What a beautiful, trembling, motivator of a card. Who knows why we start anew? Who knows the reasons that we step out into faith, into vastness and journeys both treacherous and full of bounty.
It’s Father’s Day, and like many others, I was gifted a Father who suffered and caused suffering, unchecked mental illness, severe drug abuse, chaotic violence at his hands. And yet, and yet, a sweet memory of looking at the stars as an adolescent, screaming and violence erupting in the background, a whisper of breaking cycles, a small beat of destiny…I am here, on this earth to begin a new shoot on the tree that is my family, that is my people, roots of violence, of pain, of never enough. New shoots. A reckoning, a reclamation, a subtle and strong belief of birthrights and reconciliation. A tending to grief and beautiful opportunities to nourish, to drink, to eat, to believe, to be intimate with myself, and in turn with those that came before me and those that will come after me.
John holds this card today. He models fatherhood, in its ups and downs, it’s maddening monotony, it’s sharp contrast of delicious, delightful, soul crushing gratitude and its deep sacred, boring devotion. He was never the answer to my journey and yet he has held the space for such vulnerability, for such healing, for such curious exploration. John in his humility, tends to his life with the Fool, he knows who he is and he lives in service to this calling–even if no one else is watching. Happy Fathers Day boo, I’m eternally grateful for you.