Looking for the Light ...

honey, you are so swords right now, you do not see the water.

and it is right in a way, for both have a sense of dangling, of loss. the 8 of cups wants to search for what appears to be missing. the 8 of swords is blindfolded and surrounded, blocked from her future and haunted by her past. the 8 of wands is a repite, a gift of which there will always be more. the 8 of disc is a honing of craft.

”nothing in isolation, my child.”

what if i am right and the world is wrong?

”It doesn’t matter, for the wheel of time/progress grind on without care for who is right and who is wrong.”

how many times much i learn this lesson? you cannot stop the machine? but what if i left more clues, to comine with the other clues there. would they, over time, make a difference?

”i don’t know, child. i cannot say. did anything you read ever make a difference to you?”

yes, oh, yes, grandmother! that is why i am here!

”well then, child, it cannot hurt. write away then. only do not neglect your chores.”

yes, grandmother. grandmother?

”yes, child.”

what are my chores?

”oh, that you will learn over time. For now, laundry, and dishes. and bring in the wood for the fire. and tend the cat. and, read to me.”

read to you?

”yes, read to me.”

what would you like me to read to you?

”oh. tonight let us hear ‘Black Beauty.’

I had expected anything but a child’s story about a horse. But reading it again after so many, many, many years … i see a a kindness and a wisdom undimmed by the years.