Girl Story Part 1
I’ve been lost in a mirror for the muses. Prowess projected through feminine tones. Exhausted illusions have taken up space in my brain, and forced out my core identity. A frustrating experience, but not worse off than the other side. Nobody lives well in a society possessed by the visual story of Woman.
The world submits to reflections of women on pedestals. Yet, I was primed to be resentful of my history. Not my history as an individual, but rather, the history of womankind. As if I’m to truly process a backstory which has been redacted. Is this the shiny wonder that has been taken from us? Is this why I am to be charmed by diamonds? Regardless of the answers, I choose to free myself from being jaded about it.
In my quest to view life from a more neutral gaze, my eyes first stumbled on the four queens in tarot. Much like historical figures, their mythos seeps into everyday life.
The Queen of Swords sits atop her throne of clouds. Blessed by air signs and water. Her presence illuminates the sky and subjects below. A powerful protagonist. An enigmatic scapegoat. An entitled martyr…
Our mother of death turns alpha to omega. She is a light bringer, fanning the flames for the human condition. At her worst, she is a lonely widow with a double-edged scythe. At her best, she is your eternal heroine and queen of the butterflies.
If you are lost, or just held hostage by society, look for her guidance by speaking the truth. She will liberate your mind, if you do not covet your heart. For this reason, she is dearest in mine.
The Queen of Wands is the prophet’s priestess. Often enveloped in sunflowers to show the growth and vibrancy of her spirit. Our star has mastered confidence through experience, a true leader of the pride. Feline energy was once exclusively associated with men, but that is difficult to imagine in a world full of her ferocious light. Her notable companions are either a black cat, or leopard.
Her tranquil soul controls her throne’s flames. Her crown is the thread which binds the twelve zodiacs. Maybe they’ve all stumbled into her web, along with the rest of us. She leaves us here, with the beauty of knowing that the wilderness cannot be domesticated.
The Queen of Cups offers the love we’ve always envisioned. Water within water, wheel within wheel. Receptive, and knows when it counts to go with the flow. Gentle, compassionate, yet secretive. Classic ideal incarnation of woman.
It is easy to get lost in her tears—she could move mountains just to drown you in the ocean. The queen of hearts, and all the blood pumping through them. This is what makes her empathy limitless. In turn, she projects the reality of a dream within a dream.
The Queen of Pentacles/Coins/Disks is planted into the earth on her stone throne, cradling gold. Mother nature, mother earth, Gaia. A homemaker whom I strangely believe embodies adventure.
One must know who they are to exude her energy. She encapsulates the feminine form in all its natural glory through prosperity, fertility, and security. Though, it is difficult for me to comprehend her worldview. I initially felt shame over my lack of relatability to this figure, but now I am grateful for it. She is a reminder of why a cult ideology could never work. Why mass global customs for female culture will always fail. I am a woman, not a monolith.
The four queens are icons woven into the fabric of space and time. Pillars which we may only stretch in vain to reach. They do not swoop down for us, but rather blend into one another to communicate their message to the world.
Combined into one unit while remaining individual beacons of hope. Mysteriously lifting the veil between drunken society and spiritual sobriety. Their language is performance. One great ritual which chants the story of woman. For better and worse, it has always been here. Moving all the pieces, while remaining untouchable. Like all the lost photographs of brides in the pockets of soldiers’ uniforms. Which makes me wonder, are they sanctuary or mirage?