This Girl Can't Take the Heat
The Pensive Mood of the Four of Cups and the Baggage of "Manghuhulas"
I love sunshine, but I abhor summer.
Each morning, I flip the blinds to allow the sunlight to flood our apartment. It’s my visual cue that a new day’s dawned and YAY! I feel so blessed that in Texas, the fall and winter seasons still mean a lot of sunshine. Walks are about basking in it. My head tilted up to the sky, eyes closed in the sweet time as the warmth of the sun’s rays hit my face. Spending time outdoors is not a chore, but an ultimate pleasure.
But lately, the blinds don’t completely flip open, a restraint in letting the light in as the apartment can turn into an oven quickly. What is it about Texas building construction that creates this environment? I can’t renovate the building, so I do my best to work with what we’ve got. Yes, even despite the privilege of having air conditioning with electric fans simultaneously whirring all around, it still gets hot.
In the Philippines, I enjoyed the summer. It is the sweetest time for fruits like the mango, siniguelas, melon and watermelon, star apple, atis, santol among many others. It is when neighbors max their freezers by filling plastic bags with juice to be frozen and sold as “ice candy.” Or “ice tubig” would even suffice. The hardy narra trees’ blooms explode in a golden shower that carpets the grey concrete roads (I may have mentioned this repeatedly, simply because it is a beloved sight to behold. #corememory) I made sure I pack my bikini, hit the beach, around a two hour drive away, and lay down on the sand to bathe in the sunshine until my skin toasts to a reddish brown like the lechon that’s roasted and turned over hot coals, while sipping an icy fruit shake to boot.
I don’t abhor the summer. But maybe just the Texas summers.
This made me think about the Four of Cups. The suit of cups, of the element of water, signifying emotions and the relationships of our lives. A person sits cross legged under a tree, back leaning on its trunk, atop a verdant hill. Three cups in the foreground and a cloud appears beside him with a hand outstretched offering another cup. The person’s arms crossed as well. His face unsure, distrustful of the offer right in front of him.
If anyone’s heard or learned about body language, crossed arms mean doubt, apprehension, a snub, or, at times, a downright refusal.
When this card is pulled in a reading, one is unsure of the options put in front of him. It’s not there are none. There are a number of it. But one just not know…yet. It is a call to sit down under the tree, introspect, and consider the opportunities in front of you.
There are opportunities before me in this restart of my daily grind and, eventually, career. It’s been two years since I decided to leave due to health reasons. The postings of jobs from my corporate past on Linkedin and from other recruitment sites sent to my inbox everyday. And yet, I feel nothing. I click delete as instinct. I’ve no drive to enroll in courses related to my advertising past. Nor even level up to add another layer of higher education - a certification, a MBA or another MA on top of my Master’s degree, as the standard issue career path of my peers, those who want to advance in the corporate world.
I realized do not have any ounce of that specific desire in my body.
An immense privilege to be supported by my husband and pandemic savings, to not be consumed by everyday bills; everyday I wake up, flip the window blinds, bask in the light and pull a card. I enrolled in writing classes, coaching programs, pitched, was offered and wrote stories for various digital publications like Eater and Thrillist, and this newsletter to get me out of this limbo. Have I not moved forward at all? Do I not like working to earn the necessary money?
I have a to-do list in my brain as I wake up everyday. I do not desire to lounge my way through life. I want to wake up everyday and move towards a goal and a purpose - writing, pulling tarot cards and reading astrology?
My husband often throws the word “manghuhula” at me. I cringe and recoil at the thought. I was like the person in the Four of Cups, unsure of whether I want run with this opportunity before me and slap on this label on me.
I grew up in a time when fortune tellers, psychics across different disciplines whether Chinese astrology and feng shui, which really is ingrained into the Filipino culture, or western astrology, were packaged and presented in a distinct look. In the 80’s and 90’s, they graced the TV screens, newspapers and magazines in both new years of the Gregorian and the Chinese Lunar calendar. All bedecked in shiny clothes, layers of crystals, jewels and gold, hair either hard as hats from gel or towering from teasing and inordinate amounts of hair spray, faces caked with make up and/or stretched to the limits plastic surgery can buy, they projected both mystique and opulence. That they were unveiling the silver bullet solutions to people’s problems, also peacocked the prosperity that awaits all who followed their advice.
I knew I wasn’t anything like that. Nor did I want to be.
Photo by Hulki Okan Tabak on Unsplash
The Tagalog word “manghuhula,” which means fortune teller or soothsayer, comes from the root word “hula” or guess. This carries the inescapable baggage of uncertainty that life brings. Can one truly see the future with such certainty? People brushed off “manghuhulas” for their purported crystal ball gibberish. A lot of people thought they were a joke. That fortune telling is only guesswork. That there is no factual basis for these forecasts. That there is no science to it. Yet every year, they were on television, telling people what to expect in the year to come; every day the newspaper reserved a space dedicated to horoscopes. And people gobbled it all up. With this, I understand the immense responsibility that comes with this craft and magic.
I thought that what I was doing day in and day out was simply a sleight of hand, a trick like pulling a bunny out of a hat or even ass, if one is to be harsh. We, as humans, can only try to guess what will happen next. But here I was putting so much time and energy into pulling, reading cards and studying Vedic astrology, reading birth charts and transits of myself and others, walking down the path towards manghuhula-hood.
But as I’ve learned in the past months, Vedic astrology is anything but simply guesswork. Yes, it is about infinite probabilities and possibilities, but it is a scholarly analysis of the mathematics, specifically, geometry, and physics of planets in relation to the Earth and all the beings living on it. People have been studying the skies, the stars for thousands of years, helping guide them, provide literal direction as they navigated seas and oceans. People have written books on the subject, penning down the manifestations of the combinations of planetary placements.
Like doctors, they approached birth charts as medical history. That people born with these specific planets in their charts, expressed these symptoms. That with these symptoms, what guidance or prescription can be given to provide relief or a path forward. It is a study of cycles and patterns, not just hunches. And besides, like doctors whose diagnosis can both hit and miss, so do astrologers. Astrology is never the absolute answer nor silver bullet to end all one’s challenges. One does their best based on what they’ve learned, seen and experienced. But not always absolutely know and state as absolute fact with 120% certainty every single time.
There will be times when forecasts, diagnosis, and predictions go wayside, or even fall into the depths of impenetrable mystery. But that is life, nothing handed to us is ever definite all the time.
While there are “manghuhulas” who are indeed gifted psychics, who have the other worldly ability to see beyond, I know with certainty - for now - that I am not one. Should I have any gifts, it is one of sifting through information, seeing these patterns and gleaming an insight and solutions from it, an ability that I’ve applied and been recognized for in my over a decade of work in the corporate world.
Last night, the heat and humidity was broken with a deluge of lightning, thunder and rain. Finally! A reprieve from the clumps of hair sticking to the nape of my neck, from the stains on the back and sleeves of my shirt and the overall weight of mugginess that bore down on our bodies. The ten degree drop, from 100F/38C to 90F/32C, felt like the crisp autumn day, yet we knew the worst is still to come.
It is a reality of the evolving Texas climate that I needed to simply accept and learn to live with. Spend time outdoors if possible when temperatures are manageable, earlier in the mornings and later at night, or under the shade. Turn on the fans to help circulate the cooler air from the AC. Wear only shorts, skirts, and dresses. Drink lots of water. Stock up on sparkling water (Mineragua is THE BEST!) in the fridge for that extra oomph to welcome me back indoors. And keep the blinds damn shut, especially during peak heat hours (which I learned is from 3-5PM here).
It is also sobering to know that I will need to learn how to accept the designation “manghuhula,” whether I like it or not. That I don’t need to don the same outfits, decorate myself with the same accessories, blow dry and style my hair to reach up towards the heavens, slather on make up, nor even get plastic surgery one day. That maybe the study of the science, application of the logic, the clarity of explanation, and the shining the light of real world insights from it will be more than enough.
What I’m reading:
I must confess that all I’ve been reading are Vedic astrology books.
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