Carry, bury, shovel

a (timely?) tarot spread to try

There’s something about a three card tarot spread. Layers to digest, yet not at all overwhelming. So, that’s what I come bearing today. Another three card spread. Not a particularly revolutionary one, but one that came to me on a walk today and seems appropriate for the moment. Because there’s an eclipse happening, or so the astrology girlies tell me, and eclipses can be a time for moving things in and out of your life.

The positions go like this: carry, bury, shovel. And in case that merits expansion…

Carry: what should you bring forward, what still serves you, what is worth the effort to sustain.

Bury: what should you release, what must go, what is taking up more energy than it is worth.

Shovel: because letting go isn’t easy, this card suggests a tool/resource/mindset/key that may assist you in the necessary burying.

I’ll give it a test drive for myself - maybe some of the messages will resonate for you, as well - using the Spolia Tarot.

Well, fuck. I was going to try to remain stoic today and I’m already about to cry as soon as the cards come out.

For what I should carry forward, I have the Hierophant. This is quite the synchronicity as just before I started writing this, I had a long think about how thoroughly I’ve abandoned many of my spiritual practices. I used to meditate, don’t do that anymore. I used to read poetry or spiritual texts most days, don’t do that any more. I used to have other such small rituals that helped me through this deranged reality we find ourselves in, but I haven’t engaged with them in a long time.

So perhaps for me this card isn’t exactly about carrying something forward but about picking something up once again. I’ve fallen into this pattern of not engaging in spiritual practice because I feel too despondent to do so. But then there’s nothing to support me through the despondency.

I guess I wouldn’t go so far as saying this is a universal truth for ALL human beings, but for many of us (myself included) we need rituals. We need activities that feel sacred, even in small ways, that help us feel connected to… something.

In the guidebook for the Spolia Tarot, Jessa Crispin writes of the Hierophant: “this card calls us to be the highest version of ourselves and to be focused on the wider world and not just our small, insignificant selves.”

It ties in perfectly to my next card, the Five of Cups. My first impression was this tells me to bury my sorrow and despondency. But in light of the Hierophant, I think it asks me to bury the isolation that accompany these, not the emotions themselves. Grief can be a lonely thing. Grief is intensely personal, manifesting in different ways for each of us, and even then manifesting in different ways from moment to moment.

Grief can make you feel ‘small and insignificant’ because it threatens to swallow you whole yet it is invisible to everyone else. But this is a trick. The isolation is a lie. Because although it is true that the exact flavor and shape of YOUR grief is unique to you, grief itself is a universal human experience.

I can see that connection between the Hierophant and the Five of Cups here. Maybe there’s an invitation for me here to explore rituals that might help me connect my individual grief to the grief of humanity (wow, that’s not grandiose at all). This is leading me down many rabbit holes of thought to explore further on my own.

Of course for the shovel I have the Ten of Cups. A reminder that you’re never alone even when you feel alone. That is how you release or ‘bury’ isolation, by simply opening to connection. Or, maybe even being okay feeling both at once. No one else can understand your specific emotions, but they can have empathy. And the same is true the other way around. I can’t know the exact experience of someone else’s pain, but I can offer them compassion.

In essence, these cards invite me to reconnect to ritual. Even in small ways. Not sure I have an elaborate ceremony in me at the moment, but even sitting quietly with a cup of tea can be a ritual. And the purpose of ritual is to remember I am part of something greater than just myself. My ancestors have known sorrow, my contemporaries have known sorrow, sorrow is part of the whole of existence. In that way, what isolates me is also what connects me.

Thank you for being here. If you try the spread for yourself, let me know how it goes?

Carrie