By Sarah Taylor
“Be wary of any influence in your environment which dismisses or judges your enthusiasm. Without it, we would become anaesthetised to life itself. Anyone who demands this smallness of you is in danger themselves and may have contracted this insidious, deadening monotone. … Now, more than ever, the world needs your enlargement, your weirdness, your fiery crescendos of rebellion from boring.”
~ Toko-pa Turner
Houston, we have a problem. Or do we? Right now, standing out here, as you are, in a battle zone, the detritus of what has passed strewn around you, the landscape barely habitable — you’re looking to a distant star and wondering how the hell you find yourself right here, right now.
The words painted on the building below you reflect something of what might be going on inside: “Loss,” “afraid.” There is significance in their appearing together. They relate to each other. You have experienced loss, and because of this you are afraid. Afraid it might happen again, afraid of what surfaced in you — in others. Afraid of being alone, standing over the destruction, wishing on a distant star.
Have you stopped to consider a possibility? It’s just a possibility, right. But it might be one worth considering all the same:
Right here, right now might be perfect.
“But how the hell did I get here?” you ask. Things seemed to be going so well. The Three of Disks speaks to this clearly: “Effort,” “Success.” It wasn’t easy, but it felt worthwhile — like you were getting somewhere. You felt weighed down by the responsibility that comes with taking something on with no guarantee of outcome. But you were carrying incredible potential. Nothing less than that, if you consider that what rests on the gold-seamed boulder on your back is the Ace of Disks, pure potential to manifest magic in the world.