pondering self-perception...

So this card was drawn as part of a larger reading i did while killing some time in a coffee shop the other night, but it was the part that stuck with me most, so figured i'd post about it a bit here.

It came up in a spread, in the position with the question of How do I see myself?

The funny thing is - well, Silicon Dawn is an interesting deck, in that it comes with 99 cards rather than the standard 78, and there is lots of room for a reader to decide what to keep when reading with it and what to take out. For me, being a bit conservative with such things...I kept the three fools and, after some consideration, the 99s, but nothing else. Even these I almost took out also but...there was just something about them, especially this one that asked to be kept in...

And the first time one comes up in a reading, it's this one, and for...well, this.

I knew immediately that it was appropriate though. Almost laughed. This deck, in fact, has a very remarkable ability to make me laugh by being so bluntly on-point.

Yes, yes this is me in so many ways. Perhaps that's what drew me to the card when I first saw it, subconsciously. First consider the figure: a little black creature thing, young-looking, odd. There are times, moods when...if you asked me to visually represent how I felt about myself/experienced my interaction with the world...this would be
a good approximation of that indeed. Means well, harmless, but not quite appropriate, or proper, void of color, stark contrast and...

Then there is the balloon, the longing focus on things lost, floating away, things that are gone let go of accidentally, focus on the past, on losing more, and more. It's actually been a weird thematic thing in my thinking lately...

       The art of losing isn't hard to master;
       so many things seem filled with the intent
       to be lost that their loss is no disaster,

       Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
       of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
       The art of losing isn't hard to master...

And then of course there are the rockets, the sense of impending doom, disaster, the sense that no matter what you do it isn't good enough, doesn't matter in the end, the tendency towards fatalism, towards seeing everything in the worst possible light, and especially everything relating to my own actions...

Story of my life, much? In many cases, at least. And the connection to the swords suit is obvious: its over-thinking everything that gets you in such funny situations, mentally.

Finally, the wide gap between the girl and the balloons and the rockets and the rest of the world. The sense of isolation? The fact that yes, indeed, it is all IN YOUR HEAD dearie.

Touche, deck. Touche.

--

*Poem is excerpt from One Art by Elizabeth Bishop. A lovely villanelle.