Queen of Wands
Morning tarot ended with an interesting card today. The piece of the minor arcana that has always resonated with me deepest stared back from my coffee table with a single eye drilled right in the middle of a volcanic head, offset with a pair of thick supple lips. Ever inviting, but always challenging me to a higher self. A self for others.
As the matriarch of wands her common mantras often hold words of inspiring passions, leaderships, and determination. Kathleen Hanna would call her the queen of the neighborhood. But in this particular deck she's always clutched one particular piece of poetry, "Lust is the liberating power by which she rests from her incompleteness...". I've always found myself razor focused on such a powerful line that I may have ignored all the things maintaining the base of her mountainous figure.
I reflected on my weekend, small crowd cheering for the other name I've chosen to carry. Uplifted by only my sickening vibe and treelike figure, I become their perfect choice to fell a wicked clown. Some dirty-work and a quick pin smashed their hopes but not quite their dreams. Little girls wanted photos with their new 2 minute hero "Harper Hemlock" while fiendish men found themselves lusting once again for a kind of woman they've never been presented with. I was proud of her, although she could have worked the crowd more, for listening and telling her story all the same. To revisit Kathleen, my greatest ally in wrestling called me the "rebel girl" when describing my gimmick to strangers. It struck so deep and validating that it became my music choice for the stage, the man behind the curtain failed to find the actual music I've been given for such things, so it seemed like an inevitable fit. After the match through idle conversation, that same gorgeous ally blurted a truth I still haven't been able to accept... "you know you're way too cool for him yeah?"... Across state lines in a courtyard of strangers and friends alike, they believed in the queen of wands.
Today I went out for my usual mid work smoke. Sucking in my 10 minutes of relief under the hot sun I caught the attention of a stranger. A doll who, like me on a slow day, hadn't shaved her face but still carried herself with the grace and confidence that only we can, came and asked to bum one. I was filled with pride that she had chosen me to confide her trust, talk shop about hormones, ask about local bars, and wish each other safe travels. She saw the queen of wands.
After work I went grocery shopping. Never able to kill the line cook in my heart I grabbed a beercan and then began digging around for whatever freezer meal came paired with mashed potatoes. Clutching my small haul I was approached by a girl with pink hair and a half shave, she pointed to a pin on her coat, the same pin she had given me when we shared a mosh pit together at the aquabats a month and change before. I remembered her quickly, she just wanted to say hi and acknowledge how much we dug each others style. An age gap of a decade or more between us. Today, at the grocery store, she saw the queen of wands.
I have no choice but to keep burning. Maybe I am cooler than I'll ever like to believe...