I was just reading back yesterday’s post and boy was I cranky. Something about that pot of gold image really set me off. I may go back and add to that one, giving the oracle more meditative consideration. Or then again, maybe I’ll just leave that post with it’s Garfield attitude as is. Today’s symbol is quite the opposite in energy. A Widow At An Open Grave is the oracle for Taurus 5°. I suppose I deserve this image today for my bad attitude yesterday. Then again, such things being paradoxical, I see more hope and experience more revelation that that pot of gold offered. And the relationship between these two symbols does suggest that yesterday’s treasure was something of a fairy favor; it wasn’t real and/or it couldn’t last.
The abyss of an open grave. Well both figuratively and, often literally, this is waiting for us all. The great democracy is death. And you can’t take that pot of gold with you. Perhaps you can take spiritual treasures with you, depending on your beliefs. But the truth of the matter is that life is ephemeral and all material bonds, and those even with whom we share a great love, are most sadly going to come to a natural end. It sucks. I don’t think I’d want to live forever if it weren’t for the great love relationship of my life. I’m not attached to things—I’ve never been a materialist—and comparatively speaking, vis a vis my friends and colleagues, I am a person of very few possessions and very little terrestrial attachment. But the notion of being without a true love is really too much to bare. Probably no other reality has more inspired belief in some kind of afterlife or reincarnation, even, with the hope, in either case, that you are reunited with those you most love in the world. It is a notion that is eternally debatable. But there are some comforting thoughts on the subject:
For one science does tell us that energy can neither be created nor destroyed; and I’m not just speaking of the spiritual energy that animates us as humans; but also of the love we share. As well, there has been some ethereal evidence in my experience of human connection transcending the boundary of life and death. Working with clients we frequently get a sense, and often a name, of someone who has passed being quite invested in the living individual. That’s all I will say about that.
I believe this oracle is about the difference between love and attachment. As emotionally wrenching as it is we must strive to find a healthy detachment from all things that shall pass. And there can be some comfort. For instance, my mother was ill with Alzheimers for years and was also under the care and/or control of my one sibling who purposefully kept contact between us estranged, which in large part was for the best. The awful truth is that I didn’t see my mother during the last three years of her life. So when she ultimately passed I actually had, have had, more a sense of connection with her than during the last decade of her life. It’s as if she is more accessible to me now than during her final years.
Let’s discuss death metaphorically though for a minute, separate from the fact that we are all literally dying from the moment we are born—an ultimate paradox. We experience death of situations and relationships all the time. We don’t know when it’s coming, typically, just like the real deal. There’ll be a call (or my favorite: an email at 5 o’clock on a Friday) that a job or gig that you’ve had, and upon which you probably counted, for ages has suddenly bit the dust. Or somebody will get a bee in their bonnet about something and snuff out your bond with them. Well the subject of this oracle isn’t the grave, really, but the widow; and that suggests to me that we are meant to meditate on what becomes of her. We are all widowed by experiences like the examples above. Things end all the time. The question is, what do we do next? Whenever there is a real or metaphoric death we start over, in a sense; and we typically try not to repeat the mistakes of the past—when taken metaphorically—just as we might understand we can’t replicate a relationship with a loved one who leaves us. We can have new relationships, but we’ll never have that one; perhaps because we’re still having it and we’ll always have it. In the case of a real death of a true intimate, I think it’s very rare that we would want to bond again so deeply; instead I think human nature dictates that we involve ourselves more detachedly should we find love again.
Surely, this is true when we stay in metaphoric land. We will not repeat the mistakes we made in a job, say, if we find ourselves suddenly fired from one. In simple terms we might say we won’t let ourselves be hurt that way again. But really, we are inspired to transcend and to invest less personally, next time, in like situations. The pain of losing a job or opportunity is invariably felt by the ego. But herein we learn the lesson of letting go lightly. All that we experience with our senses is impermanent, which is why eastern philosophies often characterize so-called reality as the illusion. What if anything is permanent one wonders. Eternity is the self-evident response, but what is that? Is it something that we can participate in. I would say yes. But you shouldn’t listen to me. You would have to experience such a connection for yourself to know. I suddenly hear a parody of a pharmaceutical company in my head: As your metaphysician if Eternity is right for you. Side effects may include transmuation into pure love and light, transcendence of time and space, expression of your full divine nature, and Oneness.
In astrology the eighth house rules death, sleep and sex, among other key attributes. Why these three elements hang together is because they fall under the larger concept of regeneration. The diviners of our ancient Zodiac believed death to be a means via which the spirit achieved rebirth, just as sleep rejuvenates the body and sex reproduces life. It does reflect that scientific view of indestructable energy. So I’m going with that. Still we feel the pain of the loss of personal attachment and I don’t believe we’re meant to transcend those feelings completely, especially when we leave the realm of metaphor in considering the message of this symbol. And yet, we must continually make our peace with saying goodbye to the past. And really, who among us is really that good with goodbyes?
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