Nine of Fire - Exhaustion
This is the portrait of one whose whole life energy has been depleted in his efforts to keep fueling the enormous and ridiculous machine of self-importance and productivity. He has been so busy “keeping it all together” and “making sure everything runs smoothly”, that he has forgotten to really rest. No doubt he can’t allow himself to be playful. To abandon his duty for a trip to the beach could mean the whole structure might come tumbling down. The message of this card is not just about being a workaholic, though. It is about all the ways in which we set up safe but unnatural routines for ourselves and, by doing so, keep the chaotic and spontaneous away from our doors. Life isn’t a business to be managed, it’s a mystery to be lived. It’s time to tear up the time-card, break out of the factory, and take a little trip into the uncharted. Your work can flow more smoothly from a relaxed state of mind.
A man who lives through conscience becomes hard. A man who lives through consciousness remains soft. Why?–because a man who has some ideas about how to live, naturally becomes hard. He has continuously to carry his character around himself. That character is like an armor; his protection, his security; his whole life is invested in that character. And he always reacts to situations through the character, not directly. If you ask him a question, his answer is ready-made. That is the sign of a hard person– he is dull, stupid, mechanical. He may be a good computer, but he is not a man. You do something and he reacts in a well- established way. His reaction is predictable; he is a robot. The real man acts spontaneously. If you ask him a question, your question gets a response, not a reaction. He opens his heart to your question, exposes himself to your question, responds to it….
Osho Take it Easy, Volume 1 Chapter 13
A coat of quotes and passing poetry
"And as the seed waits eagerly watching for its flower and fruit.
Anxious its little soul looks out into the clear expanse
To see if hungry winds are abroad with their invisible array ;
So Man looks out in tree, and herb, and fish, and bird, and beast.
Collecting up the scattered portions of his immortal body.
Into the elemental forms of everything that grows.
He tries the sullen North wind, riding on its angry furrows,
The sultry South when the sun rises, and the angry East,
When the sun sets, and the clods harden, and the cattle stand,
Drooping, and the birds hide in their silent nests.
He stores his thoughts.
As in store-houses in his memory. He regulates the forms.
Of all beneath and all above, and in the gentle West Reposes where the sun's heat dwells.
He rises to the sun,
And to the planets of the night, and to the stars that gild.
The zodiacs, and the stars that sullen stand to North and South,
He touches the remotest pole, and in the centre weeps That Man should labour and sorrow, and learn and forget, and return.
To the dark valley whence he came, and begin his
Artwork and Poetry | William Blake