Four of Swords

In the True Heart Intuitive Tarot, we see a completely black figure (almost like a shadow embodied) sitting in the center of the card in a meditative position—cross legged, hands face down on knees, eyes closed. They are levitating above the ground that appears to be sand with four black birds flying around their head. There are four swords, hilt side up, with their blades plunging into the sand; two are to the left of the figure, two to the right. Clouds under a sun in the middle of a blue sky are in the background.

This card immediately brings up one word for me when I see it: Rest. As I think further, how very appropriate that I drew this during Mercury retrograde where we are encouraged to reflect, review, reflect, rejuvenate, revise, regroup. 

The number four evokes an image of a square for me—stability, evenness, structure, containment, home. (Interesting that I feel such aversion towards the number, no matter the context.) The Swords’ element of Air—communication, mind, spirit, thoughts, intellect, ether. Also noticing the way the swords having connection with the earth seems to act as a tether, even while the person floats in liminal space. 

What do our minds need to rest and restore? What about our spirits? What is lost when we don’t create the time to reflect, rest, review, reset? What generational trauma may we be carrying that makes rest feel so very complicated? What current oppressions create the lie that there is simply not time to rest? What thoughts can keep us anchored even while we allow ourselves to float for a bit?

I think about where this card falls in the story of the Swords’ suite—directly after deep sorrow and pain, directly before more conflict, sadness, loss. How very critical then, this call to pause, go inward, reflect, give oneself time to recharge. How else will we have the stamina to see our stories (as individuals and as a community) through to their end?

I’m holding that, where I live, we are coming up on a year of this pandemic. The ways the truth about who our society sees as disposable have been made even more apparent. The continued injustice and denial of oppression. The people I used to call friends who were unable to honor the reality of what being Black in this country means. The grief, the loss, the disappointment. The heartbreak. And my sense that there is still very much more to come. I feel myself sigh, retract. Feel weary. I must rest if I hope to continue.

I’ll be honest—rest is a challenge for me. I get antsy, feel guilty, anxious, scattered, restless when I try to rest. As if a motor just won’t turn off in my brain. I have been continually called to the mat these last few years, but especially this one, to recognize that rest is a necessity, not a suggestion. That rest is key to liberation, a way to honor my ancestors, a way to ensure a different world for those who come after, a way to resist and dismantle a structure that was designed to consume and destroy me/us. I remind myself that it makes sense that rest can make me uneasy, that my system confuses the unfamiliar with danger. Remind myself that, with practice, I can shift this habitual response.

Denying myself rest and time to pause is harm. Over time, with practice, I can remember that truth.

(The Nap Ministry’s Tricia Hersey has supported me in making these connections, highly recommend checking them out if you haven’t.)

I’m currently trying to cultivate a practice where, every day, I make an intentional choice to take at least 30 minutes and attempt to rest. Sometimes that looks like me staring at the ceiling and being irritated the whole time. Sometimes, I feel my muscles start to relax. Sometimes, I cry. Sometimes, I begin to actually taste what restoration can feel like.

Even if 30 minutes isn’t available to you, I wonder if 5 minutes are? 2 minutes? If they don’t feel like they are— check in. Is that true? Is that your mind playing tricks on you? What does your spirit yearn for?

I was talking with Julianna Rose, creator of Four Twenty Tarot, yesterday and shared how difficult it can feel for me to dream, to imagine what I want/desire without clipping my own wings. I can’t help but imagine this is linked to my difficulty with rest. I’m reminded that creating chaos and maintaining a continued state of overwhelm is a tool of the oppressor.

How can an individual or community dream about creating a future when constantly in reactive or survival mode?

What expansive world could we create if we saw rest as sacred, imperative?

What dreams can come when we are rested?

What does rest look like for you? What comes up for you when you think about it? I’d love to know if you’d like to share.