The Eight of Cups

Cups8Cut35As I sit quietly in the silence of the Hallway of Beginnings, I sense a deep and hypnotic feeling descending upon me. Indigo shades tweak my vision and catch my glance as they flutter in the corners of the stairwell, and the tiled and patterned floor glows with softly muted umber colours in the early light as the house sleeps around me.

This is a palace of infinite dreams, the endless voyages of the seeker of knowledge, the fearless fantasies of a child, and I come today to visit The 8 of Cups, the last but one of the suit of cups, and a card that I have been avoiding slightly, it must be said. Saturn in Pisces governs this card, earth and water, mud or clay, bog or vessel, drowning or quenching, which is it to be?

I walk today with a certain resignation, but strong nonetheless, for what can harm me here but the troubles of my own making. My journey has already led me to places that I could never have dreamed possible, giving me a view of life that has changed my entire world, shaping the endless possibilities that lie before me every day, into a place that I would now call home. To shape ones destiny through the use of vision could be a function of Saturn in Pisces, so I wonder if this card has an even greater part in my destiny than I currently realise, we shall see…….

I walk slowly into a place of damp and darkness, an ethereal mist swirling around me in a place and time that seems indecipherable. I cannot really see anything, so I stand and wait, trying to become one with the mist and the darkness, waiting for the vision to form. Very slowly, something starts to build in the grey gloom, a large shape is becoming more and more defined, slowly building itself out of the amorphous material of this world, and gradually revealing itself as a huge and tarnished copper chalice.

I walk towards it, and stand, small beside its towering form, wondering what I need to do now that I have found something to interact with. I gaze helplessly at its formidable metallic heaviness, its austerity and gloom. It seems like a gargantuan relic from some distant gothic past, an edifice that is in some way reminiscent of oppression. I sink helplessly down onto my haunches, as I know not what I can do now, faced with this enormous strategic difficulty, I sink down onto the damp grass and huddle. I gradually start to roll myself into a ball, smaller and smaller I go, until I start to sink down into myself. I go further and further, get smaller and even smaller, and wonder, not for the first time in these journeys, about the similarities to Alice in Wonderland. I wonder for a moment, whether I have taken a strange shrinking draft that has reduced me to the size of a molecule, a single atom, a building block of the universe, so that I can understand the structures and foundations that I need to build in order to secure my existence.

In my infinite smallness, I become aware of strange sounds, just out of reach, and I start listening. What starts as a gentle shy whisper, begins to get louder and louder, and gradually I realise that I can hear a voice talking quietly in the murk and darkness. I think that it must be Malachi and although I cannot see him at all, for I can see nothing in this tiny place that I am in, his voice becomes clearer and clearer, and the words start to form sentences. As I begin to listen to what Malachi has to say I also develop an awareness that I am actually floating, and I drift off into a place of relaxation as I listen to his words.

Malachi tells me rather sadly, that I have not been looking after the cups, and by this I think that he means the cups in the card. He tells me that the copper is sacred to Venus, and that the cups represent love, and that they have been broken and tarnished through a lack of care. He tells me that I have not respected them enough, and that I need to care for them again if they are to be able to hold water once more.

I lie there feeling sorry for myself, and also realise that I am actually floating in the large copper cup that moments before, I was huddled at the base of. I start to relax more and more, and as I do so, more words come. I ask him carefully whether he knows why I hadn’t cared for the cups, and he tells me that it is because I was so afraid of losing love. He said that I had tried to enclose the love, to hold it in, to stop it escaping, that I had tried to control it or limit its passage in some way, but in doing this I had also prevented renewal also. He said that the natural flow of this card which depended on constant fulfillment from a higher source had been interrupted, and had stagnated as a result. He said that loss was part of everything, part of the cycle of renewal, that you cannot impede the flow, for to find renewal, you must also experience loss, and that this was the structure of time itself, and was not to be halted. I ask how I can possibly move on, now that all the cups were so damaged, and he looked at me in the way that he has, and tells me to just relax.

I lie back in the warm and soothing water, which holds and supports me, and I disappear into its warmth and calm… I drift as if I am asleep in some kind of waking and watery dream, a womb of contentment that supports the myriad and infinite dreams of my life.

After some time I became aware that I am now walking along a road that leads to a small village up ahead of me. As I arrive at the center of the village, I can see that there is a small stream or river bubbling up from a well in the center, and that it spreads out, rushing joyously amongst the houses, giving life and freshness to the surrounding settlement, being the lifeblood of the place.

I must take care of the cups I think, love them and polish them, honour them and they will serve me well., as well as keeping the energy flowing. I look down along the stream, and can see further on that it flows past a large mill, set on the broad banks where the river widens, and if I am not mistaken I can see the Hermit Tree that I first saw in The 3 of Cups. I look back over my shoulder, but the huge Cup is nowhere to be seen,  only the pink and grey fluttering banner that shows me the portal for the way home. I resolve to keep the polish handy, and with pleasant memories of drifting into oblivion, listening to Malachi’s calm and guiding voice, I walk back through the doorway into The Hallway of Beginnings.



The Eight of Cups

The Lord of Abandoned Success

Saturn in Pisces

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