Tidbit #1: The Death Card, Again…
Last night I asked one of the readers from the shop, Amber, to pull a tarot card for me. Well, to be more specific, I said I wanted a reading. Amber is one of our readers that was participating in Working Women’s Wednesday, sponsored by Q108. Amber was kind enough to oblige me and pulled a single card from her deck. Bet you can guess which one. With all the transformation happening in my life it wasn’t surprising that the death card came around again, though I have to say I was hoping I was further along my transformational journey. Most people have the misconception that the death card is an evil card that means you or someone you know is about to kick the bucket. While it might mean that, depending on the cards around it, for the most part, meaning 95% of the time, the death card is talking about transformation.
Transformation is a type of death. It is death of the old, moving into the new. Sometimes we don’t want to move out of the old, but that doesn’t really matter. The Universe is going to move us for our highest good. We can dig our heels in all we want that will just make it take longer, maybe. Though I might hope that I have moved through my transformation stage I know there is at least one more area of my life that hasn’t yet been addressed. The death card coming back up was simply the Universe’s way of reminding me that my work is not yet done. No resting yet! So thank you Amber for the reminder! And in case some of you might have forgotten, we have work to do!
Tidbit #2: Facebook
This is more of a quick note, than a tidbit. ‘Ritas and Rants is getting a Facebook page! I have heard from many of you that you would like to leave comments on the blog, but don’t want to sign up for blogger. No problem! I have started setting up a fan page and you can leave your comments there. It will give me a chance to interact with you all better as well. Hopefully, we will be up and running next week. I’ll keep you all up to date!
Leaving the Light On
For as long as I can remember I have been terrified of tornados. I always found that slightly ironic since I am an air sign, but maybe there is some innate knowing inside of me that understands the destructive side of my sign. I can remember when I was little, living in our little house in Madison, Wisconsin and hearing the sirens go off. I ran around the house in tears trying to herd our cats to the safety of the basement. By the time I finally got them rounded up, the sirens had already turned off. As an adult some of that fear has translated into respect for the power of nature. Living in the Kentucky and Tennessee area certainly didn’t lessen my fear of tornados. I went from living in a state which had only a slight chance of tornados and everybody had a basement, to living in a state where tornados could be counted on and there are no basements, at least few and far between. This past year I have noticed a significant change in my attitude toward this destructive force of nature. What caused the change I’m not sure, maybe it was just the realization that if I am destine to die by tornado, then I’m going to die by tornado, not a lot you can do about that. The first seven years I lived in the south we had houses with no basements. The best shelter we had was a walk-in closet or a bathroom, not exactly comforting. For the first time since I moved to this area I have a basement, while this does bring some comfort it’s minor. The fact that technology now enables me to get weather alerts on my cellphone and text messages from APSU saying take shelter immediately helps as well. Before when bad weather would hit I would start tossing cats in the walk-in closet and hope like hell the storm would pass. The last time we had a major storm I woke up checked my phone for the time and went back to sleep. Okay, not the smartest thing I admit, guess I was just tired that night. If I had to pick between eminent death and sleep, I was picking sleep. That might be a sign that I’m getting old. J
Two nights ago we had another bad spring storm come stomping its way through, Clarksville. I’m not sure why, but this one bothered me. In a way it made me revert back to those deep childhood fears. It might have been the lack of text messaged warnings, or the silence of the sirens, I don’t know, but something was scaring the hell out of me. I was tired enough that I could have slept, but there was something in the sound of the wind that kept me awake. After one particularly strong gust of wind shook the house I got up and turned on the living room light. In a way I felt childish and dumb. What the hell good was that going to do? Was that so I could see the tornado coming? I didn’t really care about the reason why, I just knew that I want that light on. I went back to bed and left my bedroom door wide open. I also lit the candle on my nightstand just in case we lost power. Every time the wind would slam into the house I would focus on that light. Somehow, even though I knew there was nothing that light could do, just having it on to look at brought me comfort. Maybe it was that scared little girl that herded cats to the basement that wanted to see the light, or maybe it was the adult me who didn’t feel like putting on a brave face that night.
That was what really got me about that night. Here I was scared of a storm. I was an adult; I wasn’t supposed to be scared of things like the wind. But the truth remained that I was afraid. Sometimes I think we are so busy putting on a front to everyone that we forget that it’s okay to be afraid. I had to remind myself that even adults have permission to be afraid. About an hour and a half later, I was extremely tired. The sirens had still not gone off, and the phone was silent as well. I decided that the storm had pretty well blown itself out. I turned out the light in the living room, welcoming the return of the darkness. I decided to keep the candle lit on the nightstand just in case. A comfort to my slumbering mind. A little light in the dark.
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