Nine of Swords
The quilt is both the comfort and the symbol of family. It wraps you warm and soft, it’s ancient threads worn with time. But then the rose vines transform to hard edge carved branches, snaking up, growing up around you. Nine nightmare thorns scratch through your skin, drawing blood, as the vines grow towards the full moon. You are trapped in your mental condition. Surreal, as in dreams, the water floods into your room from the far away ocean, negating the logic of perspective. The reflection of the moon in old warped glass is somehow more real than the actual moon, glowing like a fully bloomed white rose.
Nine swords are piercing my thoughts, keeping me up late at night. My dear friend of forty years was in the hospital battling the dragon of lung cancer and pneumonia. Dementia mom wanders the moon lit streets at 4 am, thinking it's 4pm. A family member is metaphorically and literally lost in the forest naked in body and spirit, philosophizing with his schizophrenia. Another beloved family member is up at night with her new baby, alone, after having to chase away the promise of a traditional family. My sister is grieving loss on top of loss. Another close family member is refusing to see his son for fear of encountering his ex-wife, both letting their trauma keep them from resolution. And now there's the insanity of the choice of Americans to be ruled by a narcissistic jackass of a man .
The restlessness of it all.
The crazy moon stares down at me now with comradery. Writing about this card's journey tonight under a super full moon feels right. I pulled the nine of swords six weeks ago. My friend died under this moon one cycle ago. She was my ninth blade and I chose her. To be with her for days when she sat in the hospital bed with her head in her hands, and later, under that moon, when she decided to let this life go, because it was her only choice to make. I took a picture of her sitting up sleeping in the hospital bed but now can’t bring myself to use it as reference. Instead a choose to ask my very good friend, who suffers from insomnia and mental health issues, if she would pose for me. So grateful to all my models/friends and family!
When I first pulled the dreaded nine of swords I didn't get it. I'm FINE. A worry wort by nature but nothing extreme. A nightmare or two perhaps, chasers of my gastrointestinal gripes. But fine. My two young adult children, happily ensconced in college. My partner plodding on, staying reasonably happy. Enjoying just the two of us now, lighting candles in each other's darkness.
But I realized I was...am... holding all these other people. All family, or chosen family, with love and concern in my heart, in my gut, in the moon light at midnight.
I had to decide which of the 9 swords to hold and now that choice is negated by her death. So here I am again. I just want to get past this fucking card. I don't want to decide what symbols to paint. I just want to skip it. Maybe I'll leave the card black. Black like the last name of my friend. No crazy ass moon. Just darkness. Just a figure in the dark at night. Sure, it's all in my head. Is it any less real? Yes, it is minor. It will pass. The grief will dim. My mother will die or go even more crazy in her home. My niece will find love all around her. My nephew will get on a good medication. People will forgive each other, or not. I control none of it with my mind. I control all of it with my mind. I open my eyes and chase away the nightmares, only to find I'm still dreaming.
Kind Reader, what is keeping you up at night?
"What Is Keeping You Up At Night?" oil on wood, original available
