Knight of Cups: Water Pilgrimage
Above: Artist and ecotherapist, Stephanie Whitelaw, at the 'Water Pilgrimage' ecotherapy event in September 2023, East Lothian, Scotland.
We walk as a silent group of six along the coast of East Lothian. On the other side of the great estuary lies the green hills of Fife. Rocky islands with dark histories peep out of the water like threatening whale-humps. Seals pop their heads out of the water, outraged at our audacity to walk so close to their underwater haunts; curlews call along the stony shoreline as we breathe in the salty air. In the distance, we can see the Bass Rock – home to the world’s largest colony of gannets – but we are not travelling quite that far today.
The five-mile walk begins at Musselburgh Lagoons, where old ash-depository dumps have become beautiful, thriving lakes where swans raise their cygnets. Geese honk and swoop down over our heads, causing us to duck in a moment of wild fear.
Mostly, we walk in silence, sketching our experiences during food breaks whilst checking in about our experiences on the walk. I stop us at a giant boulder in the Prestonpans shoreline called the Johnny Moat Stone, a natural landmark which has been steeped in myth and legend for a thousand years. I share its mysterious stories. We touch its rough surface as it towers above us, hanging on the shoreline on his side after toppling over from his old stony throne (he’s had a hard life, Johnny).
We continue the walk along rough concrete pathways, passing graffitied walls and an old power station. Eventually, we arrive at the sandy shores of Port Seton, where we paint the sand with water and walk into the freezing sea with our bare feet. We are chilled to the bone but it is the only way to end our day. Water Pilgrimage, the event was called.
The call of the water is strong in us. We need to make contact with the place where our ancestral beings came from, those first land creatures that somehow crawled their way out of the sea, the call of the land becoming great.
It takes some kind of mini (or major) trauma for us to dislike open water in its natural state: either a trauma to the water itself, such as pollution, or a trauma to ourselves, such as a scary experience. Having said that, I used to be afraid of the open sea, without any rhyme or reason why (Perhaps Jaws got me to me.)
If we asked the Knight of Cups what he could teach us about nature connection, this traveller of the water element might represent a pilgrimage to the waterside. (Along with a thousand other things, of course.) He could represent our need to be there, to take a long pilgrimage or a holiday to see the clear liquid of a far-off land.
Above: Jodorowy/Camoin Tarot de Marseille
In the Jodorowsky/Camoin version Tarot of Marseille, he marches to the left of the card – the past – holding up his large cup as an offering, looking strained, miserable. The earth beneath his feet is trouble for his horse: in some Marseille decks, he is in an orange desert; yellow flowers push through the sand. In others, black earth thrives with colourful flowers, so beautiful that they should be celebrated, and yet they only serve to make the horse’s march troublesome as it hesitates. No water in sight: their pilgrimage to find it is long and – now nearing the end of their energy levels – they are still without resolution.
Above: Waite-Smith Knight of Cups
The Knight of Cups in the Waite-Smith Tarot is another kettle of fish. The horse marches to the right – the future – in a steady, easy procession. The Knight looks full of pride, the sky is a pale blue (it is always white in the Marseille), no rain is coming. (We don’t want water in that form right now, thank you.) He is forever arriving at flow of the river, steady and content, the gentle movement of the freshwater his only destination.
The posture of horse and rider are almost identical to the Death card in the RWS deck: transformation is found at the waterside, even if just in those few moments when we dip in after a long journey. Endorphins swim through our bodies, we splash like children again.
Finally, our true home is found.
Above: Another image from the Water Pilgrimage ecotherapy event in East Lothian, 2023.
That’s all for now, friends. Thank you for being here – and please check out my Tarot Therapy Sessions 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 email updates on every new post.
Smiles from Scotland,
Stephen
