From the Peanuts Tarot

I’m at a bit of a loss as I begin, wondering how to relate the reversed Tower to the past week.

Work has been truly fantastic – my stint at Parliament went even better than I could have hoped.

Three months to impress the Minister and his Chief of Staff? Three days will do!

And three days away from the poisonous air of the office were welcome too. No sign of the Tower reversed there – unless he can stand for change and illumination without pain, which I frankly don’t believe.

But while I enjoyed one of the best working weeks of my life – truly – there was frustration, tears, hurt, longing and loneliness at home. I don’t want to dwell on that at the expense of my pleasure in my Parliamentary debut, but obviously for the sake of my learning I must.

Sydney Rose is a very special essence. It helps us to recognise that we are all One, a profound insight that is easy enough to appreciate intellectually but almost impossible to realise as a direct, factual experience.

Its flipside, however, is something we are all familiar with and certainly is an accurate description of my darker feelings of the week: Loneliness, melancholy, isolation – yip, that about sums it up.

There was only one person in the frame to share my glory and that was my cousin Janis.

She emailed me on Day Two with apologies for having to cancel her visit this weekend. Her life is currently more chaotic than usual. Her daughter Louise, however, will be over as planned.

I am so sorry for Janis’ continuing struggles and I know it’s not at all intentional, but I felt dumped.

And that made me nasty. Stew long enough and I can come up with this:

She has no time for me, yet is perfectly happy to send Louise over weekend after weekend, with no contact with me at all. I feel like a child minder.

My payment is to lose Kate for the other weekends, when she goes to say with Louise, so the effect is that every weekend I spend alone.

And the ones when Louise is here feel the loneliest of all.

So here I was this weekend, missing my graduation (if you recall, on the same grounds of having no one to share it with, boohoo), with no one to tell my triumph to, and who was the first person to call, to hear my news?

The ex-husband, who made snide remarks to boot about it not being a real Parliament because it’s not British, reminding me again of why the world feels a special fondness for his nation.

But back to me: Here I am, royally double-dumped.

I am not ready for the lesson of the Sydney Rose. The idea of being One with that bastard makes me shudder, probably because I was for so long.

All of the above poison-spitting aside, I am lonely.

That’s what it comes to. I am achingly lonely. The loneliness of the shy, single person.

I need to learn how to impose on people, but have no idea where to begin.

The reversed Tower has presided over no insights at all on the matter.

I stand alone with the only thing I have ever known: That to expect anyone else to stand by me for any great length of time is a fool’s wish.

They all go in the end and I alone remain.

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