Tarot wisdom and other trivia
A Tarot card told me this morning that I have forgotten how to have fun. That I am so busy holding it all together, making sure things run smoothly, so busy ‘living conscientiously’, that I have stopped ‘living consciously’. Life, it seems, is passing me by and I am in danger of becoming a fossil before my time.
Oh dear.
It gets worse. My self importance, says the Tarot accusingly, has exceeded all reasonable bounds. What makes me believe that I carry the universe on my shoulders? That if I don’t make it to that meeting, answer that email, write that report this weekend … that if I don’t personally polish it all to perfection, it will completely fall apart? Sigh. What, indeed?
Now, the Tarot and I have usually had an uneasy relationship. Apart from having a tendency to pontificate, it is not a great believer in straight talking. It waffles and dithers, it will not take a stand, and it urges me to “look inwards” rather than coming right out and saying what it means. AND it’s a bit of a pompous wiseguy (check out the clever juxtaposition of ‘conscious’ and ‘conscientious’ up there). The vehemence of its no-holds-barred speech this time has therefore startled me. Clearly, I have moved it to speak its mind. Time to pay heed I suppose.
A careful examination of weekends for the last 6 months reveals a remarkable absence of anything remotely worthwhile. No dawdling, no pottering, no reading, no writing, no dancing, no Sudoku, even. No blogging, of course. Have 24 weekends at a trot been spent in the pursuit of (ugh) living conscientiously? It would seem that way.
Time to pay heed, indeed. Step 1 is to write a new post. Not enough to appease the Tarot, perhaps, but a small, firm step towards redemption.
Oh dear.
It gets worse. My self importance, says the Tarot accusingly, has exceeded all reasonable bounds. What makes me believe that I carry the universe on my shoulders? That if I don’t make it to that meeting, answer that email, write that report this weekend … that if I don’t personally polish it all to perfection, it will completely fall apart? Sigh. What, indeed?
Now, the Tarot and I have usually had an uneasy relationship. Apart from having a tendency to pontificate, it is not a great believer in straight talking. It waffles and dithers, it will not take a stand, and it urges me to “look inwards” rather than coming right out and saying what it means. AND it’s a bit of a pompous wiseguy (check out the clever juxtaposition of ‘conscious’ and ‘conscientious’ up there). The vehemence of its no-holds-barred speech this time has therefore startled me. Clearly, I have moved it to speak its mind. Time to pay heed I suppose.
A careful examination of weekends for the last 6 months reveals a remarkable absence of anything remotely worthwhile. No dawdling, no pottering, no reading, no writing, no dancing, no Sudoku, even. No blogging, of course. Have 24 weekends at a trot been spent in the pursuit of (ugh) living conscientiously? It would seem that way.
Time to pay heed, indeed. Step 1 is to write a new post. Not enough to appease the Tarot, perhaps, but a small, firm step towards redemption.
posted by Anjali at
4:22 AM
|
7 comments
