78 Notes to Self: A Tarot Journal

It was a gorgeous spring Sunday that felt very much like summer. While I was relaxing at home, the phone rang with an unfamiliar number on the caller ID. I let the voicemail receive it and heard, "Ginny, it's Caitlin...you need to call me, it's about Mom." Her mother was in poor health and I assumed she was probably in the hospital and she was calling me because I live in the same town. I'm close by, accessible, and can more easily offer assistance when needed. I was not prepared to hear her say, "Mom passed away this morning."

"NO SHE FUCKING DIDN'T!!!"

And the Tower crashed and burned and I fell from the windows.

"Yes, Ginny, yes...she did."

The third sword pierced my heart and in that instant my heart bled tears of overwhelming grief and a cry of agony escaped my lips as if that sword was an actual steel blade invading my chest cavity.

Jonna was my friend. For thirty years we shared our lives, from the halls of the high school we attended together, through boyfriends and lovers, marriages (my two, her one), our children's births (my four, her two), moving houses, through her mother's serious illness, her father's death, my divorces, our friendship remained.

Our relationship embodied the 2 of cups, the 3 of cups, the 5 of swords, the 5 of wands, the 6 of cups, the Sun, the Moon, the Wheel, the Fool. She was the Queen of Cups and I the Queen of Swords. We sometimes clashed and I'd get pointy and she would cry and pout. Yes, she drank too much, too. Her favorite tarot card from all my decks was always, without fail, the Ace of Cups. She wore her emotions on her sleeve, her face, her whole self was one big emotion. Her laughter was hearty and contagious, her tears deep with sorrow. When she felt something, it was big. My mother had a phrase for people like her. She'd say, "They're just too too!" The woman was intense. My airy Libra self needs people like her. I do seem to gravitate towards watery folks. They keep me in touch with my own emotions even if I do tend to wonder what all their fuss is about.

In the last week since she died, I have experienced a wide range of emotions and thoughts that, were I to align them to tarot cards, not one of them would align with Death. Our friendship hasn't ended. It still lives on as long as I live to love her. It has changed, yes. I won't be able to call her with some silly bit of daily, mundane news or frustration. I won't hear her voice on the other end of the phone anymore. I won't be wrapped up in her deep, soothing hug. I won't share another toast, a cigarette, a moment when we look at each other and just know what the other is thinking. I hope to see her again, but until then, this part of our relationship is different. But it isn't over. I still remember. I still love.

This is why, I think, the Death card doesn't often show up to herald physical death. Maybe the Tower. Maybe the Wheel. Maybe even the 6 of Swords. But not Death. Because although her physical life has ended, the reading would have been mine, not hers. What I am experiencing is a kind of ending, yes, but more a change, a hurt, a loss, sadness, a rush of memories, a need to connect with old friends, a grief. There are many other cards that better describe what I am feeling and doing and Death isn't one of them. Five of Cups is a big one. I am for sure feeling a whole lot of regret and deep, painful sadness.

I don't know how to do this, to lose my best friend. We had a rather rocky relationship and had grown a bit distant these last two years. That was my doing. As her health declined, those that loved her tried persistently to help her to help herself. She was still drinking, still addicted to prescription pain meds. Depressed, she spent most of her days in bed. She laughed less and cried more and when she would call I wouldn't pick up the phone until she left a voicemail so I could see if she was sober or not. She had verbally attacked me last year for not calling her when I had actually left several voicemails on her phone. Afterwards, she didn't remember yelling at me. It had begun to feel crazymaking. I knew she was losing some of her self. I couldn't bear it. Then other times she would call, sober, and we'd talk as if nothing was different. She would remember things. We would get all caught up on each others' lives and then get silly and stupid and laugh just like we always do. The last time I saw her I helped her do her nails, gave her a pedicure, and helped her choose her outfit for her daughter's rehearsal dinner. I guess it was my own denial that wouldn't allow me to really take in the seriousness of her condition. I remember her daughter holding her mother's face in her hands and saying, "Mom, look at me. I need you to BE HERE with me tomorrow. (Her wedding day) If you can't be with me I don't want you there at all. I'm not trying to be ignorant. I'm not trying to be mean. I NEED YOU. BE WITH ME. BE HERE." Caitlin looked at me and I could see the desperate worry in her eyes. I understood, but I knew Jonna. She was a fighter, a survivor. She could drink any drunk under the table and still dance on top of it. She had tried to overdose on her pain meds before and couldn't. I said, "Don't worry, Caitlin. She will be fine."

And she was. She attended her daughter's dinner and wedding. She stayed sober. Her husband lost his job and with it went the health insurance. She couldn't get her pain meds, so her addiction was broken. I talked with her last Friday night. We were supposed to get together the next day. I said, "I sure wish you were here so we could have a drink." I knew she was an alcoholic, but I also knew she wouldn't stop drinking, so if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. She said, "I don't really do that so much anymore."
"Really?" I asked, incredulous.
"Yeah, well...it causes...problems." I knew instantly she meant problems with her husband.
"Yeah, I bet it does!" I said.
"I still do, every now and then, but not so much."
"Well good. I can't wait to see you tomorrow."
"Ok hon, I'll call you when we're on our way, so you'll know when to be there."
"Perfect," I said, "We'll catch up then."
"Ok, I love you, hon."
"I love you, too. Bye."

I do. I love her still. So it is not Death. It is not over. Maybe I'll see the Death card before I go, but for now, he will have to wait until our friendship ends. If I have anything to say about it, he's going to wait a good long time. I think the Death card doesn't show up for us when we might expect it to because if there is still one person carrying on, the relationship is not dead. If we had ended our friendship, yes, Death comes in. Now, I still believe Death does and can mean literal, physical death, and I think it does show up in some readings to mean just that. But see, that's obvious. We wonder more why it didn't show, why we didn't get the obscene and blatant warning. Besides the fact that even a tarot warning would not have sounded as loud as her declining physical, mental and emotional state anyway, the experience of her death has been anything and everything but an ending. Or maybe I'm still in denial. It doesn't really feel like denial. I know she's gone, I accept it. I am grateful she is now no longer in pain, she is at peace, she is with her beloved grandmom and dad. I will miss her and yet I accept that she is gone from me now. It's just that it doesn't feel like it's over...because I remember my friend's love for me and know that part, the important part, lives on.

Someone once told me to be very careful when asking God for strength because, sure enough, a situation would arise that would severely test one's resolve. Lately, I've been thrown quite a few situations where the cardinal virtue of Strength has been tested and whether or not I've passed is unknown, but these virtuous muscles are aching. In my case a lot of the situations have surrounded a generalized inability to say "No." I thought I'd gotten pretty good at using that word, given my rebellious and stubborn nature, but apparently I need more practice. When two cardinal virtues are standing toe to toe making rude gestures at each other, which does one choose? Does one choose Charity over Fortitude? Or is holding one's ground more loving in the end? Moral dilemmas suck.


The Major Arcana includes three out of four of what is known in the Western philosophical tradition as Cardinal Virtues:

• Prudence - the ability to judge between actions with regard to appropriateness in particular situations
• Justice - moderation between self-interest and the rights and needs of others
• Temperance - practicing self-control, abstention, and moderation
• Courage or Fortitude - forbearance, endurance, and ability to confront fear and uncertainty, or intimidation

While Justice, Temperance, and Strength are featured in Tarot, Prudence is suspiciously absent. It's kind of integrated with Justice, but not highlighted as the other virtues in its own card. There is a deck that includes it, the Minchiate Etruria, but this deck is not considered a true tarot deck and includes many "extra" cards representing the virtues, zodiac and elements. I have no idea why Prudence was exempted from Tarot representation. There are some theories bandied about, but the one I find most compelling is that in reading medieval texts, one gets the idea that Prudence is distinguished from the other virtues. It is often lauded as the highest of the cardinal virtues almost as an end result of combining all the other virtues in a human being.

One text close to the earliest trionfi cards illustrates this - the funeral eulogy for Gian Galeazzo Visconti, written by Petrus de Castelleto in 1402. Petrus compares Gian Galeazzo to "Twelve Stars which are twelve virtues". In his sermon he names a virtue, and then describes how Gian Galeazzo exemplified it. He divides the virtues into four sets of three:

1. Faith
2. Hope
3. Charity

4. Justice
5. Fortitude
6. Temperance

7. Prudence
8. Piety
9. Mercy

10. Magnificence
11. Intelligence
12. Humility

The second set are the three Virtues found in Tarot. Note that Prudence belongs to a different set of three.

But I digress. Interesting stuff, but rather than dive any deeper into the extremely large pool of philosophical pontificating on the ordering of virtues, I'll try to rein in my inclination to run off in miscellaneous directions. Strength is the card of the day today.

As I was saying, Strength is one of the four Cardinal Virtues and it represents fortitude, or courage. It is exemplified by firmness of spirit, steadiness of will in doing good despite obstacles.
Fortitude limits inordinate rashness and fear in the face of major pain. It is considered one of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. The others are: wisdom, understanding, counsel, knowledge, piety, and fear, or reverence, of the Lord. The iconography of Strength commonly shows a woman, a pillar, and a lion. Virtues were often personified as women even though the etymology of the word virtue means "manliness." A relief on the tomb of Pope Clement II in the Bamburg Cathedral in Germany depicts the four virtues. Strength is shown as a woman grasping a lion by its jaws. Given that Pope Clement II died in 1047, this image predates tarot by a few hundred years.

Fortitude is also known as Courage which is the ability to confront fear, pain, risk, danger, uncertainty, or intimidation. There are generally two different types of courage. "Physical courage" is courage in the face of physical pain, hardship, or threat of death, while "moral courage" is the ability to act rightly in the face of popular opposition, shame, scandal, or discouragement. (Given this definition, one can understand why Prudence would be needed to first distinguish the right action before mustering up the fortitude to actually do the right thing, thereby elevating Prudence over all. One must first posses the virtue of knowing what is right before exercising any of the others.) That said, in looking at the meaning of the tarot card Strength, resist the prevailing modern custom to oversimplify this card to mean only a suppression of internal vice or urges. It encompasses a whole heck of a lot more than that. I blame Waite for this dilution of Strength's meaning. He ascribed words such as self-control patience, compassion, perseverance, moderation, kindness, gentleness, slowness, softness, serenity, discipline, and inner strength to the Strength card. While these qualities may be needed in a situation involving courage, I do not feel they truly describe the virtue nor the actions or attitudes primarily associated with it. A lot of those words would better describe Temperance and Love. This would explain the changes one sees in the earlier historical tarot Strength cards and the later, more modern ones.

Earlier cards often show the woman engaging the lion directly, taking control over the beast in a very overt, aggressive way. Later cards commonly show a more peaceful coexistence between the lady and the lion, as if the lion were a domesticated kitty. The struggle and challenge, as well as the obvious risk and danger is absent in the later cards. This is one of the reasons I really love the older decks. The symbolism is more faceted and inclusive. For example the Strength card from the Tarocchino Milanese, first published by Gumppenberg in 1835, shows a woman in the very "unladylike" position of straddling a lion's back while taking firm hold of its mouth. She's quite determined to tame this beast and is not opting for Waite's more subtle or gentle approach. The Robin Wood deck, on the other hand, a much more modern deck, shows a smiling maiden and a smiling lion having no issues whatsoever. Even if one were to limit this card to meaning a struggle with one's own "internal beast" or Freudian "id" you would think there would be more to the contest than smiling at it and watching it roll over for a belly scratch. While it is very true that sometimes the most courageous thing is to do nothing, to smile and walk away, there are also other times when facing the danger head on and attacking the issue with force is the right approach. If there is no real challenge then there is no need for Strength. If the situation holds no potential for injury or harm, why invoke courage? During a very fearful time in my life I was told that courage was the act of feeling afraid but doing it anyway. Understanding that fear was a natural response to danger and courage was not the absence of fear helped me exhibit the qualities of Fortitude during a time when it was crucially important to both mine and my child's lives that I grabbed that lion's mouth and shut it. The later cards show no hint of fear, no sweat. In essence, Strength in tarot has been reduced down to one mustering up the courage to refuse dessert rather than facing down terror or threat. No matter the source, be it internal or external, and no matter the type of courage needed, whether physical or moral, the implication of risk must be present in order to even need the virtue to be displayed. While lions are wild and not domesticated and imply a sort of risk, so could my bathtub when wet, yet I don't see drawing the Strength card before my morning shower.

I always cringe a little when I see the Strength card in a reading, much like that prayer for Strength uttered when feeling weak may invite more struggles, it is like a warning sign: Danger Ahead. It always seems to indicate there will surely come a situation in which you will be tested in ways that you feel are beyond your present abilities to overcome. You will be challenged, you will feel fear, you will be at risk, and you may be injured in the process. Even if you do the right thing, even if you stand firm, even if you go in head first and grab that lion by the mouth, those teeth are sharp and you're liable to come away with at least a few scrapes and bruises. Although the gentle approach may be required, it's not going to be easy. This is not a tame lion you are dealing with no matter if that lion resides inside of you or is an outside influence and you will have to find the inner fortitude to not only determine the right course of action but then to follow through on that course.

"Courage does not always roar. Sometimes it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow.' "

This is one of my least liked tarot card trumps. I'm not sure it's anyone's favorite given its uncomfortable depiction of torture, but my main beef with this card is not only does it tell me that what I want requires a very long wait, but in the meantime I'm not going to be enjoying that wait. Unlike the Star that also depicts that my goal is afar off, this card says the intervening time is pretty much going to suck for me, though I will learn a lot from it. Bah. Take your life lesson and hang that from a tree, ok?

To even attempt to understand the meaning of this Major Arcana card, one really does need to get the historical perspective. Times have most certainly changed since the creation of Tarot and this card references something that people of the 1500's would have readily recognized that we in the 21st Century have no current context. Well, we do, but not in this manner. This picture of a man hung upside down by one foot is what was known in Italy as a pittura infamante, a defaming portrait. It was used as a kind of rag publication that showed thieves, traitors, those guilty of bankruptcy or fraud in this punishing position and displayed in centers of public view. Those paintings weren't literal, in that the depicted victims were not actually hung in this manner but were shamed by the portrait. They were akin to our political cartoons except that they were approved and even requested by the municipal civil authorities as a form of public punishment. They began to lose popularity when they began to be appreciated more as an art form, like the political cartoon, rather than be seen as a form of punishment. The intended effect, shame, was lessened, and the practice diminished.

But why use this particular positioning of the figure to shame someone? That answer can be found in even earlier paintings of a more religious nature. Religious art from the 13th through 15th centuries, before the creation of Tarot cards, show various scenes of the Last Judgement and the unrighteous receiving their eternal damnation. In many of these scenes one can see people dangling from their feet over the pit of Hell. In one particular fresco by Giovanni da Modena in the cathedral of San Petronio in Bologna, Italy there is a striking similarity in the figures shown hanging to the modern Hanged Man card. In this picture of a portion of the fresco, you can see the hanged men in the upper right corner and their positions, particularly with the hands bound in back and the leg crossed, mirror the tarot card image almost precisely. Given this painting predates the origin of Tarot, images such as this most definitely had to be the card's inspiration. Or at least the inspiration for the pittura infamante, from which the tarot card image is likely derived. The inference of showing someone hanged in this position then would be that the person is deserving of hell.

Some have said the card is derived from the story of Judas whose betrayal of Jesus for thirty pieces of silver prompted his suicidal hanging, which would align with the cards in which the figure is shown holding bags of money or with coins dropping out of his pockets, but Judas hanged himself by his neck, not upside down. The money bags probably reference the shame portraits of thieves or those guilty of defrauding others out of money rather than Judas. There is another prominent Biblical figure who met his death upside down, but he was crucified rather than hanged. The apostle Peter requested that his death sentence be carried out in an upside down fashion because he didn't feel worthy to be executed in the same manner as Jesus. The humility shown by that act is something often transferred to the Hanged Man's meaning, but the depiction doesn't truly reference that event just as it doesn't reference Judas. The early players of Tarocchi likely did not think of Peter or Judas when they saw that card, but would have seen someone shamed and humiliated for his crimes.

If the punishment was implied and not literal, as would be the case in the shame portraits, the idea would be towards rehabilitation, in a sense. The warning would be clear, that the subject is in danger of eternal damnation unless he gets a clue and changes his ways. Hence in the later renditions of the card we see the spiritual illumination that surrounds the head and the more meditative, serene facial expression. The card was to be taken as a life lesson, a warning, especially because the next card in succession is Death, which all knew to be the "wages of sin." This card would then be a prompt to take a moral inventory because none of us know when the Grim Reaper will call, so rather than end up singeing your head in hell's flames, maybe you need to rethink your actions and direction in life.

Meanwhile, I have no doubt that 16th century card makers would have politicized this card depicting a particular public figure as the Hanged Man that those using the cards might easily recognize, just as a political satirist might do today, less for punishment than humiliation and to bring a recognizable face and circumstance to the meaning of the card. And just for laughs.

Understanding the historical, artistic, and symbolic roots to the imagery of the Hanged Man allows us to be more precise in the given meaning to the card and then permits us to extrapolate to the reading and circumstances at hand. If someone was to be hung in this position unto death, it would take an exceedingly long time for the person to die. If it was merely for punishment's sake, hanging there for any amount of time in a public square would be torturous. To bear one's body weight only by one's ankle would tear the ligaments and joints, break the skin, rush the blood to one's head and generally mess with the spinal alignment and heart functioning. And it's just a very demeaning position to be in. Embarrassing. Humiliating. Helpless. For these reasons the card's meaning implies a longer time period during which one is relatively helpless to change anything about one's situation and which is fraught with discomfort and pain. Is there anything to like about this card?

Well, yeah, though it is small comfort. The warning the shame portraits give is similar to this card's advice. Though you may have wound up in this position by your own unfortunate choices and decisions, and though you may not have much or any control over how things are playing out for you now, you can use this time for good as you re-evaluate how you got here and what you will do when you get down from here. Hanging upside down might be uncomfortable but it offers a very different perspective on things. One certainly gets a different view on life and circumstances and people while upside down. Haven't you done this as a child? Hanging by one's knees on the playground monkey bars or, like I used to do, hang upside down over the edge of the living room sofa, watching everyone walking on what now looks like the ceiling and you alone are walking "upright." Everything around me looked like Alice's view through the looking glass. So while you're dangling, give yourself a chance to see things from a different point of view. Only in this way will you be able to gain the objectivity, while in pain, to come away from this time with the necessary change in your thinking that will allow you to avoid these kinds of humiliating experiences in the future.

The Hanged Man illustrates one of those life learning experiences that none of us really choose to endure but, through our own previous choices, have landed ourselves in nonetheless. We can simply endure it and learn nothing, blame those who strung us up, and feel utterly victimized or we can use the experience to our betterment. I really hate that kind of advice when I'm in the midst of some really hard emotional experience, so I hesitate to give it, at least without first empathizing with the pain being endured. It sounds canned and patronizing, too. "What doesn't kill us will make us stronger," blah, blah, blah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up. Which is another reason I'm not pleased with this card because, as a reader, it sort of forces me to, while explaining its meaning, give that sort of advice. And it's not that it's Bad Advice, not really, it's just that we don't like to be told that in the throes of agony and helplessness. Because the person in the Hanged Man's position is likely to be feeling quite victimized, it almost feels like blaming the victim, which I really do not like to do.

So there you have it. While there are other nuances of the Hanged Man that I haven't begun to cover, this at least explains the "Ugh!" reaction that many have to the card. Because even the positive aspect feels a bit humiliating. What do you do with a card like that?

I know you know at least one. I know you've probably even been one at some point, though it may be embarrassing to admit. At least once and probably many more times you have made that proverbial mountain out of a molehill. You Drama King/Queen! It's ok, really. I have a side that inclines toward the dramatic. Ok, maybe more than a side. A whole flank of my being perhaps. Enough that a friend of mine, who also relishes the fair amount of drama sprinkled through out her life, will call me out, "O! M! G! You're being so drama!" At least we recognize it in ourselves and can laugh at it when it rears its entertaining head. This fact makes us decidedly not Drama Queens. The true Drama King or Queen does not accept the fact that he or she is being ridiculously melodramatic nor do they seem aware that they are consistently creating situations that result in exhausting drama for themselves and others. So my friend and I were talking last night when she wondered aloud, "Which tarot card would represent drama?" We had been discussing the Moon card and the dramatic side to that card and the question made us both stop, mid-convo, and mentally rifle through the deck. At first we were rather nonplussed. I said the Fool and Moon combination would make me think "drama" but I wasn't satisfied with my answer. We continued our conversation and somehow the Ten of Swords was mentioned and she interjected, "There is the drama card!" I laughed, "Oh yeah! For sure!" Talk about over the top, that card screams "Woe is meeeeeee!"

Recently my twelve-year-old daughter asked me what labels we used for various cliques in high school. Of course we had those we called "Jocks." She said "Jocks are perennial." (Yes, she is twelve with a very broad vocabulary.) I said we called "Stoners" by a different name, "Freaks." We had "Nerds" which would probably be "Geeks" or something like that today. We had a group we called "Grits" which were closely related to the "Redneck" in that they liked to race their souped-up cars and dress in leather jackets and grease their hair back in 1950's style. As she tried to find modern equivalents for the late 1970 era categories she asked, "Did you have Emo kids?"

"No! Because ALL teenagers are EMO!"

I bet your most embarrassing drama queen/king incident happened when you were an adolescent, right? And if it happened later, you probably felt like an angst-ridden teenager. As adults, we're not immune to our emo side and will occasionally exhibit distinctly self-absorbed, overblown emotional displays, especially while inebriated. It's ok, I forgive you. We're all entitled to occasionally wax melodramatic over some insignificant thing. Like that time I was trying to get ready for work and the new kitten I had just brought home had gone on a spastic kitty frenzy and climbed the curtains in the bedroom and brought the whole curtain rod down and for some reason this event rendered me incapable of going to work that day. Or that Christmas Eve scene I had with my first boyfriend in which I dramatically broke up with him, slapping him full in the face a la Joan Crawford, held back the tears until I burst through the door at home and ran to my mother and collapsed in a soppy, bawling mess in her lap. My mother was entertaining a date at the time. I didn't notice that the lights were low, all but the Christmas tree lights were off, there were wine glasses on the coffee table.

Usually I keep at least a corner of my eye on presidential political races but not this time. I had become so cynical, so tired of the same old, same old, that when Senator Clinton lost the primary, I had no further reason to care. Just a couple days before this election, I started paying attention. The night before Election Day my boyfriend, who, though he does not read tarot, is quite intuitive in his own right, said Senator Obama was going to win. Of course, given the polls, that wasn't such a grand psychic revelation. Still, I had my cynical doubts and thought it was just wishful thinking. I'm not impressed with either party anyway, but between the two evils, I'd have to say I'm definitely more Democratically inclined than Republican.

Election night we drove my daughter back home after she'd spent a few days here and I wasn't following the votes at all. As we drove into Virginia I made the statement that although Obama might win, he won't take Virginia as it has always historically gone Republican in presidential elections. When we got back home and I called my daughter's father to let him know she got home safe and sound, I casually asked, "So what are you doing?" He said, "Watching Obama win Virginia."

"WHAT?" I said, shocked.

"Yeah," he said, "he's taking Virginia." Any Democrat that can take Virginia is worth my attention.

I'm still cynical, but I am quite frankly amazed at the election of a president of the United States that is not white. I am relieved and have felt something for this country that I haven't felt in a very long time: Hope. I harbor no illusions that this or any president can significantly better things. Still, this election speaks volumes in many different ways. It's not only about electing a Black president, which is historic and encouraging, but also displays the extreme dissatisfaction so many of us have had with the current administration. Hope for the state of affairs in this country and in this world is something I haven't felt in a long time. While it still irks me that we have yet to elect a female president, and this election lends a whole lot of credence to something feminists have said for a long time -- that men, all men no matter their race, are more privileged in our society than women -- I acknowledge that this is a profound change in the right direction anyhow.

My hope is not tied to this president-elect, nor to our government, but to the people that voted for progress and change. And since I came very late to this election process this year, I missed the speech Senator Obama gave in New Hampshire. I listened to it the day after he was elected and was inspired most by this:

"We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics who will only grow louder and more dissonant in the weeks to come. We've been asked to pause for a reality check. We've been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope.
But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope."

How true is THAT? Now, I don't know who wrote his speech, but that hit me right where it matters. It reminded me of something attributed to the Apostle Paul in the book of Romans in the Bible: "For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience." (Romans 8:24-25) Hope differs from faith as this quote from the book of Hebrews explains, "Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see." (Hebrews 11:1) One can hope without faith, without being sure what they hope for will come to pass, but honestly, what good is that? And if you know anything about the Law of Attraction and manifesting your own life, hoping without the faith that your hopes will come true is practically useless. But I think we do that sort of thing all the time. We possess this random, floating, aimless hope that things will get better...someday.

In respect to tarot, I think tarot readings, whether you do them yourself or have someone read for you, place your hopes in context and can empower you to focus that hope and have faith in that hope as well. We often look to tarot readings for advice and insight into a situation. When a good tarot reading confirms that which you already know in your own gut, it allows you to focus your energies towards the outcome you desire. If the reading shows the current of events flowing in a direction you really do not want, you can shift your hope and focus your faith in a different direction. Tarot can be a really helpful tool in shaping your own destiny by clarifying your hope and reshaping it from a formless, airy wish to something with active energy and power to actually change your life. Because once we have that focused hope we then tend to make choices and act accordingly. We literally then step into our hope because we now have faith in it.

See, it's not that a tarot reading is telling you what will happen. It's more like a weather prediction that, based on the past and present conditions, it more than likely will rain tomorrow. Certainly we have all experienced weather predictions that have not come true, but given the prediction, we can at least prepare ourselves by taking an umbrella. We cannot control the weather and we cannot control all the various acts and decisions and so forth that come into creating the circumstances of our lives. But we can hope. I may disagree with President-Elect Obama on many things but I fully agree with him that there is never anything false about hope, particularly when it is accompanied with faith and action.

I just don't understand where some people come up with certain meanings for tarot cards. As far as I'm concerned they just pull them out of their underwear and parade them around like it should be perfectly evident from looking at the card that it means just that. So many times I just scratch my head and think: WTF? Let's say the Three of Wands shows up in a predictive position and the reader goes, "Well, she's going to go out and buy herself a new pair of earrings." Um. Mkay. Whatever. So then I start, painfully, trying to fit that interpretation to the card. I think, well, it is Wands and it could mean she goes out to actually do something. But it's a three, not a two, so I don't know where the pair of earrings comes into play. And it's not pentacles, so what's with the tangible purchase? And earrings? Ok, so maybe the card being used has a figure wearing earrings, what do I know? There are so many decks out there, maybe the reader honed in on the earrings in the image. So I try, hard as I might, to fit that to the Three of Wands. Finally I throw up my hands and give up. I can't do it. It feels wrong anyhow.

So then I hear, oh, it was an INTUITIVE reading. There. Now everything's all better.

Hell not!

Most people who know me would say I'm very much an inclusive, live and let live, no rules tarot reader. I'm open to practically everything where tarot is concerned because I believe the practice of reading tarot is a fluid, ever-evolving thing, but even I have my lines, my boundaries. I am a very intuitive reader. Any good tarot reader certainly utilizes their sense of intuition to a great degree but...and how can I say this without being misunderstood or without alienating my fellow intuitive readers...I believe the interpretation of the card must be somehow hedged in, based on a foundation of traditional, historical, symbolic meaning of the card in question.

I think fully intuitive tarot readings are great for firing up the intuitive neurons. It helps a reader look at all the various elements in a card image and begin really tapping into that place a bit to the side and beyond the card where actual reading of the cards happens. But I tend to look at it as an exercise, not an actual tarot reading. A fully intuitive reading doesn't need tarot cards. You could do it with a picture book, a magazine, toothpicks, stones, pig entrails, you name it. It's a reading, yes, but it's not a tarot reading even if you use tarot cards to do it.

I'm a big fan of those flashes one gets while reading, but if the flash of intuitive insight bears no relation to the cards in question I would certainly deliver said flash to the querant but I would preface it with, "I don't see this in the cards, but I feel I need to tell you..."

Maybe its my respect for the history of symbolism, of tarot, of having a tradition based on something rather than making it up as we go along that fuels my stance, but I feel very strongly that without these historic meanings, tarot is no more than a deck of pretty, or not so pretty, pictures. Why use them if you're not going to use their meanings? I mean, it's not like the pool of historic meanings is not deep or wide enough to swim in. There are some pretty off the wall traditional meanings, too. And I don't even really care where you derive those meanings be it the Marseille tradition, Waite, Golden Dawn, Crowley, or the freaking little white book. Ok, forget the little white book, that's going too far. But you get my point.

Intuitive readings are very suitable for oracle decks. I particularly like Froud's Fairies, personally. Those fey folk chatter and dance and give all kinds of messages you might not hear in a tarot reading. I love playing with those cards and they allow full rampant, random reign of my intuitive senses. Tarot, on the other hand, well...God forgive me...there are Rules.

Ack! Did I say that? *sigh* Yes I did.

I don't know if they are rules, per se, but they are a kind of framework, a tradition, a tried and true kind of consistency of semi-agreed-upon understandings. In looking into the number symbolisms, for example, I was amazed to find that, cross-culturally, numbers mean very much the same thing to people in different civilizations in different time periods. Same goes for colors and other symbols. When applied to tarot, these symbols actually mean something, have meant something for a very long time, and I see no sense in tossing all that out in favor of something you pulled out of your underwear just now. Your underwear may very well be psychic and that woman may very well go out and purchase a new pair of earrings, but you didn't get that from the tarot card in question. No, you didn't.

It annoys me, too, because there is such a wide and vast array of tarot meanings to pick and choose from, why pull something else out? That Three of Wands is not going to mean the same thing in every reading anyway, so why spin something else off it? Also, I might see something different about that card than another reader, all within the traditional framework, depending on the question, the spread, the position, and whatnot. It's vast, I tell you, utterly vast. I see no reason to muddy them up with random intuitive things that have no relation to the card. These random intuitive things may be very relevant to the situation, absolutely, so don't get me wrong here and think I'm against such things. Just don't say these things are in the cards, they're not. Unless your deck has a Happy Squirrel card, that is. A few decks actually do include this card and its from an episode of The Simpsons:

Episode 2F15
"Lisa's Wedding"
Written by Greg Daniels
Directed by Jim Reardon


Woman: I've been waiting for you, Lisa.
Lisa: [gasps] How did you know my name?
Woman: Your nametag. ["Hi, I'm Lady Lisa"] Would you like to know your future?
Lisa: Heh, sorry, I don't believe in fortune telling. I should go.
Woman: What's your hurry? Bart and Maggie and Marge are at the joust, and Homer is heckling the puppet show.
Lisa: [gasps] Wow, you can see into the...present.
Woman: Now we'll see what the future holds. [turns over a card from what looks like a Tarot deck]
Lisa: [gulps] The "Death" card?
Woman: No, that's good: it means transition, change.
Lisa: [relieved] Oh.
[the woman turns over another card]
Lisa: Oh, that's cute.
Woman: [gasps] "The Happy Squirrel"!
Lisa: [timid] That's bad?
Woman: Possibly. The cards are vague and mysterious.
[Image from The Happy Squirrel card from Victoria Regina Tarot copyright © 2000 Sarah Ovenall]

An ironic parody of the melodrama often shown in film regarding the Death card in tarot readings, the Happy Squirrel pokes fun at our own practice and keeps us from taking any of this too seriously. I love that some deck creators have included it in their decks. While I'm ranting about some readers not reading the cards themselves, please know that it's not all that serious. None of this is. It's tarot reading, for heaven's sake. Still, I can't help but be bugged when I hear some interpretation that is so obviously random. Do that, if you must, with the Happy Squirrel, but please refrain from that with my beloved tarot cards.

"If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away. "-- Henry David Thoreau

Maybe its a perspective unique to western society that when we see the Hermit in tarot, we become a bit puzzled or worried. Our immediate association is to think he must be lonely, hurt or even pissed off at the world, a misanthrope. We imagine he probably got stressed out and fed up and, like Garbo, exited the social scene with a dramatic, "I just vant to be left alone!" Certainly no one would willingly, consciously choose a life of solitude. He must be an exile, banished, or one of those poor lonely souls like Eleanor Rigby.

Poor guy, alone on that mountaintop holding that lantern out as if he's looking for someone to come find him. Pity.

No doubt that we are social animals and we are not meant to live our lives in an entirely solitary fashion. However, there is a big difference between loneliness and solitude. Loneliness implies a negative state of being where something is being taken from you. Solitude, on the other hand, is wholly positive, an active state that one chooses in order to quiet the external stimuli and focus on the richness of one's inner being.

The sole cause of man's unhappiness is that he does not know how to stay quietly in his room
Pascal, Blaise, Pensées, 136 (1660)

Being alone is suspect. People tend to worry about you when you spend what they consider to be too much time alone. Something must be wrong with you if you're not in the company of others more than being alone. Personally, I enjoy being alone. I sometimes go to the movies alone, eat in restaurants alone, wander museums and spend a lot of time in my room alone. I tend to prefer it to what I experience as stressful chatter among people. Anne Morrow Lindbergh observed, "What a commentary on civilization, when being alone is being suspect; when one has to apologize for it, make excuses, hide the fact that one practices it - like a secret vice." My solitude is even portable. I have developed this enveloping "bubble" that I wear when out in public so that even when someone speaks to me they often have to say, "Helllooo, I'm talking to you," to snap me out of it. So if you see me in the grocery store and I act like I'm ignoring you, I'm not. Well, I am, but not on purpose. Feel free to come right up to me and wave your hand across my face as it's probably the only way I will notice your presence.

So when I see the Hermit, I am not so inclined to feel sorry for him. I am more curious about what he's thinking about, to find out where his mind, left to itself, has taken him. I am less concerned about what drove him to that mountaintop than what he has discovered since being there. He has something important to tell me, even if its only to say I need to get some space to myself. That's good advice in itself.

The early Marseilles decks show the Hermit in similar fashion to the later Smith rendering: old man in a monk's robe, lantern, walking stick. The main difference is not in the image but in the titles. Earlier cards were labeled, "The Hunchback," "The Old Man," or "Time." Apparently his first appearances represented the iconic Father Time with an hourglass instead of a lantern. However, the associations with the exile, the hermit, can be drawn from the title "The Hunchback" as people with such infirmities were often ostracized. Old age is also associated with wisdom and understanding and the monk's garb is associated with the acetic, the Christian desert monks who retreated into the desert to avoid Roman persecution in the early days of the common era.

The Hermit could represent someone like Peter the Hermit
a monk living in the 11th century that is credited with the beginning of the First Crusade. He's a symbol of hope for the poor and downtrodden as it is said he rallied an army of paupers in order to secure pilgrimage routes and holy sites in Jerusalem.

Guibert of Nogent's account of Peter is the earliest and is likely the more accurate than the much later inflated accounts which prevailed from the time of William of Tyre until the mid-19^th century:

Therefore, while the princes, who felt the need of many expenses and great services from their attendants, made their preparations slowly and carefully; the common people who had little property, but were very numerous, joined a certain Peter the Hermit, and obeyed him as a master while these affairs were going on among us.
He was, if I am not mistaken, from the city of Amiens, and have we learned that he had lived as a hermit, dressed as a monk somewhere in Upper Gaul. After he had departed from there - I do not know with what intention - we saw him going through the cities and towns under a pretense of preaching. He was surrounded by so great throngs of people, he received such enormous gifts, his holiness was lauded so highly, that no one within my memory has been held in such honor.
He was very liberal in the distribution to the poor of what he had received. He restored prostitutes to their husbands with gifts. By his wonderful authority he restored everywhere peace and concord, in place of discord. For in whatever he did or said it seemed as if there was something divine, especially when the hairs were snatched from his mule for relics. We do not report this as true but for the common people who love novelties. He wore a wool shirt, and over it a mantle reaching to his ankles; his arms and feet were bare. He lived on wine and fish; he hardly ever, never, ate bread.

Source: Dana C. Munro, "Urban and the Crusaders", Translations and Reprints from the Original Sources of European History, Vol 1:2, (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania, 1895), 20
Though his fame may seem contrary to his status as a hermit, it really is not. It is within solitary walls that such inspiration and conviction is born. Whether one agrees with Peter's politics is not the point. Clearly he was not some social misfit but instead preferred his solitude for personal, spiritual reasons. The word hermit is from the Greek word for "desert" or "uninhabited." The term means "desert-dweller." The Christians didn't invent the concept of running off to the desert to escape civilization, but it was a good place to go when the early Christians were being persecuted. It had its basis, however, in the Old Testament story of Moses wandering the desert for forty years for spiritual enlightenment. In any case, early tarocchi players would have likely associated the Hermit in the deck to one like Peter, a veritable hero of the Catholic Church. They would not have made the negative associations with "loneliness" as we might today. He would have been seen more as visionary, wise mentor, and spiritual leader.

As with all of tarot, by questioning one's responses to the cards, they can serve as that wonderful soul mirror that can tell you so much about yourself. If you recoil from the Hermit or think him sad and lonely, it may serve as a sign that you need to examine why you feel that way about being alone. Does being alone equate to loneliness or solitude for you? Certainly the upside down meaning of the card would include the more negative, misanthropic and lonely aspect to one being alone or withdrawing from society, but upright the card holds no such meaning. More often he comes to represent that wiser part of oneself only accessed through solitude. He comes up when someone needs time to themselves to really consider what is true and valuable to them and when being embroiled in human drama is absolutely not the course you want to take.

He's a reminder, too, that there's nothing wrong with liking being alone. No, you're not weird. Ok, maybe wearing a loincloth and eating only honey and berries might be a little odd, but hey, whatever floats your boat. When you're alone, you can do as you please.

In sewing, to cut on the bias means to cut across the grain of the fabric. When you create bias tape, the pieces of fabric are arranged diagonally to form strips. Bias is slanted. We form these diagonal lines in our opinions, our biases, that draw lines that tend to be rather slanted. We each have our opinions and hopefully they are based on fact and experience and not being randomly pulled out of our asses or other people's asses. They make for good discussions, debates, conversations and even the rousing argument or two, but they do not benefit the tarot reader. One of the most challenging aspects of reading tarot for others is leaving one's biases entirely out of the exercise. That can be really difficult especially when you're not even aware of your own biases or if you tend to think your biases are universal truths.

Biases and preconceived notions have no business in a good tarot reading. I have what I think to be a pretty open mind and accepting outlook regarding other people and their choices and lifestyles. I learned a long time ago not to pass judgement. I try not to censure. However, my most embarrassing readings as a tarot reader have come when I have allowed my own preconceived notions and biases color what I see in the cards.

Working as a professional tarot reader on the online equivalent to a 900 line makes it easy to start making a lot of assumptions. After reading for so many who seem to all say the same thing such as, "He came on strong but he's not calling anymore, what happened?" and seeing the cards say, over and over, "He's just not that into you," it becomes way too easy to begin to give canned responses and presume this reading, this situation, is just like the twenty before. This is a surefire way to eventually make an ass of yourself. Assumptions tend to do that, don't they? I'm not saying there's no place in tarot reading for common sense and mundane wisdom. I don't think we can completely separate ourselves from our own life experience so much that we don't draw on it, nor should we. However, I've learned that I need to treat each and every reading as a new experience, a clean slate, and not to think any situation is "just like" one before.

The cards have often surprised me with their seemingly off-the-mark advice. They tell querants to do things I would never tell them to do. Though I've never seen them advise anything criminal, I have seen them advise pursuing relationships, careers, and other courses of actions that seem untenable. Still, I have to remember that with the very limited information I am given with which to do a reading, it really is quite presumptuous of me to draw conclusions about that person's life and circumstances. Sometimes it seems so ridiculous not to draw on common sense. I mean, hello! The guy is married with three kids and tells my querant he loves her, his wife "just doesn't understand him" and he plans on getting a divorce "soon" but it's just not the right time now...

Um. Please. Take your line of bullshit elsewhere, right?

As a tarot reader, though, you have to resist the urge to slap your querant upside the head saying, "Wake up and smell the lies!" As useful as that advice might be for your friend over Manhattans during Girls Nite Out, it really gets in the way of an effective tarot reading. If you approach any reading with your mind already made up then your mind has shut tight. No other alternatives can enter in. Each card will then be read on the bias, with slanted interpretations towards your foregone conclusions. Even if what you tell them is your standard Good Advice, and it very well may be very good advice, no harm done, right? Wrong. They aren't coming to you for that, they are coming to you for a Tarot Reading. If they wanted Good Advice, they'd ask Dear Abby. If you fall back on handing out prepackaged advice, you may as well toss the cards in your bag and buy them a Manhattan.

I'm not quibbling over the quality of the advice. You may be a very fine counselor with sage wisdom. More than likely, though, the querant already has enough people in their life that are more than willing to hand out unsolicited advice about her choice to hook up with a married man. She also has her own board of censure yelling at her in her own head. Her girlfriends a busy clucking their tongues and rolling their eyes. She doubts him, wonders if he's telling the truth. She doubts herself. Hence...the tarot reading. Querants want objectivity most of all and objectivity is what we need to do our best to give.

So you read the cards. Just read the cards. And they tell her to wait, to hold on, he's on the verge of a big decision and she should wait and see. The cards say he does indeed love her deeply. He needs more time.

WHAT?!?

Great. Now you feel guilty. You feel like this is very Bad Advice and sharing this would be giving her false hope. Now you, as a reader, feel compromised between what you believe to be the right thing to do and what the cards have instructed. I sympathize. There have been quite a few times I have looked blankly at the cards in disbelief and have thought there is no way in hell I can, in good conscience, tell this querant to wait for her lying, cheating scoundrel of a lover to come around. But then I do and what unfolds is often amazing. It never comes out the same way twice. If I am fortunate enough that the querant returns for a follow up reading or writes me to tell me how things worked out, it is usually for the best. Whether she uses that time to better understand her own feelings and decides to kick him to the curb, or whether that big decision he finally makes is to reconcile with his wife, or if they do indeed begin a legitimate relationship after he initiates divorce doesn't really matter. What matters is that the time the cards advised was crucially necessary for the situation to come to its natural conclusion.

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 vacillate 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.

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 following 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.