Man, let me tell you, life throws you curveballs when you least expect it. My love life? It hit a rough patch a while back, felt like a train wreck, honestly. I’m into tarot, just as a way to kinda peek at things, you know? Not like, fortune-telling, but more like a mirror. Anyway, I pulled a card one evening, feeling all sorts of down, and there it was: the Five of Pentacles. And yeah, it was face up, glaring at me.
I remember looking at that card, those two raggedy folks shuffling through the snow, past a bright church with warm light spilling out, and just feeling it in my gut. That was me. That was exactly how I felt about my relationship at the time. Like we were out in the cold, left behind, and the warmth, the comfort, the help felt like it was right there, but we just couldn’t see it, or maybe we were too proud to ask. The hardship was real, the kind that makes your stomach churn and sleep elusive. We were bickering constantly, feeling disconnected, and honestly, just plain miserable.
Hitting Rock Bottom, Or So It Felt
I mean, the first thing I did after seeing that card? I got mad. Mad at the card, mad at the situation, mad at myself. It felt like the universe was just confirming how awful things were, rubbing it in my face. But then, after a good long sulk, a little voice inside me just went, “Okay, so what are you gonna do about it, tough guy?”
That card, usually it points to feeling abandoned, illness, financial woes, but in love? It screams feeling excluded, unsupported, or just plain lost together. And that was us. So, my “practice,” if you wanna call it that, started right there. I decided I wasn’t just gonna sit and wallow. I was gonna try and understand what that damn church meant, what that light was, and why those two in the snow weren’t walking towards it.
- First up, I started talking. Not yelling, not blaming, just talking. I opened up to my partner about how I was feeling – not what they were doing wrong, but what was going on inside me. That feeling of being out in the cold, unappreciated, lonely, even when we were in the same room. It was hard, really hard. It felt like admitting weakness.
- Then, I actually listened. Took me a while to get there, but I made an effort. My partner had their own version of “cold and snow” they were trudging through. Their burdens, their worries. When you’re stuck in your own head, feeling sorry for yourself, you often miss what the other person is going through. That Five of Pentacles, it shows two people. They’re together in their misery, but not really connecting.
- We started looking for our “shelter.” What did that mean for us? It meant reconnecting with the reasons we fell in love in the first place. We dug out old photos, talked about funny memories. We went on really simple dates again, just the two of us, no distractions. It sounds cheesy, but it was like remembering we actually liked each other.
- I pushed myself to accept help. This was a big one for me. The card usually shows an opportunity for help being missed. For us, it wasn’t a stranger, but each other. It was reaching out a hand, even when mine felt frozen. It was about offering support without being asked, and accepting it when offered. Like, “Hey, I see you’re struggling, can I take care of dinner tonight?” or “I had a rough day, can we just cuddle?” Simple stuff, but when you’re in that five of pentacles gloom, even simple stuff feels huge.
The Long Walk Out of the Snow
It wasn’t an overnight fix, no way. It was a slow, painful trudge, just like those figures in the snow. We had good days, where we felt a spark, and then days where we slid right back into that familiar chill. But each time, I’d remember that card, remember the warmth right there if we just turned our heads. It kept pushing me to look for the solutions, for the places we could find warmth together. The realization wasn’t a sudden flash; it was more like slowly thawing out, bit by bit. We started small, with acts of service, little notes, actual conversations not just about logistics, but about how our day felt. I even started doing little things for myself too, to fill my own cup first, which made it easier to be there for them. It sounds selfish, but you can’t pour from an empty cup, right?
Eventually, things shifted. Not dramatically, but profoundly. We started prioritizing each other again, really seeing the effort we were both making. That feeling of being “out in the cold” began to lift. We rebuilt trust, we rebuilt connection. It wasn’t perfect, no relationship ever is, but we learned how to be each other’s shelter, how to acknowledge the cold, but also how to walk towards the light together. That damn Five of Pentacles didn’t just show me the problem; it showed me the potential for a way out, if I was just willing to open my eyes and take the first painful, stumbling step.
