Four of Coins: Grasping the Earth
On the Isle of Barra – a white-beach island paradise in the Scottish Outer Hebrides (well, if Paradise were freezing cold) – I came across my favourite pebble of all time. In the shallow shoreline, where turquoise waters met immaculate white sand, it waited in the slowly retreating waves. Palm size and smooth, with stripes of black, silver and orange, this billion-year old mystery grounds me in my own body when I tune into its solidity, when I focus all of my attention onto it and allow it to merge with my flesh and my bones.
Above: my pebble from the Isle of Barra
During Tarot readings, either for myself or for others, I generally like to have a piece of Clear Quartz crystal near the cards. It seems to help me to feel grounded and in tune with my cards (although I am open to this being spiritual energy or just my own mind playing tricks on me: either way, it’s a kind of magic.) I went through a phase of crystal collecting, nabbing these beautiful, almost otherworldly formations that have grown over unfathomable stretches of time. But eventually, there came a point where I felt a bit like the figure in the Waite-Smith Four of Coins, and the Osho Zen’s Four of Rainbows. Holding ‘my collection’ close to me, whatever the reason or purpose, felt a bit grabby, like spiritual materialism.
There is sadness and grasping in these examples of the Four of Coins. The seated person peers at us, holding their collection tightly: the only sign of Nature in the Waite-Smith image is the distant hill or tree in the background, barely visible. A rare Waite-Smith card that is, interestingly, set in a city-scape. Look at the coins! My pretty crystals! And yet, as with all Tarot cards, there are a thousand other sides to the story. In my own case, I can recognise that I chose my first ever crystal when I was going through a mental health crisis. It genuinely helped, giving me something beautiful to hold on to: a vital connection to Earth energy and a sense of groundedness when I felt like I was going out of my mind.
Eventually though, I came to read about certain unethical practices associated with the procurement of crystals from far off-lands. (Although there are many ethical sources of crystals too, to be fair.) Unsure of where these beautiful slices of Earth were coming from, I opted instead for choosing beautiful and unique rocks that I would find on different beaches and lakesides across Scotland. I found that they offered the sense of groundedness just as effectively as any ‘pure’ crystal, and each came with (seemingly) their own energies, yet still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was like the figure in the Waite-Smith Four of Coins, grasping, holding on, contributing to a greedy mindset that doesn’t help me in the bigger picture. I started to wonder if unnecessarily moving things from Nature might be harming little creatures I’m unaware of. I’m not an animist really (although honestly, I’m open to everything), but I do believe that there is much that we don’t know about the workings of the Earth. How do I know that the stone wasn’t happy where it was, by the water? With regards to crystals, how do we know that they are not serving some important purpose before they are torn from their homes, where they have sometimes lived for millions of years? On a (pseudo, probably) scientific level, I wonder if the time will come when we will wish we had left them in the ground, discovering that they are serving some important, physical purpose for the ecosystem that we don’t yet understand. Almost everything else on Earth plays its part, no? Why do I need to grab everything that I want and take it home with me? Is it my right to do that? What kind of mind-seeds does that sort of grabbing plant in me?
Above from left to right: Four of Pentacles/Coins/Rainbows cards from Tarot of the Cat People, Osho Zen and Waite-Smith Tarot.
I love my rocks and crystals. I treat them with care and love. And if you have them, then you are blessed. I hope I do not cause you to feel bad about having your little earthy friends nearby. I still take the occasional stone from the beach or the riverside. I sometimes ask it if it’s happy to come with me, and see how my intuition feels in response, noticing any feelings that arise. Of course, I could easily be projecting the answer that I want onto the process (they usually say ‘yes’ funnily enough!). However, at the very least, when I feel that the answer is ‘no’, perhaps I am subconsciously tuning into a sense of other little animals or life-forms living nearby and relying upon it in some way. Or perhaps the stone is saying ‘no’? For this reason, I always ask my ecotherapy clients to be careful and mindful before moving anything around in Nature, and never to pick live things, not even a weed.
Holding the solid earth close to us is essential and beautiful. A little bit of everything is fine in my opinion. We are animals and we need to be soothed, we like to grab things that help us, and why not. But Buddhism teaches that there is a grasping and clinging mentality in almost everything that we do, which causes us a sense of constant dissatisfaction, a sense that there is always something else that we need before happiness can be attained. Greed can easily spill into my connection with rocks and crystals, and I think it can for all of us. So let’s love our earthly beings, our rocks, our home plants – ‘our’ pets, too – but I’d like us all (including myself) to be more mindful of our beautiful procurements, too, and sometimes say no. It’s a hard balance to find, and self-compassion is important. Those figures in the Waite-Smith’s Four of Pentacles and the Osho Zen’s Four of Rainbows might seem a bit mean and grabby, but they are probably suffering, too.
That’s all for now, friends. Thank you for being here – and please check out my Therapeutic Tarot Sessions and my courses embracing Tarot and Nature if you’d like us to work together. You can also sign up for the Tarot Blog newsletter (different to my main newsletter) below to receive occasional email updates (roughly monthly) with the latest posts.
Smiles from Scotland,
Stephen
