“Dance of Miriam,” Marc Chagal
I started to write this informative chatty post about the role plagues play in the Passover story, in which when Jews survived against all odds. About how Miriam, from whom I take my Jewish name, led women to safety. And about how this week in so many faiths is about rebirth, realignment, re-rising. It’s all true.
But really I’m floored.
It’s Passover and I’m alone. I don’t usually mind being alone, even during this COVID-19 Crisis. I’ve called myself a child of the universe since I was 8 and realized that the sparkly warmth I always felt was the love of the universe holding and helping me through all kinds of unseen and unexpected obstacles. That it was okay that no one around me could love my sooth-saying, larger-than-life self. That it was okay that other Jews couldn’t accept this tall, blond child of an Ashkenazi secular Jew and a tall blond woman of Sioux and Scottish descent. Because the universe had my back.
The universe for whom God or even G-d is a perfectly handy nickname.
But on Passover things got sad every year. Everyone else would disappear from school for what seemed like the Jewish Thanksgiving and I would feel the full extent of that space yawning between me and everyone and everything else–even my ancestral traditions. And today I am sadder than I’ve ever been.
Yes, this is a day to honor our will to survive and thrive. But I’m flattened by the death count. By the viral load palpable in the air. By our dwindling resources. By those still not respecting social-distancing as others suffer and sacrifice so much.
So today is both sad and hopeful. Many of us will survive as Jews survived those plagues all those centuries ago. Some of us will even rise to build a better world, a finer day. But on this night of Passover, instead of sharing a seder via Zoom or some other doggedly cheerful activity, I am letting my reikitty baby me. Because broken hearts need to be heeded when you can’t yet heal them. Chag Pesach Sameach.
To schedule a reading about how to better serve yourself and others in this time of great need and great change, book here. No one is turned away due to lack of funds.
Tomorrow is May Day, a day of growth, fertility, abundance, divine feminine energy, and lush lovely love! Also known as Beltane and Mother Mary Day, this is my favorite holiday—one that celebrates the delicious union of Earth and Sky as well as the unofficial beginning of summer. Since I can’t celebrate it as I normally do—by drinking wine in nature with sister-witches—I invite you to be my coven instead. Which is to say: I wish to read for as many of you as possible so we may collectively harness the practical magic of peak spring. So if you’ve been thinking of a reading, book one for tomorrow. I guarantee you it will be the tarot equivalent of a peony.
