I had a strange week, which is why I’ve written less than usual. Actually, I’ve been writing a lot of poetry instead. I’ve also been reading cards and reflecting, but it was such a deeply internal process that I did not feel compelled to share it.
One of the cards that kept catching my attention this week is the Three of Wands, so it was no surprise when I pulled it this morning. It felt right.
There is a distinct shift happening for me right now, and it’s left me feeling ungrounded, I think in a good way. It’s like the foundation has peeled up a bit—just enough.
There’s certainly a change on the horizon.
I had developed a routine since being back in L.A., one I genuinely enjoyed. But this past week, I totally lost my routine—in part, because I had to pick up bread and almond milk to complete the routine; in part, because something shifted inside me that no longer relied on it.
Externally, the next major shift on the horizon is great news: that I got a new job, much to my relief. I start in a few days, and that also means my routine will have to change regardless.
Getting back into the groove of four walls and a nine-to-five is going to be strange, I think, especially after how much has changed since I was last working.
I welcome the stability it’s going to bring. Perhaps it will even give me something to focus on besides the grief and disappointment(s) I’ve been ruminating over these past six months.
The Three of Wands is often known as the card of “waiting for your ships to come in.” The person depicted is a merchant waiting on the arrival of his cargo. Will it arrive? Likely, yes. When? Soon, but it’s also unknown. But still, he waits.
This card brings a sense of hope. My ships are coming in. I am waiting. I keep my eyes set on the future.
My heart waits, too. It waits for these burdens to lift. I know change is impending. I don’t know what exactly is around the corner or how much longer I will carry this weight, but I still wait and wait and wait.
From “Marina” by T. S. Eliot:
Between one June and another September.
Made this unknowing, half conscious, unknown, my own.
…
Living to live in a world of time beyond me; let me
Resign my life for this life, my speech for that unspoken,
The awakened, lips parted, the hope, the new ships.
I am so ready to awaken from everything this past year has been. I’m ready to shake the dust.
As I wrote that last sentence, I unconsciously picked up a random card deck that was next to me and split it in half, revealing another Three of Wands. This one, instead, had flowers.
I took it as a symbol.