A Cup of Grief
Scorpio 1 // tear-water tea and letting rage in your heart
The air is foggy this morning. A dense layer of deep gray and purple clouds rested on the horizon as I drove my kids to school. The bright pink heart of the sun shone through and dazzled us - even the angsty teen, even the anxious tween, even the exhausted, world-weary mother. I hope this letter brings a warm hug, an ember of love to you today.
Welcome, Scorpio season! The season of the Death card - of compost, and fallen leaves, and ever-darker evenings. Nature’s reminder that all things come to an end and death is a necessary part of the ecological balance of things. When I walk outside, I relish the familiar of smell of earthy-decomposition. The swoosh and crunch of leaves under my feet is satisfying and nostalgic in all the best ways.
Inside the house it’s a little harder to find lightness though, and I often find myself moving through the motions of my day as if walking through a fog or as if weights were attached to my ankles. The evening hours of multitasking dinner and homework and bedtime routines is particularly tricky as my heavy heart just wants to be held and tended to…not extended out to three needy humans in warmth and understanding. You think YOU’VE had a hard day? Somebody make ME dinner and send ME off to take a warm bath!
I recognize that this is just my heavy-heart’s way of saying, please care for me, be gentle with me, which it is my sacred job to do.
The card for this first decan of Scorpio is the 5 of cups. Grief. Mourning. Disappointment. The keywords for this card are heavy, just like the feelings this time of year can conjure. And with the added weight of world events, political apathy, and general societal mayhem1 - it reminds me of the last time I wrote about this card and how it perfectly reflected my dismay and rage. I just can’t drink another cup of tragedy! And don’t forget the other cards for this season are The Tower and Death.
I think it’s safe to say that most of us are in a state of shock and horror over the events unfolding around the world. And when you are witness to a tragedy of this proportion it is reasonable for your body and nervous system to be activated. I pendulum swing between fight and flight daily. I’m either holding back my rage-panic (literally dreamt of punching a politician in the face the other night), or retreating into my bed - or at the least the safety of my mind. Last night my teen had to repeat themselves 3 times before I actually heard what they were saying. “I’m so sorry,” I said, “I’m feeling overwhelmed and my brain sometimes tunes out to protect itself. I really want to hear what you have to say.” I felt like a shitty parent, but instead I received a big hug because my kid’s empathy knows no bounds.
Most versions of this card have 5 cups with 3 overturned and spilled out while 2 are still standing. We understand the spilled cups: the loss, the devastation, the tears spilled out on the ground. But what is hidden inside those 2 upright cups? As
said earlier this week2, I think they are full of Rage and Love.Rage that creates, instead of destroys, is a courageous, unstoppable form of Love.
It’s an ember that burns slow and hot.
It’s a tidal wave that builds slowly out at sea and can’t be held back.
It’s a mountain that can’t be moved.
I want us to not bypass the pain of this moment of the Anthropocene. I want us to continue to refuse dehumanization at every turn. I want us to be more “human in the midst of a tumultuous time3”. I want us to fully feel the rage, but temper it with courageous love. I want us to make music and write poems4 and release our tears (3 whole cups worth). Maybe even make a cup of tea5 with them to soothe our inextinguishable hearts.
I don’t actually know if my rage can burn and not consume me. I don’t know if my heart can sustain holy rage. But that’s what I wish for us. Pouring into my rage cup, and then balancing with my cup of fierce and formidable Love.
Related Tarot Spread // For this card of grief, I commend this beautiful spread to you from
Related Reading // As I stoke the warm ember in my heart, my meditation teacher has been leading us in a practice of calling on wise elders. I’ve been thinking of Fred Rogers, James Baldwin, and Dorothy Day. Calm, Angry, Loving, Relentless.
Stoking the Fire
First, a celebratory note that Ohio’s issue 1 passed to enshrine reproductive rights into our constitution. Yay! But also, I’m still raging because, “Pulpits in Ohio and across the nation have long politicized vaginas without paying into a tax system that could have better supported mothers, fed hungry babies or provided either of them steady shelter or reliable daycare through state level funding.” As
said this week, our fire cannot be extinguished!She asked, “What could our rage do if we let ourselves feel it? If we weren’t afraid of it, and didn’t try to dispel it so quickly? Who among us knows the secret to how we can use our fury to create rather than destroy?”
Tear-water Tea is one of my favorite Arnold Lobel stories and gives permission to all of our inner kids to have a good cry.
LINDSEY!! it’s like you’ve been living in my mind, the first part of this essay. (We are apparently on the same wavelength this week! 😅) Beautiful writing. Will be thinking about tending to my own heavy heart that pleads for tending, and holding rage and love. Thank you for writing ❤️
This is so beautiful, Lindsey. I have discovered in the past year that rage will consume me if I don’t let it actively work to remake the world. It’s the sharp edge of my creative impulse, and when I let myself feel it, let it move my whole self (including my wise compassionate self, not just my inner 3-year-old), it fills me with courage I could not imagine for myself. When I discovered this, stopped trying to temper it by numbing out, I was like, “no wonder women aren’t allowed to feel angry. If we did, we would remake the world.”
Thank you for offering these beautiful reflections