Existential dread, zines and other such things
This morning as I worked through the kitchen, putting dishes away, I started to get that nagging feeling that my spiritual awakening was just leading me to the realization that this place called Earth is a cosmic joke. Honestly, the bureaucracy of it all.
But it does feel like a joke, in the sort of way where it feel as though a stone is sinking in my stomach. It feels like a joke that my hands hardly ever sink into the earth. That I have only seen the ocean once, for about five minutes, just long enough to run through the salty waves before saying goodbye. That I spent my whole like waiting for the chance to escape the town that felt like a cage, only to feel relief upon returning years later…because I was trying to escape myself.
And this is just through the lens of my experience. This doesn’t even include the juxtaposition of horrors and beauty throughout the rest of the world. Yes…a cosmic joke.
It’s at this point in my morning routine that I stopped to sit with my cards and my journal. I wanted a way to work through this. I wanted to root back into the ground because I know that existential dread doesn’t help me, or anyone else for that matter.
The sun and the two of swords hopped out of the deck, with the two of swords landing on my lap and the sun landing face down on the ground. This felt important. I laid them side by side, and then intuitively pulled the ace of wands.
Well…shit.
Upon looking at these cards within the context of where my mind was going just before, I realize that it’s my choice to walk away from this line of thinking. Oh, sure. I can move in the direction of “it’s all pointless and unfair” but that doesn’t lead anywhere good. It certainly isn’t helpful. And it will probably end up with a self-pitying shame spiral for the next week or so.
Or, I can remain calm. I can approach these feelings with curiosity. I can remember what brings me joy. I can engage with what helps me feel alive. I can create art. I can write. It all helps bring me back into my body (especially collage) and it all helps me reconnect with collective.
I guess this essay is sort of my declaration of choosing this second path.
Ultimately, it will be my capacity to sit with opposing truths; such as the fact that there is so much cruelty and injustice in our modern world along with the idea that sitting with my scraps of paper and a cup of coffee brings me joy, that will keep me centered. This is what will allow me to stay present instead of checking out. I drank away nearly ten years of my life. I know enough — with or without spirituality — to know that I do not ever want to do that again. Numbing isn’t worth it. We can hold the ache as well as the joy.
Prompts
Reflect on your spiritual journey. Perhaps it is just beginning. Perhaps you’re in the thick of it. How does it weave itself into your daily life? In what ways do you stay grounded with the present moment?
How can you call your energy back when you feel yourself drowning in existential dread? What is a good way to remind yourself to step back into the role of The Observer to keep yourself from drowning?
What choices lie before you? What is going to lead you to a space of expansion, creativity and joy? Are there any options behind secret door number three, that perhaps you don’t see because you’re too close to everything? Step back and observe. You don’t have to rush.
Other Updates
Two days ago I pulled out a pack of cards that have been sitting on my shelf for nearly two years. I had bought them to attempt to use them for divination, however I found that I wasn’t interested in yet another system with lists of meanings. I found what I needed with the tarot, and the oracle decks that I had. However, I wanted something more personal. So, I decided to use my abstract collage to begin building a personal oracle deck. So far I feel deeply connected to each card. I have done 20 now. Below is a YouTube short showcasing the first 16.
I also have begun to work on a new zine. It will contain a lot of collage and some writing. I want to head into the new year making a whole lot of zines. It was just last year that I made my first one (available Here) and I fell in love with the process. There is still the issue of getting a working printer (I loathe going to the print shop, which is a 30-minute drive from home and often includes an impatient line forming behind me), but one idea I want to bring to fruition in 2024 is building a zine club. I am unsure what that will look like, but please stay tuned. If you haven’t subscribed to this newsletter, please do so.
There has been a lot of talk on the internet this year of moving away from social media, specifically Instagram. This is not a move that I am wanting to make, however I do know that I often feel the restraint of the algorithm. In the interest of sharing my work more freely, I will also be posting more informal writing and several more photos of ongoing work Here. It’s not my intention to inundate you all with different platforms, but I do find that working in different spaces provides me with the freedom to share what I want, how I want.
Finally, please consider visiting my shop for your holiday gift needs. You can share the wonder of all of my art experiments and zines at https://mothandmagick.etsy.com.