I’m beginning to wonder if this card has got Marmite on it, or something similarly sticky that means it adheres to my hand and gets pulled out of the deck. Because that’s what’s happened every day this week, but really. No matter how I shuffle, cut or just plain drop on the table, this card has shown up.
Today it coincides with day three of a relatively low key migraine and a strong urge to curl up in a huge, cushy bed, near a big TV, lots of snacks, room service, magazines and a luxurious en suite bathroom. For a straight 24 hours.
Is that my sacred space? Almost definitely not. More probably it’s an open beach in some wildish weather. A woodland in summer. Under the pear tree in my garden, early on a spring morning. A particular spot in a Queensland rainforest in a sudden storm. Those are the geographic locations. As the book says, a sacred space can also be an inner space; a belief.
I am certainly hearing the call to rejuvenate my spirit. That may partially be seasonal; the quickening, the sap rising. It’s also a recognition that I’ve been focused elsewhere and it’s time for something less physical, less worldly, less temporal to have a turn.
Not that I’m complaining. That focus has resulted in my discovering there are ways I can walk which mean I can keep going for longer than 25 minutes without being in some nasty pain. Considerably longer. That in itself is gold, and as so many of my sacred spaces involve being able to walk to/in/through them, quite handy.
I’ve also been inspired, thanks to Jackie, to have a new thought about An Actual Job. Y’know, the kind where you do work and get paid? I gave up employment when we decided to homeschool and that was nearly seven years ago. It’s past time for me to earn. Self-employed. So that’s in the works.
I’ve had multiple doctor/specialist appointments. The wait for one of those was unpleasant thanks to a new GP who decided I had a particular problem and we HAD TO BE QUICK. Two weeks later (thank you NHS for actually being quick) it turns out I’m just fine, but I’d lost some sleep during that fortnight. Now I know where I stand (or, more comfortably, sit or walk) with everything and can just - with gratitude - get on.
My late father’s house is now on the market which brings with it another wave of imminent loss and goodbyes, but he was a practical man and would want things to be done swiftly and efficiently. Ultimately, that opens up new, geographical conversations about our family’s future. But not just yet.
So all those things have been turning over, getting boxes ticked and tasks completed or at least set in motion, and now here I am. Prompted, it seems, to spend some time in my sacred space.
March sees the end of my second Saturn return and it’s been a ride. I feel a little as if these last couple of months have been the exam at the end of a gruelling threeish years - how much have I actually learnt and taken on board? Honestly? So much that I can’t quite hold it all at once. Everything has changed, even if much remained the same, simply brighter, shinier, more solid.
We’re never finished with growing and learning, but I do feel as if I’ve graduated from a major stage of Life School. What next in a world that still mostly considers me past it, dull, obsolete and irrelevant? Well I can say for sure that those opinions don’t matter. #whatevs. Those voices are far behind me and I guess we’re mutually irrelevant. I have stuff to do.
Time in my sacred space is the pre-game prep for me and I will be taking that time. I’m feeling the energy; the metaphysical; the spiritual; the other dimensions. There’s a conversation to be had, for sure.
Perhaps it’s starting already. The Sacred Space card is from MJ Cullinane’s Urban Crow Oracle. Each morning I also pull - or have selected for me - cards from her Crow Tarot. I have one from this deck that keeps coming back - The Star. It’s a beautiful card and today jumped out onto the table with The Devil. Am I watching too much Lucifer for the crows’ liking? Quite possibly. But I think it was appropriate. And just as an aside…how bloody gorgeous are these cards?
Other things that have my attention:
I read Midnight’s Children in 1985, falling in love with Salman Rushdie’s writing. I’d never read anything like it and that was it…magical realism was my thing. Forever. By the time he released The Satanic Verses, I was deep in a relationship with an Iranian man. Interesting times; thankfully long gone for me, tragically not so much for Rushdie. This week I bought Victory City and I’m about halfway through. I am always surprised, always delighted by Rushdie’s writing and this latest book - published as he surfaces after surviving that murder attempt - is no exception. Joy.
Six Tiny Stories About Sheep by Tom Cox. More joy. With added wool.
Tom Welling taking a major sort of guest spot in Lucifer. I remembered him from Smallville, many years ago and, I’ll admit, wasn’t convinced of his acting abilities. His scenes with the other Tom on this show are yet more joy and he has considerable screen presence, as befits his role and the story arc in which he features. Great fun. (I over-invest in and over-analyse my favourite shows and I don’t care. It makes me happy.)
Taking a moment to wonder if there might be a character called Tom in Rushdie’s book because a pattern appears to be emerging.
Closet Confessions with Sarel and Candice. The last of Season One and big thanks for the news that there will be a Season Two (with some major sponsors if there is any sense in the world). The weekly medicinal laughter these women have given me is priceless. Weeping with it, cheeks aching, while doing the supermarket shop, but also learning, listening and nodding along. My life is very different to Sarel and Candice’s in so many ways, but then again, not so much. #As_a_man. If you know you know.
I saw my first butterfly of the year. The 14th reported in Wiltshire.
This music: (EDITED: the Substack app struggles with this embed so here’s a link too: Goldmund)
(If you’re also a Sarah Blondin fan some of this will be beautifully familiar.)
Have a good weekend everybody. x
As the crow flies
Love this! I am actually in a hotel room waiting to return to the pool to watch my niece swim for her college. I am distracted by my family that is hunkered down in their own rooms. I can't relax, knowing that I have to leave. I too am interested in making money. I homeschooled my kiddos and have been home for 24 years. It's time to make some real money. It is hard to reenter into a world that I never felt at home in. I am trying to start my own business online, but that brings all its own challenges. Thanks for the beautiful post.
Right about now a hotel room with nice sheets, room service and quiet would be very welcome.