14th of November, and the Knight of Cups rides in. I don’t draw this card often, so I’m studying every detail with fresh eyes. Cups signify community, union, and partnership. He’s more than a mere Knight; he wears the winged helmet of Hermes, the messenger, or perhaps Cupid.
He looks intently into his golden goblet. It appears full, and he has kept it upright despite navigating what looks like a very winding road, represented by the serpentine threads on his blue tunic, tipped with three-petalled white flowers—possibly Fleur-de-lis. He is mounted on a splendid white horse, and in the distance rise white mountains. Near him stands a tree ablaze with autumnal colour.
Two thoughts immediately surface: Winter is coming (very Game of Thrones), and keep holding on. It has been a journey, but I’ve held on this long.
Wait—I’ve just spotted it. It’s not a winding path ahead, but a meandering river. That changes the dynamic. He has to cross this water to reach the mountains. I love how much detail is packed into a single card, allowing my eyes and thoughts to get completely lost. I keep returning to the reflection of the sun on the gold goblet, which forms a shining star.
My intuition taps in: Hold on. Hold on tight and keep going. Don’t lose what you already have in the Goblet. You’ve made it this far, and there’s a way to go yet, but you have a sturdy saddle, a magnificent horse, and a wonderful cloak protecting you from the elements.
The Knockout Blow of SAD
Truth be told, I’ve lost touch with my bearings these last few days. Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) has taken over, and the process seems to hit at base instincts—the lower levels of Maslow’s hierarchy. I’d been happily skipping along at self-actualisation, right at the top of that pyramid, and boom. SAD comes along and delivers a knockout blow to my psychological and self-fulfillment needs.
How lucky I am, though, to have the security and safety of my wonderful little house, whose roof did an amazing job keeping out all that rain last night. I have food (insane carb cravings at the moment), warmth, and I’ve been listening to my body, taking plenty of rest.
I suspect this is the natural order. Isn’t it completely sensible to enter into a ‘hibernation preparedness’? Is that what SAD is—an evolutionary imperative to get us humans ready for the cold and dark?
I can roll with that, but why does it feel so harsh and depressing? I guess it’s because modern life isn’t built around sensible patterns of tuning into the seasons. I’ve been on somewhat of a juggernaut path—The Chariot on a roll—that hasn’t taken into consideration a necessary period to just completely stop, adjust, and prepare for downtime. I wonder about my DNA; I think I’m more of a natural creature, where a return to a more ancient life would be easy for me. Modern life feels like a bit of a fight sometimes.
The Milk Analogy: Too Much Choice
My thoughts are muddled now, but persistent lines of thought where I’m daydreaming of late revolve around water. There’s too much in some places and nowhere near enough in others.
And choice. We simply have too much choice. Well, some of us do.
How many freaking types of milk, for example, do we need?
There was a time when milk was just milk, no options. Or perhaps just the animal it came from, depending on what you or your neighbour kept. Later, when I was a kid, you went to the shop to fetch a pint of milk, took back the empty glass bottle, and collected a new one. That was it. That milk did the job—it provided for the tea, the cereal, the rice pudding, the whatever else.
And now? How many freaking types of milk are there? Has this made people happier? Healthier? I’d say not.
Tech, AI—again, choice, choice, choice. We are absolutely bombarded by so much, way too much, and it’s breaking us. My gut tells me we are being made really ill by all this progress, all this choice in milk and information.
And it’s often pseudo-choices. AI is allowing people to take shortcuts, getting to knowledge without going through the process of learning. That’s going to prove not just stupid, but dangerous.
Leaning Into Base Needs
I’m losing my thread, but I want to go back to the central instruction: Just stop fighting the SAD.
I’m going to lean in, roll with my base needs, and let go of my aspirations for the higher levels of Maslow’s hierarchy for a while. And that’s okay. I don’t need to try and keep up with a crazy world that doesn’t tune into the seasons, or does so only artificially by telling us what we should be buying according to the seasons—creating a fake sense that seasonality still exists, but purely for the sake of profit margins.
I’m just going to hold on to the thought that my cup does runneth over.
The wisdom of the ladies today: Liz Dean suggests an offer or proposal. Sarah Bartlett asks if my intentions are idealised, and advises me to “keep it light, try to avoid your darker emotions.”
That last part doesn’t quite resonate, but the point of the exercise stands: I got a lot out of the card. I went in with nothing and managed to externalise a lot of thoughts. I feel a lot lighter for those thoughts coming out. Whether they perfectly align with the card doesn’t really matter.
I do feel I have set my intentions for the day. And that’s what counts.