I’m also embarrassed to admit that I wasn’t sure at first how this shadow card pertained to me. (Guess that confirms it’s a shadow, eh? 🙃) I didn’t feel like I was a person particularly animated by greed. And if I really dig deep, I can remember that I had pulled this same card maybe a year earlier but, at that time, had just fully discounted it and decided to pull one more card instead of really sitting with what I’d been dealt because I didn’t “get it.” (As I write this now, it’s like: I am a human who exists in the developed world in the 21st century… of course I am animated, to some degree, by greed! But already knowing the thing isn’t a very interesting essay, so back to what I was saying…) So this time when I pulled the Greed card, I stayed with the discomfort and took the guidance onboard as I headed into this ceremony. But, on the way there, I apparently fell right back into my usual "trance of more" and what did I do when I got there? I told the person leading the ceremony that I thought I could handle “more” medicine this time. 🤦♀️ This idea of being able to “handle more” is a fertile concept, methinks. Particularly because it allows us to ennoble the hunger for more by making it seem like a difficult challenge — or an occasion that one could rise to — rather than a needful craving that should, perhaps, be examined in more detail. One of my cravings that I’m currently sitting with is my constant desire for more depth. Apparently, I have an innate bias towards the idea that going deeper is better than keeping things light. That if I can “handle” going deeper, that I’ll find more healing, more clarity, more… something… that way. But is that true? Is more depth always better? Not necessarily. Sometimes you just need to take a load off, sometimes you need to crack a joke, sometimes you need to give the situation room to breathe, sometimes you need a light touch. (Who doesn’t like a light touch?) This investigation of greed also has me taking a deeper (⬅️ help!) look at my craving for doing. Culturally, we experience such a strong bias in favor of doing — and of always doing more. Busy is good, right? But what if we contemplated our hunger for doing as its own form of greed? Is doing better than resting? Is doing better than being still? Is doing better than pausing to reflect? Does the hunger for more take us away from the very places where we might find grace? The grace of stillness. The grace of lightness. The grace of undoing. We think we are gaining something when we reach out to get “more.” But the better question might be: What are we missing out on by always wanting more? And what are we depriving ourselves — or someone else — of in the process? Because “wanting more” necessarily moves you away from whatever is happening right now, whatever is happening right here. And we can only savor in the present moment. We can only savor when we are here. — But seriously: Let’s go into that more deeply 🤡 for a moment. Tune into some of your best memories — of joy, of delight, of wonder, of love, of savoring. Were you not fully present in those moments? Were you not, in some sense, carefree? As in free from care? Having — if only briefly — released your usual worries and preoccupations? Trying to savor the future is a fool’s errand. And, believe me, I have been that fool. But as enchanting as our fantasies of what we’re gonna do, or who we’re gonna meet, or how we’re gonna change, can be, they can’t be savored, they can’t be relished, until we get there. Trying to savor anything beyond the present moment is nothing more than dust in the mouth. When we give into the impulse of more, more, more, we deprive ourselves of savoring what is available to us right here, right now. – p.s. After writing this essay, I returned to the Wisdom of the Shadow deck and looked at the ritual for the Greed card again. These were the questions for contemplation:
LINK ABOUT IT Comedian Samantha Irby on: How to survive this absurd life. A wild preview of the future? She fell in love with ChatGPT. Like, actual love. With sex. Poet Natalie Diaz reads from Dreams to Postpone the End of the World: "Our collective dream of the world will have to be different." On the power of holding teeny, tiny babies: When your only job is to cuddle. Helpful recommendations on: How to alter your news diet to stay informed and sane. My 2025 anthem: Doechii wrote the anti-anxiety song we need (in 2019). And now it's on Spotify. I like this concept: On “aftervibes.” Link ideas from: Ancestors to Elements, Kottke, and Jennifer Brown.
Website: jkg.co Copyright © 2025 Hurry Slowly LLC, All rights reserved. Mailing Address: Want to change how you receive these emails?
| |
Every few weeks, I share provocative ideas about culture, consciousness, and creativity, alongside beautiful artwork, in my newsletter. I also host the Hurry Slowly podcast, teach online courses, and practice energy work. Learn more at: www.jkg.co
Artwork by Yukai Du. Hi Friends- My long season of “undoing” continues, but I am looking forward to returning in radiant new form with the podcast and a big new project in the Spring. More on that soon… In honor of Valentine’s day, I wrote you an essay about love, imagination, and joy. Sending warmth,Jocelyn Artwork by Yukai Du. Let's Make Love Cool Again—Wherein I talk about why love needs a rebrand, how imagining bad futures creates bad futures, inspiring words from AOC, and the true source...
Hi Friends- There is a lot going on. In every direction direction I look — at what is unfolding on a socio-political level and the fear and uncertainty that is being deliberately incited at what is unfolding within the lives of those close to me & the very real daily struggles that they are working with at what is unfolding within my own psyche and my own heart — there is a lot going on. And for better or worse, I think that’s going to be the mood of 2025 — a lot of alot-ness. So I was...
Wise Trees series: Mesquite. Hi Friends- As with so many of us, my thoughts and prayers have been with the inhabitants of Los Angeles these past few weeks. As I watch the heartbreaking destruction that continues to unfold, I’ve been thinking about a podcast conversation between Pat McCabe and Francis Weller (that I shared in the last issue), where he talks about the importance of “keeping current with our grief” as a vital practice. In my understanding, keeping current with our grief is both...