For an explanation of this Spiritual Memoir
blog series see THIS post.
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| Radiant Rider-Waite Tarot |
(See pics in this post from various decks)
My Interpretations of the Card
"Come to me and accept my unconditional love"
The Queen of Cups sits on her throne - not a seat in a lavish castle, but a stone throne on the shore. Queen energy is confident and powerful female (passive) energy, meaning it waits to be approached instead of actively seeking contact but when contact is made it has a lot to offer. Cups represent emotions or the secret hidden depths within us. The Queen of Cups, therefore, waits for us to approach and has a powerful, loving energy of connecting emotionally and revealing hidden truths.
In the Rider-Waite deck, the Queen of Cups' throne is adorned with images of cherubic mermaids. Mermaids carry balanced land/sea energy, half land-dwelling man, half sea-dwelling fish, representing a balance between reason/perception (land) and emotion/spirituality (water). She holds a mysterious goblet or trophy - God knows what it is she's holding ... but she looks at it and smiles. She likes what she's holding, she admires and loves it, and if we want to know what it is and why she's so interested in it ... we must approach her. They mystery is intentional, she's baiting us; but not maliciously - never maliciously.
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| Whispering Tarot |
Why can't she come to us? Why must we go to her? It's a good question. Is she stubborn? Disinterested? I like the image from the Whispering Tarot that depicts her as an actual mermaid. She can only come so far ... she'll pop her head out of the water for us, but we need to approach her part way too.
Often when a court card (Page, Knight, Queen or King) of the tarot appears it represents a specific person in our lives - ourselves or someone we interact with. It can also represent a general energy either male or female (active or passive) mixed with the suit: cups (emotions/relationships), pentacles (material/perception), swords (thoughts/words), or wands (passion/creativity). In the case of the Queen of Cups, it could represent either a person I could go to when seeking emotional support, or that I am a person that offers emotional support ... or that the energy of my situation is one of seeking for someone to listen, or someone to comfort.
The shadow, or "negative" aspects of the Queen of Cups is someone who plays games with their support or love. They only share when you jump through hoops they've set up, or they overindulge and force their coddling love upon you. Of course, which of these aspects is pertinent to the readings is determined by the intuition of the reader.
Spiritual Memoir: Queen of Cups
In late 2011 (28 years old), probably in October or November, I was working with my Dad on the Princess Festival's premier winter show, and attending my first semester of graduate school at Columbia University (I was pursuing a Master's of Public Administration and Development Practices - basically a degree in fighting world poverty). It was too much - I was doing too much. I had to work to pay my rent, but the pressure of work mixed with my school schedule was overwhelming.
On top of just the general pressure of those two commitments, since we were doing the winter show for the first time, there was a degree of uncertainty and a learning curve we had to face that kept our small team at the Princess Festival overburdened. Then, Dad decided to take a two-week trip to Kenya and Dubai to pursue "expansion opportunities" just before the show was to start. The majority of our team were volunteers, and with the boss leaving town, and me in New York City (PF is based out of Utah), everyone was in a scramble. I can't express in words how angry I was at my Dad. I told him not to do the winter show, I told him not to leave the country ... and I felt like he not only pushed forward with them anyway, but then skedaddled out of the country when the pressure got hot. In retrospect, I understand his decisions, but at the time I was very, very angry. I was livid. And overworked.
So I decided, since Dad and I weren't communicating so well and he was out of the country anyway, I would call my Mom. Maybe I could talk her into getting Dad to abandon his trip and come home early to handle what I thought was a giant mess (whether or not it was is entirely debatable :). My Mom and I have always had an interesting relationship. I'm the youngest of 8 children -- we siblings are are very close in age, 8 kids in 10 years 7 months to the date -- and Mom always did the administrative side of Dad's entrepreneurial undertakings. Dad went out and wheeled-and-dealed (mostly as a commercial real estate developer), and Mom did the bookkeeping and record keeping, and mundane tasks that supported him. So, in essence, I had two working parents. But Mom worked at home, which in a way was worse for us, because we all saw that she sat at her computer all day, and decided she just didn't care enough to make time for us.
To a large extent I was raised by my siblings. My sister Sunny (18 mos older than me) taught me hygiene, how to use makeup, tweeze my eyebrows, make new friends, navigate a gym and use a tampon, etc. My sister Crystal (7 years older than me) taught me what a credit score was, how to do my taxes, bought me my first cell phone, and explained sex to me, etc. Liberty (9 years older than me) got me my first waitressing job, helped me get into Ohio State University, taught me to drive, co-signed on my first car loan, and has taught me the importance a life based on love and community, etc. I'm 29 now, and I moved out when I was 17 ... I've lived with Crystal for about 3 years (rent-free), Sunny Jo for 3 years, and Liberty for another 3 (part of it rent-free). Yes, I was raised by these three sisters as much as by my parents.
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| Deviant Moon Tarot (LOVE THIS DECK!!!) |
Let me set the record straight - my Mom is a great mom. We knew we were her life. We just didn't understand how much work it took to feed 10 people in a tough entrepreneurial world. My Mom is also very introverted, so we also didn't understand that her quiet smiles were equivalent to Dad's dramatic games.
As a child and up until the date of the phone call to my Mom to complain about Dad, I had basically written her off. When I was 18 I moved to Ohio, and after four months my Mom asked my sister why I never called her. My sister then asked me why I never called Mom and I was baffled: the thought had never occurred to me. I didn't know she would want a phone call, I didn't understand why it mattered.
Furthermore, my Mom is extemely LDS (Mormon). We were all raised that way. When I stepped out of Mormonism (age 24), it became hard for us to find a reconciliation of values.
This post isn't about venting about my parents; quite the contrary. Here's the magic...
I called my Mom the day of my emotional explosion (Dad out of town, Princess Festival at a boiling point, me in NYC). I went on for about 20 minutes about how she needed to step up and shut Dad down. She gently agreed that he has his flaws, but we all do, so it's a matter of compassion ... "No, Mom, it's time to get this under control," I insisted. "Oh Holly, we don't control people we love them..." Mom replied. "NO MOM, THIS ISN'T HOW I WORK. THIS IS WHY WE ARE NOT CLOSE. THIS IS WHY I STEPPED AWAY FROM THE LDS CHURCH. IT'S TIME FOR REASON."
"Oh honey, I'd like to hear someday more about why you've stepped away, if you're open to sharing with me..." Mom replied honestly.
"OH, I'LL TELL YOU WHY!" I screamed. Then I went on an hour-long tirade (or was it two hours?) about how everything she believes is bull-shit. No, bull-SHIT. No, BULL-SHIT. I ripped into everything she holds dear, I had snot coming out of my nose, and my face was all puffy, and I think my roommates left the apartment because I was ANGRY. For the first time in my life, I told my Mom everything I thought about her. And I wouldn't let her speak. No, every time she tried to speak I cut.her.off. I was mean, I was dirty, and I was brutally honest.
And then, when I had nothing more to spew ... Mom said, "Suzy, your feelings and experiences are valid. I can't argue them. But it doesn't change that I love you. I just love you - I can't help it." (Or something to that effect.) "Let's talk again soon, huh? This has given me a lot to think about, and I can't wait until you're back in town and we can just spend some time together."
"Yeah. Sure. Whatever," I replied. We hung up. I went outside to smoke.
It took about 15 minutes, but I realized suddenly, in perspective, what had just happened. I had let my mom see my ugliest self, the worst and meanest I could get, and I directed it all at her ... and she had nothing for me but Love. It wasn't fake, shove-it-in-my-face love ... it was Love. Love is unconditional. And no matter how ugly I got, how mean I became, she Loved me because her Love wasn't based on my appropriateness, my kindness, my goodness ... it just Was. Nothing could change that. Mom Loves me.
The Queen of Cups - you go to her, and she provides depth and power that you never would have access to otherwise. She doesn't approach you with her wisdom, love and grace, but waits until you come to her. But when you come, she is Power, she is Grace, she is Love. She knows who and what she is, and she sees you for what you really are, and when you challenge her she responds with the greatest power and wisdom there is: Love. We may not understand the Queen of Cups (what the hell is that thing she's looking at!?!?) and we may write her off as weird or detached or passively submissive. It doesn't matter. She's there for us anyway.
My Mom is the greatest example of unconditional love I have ever experienced in my life.
I love you, Mom.
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