Repeating a safety mantra in my head and feeling the soft weight of the cross around my neck, I forced my feet into her ‘lair’.
I’ve always been drawn to Tarot cards and from time to time shuffle them about and try to make sense of their images. In that struggle I find meaning. In the stories I write, Tarot cards, tea leaf readings and the I Ching ‘turn up’ as divination tools to guide my characters. I blame it on my muse.
No bats attacked me. Not even a dust bunny.
So last Wednesday, I decided to get my first formal Tarot reading. I reasoned that for all I really knew, my quiet conversations with rectangular pieces of cardboard were meaningless. They could simply be upside down, cockeyed dialogues with myself, which let me hear only what I wanted to hear. Nothing more than a figure of my imagination.
Incense stung my nose.
Ushered into a tiny cluttered room that must have been intended as a closet, I sat down. She closed the door.
Along the side wall a narrow altar held decks of cards and other things, but for the life of me, I ‘m not sure what.
The altar looked more like a storage shelf that a religious tool for human sacrifice.
I got busy trying to assess my reader who had large round eyes.
Compassionate eyes…knowing eyes. Probed mine.
She asked me to shuffle the cards.
And began with the Celtic cross spread.
“You will be taking a trip…”
My gut tingled.
I am going to take a trip, an important trip.
“You will meet an important person…”
Okay, everyone wants to do that. But when she spoke those words I had a sense that it would really happen.
It’s in my cards.
Then she fanned the cards and had me choose three. Then she fanned them again. Each time the cards added onto the first reading.
You can say it’s all woo woo stuff, but I leave you with this empirical fact. There are 78 Tarot cards. Two cards, The Star and The Sun showed up three times. Chance? I don’t think so. (Besides, they’re happy cards, so I’m going to believe in them.)
What about you? Do you like Tarot cards? Have any interesting stories to share?