Float
The turbulence of Gemini Season
Dear Friends,
This morning I’m thinking about being untethered. If the timeline of our lives overlaps with the independent rotations of the planet, they do not synchronize perfectly. Where sometimes we are submerged into its current, taken where it wants us to go, at other times we experience something more disorienting, as if we’ve been knocked off the world’s axis. The earth, of course, keeps on spinning. We are perhaps stuck in the ozone somewhere, trying to paddle back to a place where we’d become integrated once more. Any kind of thing can cause this sensation, where the world’s seasons move and our private seasons don’t. But I think the most prominent example is grief.
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My favorite tarot reader has a new book out, which I truly can’t wait to read. Before I get there, I’ve been thinking about one of the practices or methods the author developed, which is around the idea of “anchor cards.” Rather than drawing cards in a spread that asks questions, working with anchors is about channeling the energy of specific archetypes that you sense on a deep level you need in order to face whatever’s happening to you.
As I understand it, “working with” these cards is about reflecting on what it would mean to be (or channel)—for example—the King of Pentacles in your own situation. Right now, how could you internalize and express that kind of charitable energy? What would it look like to step up and be of service without having to be told what to do? If that is, indeed, what’s needed?
Gemini season is always a wild ride. Some years this has meant elation and reprieve, a reminder of everything I was missing during the school year. Some years, I’ve been too busy to appreciate what’s happening. This year, I am thinking about what kind of archetypes could keep me strong in turbulent winds. Or maybe solidity is only the feeling I’m after; maybe a flexible sail boat, lithe and alive, would be the way to get me there. Which tarot card does that sound like to you?
Gratitude (for) | Attention (to)
The lowest covid levels since March 2020. Remember when Fauci said that we’d need to get to around 10,000 daily infections before life could return to a level of normality? We’ve never come close. Even at this low level, infections are in the hundreds of thousands. Yet this is a cautionary and somewhat remarkable good sign, one we haven’t experienced in six years.
(On that front, I am following this news with interest.)
Though no healthcare in this country is good, I am cognizant these days of my luck in having 1) a solid plan, 2) a convenient location for services, and 3) enough time and headspace to go get them. The last time I had all three was in 2022, though I know that still makes me lucky indeed.
Genuine spring weather in Boston, both hot and cold and at various points throughout each day. I almost didn’t remember it was possible to not be fucking freezing or absolutely melting in the heat. Magical.
Seeing E for 90 minutes and weird tonkatsu sandwiches.
Seeing Hannah for a little bit with more on the way.
Visiting Saratoga and remembering each time/always that it is possible to create a wide and deep community, even in this stage of capitalism, even in the suburbs.
A secret special gift I received, almost like a list of instructions for adveturing that has has delivered me to much whimsical enjoyment in May, very much needed.
Cry hard gooses