It is Pentecost, one of the more vague Christian Holidays; no one knows what to do with it really, how to get in touch with all this uncontrolled fire coming down on heads. It is all inspiration, so in fact it is lovely, but still, in one of another way, it does not touch many peoples’ hearts.
I have not finished my “Picture the Pain Spread”, I will, but since it is this holiday, I have pulled a card with Pentecost as a theme. The card shows my resistance against this feast. The card that I have drawn is Seven of Pentacles from the Golden Tarot of the Tsar.
The story of Pentecost starts with the disciples gathered for Sukkot. They sit in a room and suddenly they hear wind blowing. They saw a fire that divided itself in parts. Each part came down on one of them. They were inspired by the fire of the Holy Ghost. They all began to speak in different languages. Many people in the city were foreigners. The disciples went outside, and began to talk to the foreign people in their own language.
Writing it down I do find it a lovely story, all this reaching out and connecting with foreigners, people whose customs you are not used to. That is not the source of my resistance. That is the storm that came suddenly, and the fire that came down, which changed these people for good. It is the experience of something shocking that happens; something from which you cannot hide or run away from, something that is uncontrollable, by which everything changes and by which nothing will ever be the same. That is what happened to Elias as well, who is pictured on the card that I have pulled. He was ploughing, going on about his own business and is suddenly called away by Elijah, because he threw his coat towards him. That made him the servant of Elijah. He could not turn back from that. Even if Elias would not have followed Elijah, his life would have been changed, just because he had been called.
Now on a deeper level. My resistance to this story and to Pentecost is that it illustrates that I cannot choose my own destiny. That things happen in life, through illness, by economic circumstances, whatever, which have such an impact, that I cannot choose my destiny. I can adapt to them. I can be flexible or use my coping strategies, but in the end, I have not so much to say about my life.