Love Makes the World Go `Round

A long time ago I asked my mother why so many songs were about love. She smiled as she answered, "Because love makes the world go 'round." At the time I didn't get the irony that she was answering my question with song lyrics, probably Perry Como's given her musical tastes. But she probably didn't realize she was referencing medieval theology either, which held that the power of love literally set the universe in motion. I wasn't fully satisfied with her answer, actually, and I'm still not. I vascillate in my airy Libran way between being a full on sucker for love and examining it under a microscope with proper scientific objectivity. It's a curious subject, love, and it is no less curious in tarot when it appears as the Major Arcana card: The Lovers. This card has no problem showing up when a romantic relationship is in question, but doesn't it make you scratch your head a little when it shows up when you're doing a reading about something completely non-romantic? You stare at the image of the passionate couple and think...wtf? The fallback meaning is of "choice" and of following one's heart to make that choice, so at least there is that. This painting, A Huguenot on St Bartolomew's Day by Sir John Everett Millais, would make a perfect Lovers card. Not only because the lovers are so perfectly evident, but because of the story behind the image. Over a period of several days in August 1572, French Roman Catholics slaughtered thousands of Protestants in Paris. In this scene, a young Catholic girl is trying to persuade her Huguenot lover to save himself by binding around his arm the white cloth that is to be the Catholic's means of identification. He pulls at the cloth and resists, preferring to put his life at risk rather than deny his faith. Indeed, the choice to refuse the armband is one of deep commitment. It seems foolish yet it is the choice of his innermost self and soul that he must abide. And what a monumental and difficult choice it is. He could stay alive and in his lovers arms but a betrayer of his faith by one choice and by another his conscience clear he rests in peace. This moment of inner choice is what the Lovers card is about. Love has been a constant theme in art for as long as people have been scratching images onto surfaces. However, the theme of The Lovers is not simply as straightforward as Gustav Klimt's The Kiss. As lovely and as passionate as this painting is, it only shows one aspect of The Lovers card, the most obvious one. Cocoon-like, the lovers embrace and complete one another like finding one's missing piece. The earth is green and bountiful, their clothing literally glows, emanating their emotional union. The expression of sheer bliss on the woman's face needs no commentary, it speaks in a language we know if we have known love or have yearned for it to be just this perfect. Ok, snap out of it! Seriously, love's great and all and sometimes it does feel just like that, but the Lovers has a lot more to say than that. Originally, it probably didn't have much more to represent than our well known concept of romantic love. Two lovers and a cupid graced the earliest known decks and it was titled "Love" not "The Lovers." The Tarot de Marseilles changed that scene with the interjection of a third party and titled the card The Lovers. Now, instead of mere symbolic representation of the concept of love, there was a storyline. What exactly is going on in that snapshot? The one woman appears older, less seductive than the younger woman, is she a romantic choice for the young man or his mother advising him? In other ancient decks such as Gumppenberg Neoclassical deck (reprinted by Lo Scarabeo as "Ancient Tarots of Lombardy"),the concept of choice is clearly illuminated with a young woman choosing between two male suitors, a king and a soldier. Cupid is pointing towards the soldier and her gaze is clearly on him as well, and the implication to me seems to be to follow one's heart, no matter what the "wiser" choice may seem. Comparing the scenes on the older tarot decks Lovers cards is fun as you get to make up your own stories about the three figures and what they are doing and saying. Waite's rendition brings back the couple and cupid, at least in essence, with Adam and Eve and the angel between them, but also includes the concept of choice, as the the Biblical story of Adam and Eve, no matter which version you read, has as its pivotal theme free will and a very crucial choice made. The central idea is there as well of a perfect mate, someone who was made just for you, fitting in every way. Yet, in the early Marseille decks, the notion of choosing virtue over vice, even though cupid is pointing at vice, alludes to the theme of temptation which the whole Adam and Eve concept does as well. As cliche as you may think Waite's card may seem, it actually combines the various Love and Lovers themes and messages throughout the history of Tarot quite excellently. So which is it? True love? The kind poets only dream about? Or decision and choice? Common sense will prevail if you're asking tarot a question having nothing to do with relationships and The Lovers appears. Of course it could possibly be saying that in the course of working on your Masters thesis you will meet your soulmate in the library or coffee shop just like in the movies, but if nothing else in the cards indicates such, you really must lean towards the concept of choosing a heartfelt and heart-directed path over another "more sensible" option. When this card appears it pretty much screams, "Follow your heart!" no matter how crazy it may seem. It can indicate a "perfect match" in occupation or it can tell you that you've found the perfect home, though it may not look like much on the outside. If you choose against the Lovers, you may be fine, sure, but you may also feel, later on, as if you missed out or something is missing and you can't put your finger on it. This, whatever it is, completes you in some very important way. Love is crazy and not wise and yet it is what it is and being who you are, choose for love. Life is just too short not to.

Wish I May, Wish I Might...

The Star is one of those cards in tarot that feels good when we see it, but we're not always sure why. I see it as a light at the end of the tunnel, a signpost that tells me I'm heading in the right direction, no matter how lost I may feel at the time. The disappointing thing, and probably the only disappointing thing about the Star is that the thing or event that you're heading towards and hoping for is a ways off. It's not going to happen today nor tomorrow, but sometime in the future. For those of us who adore immediate gratification, this can be almost as frustrating as seeing The Hanged Man show up. The symbolism of the Star is curious. Often there is a naked woman portrayed pouring out two jugs of water, one onto the earth and the other into the water. One immediate sense is that of abundance. But as one friend of mine noted, this woman is pouring herself out to a ridiculous degree: "She's watering the water, for heaven's sake!" my friend said. When we look at what water symbolizes in tarot, the emotions, we can see a dual meaning here. On the one hand, there is emotional healing going on. She's pouring out, releasing her emotions, both for their generative qualities and just for the sake of releasing them. Her nakedness suggests both a vulnerability and a healthy sense of self. Being transparent and not hiding one's feelings is imperative for emotional health and healing. Yet it does leave one vulnerable to further injury, so it takes a good deal of courage to do what this woman is doing. Going back to my friend's observation, women especially tend to overextend themselves emotionally and give rise to the need for the Star's emotional down time. Someone represented by the Star in a reading could signify someone who is an emotional giver, sometimes to their own detriment. The advice then is to take some real time for oneself and attend to one's own emotional waters and dry, parched soul. The Star is an incredibly peaceful card and brings with it a sense of wholeness. It's a relief, a breather, on a long arduous journey. It reminds us to slow down because any amount of stressing out about when you'll get there isn't going to make the trip go any faster. It quiets those voices in your head that sound like children in the back seat chattering, "Are we there yet?" every five minutes. It answers soothingly, "No, but we will get there at just the right time, now relax and enjoy the scenery." It's the kind of card that makes you stop and experience the present moment in all its peaceful beauty and reminds us that the journey IS the destination. The Star makes me wonder where is the There we're all trying to get to in life? Does it even exist? How many There's have we had in our life's journey? When we graduate school, then what? When we marry, then what? When we raise our kids, land that job, travel to Indonesia, then what? The Star says, "Oh please, stop fretting about all that." You're There right now. At least you're somewhere, at some There. You don't like where you are? You don't like this There? The Star says, ok, you'll get to another There. My favorite rendition of The Star is in The Hudes deck. The woman is neck deep in soothing, calming waters and her hair swirls around her. Her eyes are closed and she is immersed in the moment. Traditionally, stars have symbolized a divine source, heavenly guidance, and hope. Stars have figured prominently in religious symbols in most major as well as minor world religions, crests, coats of arms, and national symbols. As humans we've always been fascinated by stars and have divined by them, wished on them, used them for navigation, and attempted to reach them. They remain mysterious and beautiful, unreachable, and indiscernible. The Psalmist in the Bible says that God has counted out the stars and knows each by name. They are a wonder to see, to observe, to simply lie beneath and dream. Polaris, the North Star, is always a constant in the Northern Hemisphere and hence has been used for ages as a guide for seafarers and nomadic folk. It's not only constant, in that it doesn't dip below the horizon, it is always usually the brightest star in the sky. The Phoenician sailors noticed that the North Star Polaris could be used for celestial navigation and soon Ursa Minor gained in recognition from about 600 BC. The box-like body and tail of the smaller bear constellation pointed to the North Star, making those stars a welcome sight on a foggy night out at sea. The constellation Ursa Minor would speak to the sailors and guide them on their voyages. The constellation Ursa Minor resembles a mountaintop that is at the top of the world. That mountain was considered a place of meditation and calm. The sight of it brought with it the relief of knowing you are headed in the right direction. It symbolized the end of fear and indecision. The pole star gave hope to the sailors who wanted to see their native lands again. These ancient beliefs continue today as we gaze at the night sky and wish upon a star, usually and often it is Polaris that receives our wish because it shines brightly and is often the first star seen at dusk. The Star in tarot continues to mean we need to keep hoping, keep folloiwing that star of heavenly guidance, look to the future but keep focused on now. It is numbered 17 in the Major Arcana which reduces to 8 and is connected with Strength...the inner strength to persevere and keep going, no matter what. It heals from the wounds of those tangles with lions and gives us our direction when we've lost or think we've lost our way. That light at the end of the tunnel does seem far away, but the Star assures us it's not an oncoming train. It really is going to be ok.

Like Riding a Bicycle

I finally saw The Celestine Prophecy last night, and despite the buzz surrounding the book and the movie, I can see why its critics roll their eyes. The movie itself is, well, how do I say this nicely? Let's just say it won't win any Academy Awards ever. Gorgeous scenery, though. The acting was, for the most part, pretty stiff, but enough with the armchair movie critic stuff. It seemed to be a kind of propaganda primer for some very basic concepts that actually make sense. Some scenes in particular, using very simplistic imagery and symbolism, held quite profound messages. In a very condensed nutshell, this movie shows how we can tap into our intuitive guidance system and follow those nudges and hunches and thereby live our lives as we are intended. Also, it explains how to shift one's focus from the very mundane material day-to-day world of power and control to seeing all of life with greater vision, seeing all of it as linked with energy. I believe we're all born with this internal guidance system, a kind of intuitive GPS, that we are taught, over time, to ignore. We are then taught to rely only on facts, what we can see with our eyes, touch with our hands, and know from "science" and proper research. We're taught that it is dangerous to do things any differently and people who do things differently are viewed as foolish and unwise, or worse, as woo-woo crackpots. When I was a fundamentalist Christian, I entered the faith through a door that strongly stressed relying on an internal guidance system called the Holy Spirit. Throughout the New Testament there are strong urgings to follow that internal Guide and not to rely on one's own physical senses. But Christianity is rather schizophrenic about this subject. On the one hand, we are told to follow the Spirit, but on the other hand we should "test the spirits" to know whether we are following the Holy Spirit or some other random human or demonic spirit. Some branches of Christianity don't advise any of this at all and instead instruct its followers to just follow what is written in the Bible and don't rely at all on what you feel inside. They believe that we have a human spirit that is corrupt and the Holy Spirit that is pure and because it's often just too difficult to know which spirit is sending messages to you, just rely on what is written to be safe. Then some factor in the influence of the demonic spirits as well, so just forget all that esoteric stuff and follow The Word to bypass confusion. The problem is that The Word urges the following of spiritual urgings and promptings. That's just circular reasoning and it makes one a little crazy when you try to actually live it out. In some Christian circles, the spiritual promptings are embraced and encouraged. The caveat is that the Holy Spirit will never prompt you to do something contrary to the words in the Bible, so if you believe the Spirit is prompting you to smoke crack or something, it's probably not the right spirit giving you that message. (However, the Holy Spirit did instruct a major Old Testament prophet to walk around the streets naked, so....) Still, they do encourage the development of that intuitive guidance system, within a certain framework. Issues tend to arise when the Holy Spirit tells one person to do one thing and another person to do the opposite and then it becomes a battle between whose intuition is correct. This Sunday School lesson is all to say that what I found in the realm of Christian practice regarding this issue is like a microcosm of the rest of the larger world. Some people will embrace and encourage intuitive guidance and others are skeptical and will dismiss it altogether. The protagonist's journey in The Celestine Prophesy was encouraged to be done entirely "by faith and not by sight." There was a line in the movie where, after the guy was told to just take off on a motorcycle into the rainforest willy nilly to find a woman who was captured by rebels, he responded by saying, "But I don't know where I'm going!" The reply was, "None of us do." Think about that. Just take a moment and think about that. Do any of us really know where we are going? Sure, we have plans and goals and may even have a map drawn with the steps laid out to the fulfillment of those goals, but can any of us say what event will happen tomorrow or even five minutes from now? We have expectations that if we do this then that will happen, and it might. Or it might not. There are far too many variables in life that can throw even the finest laid plans into disarray. Ok, so what to do? Well, our guy in the film takes off and really tries to rely on this unseen guide inside himself. He comes to a literal fork in the road and tries to sense which way to go. One path appeared a bit brighter to him, it pulled at him a bit more than the other. So he takes off on that road and promptly gets captured by rebels and thrown into a crappy little jail cell out in the jungle. Oops! As he sits there kicking his own ass, knowing he effed up and made the wrong choice, it turns out he made exactly the right choice because the woman he was searching for was being held in a cell right there, too. Ok, aside from the painfully obvious being whacked over your head with rather poor script writing, this was an important point. I know how it feels to follow that flow of intuition and it feels "right" and it gives me a strong sense of hope and wellbeing when I am in that mode. I tend to think ok, I've got it now, I'm riding the wave of intuitive guidance and all will be well. I will see life just roll out the red carpet for me and things will go smoothly and there will be a pot of gold at the end. And then what happens? Something shitty. Uh oh. So then I think, crap, I did it wrong. I must have made the wrong decision there back at that fork in the road. Damn. How can I get myself out of this mess I've made? I'm then tempted to throw all this intuitive stuff out the back door and just go back to relying only on traditional advice. Following that intuitive guidance doesn't necessarily mean it will all be easy. It doesn't mean bad things won't happen to you. But it also doesn't mean you didn't make the right choice. You have to wait and see what unfolds. Learning to use this intuitive guidance system is a lot like taking an old bicycle out of storage. It's rusty, the tires are flat, and it squeaks and rattles when you roll it out. Tarot is an excellent oil for this old bike. Using tarot encourages the intuitive part of our brains to pay attention and come to the fore. But once you've got the bike all cleaned up and oiled and its tires pumped up, you've got to ride it. That's the real scary but super fun part. Take it for a spin around the block. Follow that intuitive nudge and just go. You don't have to go far at first, but go. Pretty soon you'll be going on cross-country trips on that old bike and the more you ride it, the better your own conditioning will be. You will go places you never thought you'd go in a million years. Some of those places might be scary and uncomfortable, but...this is truly living life, isn't it?

Thank You

Wow. You all are amazing, wonderful and super fantastic. That's really all I can say. You've rendered me speechless and that's quite a feat, let me tell you. I have done enough readings to pay cable and get caught up on some other bills, too. Some of you have referred me to friends and that's so great because I love reading for new folks as well as my "regulars" -- you know who you are. *wink* You've inspired me to really pay attention to what makes my heart sing and put my energies towards that which I love and when I do that, there is tangible reward following. Not to mention, I am feeling much calmer since I last posted in panic. So thank you, thank you, and thank you again. Such great readers we have here! Your insight on my posted reading has truly helped give me perspective on myself, my situation, and much needed assurance that I can get through this and succeed. I don't measure success in dollars and cents, but it sure can feel disheartening when the bills pile up. That accusing voice in one's head screaming, "LOSER!" drowns out all others. Well, I may be pathetic sometimes, but a loser I'm not. Thanks for helping me see that again.

A Cluttered Mind

I've been trying to figure out which tarot card exemplifies the theme of my life at the moment and like potato chips, I can't pick just one. The divorce has left me financially devastated. That would be five of pentacles. I'm losing the battle of the bills. The Wheel of Fortune would fit, though I'd be on the bottom hemisphere at the moment. Then there is the 5 of cups, which is me right now because I can't seem to see past my current situation. I still have hope, though, and the Star shines in the darkness and tells me that things will get better, and that does give me some peace. I work and work and work at a pretty unexciting, repetitive job to pay what bills I can, so that's 8 of pentacles. I'm trying to deal with it all with Strength. Where's that Magician when I need him? I need Rumpelstiltskin, actually, to spin this straw into gold. SIGH Here's the deal: I'm about to lose my internet connection because I can't pay the bill. If you feel inclined to help, check out my tarot reading page and I'd love to do a reading for you. I also take donations, just let me know whether its for a reading or not. I will say that when I do readings on this mess, awfully good cards often show up in the outcome position, so I'm confident that things will work out for the best. It's just that its really hard to see that right now. Then I think tarot is lying to me and then what? Throwing the cards across the room just invites a lovely game of 78 card pick up. Not only that, it's so hard to intuit esoterically when I've got pentacles problems staring me in the face. My car needs a major repair so it can pass emissions and be registered, my cable and phone bills are past due. I just put groceries on the credit card. I try to remember things certainly could be worse, but I don't want to think about that. So this dilemma asks the question: How does one accurately read tarot when the mind is cluttered with all this mundane bullshit? Not easily. When I'm in such a state of mind, inevitably the High Priestess wants to show up and mutely accuse me that I already know the answers to my own questions if I could just calm down and listen to my senses. Oh, go the hell away already! I can't tell her to shut up because she doesn't say much. She simply sits there with her Mona Lisa smile and her book of answers clamped shut tight. Next up is The Fool, and in such a mindset I am apt to look past all his wonderful qualities and only hear tarot shrieking at me, "You FOOL! You should have known better than to take that leap! Now look at you!" For example, here's a reading, a simple three card Situation/Advice/Outcome on this predicament and my initial interpretation: Well, there I am, the beggar. I need money, for sure, and while I'd rather not take any handouts, I'm needy and desperate. Gah. That's not very flattering. It's making me feel pretty humiliated and vulnerable right about now. Then the advice shows, what did I tell you, the Magician! Somehow I am supposed to be able to pull a rabbit out of this hat? It's telling me I have all the tools I need to create my own reality. Or my own illusions, anyway. And isn't it just like tarot to give me a court card for an outcome. Good lord. Exactly. The King of Cups. (Why is that card always showing up in my readings? Who the heck is he???) At this point I'd have rather seen the King of Pentacles who at least might loan me some money, but here I have the King of Cups who is here to rationally deal with my fears and stirred up emotions. But honestly, all I see when I look at this card is a man adrift on the sea which is exactly how I feel. So who wants to take a crack at this reading and approach it with a clearer mind? Mine is entirely too cluttered to deal with it.

The Freedom to Fall

A while back I wrote a post over at The Tarot Channel on associating songs with Tarot images, so when I tell you this song by Alicia Keys is a perfect Fool's song you'll know I'm not disparaging the song, but instead using tarot-speak to give it props. It's called Sure Looks Good To Me and I've been listening to it to remind myself that a Fool's approach to life is actually the wisest. Life is cheap and bittersweet But it tastes good to me Take my turn, crash and burn That's how it's supposed to be So don't rain on my parade Life's too short to waste one day I'm gonna risk it all, the freedom to fall Sure looks good to me Time flies by, it leaves you behind Take it naturally Heaven knows, oh there's so much more More than what we see So don't rain on my parade Life's too short to waste one day I'm gonna risk it all, the freedom to fall Sure looks good to me Deep in my mind I'm secure with getting by Want to see the light before I die Before I lie in an empty space and the darkness comes And I've been telling my soul, me and myself We turn around we're getting old But the lightning crashes, the foolish emotions Of the bruises and the beauty of this moment That we're feeling and I feel like I'm seeing The world inside of me, but I can tell you that I know It's getting easier to breathe There's a cold in the morning, an endless equation of who we've become It's a complex situation So live, love life, give love Live, love life, give love Live, love life, give love 'Cause who are we anyway? So don't rain on my parade Life's too short to waste one day I'm gonna risk it all, the freedom to fall Sure looks good to me Copyright EMI April Music & Lellow Productions Lyrics for: Sure Looks Good To Me From the album: As I Am Songwriters: Augello-Cook, Alicia J, Perry, Linda There are so many associations in these lyrics that bring to mind the meaning of The Fool card, but one phrase that crystallizes the Fool is "the freedom to fall." The Fool in many tarot decks is often portrayed as standing on the edge of a precipice, and we're not sure whether the next step means death or simply a change in direction. We can't see what is below so we fear for his safety and, thinking he's foolishly risking it all, want to pull him back from the edge "for his own good." A Fool lives inside of me alongside a very stressed-out worrywart who is constantly trying to get my Fool back from the edge. But falling, even if it means crashing and burning, is necessary to learning and growth. A small child learning to walk takes many spills. A parent may want to prevent each and every fall, fearing for the child's safety, and may hover nearby to scoop her up every time she teeters and loses her balance. However, if that parent never allowed her to fall it would handicap her and prevent her from learning how to walk at all. Imagine if a parent kept a child bundled in a papoose or hamstrung her in some way that prevented the prospect of falling, her sense of balance would not be developed, her leg muscles would atrophy, and she would lose the opportunity to develop naturally. We need to give ourselves the freedom to fall, to risk it all, to crash and burn. Obviously the problem with falling is that unpleasant crash at the bottom. So, if our toddler is naturally going to fall, we hope she falls on the carpeted floor rather than the concrete driveway. But no doubt she will fall on the concrete driveway inevitably and we hope the only repercussion is a skinned knee. As adults, we all need the freedom to fall, the freedom to explore and try out newfound skills. Fear of falling should not hold us back, only caution us to be careful. We often say, "Don't take unnecessary risks" but one person's necessary risk is another person's unnecessary one. What ultimate good does it do to sit back and judge the Fool for his choices? Does it get you any further along on your own path? Does it make you feel superior to chide someone or say "I told you so" as you sit comfortably secure in your safe world? I've lived life on both sides. I've been the Fool and I've been one of the cautious crowd and I can tell you that the "safe" life is not safe at all. There is no known human way to avoid falling and pain and crashing and burning. Being physically safe does not equal emotional safety, although being in physical danger can be emotionally traumatic. So it's probably not a good idea to let the Fool reign all the time. The Fool truly is like an infant and does not fully comprehend the dangers and repercussions of his actions. He leads us into the unknown wilds and after a time or two of falling flat on our faces, most of us learn our lesson and grow "wise." Unfortunately, many of us grow up and become far too mature for our own good and abandon the Fool behind. Many of us wake up one day, somewhere around the middle of our lives, and we ache for the Fool we have lost. There are 78 cards in a tarot deck, each illuminating an experience or concept of life. The integration of these experiences and concepts is the challenge, both in reading tarot and in living life itself. On Alicia Keys' same album, As I Am, there is another song called Lesson Learned and it ends with these lyrics: Life ain't perfect if you don't know what the struggle's for Falling down ain't falling down if you don't cry when you hit the floor It's called the past 'cause I'm getting past and I ain't nothing like I was before. You ought to see me now. Yes I was burned but I call it a lesson learned Mistake overturned but I call it lesson learned. My soul has returned so I call it a lesson learned. Another lesson learned.... The Fool may not learn, but we can. Still, the Fool's usefulness is in locating the teaching moments in life. Where would we find our lessons if we don't play the fool from time to time, take the chance, step out of our safety zone and risk something? Hudes Tarot Deck by Susan Hudes Published by US Games Copyright 1995

Seriously Bad Readings

So you lay the cards out, you talk about what they mean, you tell all you can see and then some and then the sitter says, "Um...I'm not sure who you just read for, but it wasn't me." Oops! Your face flushes and you sit there a bit stunned for a moment before stammering, "Are you sure? I mean, nothing fits? Nothing at all?" Nope. So what do you do when you're just plain wrong? May I present to you this fallible human suit. News flash: you will get it wrong. It happens to us all. Some will say, well the cards are NEVER wrong, only the reader can be wrong. The reader interpreted them poorly. Maybe. Or maybe the wrong cards came up. I've had it happen. I threw a spread meant for someone else but the cards distinctly and clearly told the tale of my life angst at the time. As I'm reading I'm marveling that this other person was going through exactly the same things I was, look at that! And when she couldn't relate to Thing ONE in the reading, I realized those were MY cards, not hers. Were the cards right or wrong? Well, damn, I was trying to give her a reading, not me, so the cards were wrong for her. There's this Dan guy on Aeclectic Tarot Forum that always says, "It's not about you, it's about the sitter." True enough. It is about the sitter and when the sitter looks blankly at you and says the reading sucked, suddenly its really really hard for it not to be about you. You're the one that read the cards, after all. The ego really gets a bruising then and it can be difficult to regain your composure after such a flop. We all want to read really well. We want to be accurate. We want to give the sitter what they came for. And if we admit it to ourselves, we want them to go, "Wow...how'd she do that?" Tarot reading is both easy and hard. It does take a lot of study and time and effort to get to know the cards really well. There is plenty of skill involved. But a tarot reading straight out of the box with the Little White Book that came with the deck can be just as chillingly accurate as one done by someone with thirty or forty tarot reading years under their belt. So there's one chip off the old ego. Your tarot experience does not matter. Your reading ability does not matter. You read the cards, you were wrong, or the cards were wrong or something. And what does it matter which? The reading pooped. Oh freaking well. You just shrug it off, let it go, and move on. That's hard but it's really the only thing you can do. Sure, you can learn from it...I did. I still do. I'm certainly not past having those kinds of readings. I don't make excuses, I don't try to make what I said fit the situation or backpedal in any way. I simply say, well...I screwed up. Besides, one stinky reading in the many, many other good readings I've done shouldn't be the one that makes me throw the cards down and walk away. Sitters come to readers for insight, advice, a psychic tickle for their nickel or some other reason. Ultimately, the responsibility for what they do with the reading is up to them. They received it, they own it. They can toss it, disown it, or follow every last word to the end. It's up to them. If they get angry because something you said you saw in the cards ended up being different than what ultimately happens, that's their prerogative, but I think that's a consumer mentality. It's like they bought a toaster that ended up fritzing out in a week's time and feel like they got gypped...literally. (I so amuse myself...gypped comes from gypsy doncha know?) But tarot reading is on a different level altogether. It's not a product, it's an experience. It's not a guarantee, it's an opportunity. It's just not measurable or concrete the way a purchased thing is. So you're providing a service? You gave it. They don't like it? They won't come back. Oh well, them's the breaks. Don't sweat it. Do I sound callous? I mean, people come to tarot readers looking for advice, guidance, a peek into themselves and their lives. If we steer them in the wrong direction, it's hard not to feel bad. Well, I didn't say don't feel bad. Anytime someone's advice goes wrong, it's natural to feel a bit responsible. There's not a service professional in the world who doesn't sometimes get it wrong. There's not a lawyer, a financial advisor, therapist, doctor, student advisor, or anyone else who gets paid to give advice that hasn't dropped a bomb once or twice. Framed certificates on your wall don't guard against being fallible. And when you're dealing with something as hard to nail down as intuitive flashes, grasping into the ether for something solid to show someone, it's all the more difficult to hit it every single time. So take it easy on yourself and just let it go. When you let it go you free your mind up for the next reading. When you let it go, you also let your ego go, and your ego really has nothing to do with reading tarot, so good riddance. When you let it go you embrace your own humanity and gain more compassion for the other humans in this world and that can only make you a better tarot reader. Honesty is your best tool. It's much better to say, "Well, I guess that reading really sucked, I'm sorry. Would you like a rain check for another?" Besides, I've found that I just read better for some people than others. If you've ever gone to a reader that your friend raved about and found the reading less than flat for you, it's not that the reader sucks, but the connection -- whatever that is -- just didn't, well, connect. Who's fault is that? No one's, of course, so don't waste your time taking responsibility for it. I will admit, when I gave that first really, really bad reading it shook my confidence for a while, and that, too, only means I'm human, and in need of grace, as are we all. So whether you're on the giving or receiving end of a crappy reading, remember that. So you may not return with your coin purse to a reader with whom you did not connect, and no one expects you will, but unless there was some seriously fraudulent smack going on, don't hold it against them. If you've read tarot yourself at all, you know how it is. Some readings just suck. Let it go.

Le Bateleur: Shuckster or the Real Deal?

Recently I watched one of those "magician tricks revealed" programs with a masked magician, masked to hide his identity from the other magicians who would supposedly be extremely pissed at him for giving away their precious secrets. Nevermind that there are all kinds of instructional books and videos that reveal these same "secrets." The irony was profound. The smoke and mirrors were still present even within a context that was supposed to be transparent and revealing. It's funny, though, most of us really don't want to know how the magicians saw women in half or pull a rabbit out of a hat. We don't really want the sense of wonder ruined. We want to believe what we see the magician doing, even if we know we have to suspend our disbelief in order to see it. Recently, we've seen a "new" kind of magician come on the scene but which is really a throwback to magician tradition: the street magician. These guys are good. They have to be. They have no special stage effects, no curtains, no tarted up assistants. It's just them, their own props, and you. The tarot's own Le Bateleur, or "the street performer" means literally, "one who uses a wand," hence...a magician. Wands are a point of focus for the magic practitioner and for the audience. A magician may use it to distract, to point, to focus your attention on something, or something else. It is a tool and therefore not particularly imbued with any power of its own. Just like the wands in Ollivander's Wand Shop could only be wielded well by a particular person, so a magician's wand is his own tool and subject to his own bidding. The wand is the most consistent element in any Magician card from the earliest to the present, whether he is pictured more as a shuckster or a sort of wizard, the wand is usually clearly visible in the card most often in the subject's hand. Most of all, what we need to remember about this guy is that, historically, he was seen as a cheat, a shuckster who swindled people out of their coins by pulling the wool over their eyes. He's the guy who offers a chance to play a "fair game" with loaded dice and a stacked deck. The Magician is the instigator. Numbered one in the Major Arcana, he's the guy who gets things started, who makes something from nothing, or so it appears. Is he for real? Or is he pulling the wool over our eyes? Does it matter? I don't think so. Some focus on this guy's shell game and others focus on his charisma and still others believe he has real power to magically manipulate the essences of life. Tom Tadfor Little, in his essay about The Magician, shows how the use of The Magician in the game of tarocchi offers a great analogy to his meaning in tarot: The tarot dates from times when the ancient feudal system had been intruded on and transformed by an ever more important middle class of artisans, merchants, and others "out for themselves" in the world. Such people were not well respected. The great artists of the Renaissance, whose paintings and sculptures are now seen as priceless masterpieces of what is highest in the human spirit, were in their own time lumped together with the cobblers, housepainters, tailors, and others who worked with their hands to provide purely utilitarian goods and services. So both the juggler/magician and the artisan/craftsman were "nobodies" operating outside the formal hierarchical world of the nobility, yet neither were they serfs or slaves; indeed they might be wealthy enough (or clever enough) to carry influence out of proportion to their social status... In the game, the court cards are all worth points, but the trumps are generally not. The only exceptions are the World, the Magician, and the Fool, which are each worth as much as kings, making them among the most valuable cards in the game. Now if you are dealt the Fool or World, those points are guaranteed to you, because neither of those cards can be captured during play. The Magician, on the other hand, is extremely vulnerable to being captured, because it is outranked by all the other trumps. So to win a trick with the Magician, the other players must all play suit cards, not trumps. This is not an easy thing to arrange. It can happen only if (a) you are out of a particular suit that everyone else still has, or (b) everyone else is completely out of trumps. If neither of those conditions occur, you will likely lose the Magician (and all its points) to some other player. So arranging an opportunity to play the Magician card without losing it is a major component of tarot strategy. One can generally not count on the lucky opportunity of running out of a suit that others still have, although it is easy enough to take advantage of the opportunity if you are the last one to play in a given trick. More challenging and fun is saving the Magician until everyone else has run out of trumps. (For this to work, you must be dealt many of the trumps to begin with--if not, you are likely to run out early yourself.) You hold the Magician card until the end of the game, when you hope all the other players will be defenseless against it. Furthermore, the way the game works, players are often caught holding court cards through the middle of the game, because it is too risky to play them when they might be captured by a trump. So at the end of the game, players are finally forced to play their valuable court cards. There is no greater glee in the game than taking a handful of royalty by playing the Magician in the last trick. This feature is so prominent that in most versions of the game, a player who pulls this maneuver off gets a hefty point bonus! The Magician is a coward, a swindler, and a cheat. He lives by his wits. All the other cards of the major arcana depict high earthly rulers (Pope and Emperor, for example) or archetypal powers (like Love, Death, and Time), which are unambiguously superior to the kings, queens, and knights of the court. Only the Magician, as an ignoble commoner, cannot "logically" triumph over royalty. By his powers of illusion, dexterity, and fast talk, though, he can capture them! As if his portrayal on the card were not enough to make the point clear, the rules of the game are contrived so that the Magician lurks secretively throughout the entire hand, waiting for the great powers of the cosmos to play themselves out; he appears by surprise at the end to capture a veritable hoard of royalty who were too cautious or inept to enter the fray of the early part of the game. I think the game of tarot is full of wry social and metaphysical ironies of this type. The Magician is the ultimate manipulator. Although without nobility or rank, he rakes in his victory by unabashedly exploiting the rules of the game of life. And here's another cool thing about the Magician card: if you add the value of the letters for Le Bateleur, the sum is 78, the number of cards in a traditional tarot deck; however, if one takes into consideration how the letter U was often represented as the letter V (whose value is 22) then the total becomes 100 which reduces to 1 which is the placement of the Magician in the Major Arcana sequence. Wow! How'd he do that? When this card appears in a reading, you really have to be careful. He's not bad news, but he's not always good news either. With him, there's always more than what meets the eye, and even just knowing that can be helpful. He can represent someone who is just simply charismatic and charming, who naturally brings attention to himself, who shines in the spotlight. He has a bit of a Midas touch, too, in that he has the ability to transform any situation to his benefit. He is endowed with a creative energy and spark that creates something from nothing, or so it may seem. He's entertaining and, like celebrities tend to be, also a bit self-centered and yes, manipulative. On the negative side, he is narcissistic and uses his considerable powers of persuasion and deception to his own, selfish ends. As advice, I often see this card urging me to start something, and encouraging me that I have what it takes within me already to accomplish something to make something I want to happen. See, in most tarot decks the Magician is shown with all the symbols of all four suits laid out on a table at hand. You have the tools, you have the knowledge, you might have to shuck and jive a bit to make it happen, but you can do it.

New on the Tarot Horizon

Michael recently emailed me with this lovely tarot deck in progress: The Urban Tarot by graphic artist Robert Scott. I emailed Robert and asked him if it was alright that I feature his work on 78 Notes and he graciously agreed. I am not a tarot deck collector. Though I have upwards of 20 some tarot decks I use them all. I have traded or sold or given away decks that, while I initially felt drawn to the art, just didn't resonate with me in some way or another. There are many decks I can appreciate from afar and not feel the need to own. However, if this deck is ever completed, I really think I would like to work with it. These images, while maintaining the traditional symbolism also inject a modern sense to the meanings. Many deck artists do that, so it's not like that's something new, but the way Robert translates the Thoth tarot with gritty city scenes and characters is something that grabs my attention. The graphic style that appears as paper collage is multidimensional so that the images are layers and almost have a 3-D effect. The different parts of the scene will, at different times, appear to move forward and grab your attention. For both intuitive and traditional-meaning style tarot readers, these cards have so much to offer. I do hope you've been keeping up with The Tarot Connection Podcast, though I had taken a short hiatus from recording segments. I just submitted a continuation of my numbers series, The Eights, for a recent podcast and Leisa has included it on Episiode 58. Be sure to check out the teleclass with Robert Place. (He also has a deck in progress I am impatiently awaiting, TheTarot of the Sevenfold Mystery.) She also has devoted an entire episode to an interview with author Derek Armstrong whose latest book, The Last Troubadour, seems rather groundbreaking in that it is based on accurate historical research and uses the characters from the tarot. Looks to be right up my alley!

Mixed Musings

Life is not linear. In tarot, we so often do the Past, Present, Future spread or something like that and it may give the impression that life, too, lines up in a row like the cards where one thing follows after the next and the next. It's way more complicated than that. My life has tangential tentacles that reach out in various directions and get tangled up and weave in and out of each other. I've been married and divorced twice now. My first marriage was in many ways horrible. Just horrible. The man was brutal and cruel and sadistically abused me. But there were sweet times, too, and we had a child together that we both love. My second marriage was sweet but died a slow, painful death. We had three children together and raised my first child together as well. I am without a doubt heartbroken that that relationship fell to pieces and couldn't be put back together again. And yet...I am in love again. This man is incredibly sweet and fine and we fit together despite our sixteen year age difference. I find myself smiling absentmindedly because my heart is so full and whole. Whole? Didn't I just say it was broken? What the hell? Yeah...it's like that. Do I have a heart for each man that I have loved...one for each that beats and breaks? Or just one heart that opens a bit wider for each person I love? A heart that hurts for the failures and mistakes and abuses and injuries and that same heart that is filled when my love is loved. Relationships...men...people... are not interchangeable. One relationship cannot take the place of another. I have lost much and those losses are not replaced by another relationship. Am I making sense? The loss of my marriage is profound and being in a new relationship really does not quell that sense of defeat and disappointment. At the same time, I am walking on air, happier than I've been in a long, long time. I don't want to hurt anyone with my happiness, so I tend to keep it to myself. I don't shout my feelings from the rooftops...I play my cards close to the vest and watch how things play out. But damn, I am in love. Seriously. He and I both have tried to get each other out of our systems. I went back to my marriage and tried to make it work. He went to another relationship and tried to make that work. Through it all we could not let the other go entirely. We kept gravitating back to each other until finally we both had to look each other in the eyes and admit what had been incredibly obvious to others: we were and are in love. So what is this in tarot terms. Five of Cups? Yeah...the sense of loss overwhelms at times yet the two cups that remain standing show the potential of what can be. Five of Swords? Yeah, that, too. Loss and gain together at great price. Three of Swords? A truth that both hurts and heals and sets one free. Judgement, a crucial realization that moves one from one way of living to another. Ace of Cups? Sure thing. A flood of emotions, both positive and negative, the force of which pulls you away and toward. The Fool? Quite right. The Lovers, The World, The Star. Death, Strength, Temperance. They all play a role and describe a facet of what has transpired these last few years. That Two of Pentacles juggler and the Two of Swords blindfolded woman both trying to hold two opposing realities at the same time. I can do it. I do it all the time it seems. I hold it all in my heart and in my life and realize that I do not have to choose one feeling or another...but simply feel. To everything there is a season and a purpose under heaven, so said Solomon the Wise. And yet even he separated the times to laugh and to cry, whereas I tend to do them both at once. My seasons overlap like an Indian Summer in October or an April snow that blankets the forsythia. I know this and remember this when reading tarot. That while the cards may be read in a neat row, seldom is anyone's life mapped out like that. Read the space between and around the cards, see the various intersectional lines that connect them in a spiderweb like pattern that allows for blended experiences rather than ok, this will happen then this, then that. Remember that while a card may say a person will feel thus and so it does not mean they will act accordingly nor make a decision based upon those feelings. Or just because X and Y are in place it doesn't not necessarily follow that Z will be the outcome. Leave room for inconsistencies and overlaps and ambiguities and ambivalence. Because this is real, human life we're reading in those cards and life is one big soup pot sometimes.