The thought came over and over like a waterfall over rocks; tumbling and tumbling, churning the pool below into foam, I gotta sit with this. I gotta sit with this. Like saying jump while standing at the edge of a cliff. Like saying let go before you go down with the ship. She knew the emotion was at its most raw and she knew she would have to feel it one way or another. No time like the present. The gift of now is presence. All manner of algorithms and encouragements found her and helped her to be seated before her last remaining set of cards–a barely viewed deck of Sacred Geometry. She dove in, shuffling, thinking clarity, guidance, grounding. Clarity, guidance grounding, in the same rhythm she had when first learning to run. Cadence. Rhythm. Comfort. She flipped the deck over and pulled the card on top. She cut the deck and pulled the card on top. One card was stuck with so she used that as well.
The energy of Communication makes you aware that you are able to communicate with your body, thus understanding its signals and solving its discomforts. This energy brings your body and your spirit in deeper contact with each other.
The energy of Confirmation tells us that our consciousness is developing rapidly. Everything we think is actually confirmed. If we think or live based on fear, this fear will indeed be confirmed. Develop your power of thought and create what you really want. Then, your wishes will be confirmed.
The energy of Enlightenment helps you realize that you are a being of light. You are the personification of strength and divinity.
She chuckled at the mirror the cards always held. She thought, I have a bad feeling about this, after reading the first card and was humbled and bowed before the second and third.
The cards, the divine, always asking patience of us. Always urging us to use our bodies and minds for the love that made us. Always reminding us that it could be worse. I want to carry the knowledge and strength of the divine within me like life-long church/temple goers. I want to remind myself that gawd and God alone knows the plan. I want, like Ida Mae Brandon Gladney, in The Warmth of Other Suns, who escaped the Mississippi plantation cotton fields and survived the hard cold isolation of Chicago for Black People, to know that “I don’t know no better than God.” I want to be so forgiving and so sure. I want to love and stand strong in the face of whatever hardship may come. I want to love and stand strong in the embrace of whatever grace may come. And I don’t want to suffer fools while doing it.