Summertime Tarot * the Wedge * death

There are lots of nooks and crannies and little corners of the world, and one of those is the Wedge here in Newport Beach, and of which I’ve been frequenting a fair bit this spring, albeit from a relatively safe distance from any of the residual bonecrushing shorepound to be had.

Have also found the brick house hybrid, water polo meets football players, that body up over and next to one another jockeying for ideal entry point unto the hollows, to be of some intrigue. They sport the requisite beards and/or longhairs among them, share a genuine albeit bridled enthusiasm between them, and are no doubt shameless in a speedo, or perhaps of the pea green bottoms on the usually sleeveless long john. Theirs is an agreed upon quiet aplomb, which is a near prerequisite before the merciless inshore pummeling and pounding that is meted out, and without favor nor lament, and save not that they are barrel chested oaks and of human hydroplanes. The Wedge is an atypical wave and crowd, and whether Spicoli stuntman or Adonis aquatic marvel, it is an odd bit of camaraderie here, as the wave is shared by spongers/bodyboarders, bodysurfers, surfers and skimboarders (do yourself a favor and watch the videos).

An ocean wave, or in this case the backdoor rebound off the jetty, bends your reality and focuses your attention. Of pelagic origin, these emanations create a hemispheric balance between right and left sides of the brain. As we sit at soul and sea level, and whereupon our father sky meets our mother ocean, and as our mind’s eye meets our water body of emotion, we do our best to integrate wavefields of energy, and while navigating the tides of change.

Clarity within affords movement without, and as the ocean is naturally healing and emits rarefied energies in the form of negative ions, we find ourselves at the peak of perceptual attunement, and upon our celebration of the solstice, as we again sit at the seashore and slow down, and begin to focus on things of our own volition. We cherish that which we create.

death * thirteen * Voyager Tarot by James Wanless * Way of the Great Oracle

Spawn new life. Our submergence into the darkness of the sea, and in turn our rising out from her sea to a new life, can be a life giving transformation. If we can leave the stag nation behind, and for the relation ship that sits upon our mother ocean, we can simplify things and get to the (hard) core essence. As we move from languish to relish, we find ourselves in synch, in rhythm, and in harmony. Go into the void and empty your mind. Embrace the unbearable lightness of being and take time out for a needed quiet rest period that may bring renewal and regeneration.

Shed what is dead. Consider that the dissolution of obstruction, the breaking up of blockage and constriction, signals the ending of stasis associated with the olde order. Shed that olde skin to be reborn and reLife. The conscious cutting out of things which have become dead and dryfuss, heavy and stagnant, is to get zesty with it. Cut away that ever so American excess.

Let your emos out. Be heartfelt, warm, kind and accommodating. Fast, do yoga and consider to go for a swim or surfabout. Chance to do what’s unfamiliar, what’s taboo for you. These are transformational times. Consider that you are of the re generation. Seek out vast expanses, the oceans, high skies and the desert. As you periodically hibernate, consider to recede some and to let things fall together. Drink Revive (kombucha) and finish things up in October/September.

death wish of our choosing

don’t wait * bring your whole self to every experience * welcome everything, push away nothing * find a place of rest in the middle of things * bring don’t know mind