YOU ARE THE OCEAN

I had a dream the night before last, the longest night of the year and just as we entered the Winter Solstice here in the South. I want to share it with you as we prepare our nervous systems for the emotional initiation of Cancer Season. I asked Tarot to help me describe it, and was presented with these cards.

THE HIGH PRIESTESS, VII of WANDS, VIII of WANDS, VIII of SWORDS, QUEEN of PENTACLES

I was riding a bicycle, busily running errands from a list a mile long. I was due to help pack boxes for a friend moving house, then off to another’s to take their dog to the vet. I don’t drive a car, so I was memorising the number for a taxi driver who allows pets to ride and had driven the big woofer many times. The wind whistled through my hair and my mind rattled like my spokey-dokes, as I mentally coordinated the agenda for the day. I unconsciously zipped through the familiar streets but I must have taken some wrong turns and soon, I didn’t know where I was. “Fuck. I’m lost. And I’m late.”

“Find water,” I thought, “you need to find the bay so you know where you are and which direction to take.” My anxiety had my steering falter, and I began to zig zag like an amateur. I cursed myself all the way. “You can’t even ride a bike. You're such a loser. You can't even help your friends when they need you. You’re an Idiot.” my anger swelled as my heart rate rose. Riding up a steep hill with a tight chest and palms sweating, the shimmering blue of the water finally came into view on the horizon. I pumped my pedals in frustration “Hurry up.”

I pulled up to the beach, but it wasn't the soft sand and placid ripple of the bay I was expecting. Instead, the coast was an endless sprawl of black stones washed by the rolling and crashing waves of the open sea. As I got closer I realized that the rocks had been stacked into a multitude of walkways, fences and arcades, like the evidence of a lost city uncovered by an archeological dig. I needed directions. Straining my eyes in search of help, I could make out the silhouette of a woman hanging sheets on a clothesline in one of the courtyards further along the coast. I dumped my bike and followed a narrow pathway into the maze of stones to find her.

Flinders Back Beach

As I made my way through the labyrinth, the beauty of my surroundings began to overwhelm my senses. The clear sky and bright sun made the wet stones glisten like black beetle shells. The sound of the crashing waves on the shore beat my chest in an orchestral pulse. The tide was coming in.

The woman turned from the clothesline and stopped me from further approach with her stern gaze as the white sheets whipped and flapped all around her. She picked up her wicker washing basket and balanced it on her hip. She shielded her brow from the sun's glare with the other hand and took a closer look at me.

Without a word she pointed out to the open sea, the roaring waves of the fast approaching tide as big as houses now. The swelling anger from the ride over that had clenched its fists around my throat and heart had finally loosened its grip. I began crying, heaving and screaming with the roll and release of the powerful water.

THE CHARIOT VII is CANCER

When I awoke the next day, I learned that my Nanna had died. We didn’t have a relationship as adults, and I’m finding the loss difficult to reconcile. She was a distant woman, and lived her whole life by the corrosive and harsh waters of the back beach. Is it selfish to feel abandoned again? Can I grieve the loss of a relationship that never existed the way I would have liked it to? Am I allowed to be angry at those that have passed? Perhaps I’ll take the hints she offered me in my dreams. In the Tarot, the Cardinal Water Sign Cancer is represented by The Chariot VII.

Nothing is braver than facing emotional intensity, and it is our fate as humans to feel them in the order they roll in. Irritability and anger will often give way to fear, sorrow, grief, and then perhaps love. When my busted Chariot brought me to my Nanna for our final audience, she directed my attention back out to sea. I didn’t know my Nanna, but I do know that she survived through a tremendously hard life. I’m glad she offered me a glimpse into her depth during her final hours.

Feel it all friends, don’t skip a stage. You’ll find your way back to love once you ride those tougher waves. Tada Nan. I love you heaps.