The lynx spends an incredible amount of time in solitude. She is quiet, often unseen, but sees all. Just as a star disappears as soon as it catches your eye, the lynx appears only when our seeking ceases.
My life has been in transition for what seems like years by now. Rushing to capture the moment before it slips away, seeking the next clear stretch of time so that I can finally take a breath. While meandering through the desert this summer I had a couple of realizations that completely changed my perspective:
At the beginning of self-inquiry we are tempted to explain, to judge, to find out why this brain of ours works the way it does. This is the stuff of suffering. The ravenous grasping of information threatens to detach us from ourselves and our own inherent peace, and mindfulness meditation strips away those tendencies. It’s about shedding the layers of knowledge and judgment through gentle observation. What’s left is our true nature.
I was first introduced to tarot in a serious way while on a trip with Light Grey Art Lab. We spent late summer mornings shuffling around a beautiful and magical handmade cabin in the middle of southern Utah, eventually finding ourselves on the porch reading our birth charts and learning about astrology and tarot cards. It was there that I learned how to use the skills I already possess as a creative and intuitive person to pull out wisdom and create meaning from what I was seeing.