The Awful Truth Is…

Really not any better to be the teller or the told in that case. Awful truths are just that–awful.

I’ll never forget when my mother told me…read more.

zentangle008Today’s card is one another of my Zentangles. Tomorrow’s will be as well just in case you were wondering. 😀 This one is an odd one because I was challenging myself to use new patterns. I feel slap in love with the one that makes the wavy fans.

In a way, this might be the Wheel of Fortune since I think the center wheel looks a bit like a ferris wheel. But those three stripy things could be the Three of Wands as well.

What do you think? What does this tangle say to you? Where does your mind go when you look at it? With the three hearts up in the right, maybe it is the Three of Swords before the betrayal, the heartbreak. Maybe it is that moment before we learn the awful truth.

Have you ever had to learn an awful truth? Sucks, doesn’t it?

Have you ever had to tell someone an awful truth? Sucks, doesn’t it?

Really not any better to be the teller or the told in that case. Awful truths are just that–awful.

I’ll never forget when my mother told me she had cancer. Well, no. That wasn’t the awful truth. That came later when she told me it was inoperable and that she was going to die.

Awful, I tell you. Simply awful. I remember doing my best to be brave and tell her I was optimistic. I know she knew that I was doing my best ostrich impersonation. She loved me and I loved her.

Fiercely. Fiercely enough to understand that as awful as that information was that nothing would ever stop either of us from loving the other.

Awful truths.

Yeah, I think this must be the Three of Swords for me. I know I asked you what you saw. I still want to know. Even if it’s an awful truth.

Zentangle, Arwen Lynch, 2013

Seek Joy, Y’all. Pass it on!

Curious about Zentangles? Learn more at

Grief, Windows & Curtains

Today’s card is a reminder that even in times of grief, there is hope. Here we see someone sobbing into their hands. He’s suffered an unimaginable loss. He is at the window and once he’s released that grief, he can look up and out.

When he looks up and out, he will see hope and possibility. He will remember that there are others who need him. He will be able to draw the curtain on this particular pain and move on.

Yesterday I learned of the death of someone I used to know. He was the son of someone who has become family to my family. I babysat for him while his dad dated my mom. That dating didn’t last, but the friendship did.

One thing I learned from my mother was how to maintain caring relationships past the point of being lovers. Not an easy thing to do when we grieve so hard over the loss. If you love and that love leaves (or you leave that love), it hurts. Even if it was the appropriate reaction–it still hurts.

When you find yourself in that position, remember that you can allow yourself to grieve because there is a window waiting for you. There will always be a window to show you hope and possibility. There will always be a curtain to draw over the grief so that it can fade into the past.

Be gentle with yourself and others today. Remind them that you love them–even if it makes the squirm with embarrassment. It’s important, y’all. You never know when that kind word will help ease some grief that they hold in secret.

I love you. Each of you. I’ve pulled the curtain over many a grief in my life as have each of you. Make sure the curtain stays down. Don’t keep peeking back into the dark, okay? Look out the window instead.

Seek joy, y’all. Pass it on.

3 of Swords, Rumi Tarot, Llewellyn, 2009