Dear reader of signs,
Today has been a useful reminder about how expectations can narrow your perception. And, that I can figure out a lesson in every day of my ‘Reading the Signs’ June challenge!
I went to bed very late last night, so I saw the strawberry full moon as it was dipping toward the horizon, a light, rosy circle, like an unripe berry.
Since it was a Sunday morning I cut myself some slack for not rising as early as I planned, and also some credit for not sleeping in late, which was my preference.
To surprise me, The Queen of Arrows from the Wild Wood Tarot, popped up.
As is the way sometimes, I was unsure what to make of this card in relation to me, apart from the fact it’s standing in for the Queen of Swords, so it’s a card about authority, intellect and sharp perception. This swan looks wary, as if ready to defend herself.
After pulling this I did some reorganisation work and prep for writing for the coming week. In a way I was trying to make the day fit the sign. What’s a smart lady to do on a Sunday morning but get ahead of schedule?
I indulged in frivolous activities later, yet as the long day wore on I left the house and went to the park that’s close to Galway Bay.
Part of me was waiting for some swan-shaped image to flap into my evening. I often listen to podcasts when driving or walking, since it feels like a practical way to use my time. Yet, sometimes on walks I turn off the conversation and allow myself to be in nature, observing and admiring it, rather than being vaguely aware of my surroundings while voices piped into my head debate issues. Sometimes I have enough noise in my head without adding other narratives.
I pondered what it must be like to be a creature that lives most of its life on the water, and how that must shape your existence. For swans life is movement and variation. Rivers dry up and flood, tides rise and fall, winds change hourly. They migrate, fledge cygnets, and glide past humans taking photos of them.
They adjust and accept what happens. Above the surface there is beauty and calm, while below all the work is going on.
I shaded my eyes against the sunset, regarded the collection of boats anchored in the bay, and remembered my recent short trip to the Aran islands, across the choppy Atantic ocean.
At one point I was up on the deck of the small ferry, my arms braced on a railing against my back, sun beating down and salt spray flying up, and I moved in synch with the see-saw action. The only way to avoid being quesy was to accept the motion.
So I gave up on needing my ‘swan affirmation’. I realised this was not the point of the exercise. Being fixated on a literal symbol was a grasping, narrow mentality. It didn’t allow for other intreptations or for a different perspective.
Instead, I surrendered to the magic of dusk.
On the drive back I listened to a podcast, and just as I was nearing home one of the women talked about the most helpful way to offer advice. Listen attentively, and don’t rush to speak. Keep your response succinct. ‘Chose your arrow of clarity carefully so it hits the target.’
I laughed. I had thought swan, swan, swan all day, and ignored other symbols and elements - such as arrows, air, and insight.
How easily we limit our awareness.