I’ll give anything for resolve
I intended to pull only one card, but the Devil came flying out of the deck during the shuffle. Uh oh. The top card was Temperance. Double uh oh.
Yes, today was the trope of the angel and the devil whispering in my ear, arguing with one another, pulling me in two directions.
I feel divided. It’s not a good feeling. When I don’t like a feeling, I have a tendency to either ruminate over it excessively or become destructive, essentially setting off a bomb to make it go away—in terms of tarot, this is triggering a Tower moment in order to get to the other side of it.
Both have the same goal, which is for the feeling to resolve or dissipate.
I’ve done the destructive thing far too often, and while it can be fun and exciting to set fire to my own life, it usually makes things more complicated in a way that doesn’t feel totally honest to the situation.
Call it self-sabotage. I often envision this secret version of myself with a bloody, psychotic grin—perhaps a figurative knife in hand. I mean, who doesn’t love being off the rails once in a while?
Yet, I have lived in near-perpetual collapse over the past six months, and I’m feeling pretty exhausted by it.
Those changes were largely out of my control, and in writing this, I realize that the destructive tendency is really just about control and (seemingly) getting to choose when things detonate instead.
Temperance means moderation, the avoidance of excess or extremes.
Turning a page
Today marks the first month since my ‘soft’ move to LA. This weekend, I finally brought the rest of my belongings here.
It feels so good to sleep in my own bed again. However, my immediate instinct was to run the fuck away, maybe to Mexico or somewhere else I could disappear to as soon as possible.
My move is now official. *deep breaths*
I live here. All my stuff is here. Thus, a new chapter in my life begins again.
But pulling these angel and devil cards is about more than the move. I’m still going through a lot of other shit. My heart is raw AF and full of longings for futures that may or may not arrive.
Temperance is about waiting for the opportune moment, letting go of attachment to outcomes, and trusting in divine timing. Don’t take the cupcakes out of the oven too soon.
The Devil is about bondage but not in the hot way. The Devil asks us to identify what we cannot break free of, and it reminds us that it’s merely an illusion.
It mirrors the Lovers card, depicting two lovers bound loosely enough to the Baphomet’s post that they can easily remove the chains and walk away.
T. S. Eliot, in The Waste Land, writes:
Dayadhvam: I have heard the key
Turn in the door once and turn once only
We think of the key, each in his prison
Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison
The prison is only made real by believing in it.
I find that tarot often confronts us about mindset, how perspective shapes reality.
The Devil reminds us that we can leave the cage at anytime. These imprisoning mindsets are often (if not always) based on conditioning. Did the prison ever really exist? Or did we simply believe it to?
Like the Lovers card, the Devil is also about choice; I’d say they’re about external and internal choice, respectively. Or perhaps the conscious versus the unconscious.
Temperance is also about choice. It asks us to abandon comfort for a higher purpose, one that we might not immediately understand—that is to say, stepping out of comfort zones, habits, and patterns. It is an avenue through which we break cycles.
That T. S. Eliot quote is apt for Temperance, as well, as it begins with the Sanskirt word, Dayadhvam, typically translated to “compassion.” It’s an allusion to the Upanishads, which reads by one translation:
“Without [self-control, charity, and compassion,] one becomes the slayer of oneself.”
What possibilities do we miss in vain attempts to control that which cannot be controlled?
I think of the Serenity Prayer:
“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
Sitting in the fire
I was texting with my friend, Jillian, about some recent disappointments I faced in this transition, and she responded with something so wise and simple, that it could have been from a Jack Kornfield book:
“The most rewarding and life-changing personal developments usually don't arise out of feeling good, they more likely arise out of feeling uncomfortable and growing through it.”
I copy and pasted it into a note immediately.
This is the energy of the Temperance card. Sit in the fire—let it cook you, let it transform you.
The Devil, despite the name, does not involve sitting in the fire. Rather, this energy keeps people comfortably asleep and encourages delusion. It’s avoidant, and it whispers, don’t look at me. It runs away. Perhaps to Mexico.
Reluctantly landing
My (almost) year of solo travel has fortified me in ways I never thought possible, making me resilient to the fluctuations of the external world—it has been one of the greatest gifts I have given myself, yet it has only encouraged my long-standing avoidance of landing in one place.
I haven’t fully landed somewhere in years. My ex and I were constantly moving and talking about the next place we’d live or visit. That resulted in us living in seven different places from 2019-2022 before packing everything into storage to travel full-time. Before that, I was still traveling at leave five times a year.
I’ve mentioned it before, but I’ve been on the run for years. I just found a partner who colluded with (and probably shared) my avoidance and perpetual dissatisfaction with life.
Now I’ve landed in LA, and I know I’m meant to stay put for this next phase of life. There is something for me in learning to commit to this place. I don’t have to run anymore.
There is a lot I’m shedding and letting go of. I’m unburdening myself. The Devil card reminds me that I can simply unchain myself and walk away from whatever is burdening me. Even in that knowledge of choice, some tension lifts.