The Lovers Knock on your Door

When The Lovers Knock on Your Door

A wind blows clouds asunder.  Blue sky opens to higher power, the realm of unseen helpers.

But what's in your face?  What choices dominate your monkey mind?

This month women of Tea & Tarot slept with The Lovers and invited them in for tea.  My Lovers card flipped behind the bed, out of reach and I had to ask my lover to retrieve it for me.  Asking for help is not what I usually associate with this card.  But I will now.  An aspect of this engaging image, asking and receiving, knowing what the choice is and accepting the outcome.  We gather to find our own understanding of the cards, to enhance our perceptions, to "own" the deck.

First I see the importance of integrating the masculine and feminine within.  Once we blend  these two aspects, we can be more successful in our relationships, in making wiser choices, in stepping out of our comfort zone to experience new horizons.

Today we celebrated one year of tarot study, gathering once a month and examining the Major Arcana in sequence and as it relates to the pip cards and the tarot constellations as developed by Angeles Arrien and Mary K. Greer.

The Thoth deck Lovers

Each deck offers symbols that pull us into greater understanding of ourselves.  Do you have a favorite deck?  What do The Lovers ask of you?

 

 

  

Blue Moon 2012

Sunset on Lake Whatcom

We walk to shoreline, looking down the lake toward Bellingham as the sun glows a soft apricot on water.  Turning toward the spit, we walk hand in hand as the air chills.  We pause toward the end, not wanting to intrude on a couple fishing.  I stare into the deep clear water, our drinking water, too cold for a swim.

As we walk back, Michael points out a bench facing Stewart Mountain.  It is a new bench inscribed in memory of a couple.  We sit close.  I gather his warmth through my heavy jacket, hold his hand as he puts it in the pocket of the yellow fleece jacket I gave him years ago.  Still I'm cold waiting for moonrise.  I stretch my legs across his.  He is always warmer than I am.

Blue heron waits for blue moon

We watch the stillness of a blue heron practicing gigong as she waits for the blue moon.  She dives only once, flies flat just above the water line and returns for her vigil.  We wait.  I miscalculated the time of moonrise, forgetting to allow for the sight restrictions of the mountain across the lake, our favorite sky viewing spot.

We talk.  We listen.  We remember other full moons.  Seagulls squawk their impatience.  We are both cold now, cuddled up on that bench waiting.  Perhaps we are both just about to say "let's go home and have dinner."

"Look!"  I point and catch my breath with the intensity of the spotlight floating on the mountain ridge.  She rises quickly like a million wings lifting her.  A small glimmer of white water her first reflection.  Ducks circle in the growing water light.  Bats careen between us and the moon.  The silver light opens, a swath across the lake, touching us.  No one between us and the moon but her watery reflection and lake animals.

We bathe in blue moonlight for time without timing.  He is mesmerized by her sudden appearance and marvels as we walk back to the car.  No, he doesn't make gender references.  I do for surely the divine feminine is alive and well and linking me to the Universe tonight.

Photo credit:  C.J. Prince