that my inability to write is a result of my well being so emptied lately and that I haven't given myself time to replenish.
It's hard to swallow the anxiety, and even guilt at not being able to produce. Which is a huge problem- and I've come against it before. Being visible as a healer activates a problematic urge for me to produce and perform and constantly churn out wisdom. Which is ridiculous, because I'm human. I'm also still working through deep, soul-shaking grief and just because I've been too busy to sit with it doesn't mean it still isn't working its way up and down my body and spirit. It's arrogant, it's without compassion for myself, and it is just plain unhelpful.
The Page of Swords helps me cut through the crap, excuses, bullshit, and lies of anxiety and come back gently to my spiritual practice. Remembering that it is true that I've been blocked, unable to access the portals I know I have, and I have also been tired, and in need of rest and replenishment. Taking time for that is a gift I deserve to receive for myself time and time again. So much of my life is not what it was before my mother passed, so much of who I was is changed and also that does not mean lost.
I still have access to the purest truest parts of me. I still have magic, I still have words, and the access to them when I'm ready for them.
Healer is a space I inhabit when I'm good and not so good- it's more that I need to remember how to turn that healing inward, and keep for myself more often.
This is beginning again and learning to be okay, if not happy (another word is forming under my tongue, happy isn't quite what I'm reaching for), with my many and necessary beginnings again.