Hoofing Off…

PREVIOUS|MASTER LIST|NEXT

For this blog hop, Maureen Aisling Duffy-Boose set the theme with instructions to “decide for yourself which card in the Tarot most corresponds with your own interpretation of the second harvest of the Autumnal Equinox, or the energies and focus of the Celtic Deity Mabon, whose festival is celebrated on this date. And, with that in mind, you are invited to CREATE A TAROT CARD which will express in your own fashion this meaning.”

Now being a September equinox baby, I do get uber self-indulgent this time of year… I don’t do New Years Resolutions on 31st Dec/Jan 1st… I do them now… in my own little quiet space… September starts and as the kids go back to school, I gather up my scattered marbles and look back over the previous year and then think about where I want to head next…

This year… I’m having to weigh things up with a lot more thought than usual…

I’ve been laid low for quite a while with an injury to the soft tissues around my sacral-illiac joint. I’ve spent months trying every trick I know to sort it and getting frustrated that nothing works… so eventually I throw my hands up in despair and head to the G.P. and I get referred to a physio…

So… it turns out… the back is not the problem but the side effect… she informs me that I have one leg longer than the other (as do most folks…) that I was born with an equinus foot ( I idly wonder if it has anything to do with my Sagittarius Ascendant…) and then she demonstrates a normal gait, followed by a demonstration of my gait with an over emphasis that leaves me thinking – F@ck me! I’m Kaiser Soze!

But then it gets really interesting as I’m told that all my life I’ve been out of balance and that my body has been shifting and compensating to the point where it refuses to tolerate any more… she goes through my treatment plan, which starts with complete rest, lots of ice… moving into heat treatment, then finding the balance between the two… constructing arch supports and heel raises to bring me back into alignment and the killer blow…

She gives me a piece of paper with the words:

Do not do anything that you do not HAVE to do 

I waddle home and as I lay on bags of frozen peas, it occurs to me – Hey! She’s just written my blog  post for me…

Oh… but what shall I draw… so… being off my feet gives me time on my hands… which I spend looking at my feet and I look at the shape of my sole and I think… ahhh… I know that shape… perfect…

So… I went from this…

Hermit Sole Man

To this…

AutumnalEquinoxHermit Karen Sealey

And now I’m going to play my

Do not do anything that you do not HAVE to do ‘ card

So… I’ll let you jog along with making up lame puns and running gags, while I limp off with the Virgoan Hermit and relearn to walk…

I’m imaging not so much walking into a cave but walking through a mountain and re-emerging in the Spring Equinox… hopefully throwing off the cloak and dancing like an Ace of Wands… though to be honest… any improvement would be good, such as simply regaining my sense of balance, as right now, I’m hobbling around like a T-Rex with a mogadon shuffle…

I may or may not be exaggerating… 😛

Ok! Visiting time is over…

Scoot!

I’m sure my lovely neighbours Louise and Ania will look after you nicely.

🙂

PREVIOUS|MASTER LIST|NEXT

Getting Some Retro Perspective…

Merc Rx

So… it’s that time again… yeah… who needs an emphemeris when you’ve got a fb newsfeed… Mercury has gone retrograde… Let the blaming and shaming commence…

Now personally… I don’t care much either way which way Mercury is facing… I’m often beset with electrical malfunctions and rarely do they coincide with Merc Rx… frequently they occur when I am upset or out of kilter…

However… I do get a phenomenon that occurs that I find intriguing… As Merc turns Rx I very often get an old email reappear on my mobile as if it’s just been sent… This time I didn’t get an email… I did however get an old photo appear from 2 years ago… I looked at the photo and I remembered the day and then also I remembered an email conversation I had that day…

Now… I’m not entirely sure if it’s down to my laziness or down to in the past having to keep emails on file for 6 years… but I keep pretty much all of my emails…sure I delete spam and other stuff that I know for definite I won’t need for anything…

So… I had a rummage in my email to this day two years ago and found that conversation… and I smiled… and I looked at this day three years ago and found another email conversation with that same person that made me LOL as they proudly boasted of qualities that email conversations this time a year ago thoroughly exposed as just simply not existing… It takes a while to see someone’s full true colours… and this time last year I was blessed with a not so spectacular display… I got a full guided tour behind the bullshit to discover… well… you don’t need to know what I discovered…

This year I sit with Merc Rx and I ask him… so … words of advice…

He says… yeah… sure… remember this… you can never step in the same dog turd twice…

Oh how we both laughed 😀

Oh… a P.I.T.A. Splatter…

There are some situations in life that I find to be painfully uncomfortable and a couple of weeks ago, a literal pain in the ass landed me into one…

So… as it happens, I have this injury to my sacro-illiac joint… it’s been niggling away for quite some time and to the point where my self-care routines have become ineffective and forced me into seeing my G.P.

Now… I’m not a frequent flyer to the Doctor’s… I have to be at my wits end before I go there… so yeah… I’ve spent around two years dismissing the option as being pointless as… well… it’s just backache! Do I really have time in my diary to go hear – It’s backache! You’re old and fat! What do you expect? Get over it!

But… I bit the bullet and made an appointment and ooooooooh…. he didn’t say any of that… what he did do is refer me to a physiotherapist…

So I hobble to physio and arrive 10 minutes early for my session, to be seen 15 minutes late and then have half of that time taken up by a lecture on the importance of time keeping and turning up for appointments… mmm… which for some strange reason leaves me in a pretty shitty disposition… which gets shittier as I’m informed in due course that I am indeed… old and fat! and I ponder that maybe the Dr didn’t so much as refer me but more delegate his nagging…

I’m getting increasingly irritated as I’m asked if I have a smart phone, so that I can scan the bar codes on my food so that I can keep track of cutting down on calories but manage it so that I can still have steak and a glass of wine…

I tilt my head to one side and stare in quizzical fashion and this woman babbles on about how she manages her lifestyle routine… my brain floods with words which I managed to dam behind a short plain statement of – Yeah… that’s not going to fit in with my lifestyle…

She’s off again… I will cancel all your sessions if you do not comply with your homework… blah blah blah.. you this, you that… you the other… You WILL do as I say…

I let her run full steam until she stops and fixes me with her stare…

I stare back…I tell her… Your diet is not suitable for my lifestyle, so think again and come up with something that will work and I will do it…

I hold back on informing her that steak and wine motivators don’t really impress me much… what with being a tee total vegetarian and all that… I’ll leave that little surprise for if she ever bothers to ask what I eat…

Instead, she moves on to – On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the worse pain you can imagine, what number would you rate your pain at its worst?

7 or 8…

She looks at me in disbelief… 7 or 8… really… 7 or 8… hmppf…. based on what? Have you ever experienced pain?

I really can’t be arsed to give her blow by blow accounts of 4 births… or the abscess induced toothache that had me seriously considering removing my own tooth with a claw hammer… (which incidentally I nearly made my Dentist pass out when I described that pain as being slightly tender… he defined it for me as a 7…)

Instead I say… 8 is where nausea takes over my whole body, my vision swims and I have to sit down because it feels like I’m going to blackout… 7… well that’s when you involuntarily clench your fist to reflex punch in the face anyone who comes within about 3 feet of you in case they nudge you and make you hit 8…

How would you describe your pain?

I stare at her again… as … didn’t I just do that…

Well?!

So I reply in my native tongue of analogy, which hits her ears in a way that forces her to  visibly display her pain… her jaw clenches… that pleases me… so I carry on… wondering if I can make her temples pump… well… it’s kind of like… ok… imagine this…

ONE WORD!!! she blasts at me! Describe your pain in ONE WORD!!!

I tell her that I can’t do that…

She fires words at me… one after another…

!

!

!

!

WELL?

I toss one back in desperation…

Dull…?

She accepts that and logs it into her tickbox list…

Oh… she’s taken dull as my pain category rather than my losing the will to live despair of my current experience…

By this point, I have no idea whatsoever she is rattling on about as I’ve escaped into the slipstream of my own mind…

What a stupid question… how would I describe my pain? That’s not what you wanted to know… you wanted me to give an answer that was closest fit to your pre-approved words… why didn’t you give me the list first rather than launch me into a subjective free for all to be told I’m not giving you the right answer…

I start to inwardly laugh… I feel like I’m trapped in a badly written sitcom… I think of the old light bulb jokes…

How many Freudians does it take to change a light bulb?

I imagine a room full of characters streaming through her office…

So… tell me… how would you describe your pain?

It’s an existential angst that comes creeping like cold ice and wakes me in those darkest hours just before the dawn…

Einstein swings by… it’s all relative my dear… he brings a few mathematicians with him… they find it had to calculate…

I panic that she’s going to ask me again next time I come… oh my god… do I need to register my wordiness as a disability… should I claim I have special needs and try and get an interpreter…

Or maybe I’ll let my inner Artist answer… and I can just hold up instantly a thousand words of encaustic wit…

p.i.t.a.splatter

Ah… my pain… it is exquisite!

Is it bad enough to sit through all of this again…

Just out about…

Oh… and if you happen to be wondering about the answer to How many Freudians…Well… I guess that I’d best put you out of your pain…

TWO!
One to hold the light bulb… and one to hold the cock… FATHER!!! LADDER!!!

😉