Tarot of the Silicon Dawn (Lo Scarabeo 2011) by Egypt Urnash, we have the ever-cheerful 10 of Swords.
This image reminds me of the story of Damocles, a courtier who said to the King how great it must be to have so much. The King sat Damocles on his throne, but not before hanging a sword above it by a single horsehair. The point being that great power and wealth brings great dangers. For those lesser mortals who aren't Kings or CEO's, there's still a message here about what it's like to live in a precarious situation - something which many can understand, I'm sure. Whether it be the risk of losing our jobs, our homes, or a health question that keeps us on tenterhooks, that feeling of not being able to just relax is a sadly common one these days.
In the book, Margaret Trauth (pen-name Egypt Urnash) says that if the woman just stood up she would avoid the peril. Still, I see it somewhat differently. I notice that the other swords are pinning her dress down. If she tried to stand up, it would be difficult. And she might rip her dress, or have to take it off. That feels very exposing. That, along with the notion of swords as communication or ideas, suggests being taunted and publicly humiliated. It feels a bit "damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don't." Feeling stupid or embarrassed, though, is actually a choice - it's all about our own mindset. If we are willing to admit to our weaknesses and mistakes, they cannot be held against us.
Another thing I notice is that she looks as though she's crying, and there's a message tossed to one side. However, blood rather than tears drip between her fingers. Going with the old classics, it feels like she might prefer to gouge her own eyes out than see the message that she is faced with. She might then be hiding behind the ideas represented by those swords, pinned down by her own unwillingness to face the finality of the sword above falling - unwilling to accept the message though it cannot truly be denied. If the Ace of Swords is sometimes seen as the pursuit of truth, this card looks like fleeing from a truth which feels too painful to handle.
Is there something I'm trying not to see? Hmm, maybe. And if I were willing to accept that truth, rather than deny and hide from it, would that actually set me free? Perhaps...
The truth is I hate the situation I find myself in because of my son's health issues: the not knowing what will happen in the future and how we will deal with it; the comparing him to other children and feeling the bitter bite of envy. And sometimes that means I hate him, as the cause of such heartache and anguish. Don't get me wrong, I also love him enormously. If I didn't love him it wouldn't hurt so much to see him in pain, to worry about his future, to know he may never be able to experience many of the things that make life worth living. Such a double-edged sword, this love!
And I realised a couple of days ago that I can't even get in contact with my anger about it - I just deflect it into tears, or into being angry at people who don't really deserve it. Angry at people who don't stop for me at zebra crossings, or who block the pavement inconsiderately, or at my Dear One or my therapist, or the person who serves me at the deli, angry at myself for any silly mistake I make, and angry at parents who don't seem to appreciate the beautiful children they have. Because being angry at my son would feel so wrong - none of this is his fault - and yet the anger is there. Anger at the doctors, anger at the Universe, anger at having to deal with this all the time, with medical equipment and medicines and a routine that needs something to be done for him almost every hour of the day and night. Anger at my sore back from lifting him and adopting awkward positions as I help him try to walk, anger that I have to consider myself "lucky" he can even make the attempt to walk, anger that he may never be able to call me "Mummy".
I'm still not quite sure what to do with all that anger, how to channel it into something productive, or transform it into acceptance and compassion. I just hope that acknowledging it will be the first step...
I am grateful to be able to acknowledge my anger at the situation I am in.