When my kids were growing up, weirdness was a bit of theme. Hell, it's been a bit of theme all my life. My kids were bound to get caught up in it.
My biggest problem has always been a conflict between wanting to fit in and be accepted and railing - sometimes vehemently - against convention. My motto is: question everything! Not to judge or put down, rather to understand. I'm genuinely curious and I want to know why. Why do people do, think and say the things they do? Why is the world the way it is? Why do people accept certain things and reject others? Why!? It's gotten me into some trouble over the years and after 53 of them, I still don't know.
I became aware that I didn't see things the way others did in my teens. While my friends were listening to the Bay City Rollers, I was infatuated by Dr. Hook, Long John Baldry and Neil Young. There were no pin-up posters of the days' hotties on my bedroom walls. Instead there were Doodle Art and black light posters. Kites hung from my ceiling and incense burners were stashed in my drawers because they were forbidden by my father. I got an eye-twitch listening to my friends fantasize about their future weddings. My dream was to buy a mural-ed van and drive across Canada in it with my black cat, Ebony, before going to university to study philosophy, literature, religious philosophy and English. I was going to be a writer.
I was also going to be a Tarot Reader!
Life didn't quite turn out that way. Due to circumstances beyond my control I ended up in Houston and there the Universe promptly stuck a pin in my bubble, bursting it wide open. I felt helpless to staunch the lifeblood of my dreams from spilling out and dissipating like so much smoke into the ether. It would be decades before the new bubble of resentment, anger and blame I harboured would finally dissolve into awareness of my own complicity. Where was the freaking pin, then, Universe?
The upside of the choices I made are embodied in three incredible young women; my daughters. They are the reward the Universe gave me for the sacrifices I made so long ago. Alison, Tracy and Bizz are the great works of art that I helped author, sculpt and paint... No. That's not quite right. They are the great works of art that I helped provide with ink and clay and pigment so they could create themselves.
Yes!
In my daughter's blog about being weird, she introduces herself to the world as a professional Tarot Reader. I, too, am a Tarot Reader.
At a the tender age of 12(ish) I somehow became aware of the Tarot and was fascinated by it. Seventy-eight elaborately illustrated cards filled with symbolism and mysticism and wonder! I desperately wanted to get a deck and, with it, change the world. It would be another sixteen years before I finally allowed myself to delve into the Tarot and begin to learn its secrets. I collected decks and books and I read and practiced and studied and then, one day, I offered to do a reading for someone else. What a pivotal moment for me! What a huge and scary and heartbreaking moment that was. Yes, another bubble, another pin. Another WTF moment. (But that is another story for another blog.)
Suffice it to say that I persevered. I kept learning. I kept trying. Eventually, I found my stride and found moderate success with it. The problem was not the Universe this time. The problem was me. I was, just like my daughter, ashamed of what I was. I was afraid of being judged and condemned for it. I was terrified that, in this little, conventional, red-necked, narrow-minded town, I would be branded a... madwoman!
Well, I'm here to tell you, I intend to let my madness play!
Like the Fool in the Major Arcana, I'm ready to take a leap of faith.
Brand me any way you like, I am a Tarot Reader, and I'm open for business!
If you would like to read my daughter's blog about being weird, you can find it here: http://etherealearth.ca/blog/2015/11/15/why-it-pays-to-be-weird/
Follow me on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/prairiewyndstarot.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Please feel free to comment. Keep it clean and keep it positive. I welcome constructive criticism, but hateful or nasty comments won't make it past moderation. Have a magical day!