On the eve of chemo/radiation, an Oracle spelling out in chilling clarity a snapshot of my present moment.
My Significator, the Magician. The card that covers me: the Ace of Swords.
The III of Wands, crowns me, the III of Cups is my foundation. Behind me, the IV of Wands, ahead, the II of Wands.
The X of Swords, me. The II of Pentacles, my environment. The Ace of Pentacles, my hopes and fears. The IX of Swords, the final outcome.
There was a card left in the case. The Lovers.
It made sense This was no longer a part of my life, not a vector intersecting the pathway that unfurled before me.
Like birth, like morning coffee, ahead lay a solitary path through ever-changing moods and mysterious worlds to my eternal and eternally changing home.