Intuitive and intelligent Tarot readings with Liat, an experienced and accurate Tarot Reader (it also can be fun)
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I used to love watching the Olympics, the spectacle of it all, the astounding efforts. And then one day, a friend said, we're not even giving a minute to the guy who came 9th, best in his country, 9th in the world, and he's not even on our radar.
Then I started to look at the Olympics differently. There are always the heartwarming stories, but there is a bigger message about the cost of perfection. The sheer courage it takes to see where you stand in the world - anyone ever measure the best lawyer in the country? How would we measure the best doctor? in the entire world? Sports is wonderful because you can quantify it - they ran this fast and now someone ran .1 seconds faster and they are now better.
But as someone who frequently tells people, you are good enough, don't let the perfect get in the way of the good... I think this person just ran faster than you and I could imagine, and surely is fast enough. Why are we pushing these fine folk to ever higher heights/endeavors. Let's not pretend that this doesn't damage their bodies long term.
I far prefer Olympics to war, and countries want to strut their stuff and increase their world stature via sport, I say go for it. But on a personal level, I want to give them all a hug and tell them they are wonderful, and to enjoy the sheer thrill of being there, and not to let those tiny medals be the way they measure their souls.
Why are you hanging on so tight To the rope that I'm hanging from? Off this island, this was an escape plan (this was an escape plan) Carefully timed it, so let me go And dive into the waves below
Who tends the orchards? Who fixes up the gables? Emotional torture from the head of your high table Who fetches the water from the rocky mountain spring? And walk back down again to feel your words and their sharp sting And I'm getting fucking tired
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting If our love died, would that be the worst thing? For somebody I thought was my saviour You sure make me do a whole lot of labour
The calloused skin on my hands is cracking If our love ended, would that be a bad thing? And the silence haunts our bed chamber You make me do too much labour You make me do too much labour
Apologies from my tongue, and never yours Busy lapping from flowing cup and stabbing with your fork I know you're a smart man (I know you're a smart man), and weaponise The false incompetence, it's dominance under a guise
If we had a daughter, I'd watch and could not save her The emotional torture, from the head of your high table She'd do what you taught her, she'd meet the same cruel fate So now I've gotta run, so I can undo this mistake At least I've gotta try
The capillaries in my eyes are bursting If our love died, would that be the worst thing? For somebody I thought was my saviour You sure make me do a whole lot of labour
The calloused skin on my hands is cracking If our love ends, would that be a bad thing? And the silence haunts our bed chamber You make me do too much labour
All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid Nymph then a virgin, nurse then a servant Just an appendage, live to attend him So that he never lifts a finger 24∕7, baby machine So he can live out his picket fence dreams It's not an act of love if you make her You make me do too much labour
All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid Nymph then virgin, nurse and a servant Just an appendage, live to attend him So that he never lifts a finger 24∕7, baby machine So he can live out his picket fence dreams It's not an act of love if you make her You make me do too much labour
The capillaries in my eyes (all day, every day) Are bursting (therapist, mother, maid) If our love died (nymph then virgin) Would that be the worst thing? (Nurse then a servant) For somebody (just an appendage) I thought was my saviour (live to attend him) You sure make me do (so that) A whole lot of labour (he never lifts a finger)
The calloused skin on my hands (24∕7) Is cracking (baby machine) If our love ends (so he can live out) Would that be a bad thing? (His picket fence dreams) And the silence (it's not an act of love) Haunts our bed chamber (if you make her) You make me do too much labour
I've been playing this all weekend. It's an amazing song, made better by the chilling video. I just love the lyrics and the rage behind them. You make me do too much labour indeed!
Often people come to tarot readings to preempt change. Or to try to control it. Change is like an ocean wave, surf it or swim under, but you can't control it. However knowing the wave is coming (it's always coming) and how big it is, can help us prepare. Do we duck under or crest above? Can we paddle before it? Often we can!
Sometimes people come to me for readings to justify their positions - I did X and Y because they did W. Was I right?
In interpersonal relationships, right sadly isn't always the correct answer. So I answer with a harder question - did it get you what you want?
If you confronted them and then they broke down and wept, was that the result you wanted? If you ignored the behavior and it continued, is that what you wanted? If you wanted genuine change, did your actions lead to it?
So I ask people before they justify anything, what is the end result you want, and is this the best way to get it? Harder question, better answers...
I've been writing this blog for a long time now - I started in 2009. And sometimes I write pieces I just love - like my recent one on the JoHari window, which was an explanation of how I think the tarot can work But it didn't get many reads. And then I can write a more mundane one - like the one about the 7 of pentacles - and it got three or four times as many hits. And it's so easy then, to start writing ones that get more hits, because obviously I want to be read. But I also want to write things that are different, that reflect me, that aren't cookie cutter.
And then I wrote a piece thinking about this and it immediately got destroyed as I clicked the wrong button, and deleted rather than saved it. So then I wonder, what is the universe trying to tell me.
And I think of the problem with praise, with hits, with attention, is that you start doing more to get that, whether is it what you want to say at this moment or not, to get confirmation.
We all want to be heard, but we don't just want to say words that please others, we want to speak about things that matter to us - and still be heard. And that's something I struggle with, how to balance that. And I don't think I'm the only one...