13/78 Surfer Tarot

Mayday, Mayday, Mayday * Beltane

Is it time to throw in the towel ?? Is it time to make that call, to let someone know that I need help !!

 

We are sleepless in America. We eat protein bars for breakfast and cereal for dinner. We can’t sleep and we can’t shit, or at least not very often or very well at that. We skip lunch for coffee and if and when we do eat, we opt for brown steak, brown potatoes and brown toast. If we’re “good,” we eat brown rice.

 

“Eat your vegetables” and your greens have gone the way of the Green Man and May Queen.

 

Too many of us are working two to three jobs, and which takes us right back to Haymarket Square in Chicago when anarchists and Mayday labor activists won an eight hour work day from what had been a capitalism mandated 14 hour work day, with little to no time off nor breaks, and let alone any days off.

 

We are one breakdown away from being broken down. And as machines once upon a time, replaced workers left and right, and made for worsening work conditions, workers are being left awash upon the new American diaspora, washed away by our new wave of AI (artificial intelligence). We still have what many refer to as “wage slavery,” and as concepts such as a maximum wage fail to find mindful foothold.

 

Are we in grave and imminent danger ?? Do we require immediate assistance ?? Have we lost control of this once “great” and most generous nation ?? Is this now most visible Republican procession the new Reds ?? With our man at the helm donning red golf or baseball (does it matter ?) cap, are we taking on water ?? Is the inconvenient truth that we are simply in wait of the Perfect Storm ??

 

What do we need here ?? We’ve got Trump, Kim Jong and Putin. Or how ‘bout China, Russia and the US, or just our good ol’ military industrial complex +Trump. What does that equal ?? Have we lost it ?? When do we hit the distress button/signal ?? Is FEMA gonna save us ?? Or who you gonna call ??

Nostradamus prophesized of the eagle and the bear, and whereas the Celts and the some others of us might (as of today at least) look upon Brigid and Cernunnos, and unto the celebration of Beltane.

 

As an American peoples, we have lost our connection to the environment. We are on the whole, disconnected from nature, and mostly without an appreciation for the cyclical nature of the seasons. We have little to no sense of community, save for this (little) electronic device we all now share.

 

Whatever happened to “come on baby light my bonfire ?? !!” Can we or will we ever reclaim our once upon a time American generosity and in lieu of an overgrown avarice and in the face of the unshared resources of a privileged few ?? Is now a good time to jump the cauldron and sow our new seeds ??

 

Whatever happened to the elation and revelry associated with our sex positive fertility rites ?? When we danced clock or sunwise ‘round the phallic inspired wooden Maypole ?? !! Are we not gay and merry upon the advent of May wildflowers !! Are we not grateful for the fae and happy to herald the newfound arrival of the faeries at work in the garden ?? Have we not come upon our holy grail ??

 

Ain’t this country great !! ‘Tis my ‘merika…. “sweetland of liberty and (our) noble free.”

 

(God help us.... please.)

Wipeout * XII

 

You’ve had enough, it’s getting dark and it’s time to go in, but you’re fatigued and have rubber arms. You’ve been overly cautious and feel the set waves have passed you over. You didn’t follow your gut and dismissed your intuition. You’ve been clinging to your security board, scared of what might happen. You can’t make the break. You’re unequipped and inexperienced, and you don’t know the lineup. You have been swept along over unfamiliar ledges and inhospitable boils. You feel singled out, like a lame duck. This is incomprehensible, unjustified, and unwarranted punishment. As surf underling you have underestimated the relationship of oxygen and water. What you took for granted and assumed as a given is about to leave a lasting impression, if not imprint. You not only risk scorn from others, but a date with destiny and your surfing waterloo.

 

You gave up everything to make it to the North Shore. You were stormrider who had been without swell for too long. But before you knew it you were welcomed by a two wave, hold down, and were spinning out of control. Expressionless like an underwater Mona Lisa, you held on and dug your fingers into your board as you surrendered your ambition to the Pacific and involuntarily endured your “Jacques Cousteau” conversion. There was no turning back. The arrow had been shot. Your eyes were closed and the waves passed. Hanging between the known and Unknown, with surfboard as dowsing stick, your waterlogged sensibilities left you resigned to the depths. You were sent to the rocks and beached. You attempted to salvage your lost board, while asking yourself, “free spirit and independent thinker, or prisoner of our fears and alien to our pain?”

 

You just had to have it. You were a wave hog with painted board and flashy wetsuit. But yet you let up in the tube. Show offs will not show up Mother Nature. You cannot dominate or dictate to the wave. Don’t mess with Mother Nature. Your imagination went out of bounds. Uncertainty came flooding in and you got the guillotine. Easy come, easy go, the ego has a hard fall. Your half stroke left you one paddle short, and you were mid face, suspended in mid air, hanging upside down by one foot with leash attached, and heading head first, to be buried ignominiously, via the inevitable face plant. You got yours. Annihilation was without allowance nor lament. You were going too fast. It was a hit and run. You were catapulted into an emotional chaos. Drowned in sorrow, your descent into the underwater world left you in limbo, no longer a creature of comfort.

 

The newly crowned underdog feels discriminated against, and suffers that martyrdom from the pleasure dome is a tough go. He laments the incomprehensible. He prefers the status quo of the happy drunk who is stoned immaculate. Avoiding a deep intimacy with Her, he now sits on the shoulder or in the channel, fearing for his loss of freedom. What he lacks is the knowledge that to get worked is how things work. The wipeout is our surf samsara. If you don’t fall you’re not surfing. You are not fully immersed until you wipeout. If you are willing to endure the fall from grace and a loss of dignity, if you refuse to sidestep the inevitable, if you know your flow will be interrupted, that you will be out of sync, and off balance, you will glean truth from inevitable consequence. Let go like its not even funny, love like there’s no tomorrow, ride like you’ve never been hurt, surf like nobody’s watching, and hoot like nobody’s listening, like it’s heaven on earth!.

animation (click on the above illustration for short vid !!) by Roy Gonzalez

Be unassuming! Surrender to your true nature. Surrender unto the Divine. By surrendering to the life process you fall in with cosmic order. Surrender to the pulse. Underscore the moment. grateful for our free will. We find our own truth for ourselves. You are the buried treasure. Relax in the unknowable depths and low points of the subliminal waterworld. Remain calm under turbulence. From third reef to the third eye, it’s all senses required. Transmute pain into melody. Let go into the expanse of the ocean. Be below it all. Humility spells a reversal of fortunes. You are forgiven, not forgotten. Tap into the collective unconscious. Understand you are master of fate. honest. Eventual outcome is assured. You will surface. Accept the outcome. Do not fight It. Be patient. Your purification is the turning point in your psychic life.

 

He who hesitates is lost. Don’t hold back, but don’t push it. What’s your hangup? Hang loose. Ask for help. Don’t force your way through confusion. Get guidance. Don’t force yourself to go out in unruly conditions. Surf gentle waves. Reevaluate. Surf inside. Learn your limitations. Wait for your wave, your tide, your wind. Know timing. Then take the plunge. Get back up on board and try, try again. There is always a next wave. Do not hesitate when it is time for action. Making yourself vulnerable is a dramatic step towards your growth. Be open to surrender. Face your destiny with surfboard as divining rod. Know that your cord is a reminder of our connection between body and soul. The rider is not a thinker. The incarnate life of a surfer is soul enriching. Give into the rhythm of the waves.

Box 6234 Alameda Ca 94501
949.610.2103

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