Weekly Reading: Spit what you cannot chew

No black cards this week, but it doesn't make this reading any lighter. The sheer excess of these two cards – the 10♦ and the 9♥ – tells me that something has worn out its welcome in our lives. Powerful emotions are holding us, obsessing us, keeping us from moving on – and soon they will burn us out. If they are not released, or channelled into something productive, they will drag us under.

Too much emotion, too much intensity over something that is dying, or already dead. We need to acknowledge that these feelings exist, and try to release them in a healthy way – through art, or counselling, or even through a physical activity. Perhaps we even need to cry out tears, allow ourselves to grieve over something that has not gone the way we hoped.

Tendra always speaks to me of things we drag with us even though they are just baggage. It's like carrying a corpse with you, hoping that it will love you or give you what you need... only it's dead. It ain't coming back any time soon. Also, it's about being a control-freak – hindering the flow of life because one needs to have everything under control.

And Gilles de Rais, the 9♥, is a very interesting card for this week. Last Wednesday we had a PCO "Underworld" meeting, and this was one of the cards we discussed. For me, it's always about powerful emotions that seek to be expressed... or threaten to drown us! I think it's no coincidence this card showed up... I'm curious to learn more about it, see how it will manifest. It's a scary card, but also filled with potentials, in my opinion.

PCO: Imagination isn't always wise...

Every now and then it happens again. I see myself eagerly giving away my personal power to an unreliable person, usually a man who has been much embellished by my own imagination. This particular man is unreachable and impossible in my case and I know it – I've been trying to stay away from him – but the magnetism is too strong and there are times I find myself wanting to drift away to my dream in which "impossible" is a matter of point of view.

That's when the crows caw caw me back to reality.
It's annoying as hell the sound they make, but it's much needed.

I don't often use the PCO to read for myself nowadays. But today, after much suffering over something that just can't be solved, I picked my deck and laid some cards for me using The Bridge Spread Ana Cortez teaches in her book.

Now, I hate these crows of the 5♠. It's spells trouble whenever they show up... but the funny thing here is that the 5♠ is in the "Gifts of the Present" position. What I am supposed to carry with me. How can such a bad card be a "gift"?

Hell well. It's a warning.

Hear the crows? They are like those dragons in the unknown corners of an old map saying "here be monsters". Don't tell them you haven't been warned, 'cause the are cawing their lungs out trying to make you stop on your tracks before you turn a little problem into a big mistake.

The other interesting point of this spread is the Jack of Clubs – Lancelot himself! – sitting in the position that points to the "Obstacle of the Present". One can't get any luckier than having a bunch of crows for a gift, and Mr. Apparently Perfect as an obstacle, but that's the case. The J♣ here unites with the Q♣, Leah (who is in the Past position of the spread) to show me that a lot of the problem is in my head. I've been dreaming and daydreaming and building castles in the air. I have let my imagination take control and now I want something I cannot have - because it does not exist.

Imagination is wonderful but it isn't always wise. My mind, for instance, is extremely skilled in taking a small bud of an idea and running away with it. When I come back to myself I have a huge tree in front of me; in fact, I am tangled in its roots.

I am like Leah, the Q♣, being carried away by my dream. Only instead of flying, I'm about to fall on my head, like her, who in this spread appears upside down.

But the crows choose this moment to come and caw caw caw caw until I pay attention. And that brings me to the last card, the future, at the same time painful and hopeful. The 7♥, Sword of Healing, tells me that healing is possible. But I have no choice. If I am to stop giving away my personal power, I'll have to cut the tree, extirpate this dream no matter how much comfort I find in it. 

The fruit of imagination – the kind that is never manifested – is always bitter. My personal power and self-esteem will not heal until I cut away the users, instead of giving them access to my resources because my imagination has given them the shiny veneer of a possible dream.

Just so you won't think I haven't learnt anything...

Yeah, those readings I did last Wednesday were pretty much a headache, but I did learn something from them. I mean, aside from deciding that I'm not a Fortune Vending Machine, I have found new ways to look at old cards & card combinations, which is something that always amuses me.

How can the same pictures come up in a reading and surprise us by representing something completely different than what we are used to?

This is one of the marvels of card reading, one of the reasons I never grow tired of it.

So, some new combinations I have learnt during my ordeal. Remember that I use the Playing Card Oracles method created by Ana Cortez, so these combinations probably only make sense within this system.

Q♦ + 5♥  – She who is not what she seems - especially someone hiding behind a kind and compromising mask. In fact any court card accompanied by the 5♥ can represent a person who is hiding their true face, so to speak, but it's particularly dangerous when people are pretending to support you when in fact they are not.

9♠ + 5♦  –  While reading, I usually took this combination as 'beware of whom you trust'. But a comment from one of my friends who was in the room brought another aspect of this combination to light: that of someone who is making their life dry by mistrusting everybody. Of course, the context of the reading made this interpretation possible. A third possibility would be when someone is manipulating you into putting your butt on the line, so to speak. But for readings about romance, I found that the second meaning tends to be more common.

K♣ + Q♣ & other court couples  –  This falls in the category of 'things to avoid in future readings'. I have the habit of describing the Court Cards' personalities in readings, especially when a couple of the same suit appears in the spread. While in times it can be useful, I'm beginning to realise that it's a turn off for most sitters because the feedback I usually get is: 'nope, doesn't relate to the person I know at all'. It's an information that gets in the way, because once the sitter feels he cannot identify immediately with what I said, he shuts the rest of the reading off. So from now on, a couple of same suit shall represent a very strong/important partnership, period. I'll only elaborate if the querent feels curious about the Court Cards.

It's a reading, not a workshop  –  I don't know if this happens to anyone else, but my sitters love to ask what is the precise meaning of each card and position and what exactly they represent in relation to the question. Point is: not every card is relevant. Some can give you the answer, while others are there helping to create an atmosphere. And who ever said cards have a precise meaning? But anyway, I decided that I'm done with teaching while reading. If you want to learn then buy the deck/book, invite me over for a tea and we will spend the whole afternoon discussing the cards and satisfying your curiosity. But while reading, instead of bruising my grey matter trying to explain each card as equally relevant, I shall give a quick keyword and move on the the general spread.

I know that that this post might be pretty irrelevant to a lot of readers, due to the parts concerning card combinations. I apologise, as it's not my intention to alienate anyone. But I felt it was important to me to organise the practical lessons I got from last Wednesday's toil, so there you go.

Samuel Hart Reproduction Playing Cards © Naipes Heraclio Fournier

I am not a Zoltar machine!

Wednesday evening. One of my best friends is moving to a new house and she invited the girls to a "good bye" pizza. After a few pieces of wonderful vegetarian pizza and long conversations about love-spirituality-work and everything in between, they all decided they wanted card readings.

Very well. I was rather tired to be honest – unlike some of them, who are on holidays, I have to wake up everyday at 7 am to work. Even my body was achy due to exhaustion but, not wanting to be the one to disappoint the girls, I sat down with my cards and agreed to read for each of them.

Bad idea. Bad idea.

You shouldn't read when you're almost falling flat on your face, but that is not the reason why I considered that night a cartomantic disaster. Nope. The problem is that none of them had actual questions. They all wanted to know about their love lives, of course, but... there was no intention behind their enquiries. In fact, they would copy the question of the last person, because there was nothing they really wanted to know about.

A long time ago I wrote a post about the importance of intention when doing card readings. When you approach the cards with a vague, mildly unimportant question, the cards don't give your their best. They give you equally vague, and sometimes rather unimportant answers.

That's what happened. There I was, sitting on an old mattress and frying my surviving brain cells in a pitiful attempt to give them meaningful readings. My eyeballs were about to pop out of my skull due to an insidious headache that began to spread when I realised the next hour would be dedicated to "wot's comin' up in my love life?" sort of questions. And not only that. When the answer appeared vague, and I was having a bit of a hard time trying to pinpoint exactly which aspect of their love lives the cards were focusing on, I could feel that aura of disappointment growing quite thick around me.

Mea culpa. I shouldn't agree to read when I'm nearly at the melting point in mental fatigue.

When I got home at 2 am, I was so exhausted that my mind actually felt empty. This is serious coming from a person whose mind is usually rushing at 120 mph.

No, don't turn on your (virtual) heels. Not yet. There is a purpose behind this post.

Before I fell into 5 hours of blissful oblivion, I took my poor card out of their bag. They looked dead. I swear to you, I never had the impression that my cards had been drained of all energy. But that night they were. They felt dirty, sticky, utterly old and forlorn. Not that I ever treated my decks like something sacrosanct – I like it when people shuffle the cards, I want them to be used and touched. I don't mind when they get dirty or worn. But they always had that glow... that subtle vibration. It reassured me that despite the cards' well-loved state, spiritually speaking they were clean and brimming with energy.

But not that night. No, they were dead and I felt so sorry for them, and for myself. And I made this promise: I will never read again for people who don't care about it.

The truth is that I felt a bit exploited. I love to look at card reading under a humorous light and no, I don't believe that the fabric of space and time will unravel if the cards are not respected. But divination is what I do and I put a helluva effort into it. And I just realised that when people come and ask for a reading just because they found no better way to waste their time, they end up sucking the marrow from my very bones – and from my very cards.

Why? Because they put no effort in it. They don't care about the answer, they are being entertained. But in spite of my showman antics in real life, I'm not an entertainer when my cards are on the table. I want to give people my best. I want to help them, to give them information so they can climb the stairways to heaven or pick the highway to hell if they fancy it.

Reading cards can be fun, but fun is just part of it. A reading is an exchange. It's not just about me, looking at funny pictures and coming up with marvellous things. If the sitters are not there with me, if they are not invested in their own question, the magic is lost. I can read in a pub packed with people chatting, getting hammered and watching football, as long as the querent is sincerely interested in what we are doing.

The situation was so dire that I did a small cleansing ritual last night for my deck (and I seldom do rituals). I smudged it and put it in a box with kosher salt, and will keep it there until the New Moon. I covered the box with a dark fabric, and now my deck sleeps.

From now on I'll only do readings for people who want to know something. Even if they can't phrase the question properly, as long as they have a yearning for answers or information, they are welcome at my table. As for the folks who think a card reading is a fine way to spend the next 30 minutes as any, I will have to gently decline their request (I don't charge for my readings yet, so I don't think I should feel forced to read).

The management at my work has a sign on their door that says: if you have nothing better to do, then don't do it here. I shall tweak this idea a bit, and make it personal rule of mine: if you don't want to know anything, then don't ask for a reading.

...and I become Terrene.

When I read the Playing Card Oracles book for the first time, I remember wondering which card I'd use to represent myself in the Lost Man Spread. It's a spread that needs a significator, so I had to choose: which card would symbolise me?

As young woman, my attention went to the 10s - the ladies of the pack. The first obvious choice would be Tendra, 10♦. I'm Sag Sun / Sag Asc / Aries Moon – which is more than enough fire for one person. But for some reason, I couldn't identify very much with Tendra's general personality... She is too bold and headstrong for me. It just didn't feel right.

 

Next in line was Fortuna (10♣). She is lovely, but not like me at all. I'm at best a fake carefree. Behind these smiling eyes there is stress, breathing-down-your-neck stress and anxiety. Tsk tsk. That won't do.

Then I came across Allegra, the 10♥. According to Ana Cortez, she is passionate, romantic, young at heart, vulnerable, risk-taking, impulsive, emotional, moody. Hey – that was me to the bone!

And thus Allegra became my PCO avatar for the next six years. Picture us running across a sunset-lit beach, meeting each other in a hug of joyous recognition. The end. Credits.

...wait a tic. This is not how it ends.

This is not how it ends because it doesn't end. I mean, it will end when I die, but until then I'm subject to the Wheel of Fortune just like the next fellow. And that means being subject to change.

And lately, much to my surprise, it seems the Powers have decided to change my own significator for me. Shouldn't I be surprised when, in the few readings I have done for myself lately, I constantly see Lady Terrene, the 10♠, showing me where I am? The only lady I didn't even consider when first choosing a significator for myself.

Who is this girl? Again, according to Ana Cortez: earthy, grounded (uh...), serving or subservient (eh?), melancholic (alright but...), nurturing, protecting, sensual (yeah, right), practical (mmm...), meek or modest (um, nope).

As you can see, I did not quite agree with the choice. So I just ignored her for a while. After the fifth time she showed up, I had to carefully extract my head from the sand and give it some thought.

Of course I haven't suddenly gone from moody and impulsive to meek and grounded. But changes happen in so many levels, and the truth is that every Court Card can represent an aspect of ourselves at some point. Some aspects are just more enduring than others, but we do change, different parts at different rates.

Last year was an intensive course in humbling for me. It's not about feeling like the doormat of the world. No, I've been humbled before life and its subtle rhythms... I've been forced to accept inaction. To accept that there was nothing I could do except carry on. To learn that I can't read the signs of fate if I'm rushing anxiously through life.

So this is what Terrene is representing. This change of vision, this acceptance of the rhythms that are greater than my desires. This purposeful stillness. This willingness to harness my own impulsive passions, to accept that the world won't spin according to my whims.

I became Terrene when I had to get out of my own selfish suffering to attend to my grandfather (who is fighting leukaemia) and to my mother. I became her when I had to be still and strong because my loved ones needed me to be strong for them. When I had to nourish them while feeling like I had nothing good to give.

I am becoming Terrene as I begin to grow into my role of a messenger, and accept to serve something that I still don't quite understand. As I begin to learn that things need time to happen – if it were on me, the seed would grow into a tree in 2 days time! I become her as I try to do my best with what I have in my hands right now, instead of pining away for what I don't have.

Sometimes I revolt against all this learning and becoming and whatnot. I want it all and I want it now! But since this rebelliousness is just as useful as battering my head against the wall, soon I settle back into trying to find a purpose in this journey.

Curiously enough, I have not shed completely Allegra, or even Tendra... they are part of me. I just threw away what wasn't working any more and made some space in myself for Terrene. Who knows, perhaps in the future I shall be dancing like Fortuna – and carefree for real.