About once a year, when I’m particularly stuck, depressed or just want to run away, I will do a random Hoyle deck draw of three cards and then do a tarot interpretation using:
hearts : cups
diamonds : pentacles
clubs : wands
spades : swords
So I had drawn the Queen of Cups, who appears to be far and away my totem. In some illustrations she even has a mermaid tail, as do all Capricorns; though in tarot, cups represent the water signs.
But her characteristics are:
This from nylon.com, a site I’d never seen before.
Nylon.com says Capricorn’s card is The Devil, “driven to succeed but chained by earthy expectations.”
And that rings a bell.
“The Devil, too, wants you to know what is and what isn’t right for you — but he wants you to find out the hard way.”
Well, that pretty much sums up my life.
Turns out nylon.com is a pop culture and fashion site. So IDKAT.
Wasn’t sure what “relational fluidity” meant, so I Googled it. Now Google was convinced I meant “relationship fluidity,” and most of those hits pertained to sex, especially bi/trans sex.
So I pressed for my original query (butt out, Google) and those hits brought up papers on social rhythms, autonomy and identity. Now we’re talking.
I think, for me personally, the attribute of relational fluidity means that I relate to all kinds of people, not just the ones mother liked.
Oxford defines the pros and cons of fluidity:
smooth elegance or grace
unsettled, unstable, changeable
— so presumably the Queen of Cups reversed.
Being naturally wary of things deemed superstitious (but intrigued by them nonetheless), I roll everything around in my head like a ball of dough until it becomes smooth and looks like just one single thing.
I’m reminded of what Colin used to say, that the universe is just one big thing doing one big thing.
Googling that quote takes me nowhere relevant, which is why we need librarians.
Also it’s vintage Colin and we don’t have a lexicon for him yet, as far as I know. Maybe I should build one.
But I digress.
I like to say I trust the process, even when I can’t tell what it is and where it’s taking me. And that’s never been truer than now.
Last night I moved from my bedroom to the guest room because it’s better insulated from the sound of drag racing on I-240. I had the sense of staying in an Airbnb — cozy and impersonal.
So I thought, what if instead of running away, I just pretend I’m already where I want to go?
For one, it would be a lot cheaper.
Two, I’m still not entirely settled from the last move.
So staycay starts today, albeit a working one. Gotta save up for when I truly do run away.
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