I woke up quite groggy this morning and was having some sort of work-related dream, the details of which escape me. Last night I was in a mood of jittery unquiet, prompted by nothing in particular. I was in a fret because my new filling is uncomfortable and has ridgy bits on it, and because I have venetian blinds that get very grubby and are a pain to clean. I took one of them down and washed in the bathtub - what a palaver - and it still looks like a good place to grow potatoes. But what kind of stupid reasons are those to get ansty and fretty and depressed? I started to think about how lucky I am to lead a life wherein a ridgy filling and grubby venetian blinds could be a cause of distress. Then my guilt about that compounded my fretting. It was a stupidly hormonal evening.
But this morning I've drawn the 10 of Shields (or Pentacles), which deck creator Anna-Marie Ferguson associates with Camelot. I suppose you can't get a more idealized version of hearth and home than Camelot. It was certainly perfection, created in one night by Merlin, its great hall home to the famous Round Table, and the scene of many feasts and revels in the long, dark winter nights. To enter the beautiful hall with its colourful tapestries, blazing fires, roasting meats, minstrels, dogs, animals of many descriptions, lovely women, brave knights, and servants scurrying around -- it would have made the dangers of the cold and darkness seem very far off indeed. So I suppose the card is reminding me to look upon my secure reality rather than fear that which I am actually sheltered from. I hate the blinds - I have a bit of cash to buy new window treatments. I decide I can't live with the texture of this new filling - I can always go to a different dentist and get his opinion on it. I can fix these little troubles. The 10 of Shields helps put things in perspective.