Posted tagged ‘Three of Blades’

Tri-Sacred Blades Come ‘Round Again

March 18, 2015

I’ve picked these three cards before, and here they are again. I keep dreaming about cats since dear Mr. Stitch died in December, and last night I had a dream about cuddling my favourite cat of all time, Mr. Tweed.

Mr. Aloysius Tweed, also known as Ginger Ted; Tweedie; Tweeter, Beeter Beeps; The Beepers; Beeps; Constable Tweed of the Investigation Squad; died at the age of 18 from old age and diabetes in 2000. He did not have an easy death, as with most people and animals. In the dream he was young and I was picking him up from boarding at someone’s house while I was away, and I had him in a blanket and we were cuddling. I was walking around and he sat in my arms, quite placid, and not wanting to jump down.

Always remember:

The Investigation Squad
Is on the move,
On the job!

So I thought I’d do a Tri-Sacred draw to see what was up with the cats in dreams situation.

3 BLADES (3 of Swords)
3 OF SPADES
THREE OF BLADES

TriSacredMar18_15

The Tarot of the Absurd always reminds me of taking flight and being anchored, but if you notice, the blades are cutting, perhaps painful but perhaps also a release so flight can take place.

The Diary of a Broken Soul card seems rather ominous, she is cutting herself, which is often a release for people amid their emotional pain. There is also the suggestion that the pain might be created by you, and worse than the reality truly is. We can get mired in these patterns of degrading ourselves and thinking of ourselves as worthless and deserving of being outcast.

The Ironwing card…I find myself drawn to the window today, reminding me of old attics of memories where you might be trapped looking out through cracked windows at the rain; like a ghost, you haunt the attic of memory. Lorena refers to the trident as having “double-bladed words of truth” which echoes the idea of words making things difficult when situations aren’t as bad as you think.

As you age, memories often do crop up, it’s very hard to pull yourself away from the attic window some days amid new changes and people, music, everything new in the world. You can have a pleasant visit but then get locked in that attic.

I think for me, all the cats I have lived with remind me of youth and cheerier times, or at least healthier times, when we gardened a lot and life was ahead of us and our cats kept us company. We were all young together, so it is perhaps about cats but also perhaps about being young, letting that go.

I discovered a poet I hadn’t known about named William Stafford, an American who died in 1993. He writes poems about nature and small moments, the every day moments. I have ordered an anthology of his work from the library. I don’t have the money to buy books now, so the library comes in handy. While browsing him online I saw a poem that reverberated with me. It seemed to go well with my insomnia and dreams.

WAKING AT 3 A.M.
by William Stafford

Even in the cave of the night when you
wake and are free and lonely,
neglected by others, discarded, loved only
by what doesn’t matter–even in that
big room no one can see,
you push with your eyes till forever
comes in its twisted figure eight
and lies down in your head.

You think water in the river;
you think slower than the tide in
the grain of the wood; you become
a secret storehouse that saves the country,
so open and foolish and empty.

You look over all that the darkness
ripples across. More than has ever
been found comforts you. You open your
eyes in a vault that unlocks as fast
and as far as your thought can run.
A great snug wall goes around everything,
has always been there, will always
remain. It is a good world to be
lost in. It comforts you. It is
all right. And you sleep.

Push with your eyes till forever comes.

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Tri-Sacred Blades of Delusion

October 12, 2014

My insomnia has become so bad and now I have all over nerve pain from head to ankles, layered over chronic muscle tension, pelvic and knee pain. Today I am fasting. I have had some fresh fruit juice, but I’m mostly drinking room temperature plain water or warm water with a bit of fresh lemon.

I always look to the Ironwing Tarot first with regard to health. For some reason it has that ability to look at what’s really going on. I know it’s food and perhaps additives, preservatives, weight gain but…

THREE OF BLADES (3 of Swords)
3 OF BLADES
3 OF SPADES

TriSacredOct12

The shrikes and thorns (shrikes impale their prey on thorns) are like immediate stabbing pain. The trident carries with it double-bladed words of truth, it cuts through illusions that are obstacles. The trefoil window shows one pane missing, one cracked, and one broken.

I resonated with this thought from Lorena:

“Even the fear of ‘What if…?’ is exposed as a delusion.

I thought it would be interesting to explore the exact meanings of delusion and illusion. That’s the Blade of intellect and analysis kicking in. Rightly so.

Delusion = Latin deludere = de = from, away + ludere = to play; To mislead or deceive the mind.

Illusion = Latin illusio = mocking, deceit; comes from illudere = to make sport of; comes from in=toward, against + ludere = to play.

In the Tarot of the Absurd, with wings flying off, this angel seems to be all sinew and self-stabbing defeatism. The knives cause pain and cut his anchor.

In the Diary of a Broken Soul Tarot, the woman in the 3 of Spades seems to be sacrificing herself at the altar of pain. She has dressed it up with candles and pretty clothes, but she is still sacrificing herself.

Delusions mislead, illusions make fun of you or you play against yourself perhaps. Not actually nice things to do to yourself, are they?

Maybe that’s the message here: that I can’t pretend or I mock myself. Either do it or don’t do it, heal or die, but don’t go around in this continual loop of delusion regarding health.