Nine of Clouds (Swords) in Osho Zen Tarot: Postponement
Above: Four of Clouds (Air/Swords) from the Osho Zen Tarot: postponement.
It’s interesting how I can dither about going outdoors. It often seems that stepping outdoors is something that needs to fit around the rest of my life, even though I do my best to feel connected with Nature.
If you’ve read this blog before, you are probably aware that I experienced something of a ‘nature awakening’ in my late 30s, and that before that, I was very much a creature of the indoors. Truth be told, I still am a bit: I love the cosiness of home, I adore nesting on the sofa with a book and relaxing with my cards laid out on my desk. I’m a big fan of the cold part of the year for that reason – winter is my favourite season, or more specifically, late autumn/early winter (although I am aware that it really wouldn’t be if I was a wild animal out there; this is human privilege talking!).
When I was younger, the outdoors didn’t always feel like a safe place to be, but home definitely was. So it stands to reason that this pattern has stayed with me and lingered in my subconscious mind.
And so I often have a tendency to become the Four of Clouds in the Osho Zen Tarot when it comes to Nature connection. In the corner of my eye, in the back of my mind, I am aware of the vibrancy and aliveness that I often feel when outdoors. It can be at its most powerful when I am down by my favourite tree in the local glen, the Mother Tree. In my body, a sort of softening occurs, and all that is left in me is a sense of pure beauty, of warm energy, of love.
At other times, it might just be about stepping into the garden in the winter, wrapped up warm, to look up at the stars. Not to think about what is out there in the Universe, just to feel my smallness, to remember the mystery of all of that up there (and down here too).
In the moments before stepping out, when I am procrastinating about it, I am like the grey woman in the image, blended with the artificial stillness of my indoor world (which, of course, is always a part of Nature too). The outdoors becomes a wild thing that is for another time. I’ll choose the cosy option, no? Isn’t it nicer in here, where I am safe and warm?
And then, bam, within moments of being outdoors, I can feel it, that vibrancy, the colours, the wind on my skin, the scents, the amazing energy! It’s funny how I can never quite remember the energy of the great Earth with my mind alone. I just can’t recall that feeling when I’m inside, not really. It’s my body that remembers it, and it is only triggered when it is there, when it senses the vastness.
In the image here, the woman is already outdoors, wandering perhaps through hills or moors, putting off connecting with the beautiful life around her, which is put away in her mind like the image in the frame/box to her left. Perhaps she is lost in her thoughts, worrying about that tiny incident that happened at work last week … or stressing over how many things she needs to do when she gets home. She’s there, but she isn’t there. She is postponing her life, choosing the fantasy of the future and the memories of the past. Her thoughts have hypnotised her, turning a world of colour into dull grey, turning the stunning green land into nothing more than a stage for her internal drama.
Above: the Pentland Hills behind the trees of Temple Glen, Midlothian, Scotland.
And so just getting myself out there isn’t enough. That’s just the first thing that I postpone. BEING out there is the next step, the second thing that gets postponed. So I put the phone on silent. I try to be mindful of the crap that pops into my head and takes me away to somewhere that doesn’t really exist. I focus on how my steps feel, the inhale and exhale of my breath. I connect with the feeling of my bones as they move, the temperature of the crisp air against my skin. I will often forget myself and drift away into the usual human hallucinations, but I vow to come back, not to postpone being here on this amazing planet any more than I can help. And whether it is for a few minutes looking at the sky, or a longer walk in the lush woods, I never, ever regret stepping into Nature and really connecting.
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
