I think it goes something like this: there’s a stage where you go through and sort of pull up all the stakes out of the tent of what heretofore has been your “ordinary life.” This essentially has to do with rooting out base assumptions and patterns which have been implanted in you by culture, by society, family, by other people, and by past experiences. Rooting all those things out and transmuting them unleashes a torrent of creative energy - making you feel as though anything is possible and the world is your oyster. And it is… but unless you have strong discipline and *new rituals* and routines and assumptions to replace your old ones with, you run the very real risk of being swept away by the flood altogether. When everything becomes possible, everything can become sort of flat, sort of equal and motivation to do any particular thing may tend to evaporate.

I’ve been reading the Tao Te Ching again and again the past few days, and it seems to have great counsel for this process, and guides the initiate to channel their efforts in such a way as your life begins flowing with the natural order of things, wu wei - not forcing. Action through inaction. Advice such as this can be easily mistranslated into doing nothing, into sitting and just watching TV for the rest of your life. But inherent in such an interpretation is a certain laziness and an unwillingness to go out and do the work to make the potentials you now see before you into actualities. Really all you have to do - I think - is just take things step by step, one day at a time. Logical cause-effect sequences to float you from here to there, using natural forces, laws and patterns that are irrefutable.

I spent two and a half hours today in the park by my house, singing through my entire repertoire, steeling myself for my next adventure: to go out and sing and play guitar in the streets. Juggling has been useful in helping me to mentally prepare for that sort of experience, of putting myself out there in that way. Last night was great too, as I ended up at El Rancho Grande, a cafe in Hampden, with local musician Caleb Stine and a bunch of other new awesome people I met for the first time. We all sat around singing songs alone and together and listening to and playing along with one another. I learned a tremendous amount from it in a short time, and said something to Caleb before I left about how I’ve realized, you can only go so far on your own. After that, you need other people, to be exposed to them, to be a part of healthy vitally functioning to community to go any farther.

My tarot reading this morning was reminiscent of the one yesterday, with a recurring card even:

The three of cards came up last time, with a meaning along the lines of something like loneliness, heartbreak, betrayal, being pierced through the heart not once, but three times. The two of wands apparently stands for something like power and boldness, and depicts a man looking out over the battlements of a castle, the world in his hands. Three of cups depicts three women joining their arms together in celebration, communion, a union of emotion, of exuberance, of friendship. It parallels the Three of Pentacles which I got yesterday, depicting teamwork and hardwork. My reading of the three cards together then, along with the set from yesterday would be something like: the welling up of personal power leads to misery if used for selfish ends, but leads to joy and community if shared willingly and openly with others.