6/19/13—Learning Lessons the Hard Way

ATTN: Tomorrow's Daily Draw will be one of those "special" posts I do for the blog group I'm a member of. So those of you accustomed to reading tomorrow's post the night before, I will be posting Friday's post at 1am Eastern on Friday (rather than at 8pm on Thursday)

Today's Draw Classic*: Three of Swords in the Lesson position from the Legacy of the Divine by Ciro Marchetti and the Deck of 1000 Spreads by me. When you think on the big lessons in your life, do you remember more of the ones you learned through pain more profoundly? Or do you remember more of the lessons you learned through happy moments more profoundly? Is there something you can learn from that?

It's interesting that this combo came up, because I've been thinking lately about the lessons we learn from heartbreak. If you can't tell by the tarot card (and the spectacular way my spread card makes the fractured heart on the cheek pop) that's what this card is about. 

I often debate the value of the lessons we learn from loss vs. the value of the lessons we learn through victory. I will never misspell the word "committee" ever again because it caused me to lose a spelling bee in third grade. I cried just like the girl in the picture there. 

Looking back over my life, the most valuable lessons I've learned have been the tough ones. That doesn't mean we don't learn from the good stuff because we do. Doing something right the first time reinforces that behavior or system and so you repeat it to success time and time again. But when that's the case, it just becomes the way you do it....a repeatable process that ends in success. Not so much a lesson you've learned, but something you figured out on your own. 

But when you learn something the hard way, it becomes somehow more meaningful, more profound. We define it more like a lesson than just a "way". It seems like the higher the price, the more meaningful the lesson, the less likely we are to screw with that particular thing again. Some lessons we just have to learn that way, whether through our own obstinance, lack of awareness or whatever. 

Can you think of a lesson you learned in the past that you didn't need to learn? Can you think of a painful experience you've ever had that didn't bring lessons? I can't. Pain seems to write on us in ways that both knock us to our knees in tears and then, after time, to our knees in gratitude. It is both toxin and tonic. It poisons and purifies. 

The universe never brings us something in error. If we're experiencing pain, it's needed on our path. If we're on a winning streak, it's needed on our path. Everything is brought to us in love, as a means to lift us higher. That's sometimes hard to see in the moment, but always visible in retrospect. The hardest lesson of all—the one that causes the most self-inflicted pain—is to learn is to trust in that. 

*From 3/22/13

3/22/13—Learning Lessons the Hard Way

Today's Draw: Three of Swords in the Lesson position from the Legacy of the Divine by Ciro Marchetti and the Deck of 1000 Spreads by me. When you think on the big lessons in your life, do you remember more of the ones you learned through pain more profoundly? Or do you remember more of the lessons you learned through happy moments more profoundly? Is there something you can learn from that?

It's interesting that this combo came up, because I've been thinking lately about the lessons we learn from heartbreak. If you can't tell by the tarot card (and the spectacular way my spread card makes the fractured heart on the cheek pop) that's what this card is about. 

I often debate the value of the lessons we learn from loss vs. the value of the lessons we learn through victory. I will never misspell the word "committee" ever again because it caused me to lose a spelling bee in third grade. I cried just like the girl in the picture there. 

Looking back over my life, the most valuable lessons I've learned have been the tough ones. That doesn't mean we don't learn from the good stuff because we do. Doing something right the first time reinforces that behavior or system and so you repeat it to success time and time again. But when that's the case, it just becomes the way you do it....a repeatable process that ends in success. Not so much a lesson you've learned, but something you figured out on your own. 

But when you learn something the hard way, it becomes somehow more meaningful, more profound. We define it more like a lesson than just a "way". It seems like the higher the price, the more meaningful the lesson, the less likely we are to screw with that particular thing again. Some lessons we just have to learn that way, whether through our own obstinance, lack of awareness or whatever. 

Can you think of a lesson you learned in the past that you didn't need to learn? Can you think of a painful experience you've ever had that didn't bring lessons? I can't. Pain seems to write on us in ways that both knock us to our knees in tears and then, after time, to our knees in gratitude. It is both toxin and tonic. It poisons and purifies. 

The universe never brings us something in error. If we're experiencing pain, it's needed on our path. If we're on a winning streak, it's needed on our path. Everything is brought to us in love, as a means to lift us higher. That's sometimes hard to see in the moment, but always visible in retrospect. The hardest lesson of all—the one that causes the most self-inflicted pain—is to learn is to trust in that. 

5/28/12—Allowing What Is

Today's Draw: Three of Swords from the Maat Tarot by Julie Cuccia-Watts. Has someone broken your heart? What did you do? And are you willing to see it through different eyes?

Nothing makes a Monday happier than a dove pierced through the heart by three swords. And if you look closely at the swords, each bears the symbol of a different major religion. I grabbed the photo of the card from the Inner Whispers blog and really enjoyed her interpretation: 

"The message seems to be that religious ideas can sometimes kill peace and cause heartache.  Given the number of religious wars there have been, the idea of losing family to violent conflict still underlies this image.  There is also the aspect that, when religious ideas separate people, it can destroy families in a more subtle way, too.  This is a reminder that we can lose people in many ways.  For example, what of the person who comes back from a war or other traumatic situation a changed person?  Oftentimes people say they feel that their loved one never really came back, even when they are physically there.  So, losing someone to war, to religion, them no longer being there, or being there physically and yet not really present, or unwilling to connect because of differences in belief.  Heartache indeed!"

Traditionally we think of this card as a broken heart. Someone has hurts us and our heart bleeds, usually in a romantic situation. But as Inner Whispers says above, it doesn't have to be romantic. The person doesn't even have to mean to hurt us. In fact, it doesn't even have to be a person. It can be the spoils of fate that set the pain flowing. 

Further the heartbreak can be ourselves breaking our own heart. Make each sword symbolize body, mind and soul and you can see how, when the three are not in agreement/alignment, it can kill your own peace...break your own heart. Which dovetails (haha...get it? Dove? Dovetails?) nicely with Julie Cuccia-Watts' interpretation. 

In the book that comes with this deck, Cuccia-Watts observes the scientific principle that energy is never lost or destroyed, it just changes form. So love is never lost, it just becomes something else. And, if you think logically, the love you had before still remains. And now you have something different to add to it. But what was love before, was still love. Because of this, she posits that heartbreak isn't so much about what you've lost, because you haven't lost anything. Heartbreak is really just the pain that comes from losing control. 

Think about it for a second. Isn't that the cause of most of the pain we have in life? Lack of control...and the desire to have it? Lack of control in and of itself doesn't cause pain. It's when you fight against the lack of control that you experience pain. Anytime we try to swim against the stream of "what is", we experience pain. Sadness may be a byproduct of being human, but intense pain, sorrow, heartbreak...all of those can be avoided.

Wars happen because we're fighting against the fact not everyone thinks or feels as we do. Heartbreak happens when we fight against the fact that a relationship has changed. Sorrow occurs when we lose something we're not ready to accept the loss of. Ultimately, it's never someone else who is causing the pain in our lives. It's all on us, refusing to accept "what is"...what has changed. It comes from fighting against the flow. 

Last week we talked about putting on armor to protect ourselves from being hurt. It's ironic that the only impermeable armor there is, is not in holding others at arm's length to keep them from hurting us. It's actually in letting them in and letting whatever will be, be.

1/25/12—Being Human

Today's Draw: Three of Swords from the Whispering Tarot. How do you handle bad news and heartbreak? Do you think you'll ever reach a place where you lose the ups and downs of life and everything is just even? When you look at this card, which woman are you?

The Three of Swords is a card of disappointment, heartbreak and sorrow. It also covers news of illness, loneliness, betrayal, exits and fear of abandonment.

Hooray! That's your reading! Have a nice day!

Yeah, this card usually sucks to receive. But this PARTICULAR Three of Swords is very interesting to examine. 

In many decks, this card would be depicted as three swords piercing a heart, like it's some over-toothpicked hors d'oeuvre. But this one is so layered. An angry wind is blowing and it affects each woman in the card differently. One is thrown to her knees. Another turns away, either in denial or as a way of remaining strong. And the third seems nearly impervious, offering a helping hand. 

Which one are you when things go bad?

I think I can say I'm likely to be any of the three, depending on the situation or when it hits me. There have been big disappointments I've just accepted and walked away from. Fears I've turned my back on. And then some seemingly insignificant slights have affected me intensely. 

Heartbreak? Or party food?

Sometimes I feel like I should be more even. I mean, I know that things happen for the best and everything is temporary. The Zen thing would be not to judge the situation as good or bad. But there are more factors at play than faith and belief, aren't there? There are deep-set wounds that can come to the surface. Insecurities. Hormones. And that series of straws that build up in our lives, allowing just one to knock us over. And then, of course, there's the fact that we're human, no matter how spiritual we aspire to be.

I suppose if I could be a monk and not have to make a living or deal with anything but devotion, it would be easier to be balanced all the time. But that's not the case. As we grow and move along our paths, we can shed ourselves of drama. We can build our compassion and understanding. We can intensify our faith. We can meditate and move energy. And we can whittle down the extremes of rollercoaster emotions. But we will still have crappy days. And we will still *feel*. That's what we came here to do. 

The good news is that the winds eventually get tired of blowing us down. And the swords that block our retreat will be circumvented. And the sun will shine again. But instead of turning away from feeling or denying it because we "should be beyond that" on our path, we just got to feel it while it's there. Take its lesson. And move forward knowing it wasn't a commentary on our spiritual shortcomings, but an opportunity to be human. Like we're meant to be.