Walk boldly through your life with an open, broken heart.
In this week of the Pisces New Moon, we are visited by another Five. Things certainly are not going smoothly these days, are they? As is the case with all Fives, including last week’s Five of Swords, we are dealing once again with conflict and misfortune.
This is a card that is both mysterious and sorrowful. In the R-W-S deck, we have a figure of unknown gender cloaked in black mourning. They are slightly turned away from us, face hidden in grief, gazing at three spilled cups.
While the sky is a rather depressing gray, the river nearby is clear and relatively smooth. There are rolling hills, a castle, and two cups remaining.
The Fives of the Tarot are concerned with strife and sometimes suffering. And of course, Cups represent our emotions, love, dreams, and intuition.
One of the few Tarot cards in the R-W-S deck whose main figure seems deliberately androgynous, this is a reminder that the bitterness of hurt, regret, and grief is universal to all.
Could the three spilled Cups be the celebratory Three of Cups, now dashed? Has this grieving person fallen from grace?
Perhaps he or she has deliberately overturned them. Or has it been due to carelessness that this mishap has occurred?
And what about the colors of the spilled liquids? Are they the orange and red of passion or anger, and the green, perhaps, of jealousy?
But what about the two cups that are waiting behind the figure? Could they be a reminder of the friendship and heart-connection of the Two of Cups? Or is this a partnership yet to be seen by the cloaked mourner?
For, unbeknownst to, or perhaps forgotten by the grieving one, these remaining cups appear to indicate support nearby from friends or a lover.
Once the Hermit-like figure turns to discover the remaining Cups and the bridge that crosses the river of tears and healing, shelter awaits.
New Moon in Sensitive Pisces
Emerging at the far end of the eclipse tunnel at the March 17 Pisces New Moon and the Equinox, you take a deep dive into the world of the soul and the unified field. The glue-like magnetics which held the structures for your old identity are dissolving, revealing new options…
And if this brings us heartbreak, we can allow ourselves to feel it, but we must also trust that it is for the best.
This far-seeing Pisces New Moon is conjunct Chiron, the centaur Shaman, roaming between Saturn and Uranus, between matter and mystery, revealing the otherness of our lives, the world beneath the world.
Illuminating the late degrees of the last sign, this is Alpha and Omega- the bridge to the invisible, infinite Source.
In the first of two defining outer planetary sign shifts in 2018, for the first time since 1968, Chiron is about to cross back and forth over the hot spot world axis Aries Point, bring a reckoning, then a re-patterning, on the level of personal accountability to Self.
And so begins a 9-year process of soul retrieval, powerful new planetary medicine, personal homeopathy, embodiment and psychosynthesis. This is the start of some of the most radically creative times of your life.
The key to transformation is, by definition, when we leave behind what is past, or no longer workable.
And yes, that may break our hearts.
The Cries of the World, The Cries of Our Hearts
Zen poet Thich Nhat Hanh was asked, “What do we most need to do to save our world?”
His answer was, “What we most need to do is to hear within us the sounds of the Earth crying.”
As Joanna Macy writes:
What disintegrates in periods of rapid transformation is not the self, but its defenses and assumptions. Self-protection restricts vision and movement like a suit of armor, making it harder to adapt.
Going to pieces, however uncomfortable, can open us up to new perceptions, new data, and new responses.
Speaking the truth of our anguish for the world brings down the walls between us, drawing us into deep solidarity. That solidarity is all the more real for the uncertainty we face.
Whether your sorrow is global, local, or within the stormy seas of your own heart (or quite possibly all of the above!), it is time to feel what you feel, allow it, and yield to the depth of your humanity.
This week marks the time of the last New Moon of the astrological year. The final New Year’s beginning arrives at Spring Equinox when the Sun moves into the sign of Aries.
This is a powerful wish-making Moon and the time for planting the true heart’s seeds that will emerge as food for the soul in the coming months. But for any seed to sprout, the shell must crack open.
Thus, there is a promise in this card. Love and fellowship patiently await, once we own what we feel, and then let go of what has been irretrievably lost.
Be sure to take all the time you need, to come to your private sense of acceptance. Grieving rushed or buried is just as perilous to our well-being and future choices as despair or hopelessness.
The quiet figure cloaked in black portrays the wisdom of honoring what we are experiencing.
As we have been seeing with the devastating world events of recent months, including the senseless, massive gun violence, public tragedies strike those of us who are sensitive and receptive on a deeply personal level.
This is healthy and as it should be. Our personal intimate anguish, although painful, is vital to whether we truly heal. Only then, can we make any necessary changes.
Let Our Love Be Greater Than Our Grief
The message of this card, as joyless as it first looks, is that rebirth is at hand. This is the great truth: all is not lost.
If you are going through loss or heartbreak, be honest about it, and do not beat yourself up, or hold onto regret. If this is happening to someone dear to you, what kind relief can you offer, once they indicate they are ready to accept it?
What wine of love still remains, waiting to be noticed?
While you may need to grieve, there is life still to be lived, and it points the way towards a bridge you may yet cross.
The Five of Cups promises that as crushed as you may feel, healing and hope have not deserted you. When you are ready, say your goodbyes to your tears, knowing that as you do, the well-watered seeds for tomorrow’s rebirth await you.
Although we may be broken open, let us boldly walk on, with no more turning away.