Knights of Dull Satin

Insight and understanding may surprise us in any form. My sister has taught me that pulling a Tarot card at certain moments has an intuitive power that can comfort and heal better than the most sympathetic ear.



Today’s card for me is the Jack of Wands, reversed. “Picture the young knight, [the inexperienced warrior] at every opportunity, needing to prove his courage and strength, to himself and others…easily thrown from his horse…fragile…the reversed knight sympolizes confusion, disrupted projects, breakdown and disharmony."

How profoundly apt!

Easily my life can be thus personified. The last 30 years—all of my adulthood—has me choosing one of the largest horses in the coral and galloping off, repeatedly remounting, ignoring the bruises. With thin armor, I chose another and another, different horses, different saddles, different corals, continually thrown and bruised.

Intending to hurt no one, only wanting to save the day, I’ve still caused a lot of pain, an errant knight who needed to be reigned in.

It is not all so bad as I write it today, of course. The defining word of “Midlife Crisis” paints it so. In truth, I have wonderful children, have won the heart of a passionate woman. I appreciate that friends and family are in generous support. I have glorious tales of chasing the Grail.

In fact, pages of journals sit in a box in my cellar, untouched and inconsequential. They are thoughts written down which probably have no need for the light of day, no need, in fact, to even rot in damp darkness, but should be burned into memory like the events that inspired them. But I have held onto them as if someday I might achieve some sort of importance that would render them valuable. At the very least—having read letters between relatives in Texas and Pennsylvania discussing their fear of an impending civil war—my own great grandchildren might be interested to know some personal context for the events of this time in history.

A curious phenomena has appeared in this blog process which brings to focus this particular knight’s tale of needing approval. The number of advertising hits is laughably not lucrative (I just broke two dollars!). In the course of the month. Oprah has not sought me out to appear on her show. It contributes little to my daily life , in fact, steals precious hours from the business of providing for my family, or remuneration to my creditors.

Still, several times each day, I peek at the hitlist and celebrate quietly to see that one or two more people have taken a look. A tiny thrill of satisfaction rages through me, something perhaps, like that little boy felt with each bucket of water (of Fathers & Sons).

Then this knight realizes that, by themselves, words fall silently in that cold snowy deserted forest (or rot in the basement). An EMAIL of encouragement is like hot chocolate warming me to write some more. Perhaps these words, this willingness to be an open soul might touch another, might inspire a little more openness, might be just one more snowflake in an incredible avalanche that changes the world. Then would we all be transformed from knights to kings and queens.

And so, once again, I get up on my horse and ride off.

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