The Crumbling
On choosing love, every single time.
As I rubbed my hands together near the space heater in the living room, Violeta’s face lit up. She said “hold on!” as she swept from the room scarf trailing behind her, returning moments later to present me with an oracle deck.
Violeta knows how much I love this deck of cards, adorned with pink roses and a matte, almost rubbery finish. They are a sensual delight, these cards.
We sat, I shuffled the cards, took a moment to breathe into my body, and then pulled The Crumbling.
The Crumbling has a similar message to The Tower in the Rider Waite tarot, and if you’ve ever seen the image of the lighting rod striking The Tower on its crown as two souls flail falling to their demise, you know it’s an unsettling card.
The Crumbling, however, is not change caused from an unseen force from above, but rather an intense shaking of the foundation. You can feel it coming.
I recognized the earthquake like tremors growing in intensity over the days leading up to that morning after Christmas, when I poured over the words of bell hooks.
In her book, All About Love, hooks tells us that valuing love compels us to live differently, to behave in ways that nurture our spiritual growth and that of others.
hooks reminds us, “The choice to love is a choice to connect – to find ourselves in the other.”
What’s useful, she notes, is cultivating awareness because that’s what allows us to critically examine our actions and ask ourselves, “Are my behaviors aligned with love?”
In other words, is what I’m doing nurturing my spiritual growth or that of my loved ones?
Scenes from the day before came to mind. I put the oven mitts on my hands and greedily tore at the saran wrap present ball, cheers on all sides, losing myself in a game that lasted three hours.
We were playing to win tiny bottles of booze, scratch off lotto tickets, chocolates, and gift cards. Fun, right?
When the game was over, my sister Liz said she was ready to leave, so that we could deliver two plates of food to friends and family who could not join the festivities. Even though it was my idea, I was pissy and couldn’t shake the bad mood. The scowl on my face was set in stone.
I wasn’t myself.
When we pulled up to my Liz’s friends house, she received his embrace. Pat took the plate and my sister reassured him that she hadn’t forgotten about him. It got quiet suddenly, the sob erupting in Pat’s throat could be heard from the driver’s seat. My whole body softened. A pinhole opened for love to flow through. Pat was spending the day alone, one parent recently passed, and the other in the hospital with a broken hip. Liz told me as we drove away.
Shame swirled in my belly.
That night I sat in my room, in meditation, the unease undulating in pit of my stomach, without explanation. I spent time calming myself by journaling, investigating all of the reasons that I was feeling “off” after an ostensibly no-drama, good day.
The next morning, I saw myself in the words of bell hooks and felt the relief of remembering something long forgotten.
She illuminated for me that on Christmas Day, I chose to do the spiritual equivalent of eating a bunch of junk food, which was fun at the time, but left me feeling underfed, anxious, and wanting.
“Our souls feel this lack when we act unethically, behaving in ways that diminish our spirits and dehumanize others.”
My relief was followed by the heaviness of lost time. I missed the opportunity for closeness and connection on that day, to love my siblings at a time when we were all together. To love elder family members who are even more aware of the preciousness of time. To love the children.
The children who are watching and learning from us.
This is the path of self-inquiry. Being willing to investigate feelings and questioning behaviors without judgment or a sense of condemnation. A large part of it, unfortunately, is marinating in discomfort for as long as it takes, waiting to behold the truth like a white whale surfacing.
You can’t chase it; the truth comes on its own time.
So when I pulled The Crumbling, and it asked: What inauthentic behaviors, beliefs, and values do you need to let go of? I knew the integrity of my foundation needed my my attention. My softness.
Like any good card reading, many questions (rather than answers) followed, inquiries that could only be answered by me.
Why didn’t I make a different choice? I didn’t want to miss out on having fun with my family.
What drew me into this game? The desire for material gain i.e. presents. Wanting to fit in.
What values did I believe I was aligning with? Quality time with loved ones.
What values was I actually aligning with? Materialism. Conformity.
How did that make me feel? Mean. Sick to my stomach. Unable to relax or soften…
When I choose differently next time, what will that look like?
Me, on a couch in the middle of a warm conversation or
Around the snack table, listening with my full presence or
Joking, drawing, running with the kiddos..
Or listening to elders, making and sharing memories that resonate with goodwill or
Singing. Playing music. Inviting others to play.
Yes, behaving this way requires more intention. More courage. Less ego.
It takes decisiveness to align with love.
And I’m done being uncertain.
Because for me, it’s worth it every time.
Love is worth it, every time.