Tarot of the Crone Ace of Disks

How I Experience

Taste and Touch

My Self

My Life

All that I Own

The body is the root of our lives on this Earth, our beginning, how we walk this path of reality. The image shows the center of our bodies - not the limbs, which we use as tools, and not the head, which we believe directs our life and sets us apart from other animals. The torso contains our vital organs, those for sustaining, processing, and producing life.

In a reading, this card indicates issues surrounding your body or your health. It represents your unique life and experience, your self, and knowledge of yourself as you move through time on this Earth. It may indicate a path that holds real strength and great potential, and is as personal and unique as you are.

Yesterday I woke up sick with a cold. I felt so disappointed because I'd had a good productive weekend, writing and getting more cards made. And the symptom that bothered me the most wasn't the stuffy drippy nose or the weak weepy eyes, it was the absolute lack of energy. I felt exhausted every moment I was conscious, no matter how much I slept.

Today I asked the cards what I could do to feel better. I got the Ace of Disks. The Body. Pay attention to the body. Duh! I thought. Like I didn't know that already. But what was I really doing? Yes, I was feeding, drinking, vitaminizing, resting - but I wasn't listening. I wasn't *there* with it, there with my body.

Most of the time our attention is centered in our heads. We're looking, we're thinking. The eyes are a great pull of our attention, because they give us so much information. But close your eyes for a minute. Likely your attention is still there in your head, right behind your eyes. A simple grounding exercise I like to do is this: Close your eyes and let the center your attention sink from your head down into your body. Let it sink down and down, past your heart and lungs and breath, down into your belly, your bottom, your womb, your gut. Into your body. Your own, and only, precious body. Being there in it, moment by moment by moment.

So I lay in bed, got comfortable, and did this exercise. Not just for a minute or two, but continuously for most of an hour. Of course I got distracted, started thinking of other things, but I would remember, and bring my attention back. And something amazing happened.

One thing, which was not unexpected but was still wonderful, was that I could feel my entire body at once, and as one whole. I felt all of me resting, not some parts staying tense and ready, not the forehead, the jaw, or the shoulders. I felt the lack of energy, the lethargy, the need for rest, in every cell. And then the unexpected - the lethargy turned sweet. Oh the sweetest sense of relaxation, of utter surrender, surrendering to the body, surrendering to rest. Each part of me infused with, not a glow, but a belonging and a knowing and a sweet and strong abandon.

Wow, I thought. People pay big bucks for drugs that make them feel like this.

I am still not over the cold, but I am better. In any case, I'm certainly enjoying it more.

Ellen 5/8/2003