Tarot: To read or not to read?

I'm hesitating a little to write this post, mostly because it feels incredibly personal, and I think that the comparisons I make in it may feel too strong for some people.  Please bear with me as I share my real feelings and experiences. :)

Some of you may know this already - though many of my online readers probably don't - but I *HATE* doing tarot card readings.

I love tarot.  But I hate readings.

I talk about it all the time with people close to me, and anyone that gets in a general discussion with me about tarot.  I love the symbolism of tarot, the system of it, the way that the images on the cards can relate with so many thoughts, feelings and experiences in my life.  I love how in a tarot spread the pictures dance together to form thoughts and ideas and stories.  I sometimes say that for me tarot is like the most amazing and complex filing system: when a card comes up, I check the file in my brain assigned to it, and find I can access more information, ties, ideas and experiences from my memory because I've related it to symbols and images, than I can with just simple memorization of facts.

The other day I was talking to a friend who was explaining some spiritual lessons she was going through, and talked about how she's learned that "deadly sins" (read that term loosely, since "sin" isn't exactly anything I believe in) take residence in us and choke us, but we let them in, we allow them to do that.  I smiled at her and said, "I don't believe in sin, but what you're describing to me is the Devil card."  Then she talked about needing to find balance in an alchemical dance between openness and boundaries.  "Yeah, that's the Temperance card," I said.  Then she explained how when we free ourselves from habits that are hurtful or self-sabotaging it's like we rise from the dead.  Again, I smiled, "That's the Judgement card."  Just about everything in life, especially involving spirituality, matches one of the files in my mind that is labeled with a tarot card.  That's why I love tarot.

So why do I hate readings?  I've hated doing readings almost ever since I first became acquainted with tarot.  When I think back on it, I didn't mind doing readings for people when I was just practicing, or the online readings I did on the tarotforum.net page for strangers.  I don't mind getting involved in discussion and commentary about readings.  I just hate doing readings.  People always ask me why?  Why do I hate doing readings?  Over the years, I've given a lot of answers, but they generally boil down to these:

1. I feel like when I do readings people come with expectations, and I don't know how to meet them.  I just read what I see in the cards, and I have no idea how to make it meet any kind of expectation.  I've done a lot of different things to try and give people the right experience, and overall I've gotten golden reviews about my readings; so the expectations I'm worried about probably don't exist.  But my stress and tension over them do, and I hate feeling that way.
2. I don't love getting so personal and intimate with people, even if we're really only talking about their personal and intimate details.  When I read cards for someone, I usually get a lot of insight into their lives - from the cards themselves and from discussing the reading with them - and I find it taxing to be so intimate so quickly.  A lot of people tell me: you need to shield your energy, or make sure you aren't taking on people's problems, etc.  That's not what this intimacy issue is.  The issue is that most people I read for are complete strangers to me, and I feel uncomfortable being so rashly exposed to their lives and energies when I don't know them at all, and they don't really know me.  It feels intrusive, even if I'm an invited guest; kind of like staying at a complete stranger's home for the weekend.  Even if it's safe or fun or whatever, I don't like being immersed in other people's worlds.  I'd rather stay at a hotel, so to speak.
3. I usually don't feel sufficiently "in" to people's readings.  The best way I can describe it is with an analogy.  For me, each card reading is like going to a funeral.  I know that sounds drab, but bear with me.  Funerals are personal and emotional events, where people come into contact with things that are painful, traumatic or oddly liberating.  They are dealing with their emotions, and the entire event holds deep meaning.  But if I'm a stranger showing up at your grandma's funeral, I may be touched and cry or whatever, but I also may feel nothing.  And then I'm the weird person who's sitting comfortably in a room of emotional people feeling like a sociopath because I'm not moved at all.  Often, when I give readings, I find myself just reading away like I'm reading a newspaper or something, and my querents are very emotionally touched or moved; then I look up and I'm like, "Oh, yeah, I should wipe the casual smile off my face probably..."  It's not a big deal, but I feel awkward and uncomfortable in such situations.  I'm not actually very empathic, so when people are struggling I often can't match the vibe authentically.  And faking a match feels terribly fake, which fakeness I try to avoid in my life.  
4. When people want readings - and I know this because I feel the same way when I want a reading, and I do sometimes want readings - they want them RIGHTNOW.  Not tomorrow, not next week, they want a reading at that very minute.  That means that my appointment book was always empty, but my phone and email are constantly buzzing with people in emergencies, and I constantly have walk-ins asking if I can drop everything and read cards.  For most people that would probably be cool, no big deal.  For me, it felt like I was always on a leash that someone would be coming to yank.  

Ok, those are all mediocre excuses.  It would make sense that I would dislike doing card readings, but to hate doing them?  Make no mistake, I hate doing readings - even when I make money at them, even when its for close friends, even for fun at a party, I hate doing readings.

Well, today I realized why I hate them, and because of this realization, I've decided on an immediate cease-fire for all tarot reading practice, because it's actually extremely traumatic.

In order to understand my feelings about card readings, we have to take a trip down memory lane.  When I learned to do tarot, I was immediately very good at it.  I started giving readings to friends and family, and they encouraged me to go pro and start charging to do readings for strangers.  I didn't want to.  I felt uncomfortable with the idea.  In fact, often the friends and family that I read for pressed me for readings I didn't want to give - but I'd do the readings because I felt bad withholding answers they desperately wanted.

Soon, the pressure to read professionally and for strangers got hotter.  People started begging me for readings.  I felt bad saying no, even though I really didn't want to do them.  Friends of mine would refer their friends, and I did my best to say no, but would often give in and read for them even though I didn't want to.  At the time, I owned a retail spirituality shop with my sisters, and me reading cards was often a throw-in at events to get people to come.   I didn't love doing them, in fact, I still suffered from medium-grade social anxiety, and the one-on-one nature of a card reading made me feel dread and resentment; but I was good at it, so I felt bad depriving the world of my talents.

Sometimes a reading here and there was fun.  I liked reading at parties where people would just blow through for quickie 15-minute flops.  But for the most part, I would hope for a reading because I needed the money and simultaneously pray that no one bought one.

Then one day, I decided to be done with readings.  I had a kind of traumatic experience with this stalker lady and a crazy love triangle.  I needed a break, I decided, and put my cards away.

Over the next three years, I'd keep my tarot cards close and on-hand, but only because I liked them, I liked to look at them - I always turned down readings.  I would read for my sisters here and there, or close friends upon request, but I still resented doing it.  I never read for myself.  It usually never occurred to me to even try.

Keeping my cards handy would put me in tricky situations.  My sisters loved telling people what a talented card reader I was, because they were proud of me for having such an awesome skill; then those people would invariably ask/beg me for a reading.  "No," I'd say kindly.  Then, "NO."  Then, "SERIOUSLY, PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS."  Then with pressure from people's dire need or my siblings who were excited for me to show off, I'd give in and resentfully do a reading.

For three years I tried to avoid readings, and was pretty successful at avoiding them except maybe once every few months.  But every time it came up, every time someone asked for a reading, I felt dread and resentment.

Then I began working at another spirituality shop with friends who are some of the biggest fans of my readings.  They'd ask me for readings here and there, and I generally liked giving them readings because they were my friends.  These friends were so excited about my talent, and so proud of me, that they insisted I must begin doing readings again professionally.  I said no.  And they continued to press the issue.  I explained that I really hated doing readings, and they teased me.  Soon they started sending people to me for readings, whom I tried to send away or turn down, but ultimately I would have to read for them.  Then they'd send more.  I figured I should try to make the best of it, and since the little income would help, I'd embrace the idea of being a professional card reader.  So I did, I went for it full-force, and did pretty well for eight months.  Yay me.

Except every reading I did, I pretty much hated.  I know that sounds mean and harsh, probably especially for those of you who have gotten readings from me.  Please know that it isn't about you; I hated doing readings for my best friends. I don't usually hate the readings while I'm doing them, but I hate the lead-in to the readings and the post-reading chit-chat.  The intimacy of the readings, the urgency, the thick and heavy meaning behind them - all of those factors I dread, day in and day out.

So, I decided about a month ago that I needed a break from readings.  I told my friends to refer any old clients or walk-ins to a friend of mine who reads cards, and took down my signage and my business cards from anywhere they were displayed.

And you know what happened?  I had about 40 people over a two week period show up and ask for readings.  Arg!  Constantly having to turn people down, turn them away, say no, and no again, and no-seriously-NO!  And I read for some friends because I felt terrible turning them away in their time of need, and regretted it and become even more resentful of people asking for readings.

After discussing this issue at length with friends and family members, who are all baffled by why I hate readings so much - because everyone thinks my reasons are stupid (which in a way I agree with them), I finally said, "I just feel wrong about it.  I feel forced into being intimate with people.  I feel like from the moment I picked up a tarot deck, I've been pushed and prodded and forced to be in intimate personal settings with strangers that I don't feel comfortable in, and that because they're paying me and because I'm making them feel so happy, I should ignore my discomfort."

Guess what that sounds like, folks?

Prostitution.

Now, I'm not saying that card readings are the same physical thing as prostitution, but that's what doing card readings feels like to me.  Not because anything is wrong with readings (or prostitution per se), but because I have felt from the moment I started tarot, forced into intimate settings with people I don't know.  Forced to bear my soul, bear my talents, bear my feelings and personal relationship with tarot to people whenever they demand it.  And I hate it, but I need the money; or I hate it, but they need answers so bad; or I hate it, but I can't let my friends/family down.

Well, that's STUPID!

I realized that 95% of all readings I've done, I've done under duress.  And even when I was "taking it on" and trying to be all positive about reading cards, it didn't change that my entire being was begging me to stop doing it and I fought myself because I didn't want to let my pimps or Johns down.  LAME!

And so I've taken down all of the buy-a-reading links on my website.  Yay - I felt so happy and liberated the moment I did it.  And almost immediately I had the option of applying for an awesome grad school program - something new to dedicate my time and energy to.  Yay!  And because I have a friend who reads cards and is happy to take the referred clientelle, I just send people her way any time it comes up.  I am so happy to be done with readings.

But I'm not done with tarot.  I've got some teaching plans in the works right now, and I plan to pick up on my Spiritual Memoir posts again.  Tarot is my buddy that will stick around, and that makes me really happy.

So - there we go!  I'm wondering - do any of you have talents that you simply don't enjoy engaging in, but feel like you have to do them because you're so talented?  Or in what ways do you feel you prostitute your time, talents, energy and ideas out for money?

Spritual Memoir #10: The Winter of my Mormon Mission

For an explanation of this Spiritual Memoir
blog series, see THIS post.

Radiant Rider Waite deck

Tarot Card: The Hermit

Card number 9 of the Major Arcana of the tarot. 
(See pics in this post from various decks)

My Interpretations of the Card

"Sometimes the path is to stand outside in the cold and hold up our light, unwavering and unafraid..."

Aha!  Ask and ye shall receive ... I've been wanting to do a Major Arcana card, and mentioned this desire in my last Spiritual Memoir post, and I got it on my very next draw.  Hooray!  Plus, I love the Hermit card!  It's one that I can really relate to (because I'm really a bearded old man ... well, maybe on the inside... :) .

The Hermit has a traditional meaning of seeking truth by taking time in solitude and asking oneself the "hard" questions.  I love that meaning, but today, I'm seeing a different angle for him.  As I look at these Hermit cards I have posted in the blog, I get a sense of the silent drudgery that is sometimes the path for truth-seekers.  Sometimes it's magic and sparkles and dramatic senses of connection and power ... but often, as we are on the path of learning about ourselves and mastering our lives, we stand outside, in the cold, alone, holding up the lamps of truth that only gently light the way. And, the tarot teaches us, that is a relevant and powerful part of the experience.

I love the Hermit card from the Tarot of the Magical Forest (below).  I love the bear - I love the symbolism of the bear fattening up so it can go hibernate in its cave.  But I can't help but wonder why he isn't in his cave yet?  Has he not found it, or is he intentionally weathering the winter without turning his brain off during hibernation?  I get the impression he's deliberately stepping outside of normal bear-ness, and standing in his greater truth: "My mind will stay on, my eyes will stay open, and I will consciously weather this storm."  

Tarot of the Magical Forest deck

In general, in the tarot, nine cards represent solitary ventures, and being with oneself.  Both the nine of cups and the nine of pentacles show individual, independent success; the nines of swords and wands depict individual torment.  True to form, the Hermit as card #9 of the Major Arcana represents the Mother of individual quests: that of facing the dark, cold night in solitude, but with the light of truth ever flickering in hope and subtle warmth.

Spiritual Memoir: The Hermit
As I've stated in previous posts, like THIS one, I never wanted to serve a "mission" for the LDS (Mormon) Church, but did, because I didn't know what else to do with my life.  This memoir will tell you a little about the invaluable experience I had during those challenging 18 months, and how feeling totally isolated and alone in a spiritual and emotional winterland gave me a powerful Hermit experience.

To start, I want to make it totally clear that my experience as a missionary was completely atypical!  Almost every other person I've talked to that served missions scratch their head in amazement at how unusual my experience was from the start.  If you don't know what a Mormon missionary is, THIS LINK will give you a quick rundown.  I went to Santiago, Chile for my mission.  Note, that as a missionary, I spent 18 months with every second of every day dictated to me of how I could dress, who I could and could not talk to, what I could read or listen to, when to wake up and go to bed, etc.  

For some reason, I had the understanding that on my mission, I would basically be hanging out with non-participatory members of the Church only, working to entice them to engage back into a "Mormon" lifestyle.  I had no idea that I was expected to approach strangers on the street and ask them if I could come into their home and teach them my religion.  (I thought that girls didn't "proselytize").  Upon entering the Missionary Training Center, both of my teachers were off of work - one was on her honeymoon, and the other injured his knee.  Since I already spoke Spanish, I was basically there just to learn "how to be a missionary", but without teachers, my little class just sat around and drew Ninja Turtles on the white board for three weeks.  

When I arrived in Chile, I was assigned a Uruguayan companion (whom I had to spend 24/7 with and whose side I could not leave under any circumstances) who did not speak any English, and whose culture was very different from mine.  She told me the first day that we were going to walk up to some guy on the street, engage him in conversation, and ask if he we could come to his house and teach him our religion - and that it was my turn to talk, I had to do the whole thing with her standing silently by my side.  

"No," I said resolutely.  "Absolutely not - I'm an introvert, I don't walk up to random people and talk to them." 

She laughed.  "You'll be doing it every day for the next 18 months.  We have to make 20 street contacts a day between us," she replied.  

"Um, no," I responded.  After a few days of being told by the entire missionary system that my refusal to make street contacts was totally unacceptable (especially in the eyes of God), I prayed for help and started making street contacts.  Each and every time I made one, a little part inside of me died.

Crystal Visions Tarot

Enter my desperate, lonely journey into the cold wilderness of the Hermit.  

After six weeks I was moved to a different part of town, and had a new companion.  To this day we are the best of friends.  It helped to have my constant companion be someone who understood my background and culture.  We still obeyed all of the rules and took our work seriously, and it was heaven to be in the presence of such an awesome person (I LOVE YOU KATIE), and I prayed and prayed and fasted and worked with faith to have some type of understanding of why I hated everything about being a missionary (they say that God will open your heart and give you peace if you do stuff like this).  Nothing happened, and when Katie and I were separated, a bigger chunk of me died inside.

For a year of my mission, I pushed and tried and "let go" and obeyed, obeyed, obeyed.  Every time we invited a person to be baptized a member of the Church and they said no, I exhaled a sigh of relief - I felt like the church just complicated the already challenging lives of the good people we taught.  For a year I wandered in the dark cold wilderness of the Hermit, completely alone, and without any light (meaning: I didn't have the little lamp yet).  In fact, it felt like all others had gone into a safe cave to hibernate, and I couldn't sleep, and found myself completely alone and awake in the dark cave.  After a year, I was assigned to train a new missionary as my companion, a sweet gal from Peru.  In this case, I was supposed to be the strong one, insisting she make the street contacts.  She was afraid to, totally understandably.  But with the responsibility of pushing her falling on my soldiers, I had an emotional breakdown.  I began to have extreme social anxiety, and every day would just wander the streets with her in silence, trying to hold in my tears.  We'd go home for lunch, and I'd tell her I was going to pray in the bedroom, and just bury my face on my bed and sob for as long as I could get away with.

I talked to the Mission authorities, and they said, "Pray more, testify more, have more faith!"  So I did.  And nothing happened.  I never entered peaceful hibernation like the others, I never felt myself safe in the hands of God.  I was aware of my hunger and the painful loneliness of sitting in the dark cave.

Then, one day, while I was studying the scriptural canon of the church, I was praying for anything from God, any word of help/advice, and I flipped open my scriptures, pointed at a random verse and read the LDS scripture of Doctrine and Covenants 124:49.  It reads:

"Verily, verily, I say unto you, that when I give a commandment to any of the sons of men to do a work unto my name, and those sons of men go with all their might and with all they have to perform that work, and cease not their diligence, and their enemies come upon them and hinder them from performing that work, behold, it behooveth me to require that work no more at the hands of those sons of men, but to accept of their offerings."

A bell went off in my head, and I felt the warm loving presence of God in my life.  It was like a warm, glowing lantern appeared in the cave for me.  It couldn't be!  Could my answer come in the form of a light (and not hibernation)?  What was I thinking!?!?  So I picked up a Church magazine that had a General Conference talk (or messages from Church leadership) on missionary work.  I was going to read the talk to pep myself up.  I flipped it open, and the first thing my eyes landed on was a sentence by Gordon B. Hinckley, then President of the Church that said:

"...I wish to say that the First Presidency and the Council of the Twelve are united in saying to our young sisters that they are not under obligation to go on missions...."

I distinctly remember the quote being from a recent conference talk, but as I am researching it for this blog post, it looks like the quote is from 1997 (I was in Chile in 2004-2006).  So I don't know what that's all about.  But this is definitely the quote, because it goes on:

"We do not ask the young women to consider a mission as an essential part of their life's program. Over a period of many years, we have held the age level higher for them in an effort to keep the number going relatively small. Again to the sisters I say that you will be as highly respected, you will be considered as being as much in the line of duty, your efforts will be as acceptable to the Lord and to the Church whether you go on a mission or do not go on a mission." 

--"Some Thoughts on Temples, Retention of Converts, and Missionary Service"
Gordon B. Hinckley, 1997 October General Conference, full article HERE

Maybe what I read was a different talk that said the same thing - I'm surprised this isn't matching up like I thought it would (time-wise).  Anyway...  The next day I was allowed to check my email for messages from my family, and my mom, who is SUPER-DE-DUPER Mormon and pro-mission had written me a message along the lines of, "Honey, I'm worried that you are beginning to destabilize.  I want you to know if that if you decide to come home from your mission early, I'm totally ok with it - I want you to be happy and healthy, and it seems like you're deteriorating into a dangerous space."

Ok, three witnesses.  Three separate cases of me getting the message to GO HOME.  In the Scriptures it says messages from God come from the mouth of two or three witnesses - my prayers had been answered!  I went to my Mission President with the story.  This amazing man listened to my story and replied, "I can't argue with spiritual confirmations like that - let's get this ball rolling for you."  Yes!  Finally!  I felt like I'd taken up the lantern, and left the cave, and was going to brave the cold winter winds with my little light, and find my way to springtime and warmth.

Soon after, he contacted me and said protocol requires I see the mission psychologist.  

Dr. Hurst asked on our first meeting, "What is the problem?"  

"I think I'm not supposed to be here.  I haven't felt the 'spirit of God' since I got here, I hate everything about it - I think it's a big mistake.  I've been 100% obedient and pray every day asking for emotional/spiritual support ... and I feel worse and worse, like a sense of foreboding.  So I work harder, testify more, read more, sacrifice more, and I feel darker and deader inside.  Then, I got these answers that told me to go home.  I think I need to go home."

He didn't know how to respond to that, so he referred me to his boss.

I did telephone conferences with the head missionary psychologist in Salt Lake City, who informed me that I most likely needed to repent of a sexual sin that I was still holding on to.  That was hilarious to me, because I had my first kiss when I was 18, and after a six-month relationship where I lived in Ohio and he lived in Utah the whole time, and absolutely no sexual anything in our relationship, I had never even dated anyone again.  "You're barking up the wrong tree," I told the guy.  "I'm purer than Mother Mary."

My whole life I've had a tendency towards depression (never at that point medicated), but when I took a psychological profile test thing, I tested only 4% for depression - I didn't feel depressed so that made sense.  They put me on anti-depressants anyway though, because it would probably fix whatever it was inside my soul telling me to GET.OUT.  Um ... ?!?!?!

I was still in the wintery wilderness, I was still alone in my mind 99% of the time, cold and desperate and sad ... but I had my lantern.  And the lantern of God's gentle reassurance and love still glowed.  Nothing was putting it out.

All of this took about two months, and I finally started refusing to go out into the streets anymore.  They put me with several different companions, ranging from a senior couple (whom I LOVED) and another young girl missionary like myself who had health problems and couldn't proselytize for that reason (whom I LOVED).  But as time wore on, there was pressure from somewhere (Salt Lake, the Area Presidency?  I don't know from where) to get me back on the streets.

Finally, I told my Mission President that I was going home.  Period.  He told me that he'd arrange it, but as part of protocol, I need to meet with the Area Presidency for an "exit interview."

I met with Elder Carl Pratt.  I told him the same story, glowing in my delight at getting an answer, and feeling peaceful about God finally answering my prayers in a most unexpected way.  Everything was going to be ok - it was all happening for a reason!

Elder Pratt looked at me and said, "I don't know who you think you are, but this story is approaching blasphemy.  A Prophet of God called you to serve 18 months, to proselytize for 18 months.  Get.back.out.on.the.streets."

I was stunned.  "I can't!" I whispered with tears welling up in my eyes.  "I ... I can't!"

"You can and you will.  Stop this nonsense."

"But ... what about my spiritual confirmations?  What about everything I've been feeling and these physical manifestations of God's voice coming to me, through the scriptures and the voice of the Prophet's talk and my mom...?"

He cut me off.  "True spiritual revelation never contradicts what your Priesthood leaders tell you.  I am your Priesthood leader and I say get back out on the streets and do your work.  If you go home now, it will be a dishonorable release.  There is no back door here.  Get back out on the streets."  He excused me from the meeting.

I rushed back to my Mission President and told him everything.  The poor guy was stuck between a rock and a hard place.  He couldn't contradict his superior in the Church, but he also knew he couldn't put me back out on the streets.

I stood strong, in the harsh cold weather, holding fast to my lantern.  I knew what I knew.  And all that was happening was that the cold winds and icy snow were revealing themselves to me as cold and heartless and icy, as compared to the warmth and light of my lantern.

A few days later, my Mission President told me there was an opening in a PR missionary position at Chile's Church Headquarters, and because of my education in marketing he might be able to get me transferred over to the position.  He fought hard for me, and finally Elder Pratt said if I hit all of my numbers for street contacts and lessons being taught for a week - if I went back out on the streets for a week, he'd let me transfer over.  My sweet companion took charge and did all of the work for a week to make sure we hit our numbers.  I was transferred, and worked the last 4 months of my mission in a position that I enjoyed (though I did see a lot of the ugly underbelly of a bureaucratic, man-led religious institution).

In January 2006, I returned home honorably from my mission.  I stayed active in the Church for another six months, and even worked at Church World Headquarters in Utah for a few months, trying to stay loyal to and optimistic about the institution.  But when I realized that spring was popping up in the world around me, and this institution was holding me in a cold, brutal winter, I followed my inner lantern's guidance to the warmth of personal connection to the Divine.

For a few years, I was really bitter about my mission.  Today, I still see how it was a cold and cruel period in my life, but that it was the perfect opportunity for me to see the contrast between the cold silence of institutionalized spirituality and the warm lantern of a personal connection with Divine Source.  It opened my eyes and experience in a way that nothing else ever could.  I, standing completely alone, completely vulnerable, found and held my own light.

Spiritual Memoir #9: Drifting Away to New Worlds

For an explanation of this Spiritual Memoir

blog series, see THIS post.

Radiant Rider Waite deck

Tarot Card: Four of Swords

(See pics in this post from various decks)

My Interpretations of the Card

"Rest in the stillness of the Divine, by silencing thoughts and words."

Isn't tarot so weird?  Last time I wrote on the five, six and seven of swords, and today I pull the immediately preceding card: the four of swords.  I have to admit, I'm kinda wishing I could get another Major Arcana card ... but they just aren't coming.  Oh well.  This is a really good card, and I have a good memoir to go with it!  :)

I feel like the four of swords is easily misunderstood.  I find it to be by far the most peaceful swords card, and my first gut instinct every time I see it is: rest.  Time to rest.  

In the Rider Waite symbolism there is a golden coffin in a church or castle (as evidenced by the stained-glass window).  The coffin has a statue on it representing the figure inside - a soldier.  There is also the symbol of a sword on the side of the coffin, and three swords on the wall.  I imagine this is the funeral of a great warrior, who won three battles (swords on the wall), and surrendered nobly in the forth battle (sword on the coffin).

Of course, the card doesn't symbolize death or "the end", because it's only card four - six more swords cards follow it.  So why does it look like death?

Sun and Moon Tarot

My answer is that it isn't showing death, but the peace that comes from surrender, and that winning with swords (or words and thoughts) is not nearly as noble as laying them down, and shielding ourselves from battle ... say, by covering ourselves in a sarcophagus.  I like to imagine that this soldier is going to be buried with the last sword - buried with a single thought, a single word.  Buried not in total silence, but in pure focus, pure commitment, to the solitary sword he values most - that solitary thought.

Look at the gorgeous Sun and Moon Tarot's depiction - ah, yea!  Blue skies, open possibilities, and instead of the swords being on top of the character in the picture, she's resting on top of them.  This makes me think of "sleeping on it", or not arguing or thinking about a problem without a night to sleep and process the situation subconsciously.  I also like this picture, because it makes me think of yoga. 

Spiritual Memoir: Four of Swords

Around 2008 or 2009, I was invited to attend a discussion with "The Avarians".  I had no idea what that meant, except that my friend Holly Semanoff and her husband, Mike Semanoff, were going to talk about some spiritual experience they had with connecting to higher beings - to angels or ascended spirits.  I went with my sisters to the discussion event.

It turns out, Holly and Mike actually channel the words of a group of ascended beings, who call themselves the Avarians.  When you go to an Avarians event, you sit with a group of people, with Holly facing you, and she and Mike take a few deep breaths and focus/meditate, and then Holly speaks the words of the Avarians, in their delightfully accented voice.  If you'd like to learn more about them (and I recommend you do!), you can see their website here: http://www.theavarians.com/.  

So I'm at this event, and Holly and Mike do their thing, and Holly starts talking for the Avarians, and they have all kinds of messages of love and hope and peacefulness, and it's cool.  Then, they say, "We want to share a tool with you - a meditation."  As directed, the whole room closes their eyes and focuses on their breathing, and so on.  Throughout the whole meditation, I feel only half-focused, because I wasn't really listening to what they were saying, or thinking about anything else.  I think I was just really tired.  Eventually I started to doze off.  After a few minutes, I heard the Avarians (through the voice of Holly), say something like "And now, feel your consciousness come back to this room...," and they guided us through slowly waking up, blah blah blah.  I, personally just pepped right up, thinking, "Woops, that was a waste of my time, I just dozed off."  Then after everyone else was back, the Avarians said some more stuff.

I don't know exactly when I realized it, but it was while I was still at the Avarians session, I know for sure ... I suddenly, somehow, had a realization that I had not dozed off or fallen asleep.  I had, suddenly, a stream of memories of thoughts I'd experienced during the meditation.  I remembered, suddenly, that I had been "thinking" about being swaddled or wrapped up in a warm blanket, while in a dark room or cave with indigo/black walls, and cradled in the arms of someone.  Or someones.  Even now, I can see/feel it in my mind.  The person(s) holding me was lighter blue in color, and brighter than the bluish-purple-black walls, but not bright like a light.  Just lighter, like normal light.  I had felt warm and comforted and relaxed...

So... what the fuck?  What the hell is that?  I have no memory of actually thinking that, but a "memory of having thought about it..."  - like, what does that even mean?!?!  I don't know.  I just don't remember thinking it, I don't remember "being" somewhere else, I don't remember seeing anything like it ever before in my life (like in a movie or something).  But it was clearly in my memory - fresh.  It felt very real, very personal, and actually very subtle.  Maybe it was imagination ... but no, it was a memory.  I can tell the difference between imagination and memory in my mind.

All of this "remembering" happened while I was still sitting and listening to the Avarians/Holly.  As I tried to figure out what the hell was going on, I had a clear, confident knowing in my mind: I just had an out-of-body experience.  My consciousness experienced something that my body didn't, and I haven't experienced it in this life before, so I didn't know what to call it.  It wasn't a thought and it wasn't a physical experience.  The best label I have for it, "memory" is nice, but not accurate.  My consciousness left my body.  

Whoa.

I know all of this happened still during the event, because at the end of the event, Holly said she had some CDs that explain more about what the Avarians are, and a special meditation essential oil blend.  I was so stunned by that weird "blacking-out-just-kidding-that-was-superconsciousness" experience that I bought one of everything, went home listened to everything religiously, did all of the meditations on the CDs every day for a few weeks ... and never was able to duplicate the experience.  I have attended over a dozen Avarians events since then, and never experienced anything remotely like that again.

Until about a month ago.

April 1, 2012, the same Holly invited me to take her Conscious Breathing for Enlightenment class, which is a mix of her years and years of experience with yoga, and the input and recommendations of the Avarians.  I was really excited about the class - and even cut down my smoking tremendously to prepare for it (didn't quit though...ha ha!).  At the end of the class, we did a 30-minute Chakra Dhyana meditation.  All during the meditation, I remember being conscious, hearing everything, participating in all of the chants and breathing, etc.  I remember when we were at the heart chakra, Holly came up and was touching my back, and I'm pretty sure she was sending me Reiki or something similar.  It felt easier to breath all of a sudden, and my muscles felt less tired (I have terrible posture, so sitting up straight makes my back muscles burn pretty quickly).

I remember the meditation ending.  And I remember being disappointed that nothing "big" happened (like, you know, an explosion of Kundalini or a visitation from God).  Then as other people were talking about their experiences and the electricity they felt through their bodies (which I did not feel), I experienced a memory.  A memory of being back in a purple-blue-black cave room during the meditation.  I saw random flashes of thoughts and experiences.  None of it made sense.  A person, a war, voices, fire ... just little muddled flashes in the indigo cave.  It was like a memory within a memory - I had a memory of being in this cave place and flipping through memories in my mind - memories that are totally foreign to me and my life.

What does all of this mean?  I have no idea!  Ha ha!  I have two guesses, that may be simultaneously right or individually right, or dead wrong:

1. I'm just experiencing different levels of consciousness.  The "indigo cave", actually feels like it could be inside my mind, and indigo is the color of the third-eye chakra, so maybe in my mind I've experience some type of intuitive consciousness or something.
2. I actually think it's possible I may be accessing past life memories or experiences.  Yes, I believe in reincarnation, and I believe in being able to tap into consciousness of the "big picture" and not just this life's experiences.

One thing I know for sure though, I didn't imagine it.  And I don't know how to replicate it, except possibly through better, more intense meditation exercises.  (Read: Holly Sue ... get ... off ... ass ... and ... start ... meditating ... more ... regularly).  I am excited for my meditation retreat next month - maybe I'll get a better idea of what's going on here!  Oh, and next week, I'm getting a first Reiki attunement, and maybe that will help bust down any grime in my energetic system that blocks me from accessing this on my own.

Arcus Arcanum Tarot

Ok, now tying it back to the four of swords - I like the card in the Arcus Arcanum tarot.  Here, the man sits and thinks, and the sentinels of his mind step aside, so that he has access to the wisdom of a High Priestess.  His thoughts part, and he accesses a divine source of knowing, which supersedes his logical thinking.  Beautiful imagery!

And, going back to the Rider Waite imagery, when I entered these trance-like meditative states, it was like I went into the sarcophagus - isolated from the myriad thoughts bouncing off the walls, and sat with one thought, one intention, one purpose.  I sat in silence, and was inside my mind - the home of thoughts - but out of range of the thoughts themselves.  And I found peace, connection, knowingness.  But before all of that came the stillness.

A final thought ...  I think a lot about how Gandhi did one full day a week of silence.  

"In the attitude of silence the soul finds the path in a clearer light, and what is elusive and deceptive resolves itself into crystal clearness."

-Mohandas "Mahatma" Gandhi

Caroline Myss talks in her book Entering the Castle about silence (p.39): 

"This quality of silence allows you to engage in discernment.  You carry this silence within you, even when you are with others.  It allows you to hold your center amid the chaos in life; it keeps you clear so that you do not do or say things you will regret or make decisions out of fear.  Silence is a learned practice that requires far more than just not talking..."

I think of this four of swords card as the card of internal silence.  Quiet and resting on the outside too, but also parting the swords in our minds, sealing the sarcophagus around us, and experiencing that powerful, beautiful silence that has a new, completely different experience to show us.  I'll let you know when my new experiences start making a little more sense... :)

Just a little tarot fun...

I had to jump on the meme bandwagon ... voila!

Spiritual Memoir #8: From Silent to Raging Bitch

For an explanation of this Spiritual Memoir
blog series, see THIS post.

Tarot Cards: Five, Six and Seven of Swords

(See pics in this post from various decks)

My Interpretations of the Cards

"Your thoughts and words can easily flip-flop you between victim and abuser."

Tonight I drew my first swords card of this memoir blog series, the six of swords.  I started to write a blog post about it, but kept having a feeling that this card is best understood (and best relates to my life) when seen in context with the card that comes before it, the five of swords, and the seven which comes after.  So we're going to try a three-card series for a change.  :)

Swords are the suit that represent the element of air, and are generally tied to logic and thinking - brainy stuff.  I also have found swords to commonly represent words and communication.  In the tarot, the numbers five through seven generally seem to represent to me a movement from chaos/victimization (five), making a choice for change/sharing (six), to a small victory/new perspective (seven).  With the swords suit, this pattern plays out, but has what I feel is a tricky and even dark twist to it.  Because it starts at being victimized, and ends with victimizing others.

Radiant Rider Waite Deck

Let's start with Rider Waite imagery.  

• First, in the five of swords, there's a guy who's been playing at swords with his friends, but they drop their swords and walk away, while he happily picks up what they left behind, laughing at them behind their backs.  For today's post, this card feels like someone bullying us, and we walk away hurt while they laugh at us.  
• Then, in the six of swords, a huddled woman and child take a journey across a river with their swords before them - they decide to leave the bully and get away.  
• But in the seven of swords, the main character of the card is now stealing and snatching swords away from others - in effect doing the same thing as the bully in the five cards, but doing it behind people's backs.

NOTE: These cards have TONS of different possibilities for meanings, and today I'm just pointing out one possibility, so bear with me.  :)

Ok, so the sequence goes like this: get overtly bullied, run away and get some space, then become a back-stabbing bully.  Bah!

With swords representing thoughts and words, I see the sequence as: get in an argument and lose, go home and think about it and come up with an *awesome* revenge, then implement the revenge in a passive-aggressive way that makes the initial bully feel humiliated and experience loss.  I think we've all done this, haven't we?

Let's look at another deck.  Sorry if these images are kinda blurry ... I took them with my phone in a semi-darkened room.

Dragon's Tarot

Ok, Dragon's tarot: 

• Five of swords, people are driven from their castle because the dragon has burned them out and taken over
• Six of swords, they take a journey overseas with the dragon at their back, praying for a new start
• Seven of swords, new dragon attacks an individual dude.  

Bah!  That's not a good story!  See what I mean by looking at these cards as a sequence?  In none of these cards do they actually group together and fight the dragon, even though they've got swords - they're just running and running away.  How often do we not face a situation, believing we're too weak or dumb, and just think we if effectively hide from/avoid it will go away?!?

Swords, in general, are probably the most feared suit in the tarot, because pretty much every card has a cool sharpness to it.  Not much warm fuzzy going on with the swords.  I think this is important to think about.  Our thoughts are powerful tools, and one of the defining characteristics of humanity: we think.  But the tarot seems to carry a warning that thoughts can be powerfully destructive.  Words, of course, carry similar power.  Think of someone telling you a warming inspirational story - warms your heart for a few hours right?  Now, think of someone telling you about the ghost that's been haunting their house and how it bangs things around and the cat screeches and hisses all night - chills you for the rest of your life, right?  The cool blade of thoughts and words seem to be sharper than their warming and comforting side.  We must learn to wield them intelligently, masterfully, and always with a good dose of reality (pentacles) and love/connectedness (cups).  Swords, representing air, feed the fire of passion (wands), yay!, - but be conscious that the fire with too much air can blaze out of control.

Let me make sure I'm making my point here - fear is not the intended emotion, but consciousness, mastery and wisdom.  Swords can take over, and wands can take over.  The wise soul tempers and contains their thoughts and passions with both emotional and temporal connection.  Let's get to my story...

Spiritual Memoir: Five, Six & Seven of Swords

Three cards make for a long description and a long story.  I'll do my best to keep this short and readable!  

My first real romantic relationship happened when I was 24.  I met a great, handsome guy, and within a few weeks we moved in together.  The relationship lasted for two years.  In the end, I broke up with him, because while the relationship was ok and we were really best friends, it seemed like we lacked in similar passions and goals.  As we had begun discussing marriage, I realized I wanted to have a long-term committed relationship in my life with someone who had goals more similar to mine.

One of the biggest problems with that relationship though, looking back, was that I was a terrible communicator.  For most of my life leading up to that point, and through that relationship, I'd gotten away with passive-aggressive communication (i.e.: sending messages through my behavior, instead of speaking up).  Because my boyfriend was a gentle person, I was afraid to hurt his feelings, so I just bottled up my emotions.  Incidentally, I didn't really ever explode at him (as far as I remember), but I did feel resentful and angry, and was a master at snide remarks and heavy sighs.

In this relationship, I was very seven of swords.  I kept my words and thoughts to myself, and eventually snuck away with them in the night.

When we broke up, I didn't change my ideas or thoughts about life or the relationship; I took them with me.  Packed up my swords and all of the resentment, anger and guilt that they'd created within me, and rode my boat to the other side of the river.  Six of swords.

Enter, about a year later, a new relationship.  In this one, I made sure to start it off with open communication - but communication that still carried the anger and resentment from before.  I was really, really verbally mean to this guy!  Part of what encouraged me, though, was that he seemed so totally unaffected by it.  I'd text him that he was a total dipshit, and he'd not respond but show up for our date that night like nothing had happened.  Then I'd turn up the volume and get meaner and angrier, and he'd shrug his shoulders and kiss me.  I became an abuser, a bully, and he was so totally indifferent to it, that it made me CRAZY.  He was dating another girl at the time ... and soon dumped me and married her.  In this relationship, I was five of swords.

So my experience was chronologically in reverse order, but the point is this: In these relationships, I experienced two sides of the same coin - terrible communication, superior thinking, anger and resentment.  In the middle was me riding my boat back and forth between the two extremes, and taking along the same tools (swords) that had previously failed me! 

I've looked back at these two relationships and seen how polar opposite they were, and yet how totally similar they were, and realized that in both of them I was not the person I want to be.  I let my thoughts and words (or lack thereof) create a cold, cruel sharpness between me and my lovers that made it impossible for good, authentic connection to happen.  I wonder sometimes if I regret it ... but upon close inspection, I don't, and am grateful in both cases that I had an opportunity to see scary sides of myself.  I pray, of course, that I didn't scar the guys too much.  :X

Next, I looked at other relationships in my life, and saw how I've done the same thing, over and over.  I hardly talked to my dad for 25 years, then came into his life and raged at him with my sharp thinking and cruel words in our business.  Basically the same thing with my mom, where I stayed quiet and passive-aggressively irritated until one day blowing up at her and calling it "open communication" ... but that was rage-filled (see THIS post for the story!).  I would take jobs and silently curse my managers, until I blew up and walked out because I thought they were all idiots... and on and on...

And the biggest, most revealing experience was when I saw that it was the same story with God.  I was either painfully demure and resentfully sacrificial, or tirading at him with anger and scorn.  I expected to be on my own for my needs (seven of swords), or required to give up everything (five of swords), and would resentfully take the boat ride back and forth between these things, my same-thinking swords riding in my boat with me.  One day, a few months back, I realize that I actually was terrified of and hated God, even though I'd lived my life so "piously".  It freaked me out, so I just got extra angry.  Bah!

So what's the solution to this nuttiness?

A Course in Miracles talks about right-mindedness, as opposed to wrong-mindedness, and how our entire experience depends on the swords in the boat.  Really, the five and seven of swords (victim/bully) syndrome are two sides of the same coin, and the key to overcoming them is in-between them: the six of swords.  What is happening in that boat that prevents me from getting to safer shores?  Answer: the swords that block my view of the destination.  In the case of the Dragon Tarot, it's that even on the boat I'm still reacting to the dragon in the air, who just drives me to another dragon.  

Back to the Course: thoughts don't go away, so it's not a matter of "rooting them out".  Swords don't go away, so it's not a matter throwing them off the boat - they don't go away!  It's about choosing how our thoughts (and words) will work for us, how they will create for us.

"Both miracles and fear come from thoughts."

- A Course in Miracles, Chapter 2, Section VII, pgph3.1

So how do I stop fear and choose miracles?  By deciding where on the boat I place my thoughts: in front of me, leading me; or behind me, following me.

As I said about those relationships in my life - I wasn't me.  My thoughts and words were anger, were superiority, were resentment - none of those things are ME!  (And they aren't YOU, by the way, either!)  The swords blocked my view, blocked me,  instead of me leading them, and using them as my tools.  

So here's how we overcome the interminably destructive flip-flip of cruel thinking and poor communication:

"You are much too tolerant of mind wandering, and are passively condoning your mind's miscreations.  The particular result does not matter, but the fundamental error does.  The correction is always the same.  Before you choose to do (say) anything, ask me (God) if your choice is in accord with mine.  If you are sure that it is, there will be no fear."

-A Course in Miracles, Chapter 2, Section VI, pgph4.6-10

Let me spell this out in my words:

1. We condone our anger, resentment, and passive-aggressive behavior by passively letting it take over our lives.  No choice is still a choice, and these attitudes will take over if left unchecked.
2. The result doesn't matter - whether you become victim (five of swords) or bully (seven of swords) doesn't matter.  Those are two sides of the same coin.
3. The fundamental error is what matters.  What's the fundamental error?  Putting your swords in front of you.  Leaving your thoughts unchecked.
4. What's the solution: um, checking your thoughts.  Pausing, taking the time to move the sharp swords of harsh words and thoughts behind you, and choosing your destination without them influencing your perspective.
5. Don't know how to do that?  Pause, and ask God how to put those swords behind you. 

I like that phrase, let me say it again: Choose your destination without unchecked thoughts and words influencing your perspective.  

In practice: "How am I going to respond to my boyfriend not meeting my expectations?"  Answer: What's the destination with this relationship?  Take the reactive thoughts and words out of it and ask: where do I want this to end?  Mutual respect?  Mutual understanding of and commitment to roles?  Yeah, that sounds good.  Now that I've chosen my destination, how do I use my thoughts and words to build mutual respect?  "Hey, Cute Boy, I know you love and care about me, some I'm going to let you know something that's on my mind..."

I think that any time we find ourselves in a five or seven of swords position, we want to hop in that boat, take some time and space, and take careful note of where we've placed the swords. Just jump out of the conversation, jump out of your train of thought and ask: am I in charge here, or have these thoughts and words taken over me?  I like this thought-exercise the Course recommends for stepping back into right-minded thinking - by making an internal...

"...statement of an open mind, not certain yet, but willing to be shown: 'Perhaps there is another way to look at this.  What can I lose by asking?'"

-A Course in Miracles, Chapter 30, Section I, pgph12.2-4 

"What if there's another way to see this?" we can ask ourselves.  "What if there's another place for these swords on my boat?"  "What can it hurt to consider?"

At the moment, I don't have huge success stories of overcoming this like I do in other posts.  Just lots of little ones.  Every few days it seems I start to stew with poor communication (and then feel guilty about it) and it seems that more and more I can cut off the thinking, set my destination, and the right words and ideas come to mind, and things work out beautifully.  I'm beginning to feel a shift of power in my life.  It's hard, and takes practice, but I'm working on it.  :)

Goddess Tarot

A final collection of cards from the Goddess Tarot to look at.  

• Victim - five of swords, kind of hard to see but the dude outside the window just cut her hair off
• Change of direction - six of swords
• Bully - seven of swords, this card shows the vanity of the Goddess Blodewedd of Wales and how she consumes men's lust then leaves them dead behind her on the ground.

How Tarot Works: A Musical Analogy

Instead of doing a spiritual memoir tonight, I wanted to write a blog documenting how tarot works.  If you want to know how I got started into tarot, you can see THIS post.

I get asked this question a lot: how does it work?  How do the right cards come up to match my situation/feelings?

The basic premise of tarot lies in the Law of Attraction.  For any of you who have studied the teachings of Abraham-Hicks, or seen the movie The Secret, you'll have an idea of what I mean.  For those who haven't, here's a quick intro to the idea...

The Law of Attraction states that "like attracts like."  So, for example, if I'm a person who is grouchy and complains a lot, I will spend most of my time around other grouchy, complaining people, because they will be attracted to me and my space; if I see myself as a victim in life, I will continually attract situations where I feel powerless and helpless; if I see myself as a warrior, I will attract battles; and so on.  I like to think of it as the world outside of me being an echo of what's inside of me, and an echo cannot be anything more than a reflection of the sound vibration sent out from the original source...

Here's my best description of it.  Think of a symphony orchestra.  There's the brass (trumpets, trombones, french horns, cornets, etc); there are the strings (violins, cellos, basses, etc); wind instruments (clarinets, oboes, flutes, etc); percussion (drums, chimes, bells, etc); and the conductor who guides each of these elements in working together to create a specific song.  And let's say this orchestra plays, and creates an echo.  If all of the instruments are off-key, they'll produce a wretched sound and echo.  If all of your flutists go on strike, there will be a clear emptiness to the sound and echo.  The whole orchestra is required to create to most fulfilling sound experience, and in turn, the most holistic echo.

Life is about learning how to use each member of the orchestra in the infinite ways that produce complex, vibrant, fulfilling sound: through loud triumphant marches, gentle warming lullabies, tense melodramatic harmonies, and innocent purifying melodies.  When we have full acceptance of both the power of silence and the majesty of blaring sound, plus the full scale of music that can be achieved in between these extremes, we become masters of music ... or masters of our lives as it were.

A deck of tarot cards represents that pure and utter capacity.  The Major Arcana, which depicts the Hero's Journey, is like the conductor's collection of sheet music, and the Minor Arcana, comprised of four suits, represents the range of sound available to make the sheet music come alive:  strings represented by the powerful and comforting cups suit (hearts); brass represented by the cool, metallic swords suit (spades); wind instruments played by the passionate and fiery breath of the complex wands suit (clubs); and percussion by the rhythmic adornment of the pentacles suit (diamonds).  When we hold the full deck in our hands, we hold the realm of possibility ... but which song are we playing today?  And how can we become masters of music?

Your life, today, is a song.  Maybe it is dominated by percussion, or maybe you've outlawed the brass ... but either way, your inner vibrational energy is creating a song.  What the tarot pulls out is the echo.  The reader (me!) sings you the echo they hear through the cards in your reading, so you can recognize the song, and choose to carry on or change your tune.  It's as simple as that.

When I have my querents (or clients) shuffle the cards, I depend on the Law of Attraction.  I depend on this echo to come out through your shuffling of the cards, trusting that "like attracts like," and that your song will echo through the images and symbols.  Each card has its own story, its own sound and tune.  The idea is that when you shuffle, your subconscious mind plays the tune (energy) of both your current situation and your desires of where you want to take this song, and in turn guides you in arranging the cards subconsciously in such a way that the energy of the top 3-10 cards match, or echo, your tune.  Read that last sentence again, and think about it - it is the essence of tarot.  

Then we look at those cards, and I sing you the song that you've laid out for me.  Sometimes it's heavy with the complex, over-arching scheme presented by the Major Arcana, and the conductor's view of how this song has started, plays currently, and where it can end; other times, it's a matter of balancing the wind and string instruments to make your current song play more smoothly.  Sometimes, all seems to be playing well, and we can simply marvel at and enjoy the vibrational awesomeness of beautiful music/life.

All forms of music are ok, and all readings will ultimately tell you that your practice, flaws, firings and hirings, concert exhibitions, and blissful private successes will serve you - in one way or the other.  The magic is in the sound itself - perfect, good, mediocre or terrible.  The magic is in your life - perfect, good, mediocre or terrible.  With tarot, you have an opportunity to hear the music played (instead of being a player in the orchestra), and decide if you like it or not.  If you want to make tweaks, recommendations are made of where to start.

And for the record - card readers (like myself) aren't master composers and players of music.  They're master echoers of the sounds presented by the cards.  That is part of what makes the experience so valuable for us - is our own opportunity to learn more and understand better how the music plays, so we can apply it to the orchestras in our own lives, and share the information freely with others.  In this way, all are served and all are improved without ever any waste.

In my opinion, it's a brilliant and masterful setup ... created by the most talented Composer.  :)

Spiritual Memoir #6: Life is Not a Competition ... or ... The Race I'd Never Win

 For an explanation of this Spiritual Memoir
blog series, see THIS post.

Radiant Rider Waite Tarot

Tarot Card: Nine of Wands

(see pics in this post from various decks)

My Interpretations of the Card
"When creation cages the creator"

I totally pick these cards at random - and I found it really interesting to get the nine of wands right after the four of wands.  Because I see the four of wands as mastering creative power and sticking it in the ground as the framing for life (see post on that HERE) ... and I see the nine of wands (this post) as that use of creative power barely being contained - to the point where it's haunting to the creator.

In the Rider Waite symbolism, the dude is looking very jumpy and suspicious, with a wall of wands/creations behind him.  He's holding on tight to one wand, looking over his shoulder.  The card feels so defensive, protective, and afraid.  But the wands aren't doing that, the wands are just being what wands are; the dude has turned them into a wall for him to peek through to the world.

In contrast, the four of wands shows the wands independently standing, with people cheering their energy on.  It's open and community-oriented.  This card, the nine, is closed and impatiently impersonal.

Crystal Visions Tarot

In the Crystal Visions tarot, a fiery and melancholy woman sits on her lion throne, surrounded in the night by blazing torches. This depiction seems more confident which is a positive edge, but overall it still feels brazen, defensive and almost threatening to me.

Little caveat here: As I was looking at/for different nine of wands cards from different decks for this post, I found a lot of variety in the energy of the card - often with a more positive and reassuring twist.  While that's cool, I like the cards in the tarot that carry shady, nervous, dark, or cold energies, because I feel like they create a more complete, complex reflection of the world we live in.  (My Spirit Guides disagree with me though ... see THIS post).  So I leave this card in its ill-dignified interpretation for this post, and will do so with other cards in future posts, as I see fit.  (Man, is that statement the Emperor meets Queen of Swords or what?!?  I'm so bold! :)

Spiritual Memoir: Nine of Wands
When I was about 8 years old, I started a fast-paced track in life.  My parents saw that normal old public school didn't challenge me, so they started me in various challenging extra curricular activities.  I started with private art lessons at home and horseback riding lessons at a local farm.  At about age 10, I was already fluent in Spanish, so I also started private French tutoring at home.  Then, my parents got me an oboe tutor, picking what they understood to be one of the hardest instruments to play.  I excelled at all of it.  Next, I skipped sixth grade, gaining permission from the school board after scoring 136 on an IQ test.

In Junior High, I took advanced classes, but still was bored out of my mind.  My dad bribed my teachers to give me extra assignments and book reports that would affect my grades in exchange for him donating expensive book sets to the school library.  I liked math a lot, and on my own took my pre-algebra book home and finished the entire book's assignments in about two weeks.  So the school moved me into algebra.  I finished that book in about two months.  So then they put me in geometry.  I taught myself geometry in about half a school year.  I was 12.

By the time I was 15, I had been to over 20 countries in the world, was fluent in French and Spanish, and skipped 10th, 11th and 12th grades, and started my first semester of college.  At 16 I worked three jobs, completed my Associate's Degree and paid for all of my books and tuition with my own cash, bought myself a car, and spent the summer setting up the entire inventory system of my sister's new bookstore.  Believe it or not, I had a healthy circle of friends and even dated.

Once, when I was 16 I got hired as an Executive Assistant to a top executive at a prestigious local company, based on my resume and interview.  He called me back the next day and told me that he couldn't give me the job because he found out I wasn't a legal adult.  I also flew through all interviews for a $35,000/year job at 16 and was going to be hired, but my brother worked at the company and talked the managers out of it because I was young and, though accomplished, actually historically flighty.

Housewives Tarot

Despite the age discrimination, the world was my oyster!  Like the Housewives Tarot's nine of wands, I had my happy face on with all of the brooms and mops surrounding me as I climbed my ladder of success.  Anything was possible, and I actually had the terrible attitude of thinking everyone around me was pretty dumb.  I knew I could do anything, ace any challenge, impress anyone I talked to, and get away with just about any degree of nonsense.

And with that, I found myself very alone in the world.

Although I was surrounded by peers and admirers and all of the wonderful wands of my accomplishments, I was lonely in my defensive stronghold of awesomeness.  I had no idea who I was.  I knew I could do anything, but chose to do what would impress or shock or fill my resume ... never what I liked, or what I was passionate about, or what fulfilled me, or blessed others.

It got worse over time, and hit like a ton of bricks when I was 21 years old.  I had earned a Bachelor's Degree in Business Administration.  I hate business.  I was out of debt and had a teacher that offered to take me under his wing and start a market research firm with him.  I hated market research, and in reality, hated the teacher (although looking back I adore him!).  I didn't have any friends except my one sister.  I had stopped dating and was holding out for one particular person whom I had alienated and expected to come back.  I was a shell.  I was a fancy exterior around a scared, lonely, angry little girl.  And for the first time in my life I realized that without the competition of racing through life, I had nothing.

Accomplishments don't necessarily define us, and they certainly don't always improve us.  Nine of wands energy speaks of how sometimes we create for the sake of creation, we do for the sake of doing.  It's a trap.  We can get so wrapped up in the heat of the moment that we forget who we are and why we're about the tasks at hand.  Think about times when you realized you weren't eating because you were hungry - you were eating for the sake of eating; or that you weren't dating someone because you loved them or enjoyed their company - but were with them for the sake of not being alone.  Mindless occupation, habits of industry, hegemonic compliance.

My passion for overachieving and racing through life built a wall around me, and when I stopped to consider where I was at, I found myself trapped in a ring of fire (like the Crystal Visions tarot).  I was ready to defend myself!! ... but against what?

Incidentally I had an experience at age 24 where I was invited in a meditation to visualize myself with God, and to ask Him who I was.  Who am I?  Whether or not it was God I talked to or just getting in touch with my higher self, or my inner being, the answer surprised me...
I wasn't told I was a smart, accomplished, fast, powerful leader of the universe...

"You are a tender, Divine, accepting woman of light."

That's what I heard.  I am kind, I am deep, I am open to others, I am wise, I am gentle... hmmm... no race or competition in that...

And what's really interesting is that I realized, at age 24, that was how I actually saw myself.  I saw myself in my mind's eye as a gentle, quiet, deep-thinking, and accepting 8 year-old.  Right back to where I started off!

Lesson learned: life's not a race or competition - that attitude isolates and alienates, building fiery walls of separation between me and others.  Keep to my heart, my purpose, my values.   Just because I am capable of tearing the world apart with big brains and an intimidating resume, doesn't mean I ought to, doesn't mean I have to to be a good or valuable person, and certainly doesn't mean I want to.  The tools don't define the objectives of master, the master wields the tools for his own design - (but first, he becomes the master).


"As human beings, our greatness lies not so much in being able to remake the world - that is the myth... - as in being able to remake ourselves."  --Gandhi