siento que ...
Well... if it isn't me writing again! Did you miss me? Because I sure missed you. And you are in your right as a reader to question if I missed you that much, why didn't I come back to write to you sooner? And to that question, I have a lot of excuses, but the truth is, I haven't been able to get back on the computer to write, which is something I find incredibly stupid, to say the least. I am constantly on another computer, writing code and making slides to explain things to people who don't care much, while applying to jobs and sending out CVs like a madman. And there it is again, the same underlying tone in most of my articles, the obvious lack of time for myself.
And I do take time for myself, I promise I do. I have endless conversations with myself that make my mind feel like a tennis court (because the ball keeps going back and forth). I also take time to cook, take care of my health, practice self-care, read, etc, which are all mundane, routine things, when you think about them. So, if we remove those things and hang out with friends, where would that leave me?
It doesn't take much to figure out the space where I am.
As I mentioned in my last article, I am in a new kitchen, with my apron hung next to the drying rack where my dishes sit. What does a chef do when their kitchen closes? Once all the dishes are sent out, mouths have been fed, and the staff has gone home, where do you go after the lights turn off? You might think that the chef goes home to do it all over again the next day, and the next, and the next... And you are right, if I were talking about a miscellaneous chef, but as always, I am not.
I am the chef, if that part wasn't clear enough.
I find myself in the kitchen despite having thrown in the towel. Cold aluminum surfaces and hall entry pantries surround me, a reminder that my time in what is yet another new home is running out. In the past, I would have been fine; I would have emptied the pantries, kept feeding mouths, and moved on to the next restaurant. Unfortunately, there is no other restaurant that awaits me in its kitchen. I don't remember what this feeling is like. It's foreign to me to accept that all the routes I pictured for myself, all the possible recipes and experiences, will go on without me.
This reality hasn't been easy to bear, to say the least. For the last couple of months, I have watched as doors opened and closed right before me, and it makes me wonder if they were open in the first place. Did I miss that the doors were cracked and not open? Did I overestimate my chances of success? Was I blindly leading myself down a road that wasn't meant for me?
The way not one single restaurant door opened to take me in, you'd think I'd never cooked a dish in my life. That statement could not be farther from the truth.
I've approached this feeling from different angles and perspectives, seeking out advice from mentors, friends, family, and even my trusted tarot reader, and then some. My tarot reader explicitly said, and I quote, "It feels like every time you ask for a reading, we end up talking about the same things."
First of all, ouch!
Second of all, she wasn't far from the truth.
A couple of months after that conversation, I turned to another tarot reader in the midst of a church rave. (Those words don't usually go together, and I don't expect you to believe that I had my cards read in a church while there was a DJ playing house music at the altar, but to each their own.)
I'm going to give you a minute to guess what the cards said...
If you guessed that the cards said anything different than my reading in January, well, you clearly haven't stuck around enough to know how things work in my life. That's okay, I pretend I don't know either, and then act shocked when things go exactly as they did before.
I'm not going to stretch it out any longer than I already have, because time and time again, the universe has the same message for me. There seems to be a barrier stopping me from reaching what's meant for me. The worst part? It's self-imposed. Here I am, for the millionth time, getting in my own way. It's frustrating because I have no idea when or where this barrier is before me. When did I impose it? How long has it been there? Why is it there? How do I get past it if I can't see it?
So many questions, and even more time spent wondering.
Ten of wands represents the burden I carry, and that I must inevitably release. The nine of Pentacles shows who I am under all that burden. Lastly, the ten of cups is where I am meant to be. This is relatively simple, no? I let go, embrace that I am full of greatness and abundance, and then the barrier will lift and I'll be free to enjoy all of the good that I have done and am.
Well! It's hard when you see your abundance as the very weight you carry. Yes, I succeeded, yes, I got myself this far, and yes, I am proud of myself, even if I don't show it.