I see yesterday’s Two of Wands as I pick the deck up to cut it again, wistful and sad. On other days, at other times, this card would feel completely different, but there it is. I cut the pack (the Light Seer’s tarot again), and see red.
A powerful and complicated card, inviting me to think about what I desire, what I’m receptive to, what I’d like to be receptive to. What it might benefit me to be receptive to that I don’t want to be. Which of these things will help me to love myself better?
Since I’m doing this journalling as an exercise to try to unravel some of the inner workings of my mind, to feel and see and know my feelings, rather than trying to pull myself out of the spiral, and since that isn’t the course of action (or inaction) that would be my go to, perhaps this is a key thing I can deliberately try to be receptive to. I’ve already noticed, after just a few days, that being deliberate about sitting with myself and paying attention to myself is already making me feel calmer about this period of depression.
Usually these feelings throw me into a bit of a panic. The only coping mechanisms I really have are distraction and denial. When I think a bad thing, stop thinking it. Think of something else. Stop, and distract. Don’t tell people how bad I’m feeling (that would just make it real). Don’t let myself think it. Pretend things are okay. Listen to podcasts, watch tv shows, read fanfiction, write fanfiction, write original fiction. Anything to not be in the thoughts. And when they do arrive, there’s the panic again.
But loving myself, well, how loving is it, really, if there’s a whole part of myself I won’t let myself look at?
A note here, that this is progress. Just being able to talk about the possibility of loving myself is huge for me. There was a time when I would have physically recoiled from typing those words. Now I can write them as though they’re simply a good thing to aspire to, instead of an impossible star a trillion light years away that I’m a bad person for even daydreaming about.
So, for today, let’s take The Lovers as an invitation to keep feeling my way towards the still distant, but no longer forbidden, star of loving myself. And, more immediately, as an affirmation that I’m doing good work. This sitting with my feelings, prodding and poking at them in these journal entries, feels right. If The Lovers love me; this way, perhaps one day I can do the same.