Last night I was thinking about the food bank, and the hungry people right here in Vancouver. I could not help but notice the absurdity of my storage of food, while people around me don't have enough to eat. I wanted to give some food to the food bank. But, I could not seem to find my natural space in the give and take of life. I spent a little too much time philosophizing, afraid to hear what my heart had to say.

So I sent out a little prayer and made a unique decision to flip open a tarot book that my nanna had given me to a random page. (I should note that I don't usually use this book because I figure if there's something that I need to be aware of, it will manifest in other ways. I have flipped through it though and found that it's rather ambiguos and abstract).

So, feeling... distraught and confused, and longing for a peaceful place within, I opened to (in, Guide to Tarot of the Sephiroth) pg 120, which says:

The place of dis-ease caused by the misdirection, mismanagement, and corruption of physical resources. Come here to look into the mirror... to see yourself and your own dis-ease.

I enter to find an old miser in rags, hoarding tons of treasure. More people are there, all in the same state. I concentrate on following my guide, who shows me many rooms filled with treasure. He no longer sees the treasure as a resource, but as an end in itself. He only sees the need to keep it for himself, and he recognizes and delights in keeping it from others, to their detriment.

Josephine Mori and Jill Stockwell

I am that Old miser, and despite my treasure, I feel as though I have clothed myself in rags.