The Battle with Grief
Dealing with loss, the Five of Swords and the planet Mars in Vedic Astrology
The past weeks, I swelled with pride looking back from where I was two years ago. I ride the wave of smugness of “I did this! Woohoo!” that then ebbs into the gratefulness for everyone and everything, to, finally, peace is now my mental state.
But this morning, I woke up in shambles.
The bright summer morning skies dulled by storm clouds. The thunder clapped and cracked through the quiet of Sunday morning. The deluge of rain stomped on the roof as tears streamed from behind my sleep mask. My husband shook me, wiped the tears from my cheeks and stroked my arms, “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” More tears as I bawled “Obi…nightmare…die again.” I relieved the nightmare of our beloved dog, passing away in my arms, in my dream.
This is grief. You win on some days and, of course, you lose it too on others.
This made me think about the five of swords - the midway through the painful suit of swords that deals with truth and intellect that slices clean through the fog of emotions. In the traditional Rider Waite-Smith card, a red headed victor in the foreground. He looms large with a smug look on his face. Two swords in one hand, resting against his shoulder, while the third one, he leans on like a cane. Two more swords lay on the ground, abandoned by his rivals, in defeat. One simply walking away from the battle field, the other in tears. The lake behind them flat and clam. But jagged gray clouds dot the clear blue skies. A reminder that there was turmoil that ensued moments before.
When this card is pulled in a reading, a battle was won and lost. On one end, there is the clear winner, who survived unscathed and utterly pleased with himself. On the other side of the spectrum, there are losers. Some will just walk away from the loss, others will be devastated. Sometimes, the champion and the vanquished can all be the same person.
There were times I pulled this card for myself. My chest puffed up in triumph from the skirmish, and spat on the ground, that I imagined were the faces of the defeated. The remnants of war, the disturbing and ugly wreckage, emerged more clearly after the dust of victory settled. My heart wrestled on what I’d done and whether or not I could’ve done it another way. Could I have approached the conflict like a calm and collected, strategic person who knows when to take a step back before attacking?
In Vedic astrology, Mars or Mangala or Kuja is the embodiment of this - the general.
Born out of a bead of perspiration, from the intense effort of Shiva, God of destruction, in his meditation, Mars, the red planet, is the fire starter, ruler of Aries, the first in the natural order of the zodiacs. He is the instigator, the primal urge one has to do, to fight. Thus, determination and courage, energy and action. He is the warrior, defender and protector of the self, one’s home and resources. He is also anger, rage and violence.
Each person has Mars in their birth charts, baked into one’s very being. After all, one needs the courage, energy and action to go on each day in this lifetime.
I allowed myself to cry some more, called for Curly to stay beside me. But all he could muster was to perch his snout on the mattress, keeping his distance, watching me as I mourned over the reliving of the death of his older brother in my dream. It was he was saying, it was OK for me to feel this way. That he respected that he was not Obi and never would be. I wiped my tears off, stood up and set up for meditation. Still tears streamed down my face as I sat down to release last night’s horror show. This was life without Obi, remnants of a battle with life and death, a loss.
After twenty minutes of deep meditation, I gathered Curly into my arms and cried again. This dog wasn’t like Obi. He craved the warmth of the human touch. He enjoyed being hugged, placing his snout on the crease of your neck. It wasn’t too close for his comfort. In fact, it was his comfort.
I look back again in the early days and weeks of the battlefield of death of a loved one. It didn’t matter that Obi was a dog. He was loved beyond measure. It was nonetheless utter devastation from grief. After months into this (It’s barely been a year even), I’ve learned how to manage it better by giving myself space to feel through the rollercoaster. It’s OK to feel sad and cry. It’s normal to feel all those after such a loss. I look back, but I also see what and who is in front of me - Curly, who was clearly sent by Obi, a source of comfort and even more love that I could ever imagined I’d get. Now that is indeed a triumph.
What I’m reading:
If you’re interested to know what Vedic astrology books are on my nightstand right now, here are the books on rotation:
Navagraha Purana: Tales of the Nine Planets by V.S. Rao and edited by Preetha Rajah Kannan.
Brahasutras: Insights from a Lifetime of Vedic Astrology by James Braha
What I’m listening to:
I’m in my gusting era! After guesting on Jenn dela Vega’s Attack the Pantry livestream, I am chatting with another community builder, Xinyi of Don’t Be Strangers, on her podcast. I started following the IG account last year as I still am interested in widening my friendship circle here in Texas. We met in person, as I promised her a tarot reading. Then she invited me to guest on the podcast. So this July 12, subscribe to the Don’t Be Strangers on your favorite podcast platform (Mine is Spotify!) and tune in to our conversation of my journey from the Philippines to Dubai to the United States.
If you’d like to read more about tarot cards and their meanings, head on over to what I’ve written below:
Major Arcana
Minor Arcana