The Round Table (Wheel of Fortune)


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/wheel/

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How strange and how lovely – and, at the same time, how sad, for these cards carry both in their train. We can, of course, wedge a stick in a wheel’s spoke so that it does not move; but stopping movement in this way does not prevent the cyclic change, the wheel of time and tide, from turning inexorably. This can be a hard, and deeply hurtful, lesson to hoist on board, for many of us prefer to keep things safe and the same: To cling on to the stasis of the known rather than rolling with the wheeled vehicle of the new and unknown.

We are now into Summer. Cyclic change has come with the turning of the year. My life, too, is evolving, moving into the next phase, the next opportunity. Such is the Cosmic Law. Such, if we accept such matters with a modicum of grace, is the ongoing tide – its ebb and its flow – of our individual life spans.

But, with the Wheel turning ever-faster upon its next track, we inevitably see certain aspects of our lives becoming distance, the past, a country we cannot return to as the people we were before.

Last night, unconscious of this trend, I set up a Round Table – a circle of chairs with a table as its central point – in the garden. Here, a Fellowship met. No one sat at the head, for there wasn’t one; no one was superior, a King or Queen; it was a meeting of equals, convening to raise the energies creatively. As is true of the message of the tarot card, we sought balanced ways of representing the rights of all beings. It was, in many ways, a Tribal Council to Arthur’s Round Table.

It is easy to sit and watch the Road of the Past narrowing and disappearing behind us;to become caught in the wrenching grief this can cause us; to cling to any tiny fragments of rock and dust we can grab hold of as our chariot hastens ever-onward. But even the smallest particles can weigh us down and slow the turning of the Wheel – and sometimes we have to acknowledge that the aspect of past existence we are trying the hardest to keep clenched in our hands is nothing but phantasm and mist.

Mourn, yes. Grease the wheels of cyclic change with tears and sweat and blood, yes. But movement forward carries us whether we like it or not. Better to go with change, flow with the energies, than to fight.

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