Strength

Strength.

What makes one person strong? And one person weak?

Oft times, I feel like a blade being tempered in fire. The searing heat (rooted in emotion?), the steady hammer-blows (akin to my heartbeat), the shaping of white-hot metal (mettle?), followed by the shocking plunge into a bucket of ice-cold water.

Which begs the question, if I am a blade being forged, then to what ends am I being forged?

I have recently taken up the art of tarot (and there is no doubt in my mind, that it is an art). The cards do not so much tell the future as provide a new perspective - which, for those of us who believe our perceptions create the future, amounts to roughly the same thing. Tarot is similar to the inkblot test used in psychology. The meaning of the card is secondary to your reaction to the card. A flower means one thing to me, another to you, and another as a physical manifestation of the Universe.

But I wander from my main point . . .

While I do not believe our destinies are sealed the moment we are born, I decided to follow the tarot exercises for the selection of a personality card and a soul card, all based off of the numerology of my birthdate. According to Tarot for Yourself by Mary Greer, you calculate your personality and soul cards by adding your birthday together as day, plus month, plus year. Suffice it to say (since I am choosing not to reveal the exact date of my natal celebration), my first set of numbers adds to 1988, which, added together horizontally is 26, which added together is 8. If your number is more than 23 (which mine was 26), then your personality and soul card are one and the same - giving extra emphasis and focus to that number.

8 is Strength.

Aha! But there are other cards to calculate, such as my Zodiac card - which is . . . um . . . 8 - Strength.

I am beginning to see my problem.

And for those who have read my earlier post regarding arachnaphobia . . . I am afraid of 8 legged critters with bodies that are two circles stuck together - like the figure 8.

And I have always been fascinated by the google, symbol of infinity, which looks like . . . ummm . . . a figure 8.

Strength is not always a blessing. Strength often combines with responsibility, and is drinking buddies with leadership.

So many times, I have been told that I am strong.

So many times, I have weathered the flame, the hammer, and the critical shock. I have seen my soul shattered, and put the pieces together again. I have learned to excise pieces of my personality, to mercilessly cut apart my own inner workings, and to sew together the gaping holes of spiritual injury.

But there is a price. There is always a price.

My strength has come at the cost of my emotions. And my challenge now is to break through the self-imposed isolation. Once, when I was young, I thought I had found the solution in cutting off all emotion. If I did not care, then no one could hurt me. And now . . . now, I realize that I cannot touch anyone else either, through my barriers of glass. My barriers are thick. I built them well. And shattering them will echo the earlier shattering of my soul. I am not yet sure if I am ready for yet another round of fire, hammer, and rigid form.

It is a delicate process, forging a sword, without destroying the metal.

I must take care not to cut myself.