I’ve picked up the regular daily practice of drawing three cards first thing in the morning. I write down the cards and what I think they mean, and at the end of the day I go back and reflect on the day in light of what the cards said. This morning, what they said was “big important things are afoot, but nothing is happening yet.” and I sighed and felt frustrated. I felt frustrated because I thought this morning’s reading was saying “Here comes another unproductive day!” and it’s felt like a long string of unproductive days.
For some reason it was only this morning that I put it together and read through the last few weeks’ worth of morning draws. Over and over – almost every day. “The seed is planted; the work has begun, but no fruition yet.” “Do not expect much of anything to happen today, but remember that great things are happening!” Themes of incubation and expectation. And of course, that’s what this season is about – the time from Imbolc to Ostara is one big waiting room, and I’m sitting here waiting. I remind myself that what sometimes feels like idleness is simply preparation. I only wish I knew what I was preparing for.
Last night, I had my third reiki class. We’re still working on self-treatment and we started the session with a guided meditation – the usual go-to-your-safe-space-and-meet-a-guide-and-ask-a-question. There was absolutely no reason for me to let my teacher know that I’ve done this one a bazillion times and led it half a bazillion times – it’s always helpful for me and I didn’t want to throw her off her game. So I closed my eyes, and went to a safe space, and met a guide. It was a moose this time – I felt like he was another instance of Deer, but for some reason he showed up as a moose. I asked him my question – “How do I deal with my anxieties about the future?”
His response (paraphrased because of course these answers don’t actually show up as a block of text, at least for me) was that of course difficult things were going to happen to me. Changes would come and some of them would be hard. Of course, since I’m a living human, these things will come because that’s life and there’s no getting out of it. Everything changes, not all changes are easy, and that’s all there is to it. But, he said, that’s not the source of your anxiety. You already know this. The anxiety comes from not trusting yourself to do what is right through the changes. You don’t trust yourself to meet these things well. Nobody else takes care of you; you’re an adult, there is no parent out there to make sure that the things that must be done are done. It’s just you, and you’re afraid that this isn’t enough. If you want to be less anxious, take better care of yourself. Parent yourself better. Show that frightened part of yourself that it’s all ok, you’ve got it covered, and that you’re ready for whatever comes. He said, you don’t have to conquer the world just yet, but if you want to not be afraid you have to stand up for yourself.
Later in the class, we did a self-scanning – a long, slow, energetic scan of the body. I was entertained by a voice I started hearing about a third of the way through the practice. It was the voice of a somewhat petulant old woman nagging me about my health. Unlike the moose, this is not a paraphrase – she was very clear about everything. “Ooh, you’ve been drinking too much coffee; don’t you think you should cut down?” “Hmph, gall bladder, it’s fine for now but at your age you ought to think about it more.” “Cut down on the sugar, it’s not good for you!” It was mostly just funny, until we got down around the lower abdomen. She stopped muttering and nagging and said, “Good god, girl, were you just going to let that go? Why are you ignoring this?” and I became aware that there was indeed pain there. “Start taking vitex now. Every day, for at least the next three cycles. You need to do something about this now unless you really like suffering. “
So I went home and took some vitex tincture (Vitex agnus-castus). I don’t have any of the tincture as a simple, though I do have a bag of dried vitex berries from last summer. I’ll stop at the liquor store for some tincturing spirit and get those brewing tonight. The warning was so very clear and so emphatic, and if I don’t follow it I suspect she’ll yell at me again the next time I do a self-scan. Plus I don’t actually like suffering. I thought of going to the doctor for a checkup, but “I have some vague pain in my lady-bits that a voice in my head said might be something serious” is not likely to go anywhere helpful beyond a pat on the head and a recommendation for some Motrin and maybe some Xanax.