12/12/12—Righting a Past Wrong

Today's Draw: The Daughter of Swords from the Wild Unknown Tarot. Have you ever gotten a second chance to right some bad karma you created for yourself with a partner? Do you ever look back on ways you've treated yourself and others with sorrow or regret? Whatever happened to your most passionate lover?

It's interesting that the "classic" post I chose for yesterday was one about gathering all the little bits of "stardust" or clues that present in your life to point you toward where you need to go. Because little did I know at the time...less than 24 hours ago...that a bunch of dust was accumulating to lead me to a shocking revelation—one that I'm sure I'll be processing for some time. 

Twenty years ago I had a "fated" relationship with a guy named Jack. We were absolutely meant to be in each others' lives, but that didn't mean our relationship would be a good or healthy one. It was one of those "can't live with him, can't live without him" relationships—passionate, intimate, hungering. It lasted for the better part of two years and, ultimately, it wrote upon the soul of who I was in ways both good and bad.

Jack was a talented artist. And there was a pastel he had done as a teenager of a tiger that was really beautiful. It was a focal piece in his apartment and it meant a lot to him. To me, it had become symbolic of him. 

Jack wasn't a good financial steward. And when our relationship was deteriorating, he needed money. I gave it to him for the tiger. It wasn't a kind move on my part as much as it was opportune. I knew, somewhere inside me, I wanted that tiger simply because it meant so much to him. He had taken so much of me in that relationship, now I was taking something of him. I hate admitting that, but that's where I was at the time. 

The tiger has always had a place on a wall in my home, not unlike a stuffed head from some trophy kill. And, over time, as I "evolved" as a human, the tiger became more of just a piece of art. Then it became something of lesser significance. Then I moved it to a wall in a room I never enter. Then I decided I no longer wanted it. But I couldn't destroy it or shove it in a closet to collect dust. So I decided, one day, I would find a way to get it to his son, the little boy (now a nearly 30 year old man) we cared for on alternate weekends. But my desire to avoid interaction with anyone in that family has, thus far, outweighed my desire to do right by the tiger (and my personal karma). 

For some, this would be an insignificant issue. I've known women who have done awful things in vengeance and in spite. Many, I'm sure, would have gotten rid of the darned thing by now, not in a mean way, but just to be rid of it. Regardless of how damaged this relationship left me, though, that Tiger was loved by someone I had once loved. And it should remain in his family. I wouldn't feel right mindlessly tossing away someone's heirloom. I had that done to me when my father died and I know what "things" that have no measurable material value mean to the bereaved. 

Anyway, in the last four or five days, things have repeatedly happened to remind me of Jack. I saw something that reminded me of him in a drug store. I drew a Tiger card for this past weekend's reading. I had a dream where he was trying to tell me something and I wouldn't listen. And, finally, last night I saw a man who reminded me of him. Especially after the dream, it began to eat at me. All these years without really thinking of him and here I am unable to shake him. 

So, hopped up on iced tea, not able to sleep and with all this "stardust" floating around in my brain, I googled him. About a month ago, he was riding his motorcycle at a high rate of speed, crossed the yellow line and careened head on into an SUV. The accident was so violent it broke his bike in half and sent his body all the way into the cabin of the SUV. He died instantly. 

All of this leads to the Daughter of Swords. She is insightful. She is wise. And she wields her weapon judiciously. Twenty years ago when I, effectively, used his treasured possession as a pawn in our relationship, I did not wield my weapon judiciously. And now I have another chance. I may legally own that Tiger, but, in my heart, it's not rightfully mine. It belongs to his son. And it's time to figure out a way to get it to him. I think that's what all the stardust was coming to tell me. It's time let go entirely. In more ways than one.