Tarot and Care of the Soul

I’m reading a book I had forgotten I’d even downloaded on my Kindle. It’s Thomas Moore’s “Care of the Soul.” I’ve just started it, but already it’s led me to make some parallels between tarot and how one tends to the proverbial garden of soul in this life.

Moore makes a case for care vs. cure. In today’s highly allopathic-oriented society, the aim is usually to fight, combat, and eradicate any pathology that exists. The total removal of symptoms is often the objective when we’re faced with any sort of dis-ease in our lives, from emotional distress to health issues. While it’s clear that allopathic medicine has its place, Moore maintains that in the frenzy to cure what ails us, we’ve forgotten how to care for the symptoms that trouble us, and in so doing, we’ve lost touch with the parts of our self, our soul, that are crying out for expression.

One of the phrases early in the book that struck me is this one:

Let us imagine care of the soul, then, as an application of poetics to everyday life. What we want to do here is to re-imagine those things we think we already understand.

This, to me, can be directly correlated to a thoughtful use of tarot. In my own practice, I use the cards to assist clients in “re-imagining” as Moore says, their current situations. This creative exercise digs deep into inner knowing and areas of soul that are surfacing to be heard and acknowledged and integrated.

I also like Moore’s mention of applying poetics to everyday life. In my work with Enrique Enriquez, I’ve learned a lot about how poetics and wordplay can be one manifestation of how the symbolic world operates, and how tarot can be yet another of these manifestations.

Working with the tarot can help us to perceive how things and circumstances in our lives are constantly changing. It can also show us how sometimes, things are not necessarily to be eradicated with brute force but rather simply followed and understood.

I remember something that Enrique told me early on in our work together: “Follow the oracle.” This is a beautiful expression of what we can do as tarot readers and clients—simply follow the oracle, rather than trying to bend it and twist it to our own will and desires, hoping that it will provide us with a definitive cure to the distress in our lives. That is the beauty both of working with an oracle, as well as the beauty inherent in caring for soul rather than trying to “cure” it. When used this way, tarot can offer us a less subjective perspective on our lives, thereby allowing us to “care” for ourselves and our situations rather than try to “cure” them.

Let’s draw three cards as a closing commentary on the care vs. cure approach to soul and living.

We can ask the cards: “How can we nurture and care for our souls, rather than trying to cure and get rid of what we perceive as defective within?”

We have The Devil, the 3 of Wands, and The Hanged Man.

In care of the soul, first we have to become aware of and respectfully acknowledge the power that our personal assumptions, addictions (mental, physical, emotional), ego-based thinking, and self-destructive behaviors have over us, that keep us feeling trapped and dis-eased. Easier said than done! But soul-based living and care for the soul requires that we own up to our own role in keeping ourselves chained to feeling “less than” and not already whole. Also, in keeping with the concept of “care” versus “cure,” we need to own “The Devil” in our own lives, in our own souls. Care means tending to all facets of self and giving all parts of ourselves respect and a voice, in order to understand our intrinsic wholeness.

Many people want to eradicate any trace of “bad” from themselves and their lives, and yet, that’s an unrealistic proposition. Recognition and acceptance of the dark side of ourselves and what we perceive as unworthy and unlikeable is the first step, then, in embracing the totality of our soul and caring for it. According to this spread, if we can’t find it in ourselves to embrace our own personal demons and shadow side, we won’t be able to properly care for our souls in their entirety. Remember, care means acknowledging, observing, and giving voice for expression, rather than fighting against, disowning, and repressing out of fear and loathing. Does this mean we can’t change behaviors? No. But it does mean that before we can change things, we have to sit with them for a moment, get to know them, open our eyes to them, understand what they are and what they are about, rather than trying to obliterate them with reckless abandon as if they never existed. Those chains will hold us back until we are brave enough to try to figure out what got them there in the first place.

Once that process is recognized, the time comes for visioning a new perspective. We can now look out on our horizon with new eyes, dreaming big about where we want to go now that we no longer feel chained to negative self-image and fear of darkness and entrapment. The way is clear, the outlook is expansive, and exploration is ahead: exploration of areas of the soul that we haven’t given voice to, and we can get ready to actually embark on the journey of tending to the garden of soul.

Finally, we’re called to attend to the soul. “Attending to” means paying attention to, waiting upon, and being present with. It means having patience, listening, and perhaps even a “hands off” approach, all qualities we see in The Hanged Man. We must “hang out” with ourselves and see what unfolds when we take a non-action approach.

These cards pinpoint precisely the difficulties inherent in the concept of care of soul, tending to it rather than trying to ruthlessly manipulate and bend it to our will or what society thinks we “should” be in order to be “good.” In Western society we’re constantly encouraged in “self-improvement” and “taking action.” Yet, in this spread, the cards that provide the “bookends” to taking action are completely counterintuitive regarding “self-improvement” as an obligation for living a soulful life. Rather, they emphasize quiet observation and humble recognition.

So, here again we have one of the graceful capabilities of the tarot. Coming full circle, we can see how the cards here have helped us to “re-imagine” a way of approaching our soul’s evolution in a more holistic and compassionate way, re-imagining something we thought we already understood.

The Ultimate Lesson of the Cards

Today I wanted to talk about a great experience I recently had in my life. It happened about a month ago, when I had the opportunity to meet two amazing people that welcomed me in such a wonderful way that we can say that yes, it is possible to have several families in the heart. In this case, I’m talking about this particular family which is the Maelstrom gang that happened to get together, even though we remain scattered throughout Europe. Talk about social networking…

I’ve already knew Miguel, with whom I studied, but I still had to personally meet the two ladies that are part of this family, Shelley and Isabel. Shelley knew only Miguel, and I think Isabel didn’t knew anyone personally. Thus, a weekend was arranged and set so that we could all meet up and hang out. I and Miguel were meeting Shelley at the Amsterdam train station on Saturday morning. We were supposed to travel south to Den Haag, where Isabel was waiting for us all. But meeting Shelley was the real ice-breaker. She had such a beautiful and truthful smile, that combined with her warm and powerful hug, I immediately lost all anxiety that this meeting was causing me.

Here, I want to confess that meeting up with tarot people usually leaves me anxious. I never did have that many contact with other tarot readers, apart from a few persons here in Oporto and once, when I was at a tarot conference in England. That experience helped me open up a bit (if you want, you can read about it here), but I still get all jittery inside just thinking of it.

I guess that happens because we almost never speak the same language when talking about cards: most people have this thing about keywords and how each card means this or that and I just keep staring at them trying to figure out what the hell do they mean. Or, if I start to talk about how I see cards and how the images seem to dance in front of my eyes, building up a story right there, there’s usually someone looking at me and wondering where can he or she find that liqueur I just had. I mean, I do understand their point: there are no references in how I read, just images. But then, that’s part of the magic of reading cards. How the same card can indicate so many different things instead of the same old same old. Ok, so maybe I’m simplifying things, but you get what I mean, right?

Well, meeting up with my colleagues here at Maelstrom was quite a treat. First with Shelley on the train station, and later on the train towards Den Haag. It all seemed like we knew each other for quite a long time, that not even the old hag complaining about the noise inside the train — hey! we’re latins, know what I’m saying? — was able to spoil anything. In fact, quite the opposite occurred, since right after we were shushed and that learned that “silence usually means not talking”, this wonderful child — which no doubt also has some great latin genes — started making all kinds of loud noises for the remaining of the journey. This is magic of the highest level, when the Universe itself deems to tell you that you’re right on the spot!

Then it was arriving at Den Haag, a city where I lived in about 16 years ago, during that short time of my life that I was living in the Netherlands. And a place that really I had such a great time, it really grew close to heart. This return to Den Haag was stirring all kinds of emotions and memories inside me. But the that wonderfully pesky child in the train told me, if this was to happen, if we were all supposed to meet, maybe things would be easier here, as in a way it was like coming back home.

Returning to Den Haag after all this time was lovely. Isabel was there with a greeting in everything the same as Shelley’s. And we had some time to walk around the city, although I couldn’t really relate to anything from the time I was living in there. Guess that too much time has passed. But I got to know this wonderful cafe, run by one of Isabel’s friends…And quite a fierce card reader as well.

You know the old saying… whenever there’s cards and readers, there will be readings. It’s as sure a thing as death and taxes. And we did! We did! We did read cards. Isabel read to Shelley, Miguel read to me and Shelley, I read to Isabel and so on and so forth. But we didn’t really read the cards. We would lay the cards on the table and everyone would talk about what they saw. Whatever was on the table, the Tarot of the Bones, The Sibilla Oracle, the Waite-Smith, the Carolus Zoya, the reading came out not from an individual mouth, but from the whole collective. More than a reading, we got into a sharing process where everyone was building on top of everyone else, until a conclusion was reached that was beyond the individual.

For me, it was an eye opener: I was used to people arguing about the meaning of a card. Curiously much more about the meaning of a particular card than the importance of that particular card in the spread. Usually, but not always, it’s those that have a fixed set of meanings for each card and immediately start running infinite mental combinations in search of that special sentence that provides the answer to what they’re seeing. The whole thing feels like it’s some sort of safe-cracking gig, but to each it’s own. Then, there’s the ones that see different things in the same cards, but arrive at the same conclusions: their readings reinforce your own, but add little value to what you’ve put to the table. And finally, there’s the ones that go synergistic, everyone combining their eyes to build a better eye that comes closer to an all-seeing eye.

Because, let’s be frank, the secret to card reading is not so much what we know, but what we allow ourselves to see. What I strive for, as a card reader, is the ability to see everything that is in front of me. But, that means that I must not care about anything: I must not care about my feelings or about anyone else’s feelings for that matter (empathy, is such a big no-no that it should be cut down the instant it approaches). This also means that I must not care about the results of the reading or any consequence that it may entail. There is only the reading and nothing more than the reading.

Reading like this would be perfect! But I’m still so far away from that that to actually have people around me that can make me overcome my blind spots to go that extra mile is great. And when I can also do this to them, then there is equal sharing. There is symbiosis. And what comes out of it is no longer a simple group of people, but something much larger than that. Something that takes you to a whole new level of reading and perception.

In all, it was a truly magical day, where people from different parts of the world got to meet in a special city and understand how they functioned better together than apart.

It was no surprise than that when all things were over and I was alone in my room, I got this for the question “Did we really need to be together for this journey?”

We did. Justice on the side (in the position that reflects what’s behind the question) is arbitrating the whole thing. And justice stands for truth, so there it is.

I usually use this as a yes or no spread. But here, it’s one of those special cases where there is no “yes” path and there is no “no” path. There only is. And you can find a single story through out all of these cards.

What the cards are indicating was that this was the right moment for us to meet each other and start profiting from each other’s strengths. We will push each other’s boundaries so that all of us can get out of their comfort zone and see things in a different fashion that will ultimately lead us to a higher level. And even if we took the bottom line as a “no”, the first two cards are very explicit: you will go out and search for what is missing, but in the end, you would not leave your own backyard, becoming content with playing with your toys. The question that pops up to this reading would then be “what is it that is missing?”, but this would just send us back to the original question: “Did we really need to meet…?”

When things need to happen, they need to happen. When they are special, they are indeed special. You will know, because there are pointers everywhere. Even if it’s just a little child on a train making sure you know that you should not shut up. It does make me wonder why do we need card readings at all, if all it takes is to be aware of all that’s happening to us and with whom things are happening. I guess that’s the ultimate lesson the cards can give us: be aware… now and for ever. But, while you’re working on it, do read some cards.

Divine Politiks

One of the priviledges of being a tarot reader is that you never know what might come your way. Sure… There’s the usual questions about love and work and whatever, but once in a while, something comes along that leads you to an interesting experience.
Yesterday, someone asked me to read him the cards. He was doing his daily prayers to Saint Michael, when he was, according to him, rudely interrupted by this goddess he had recently started working with. A tibetan goddess called Kurukulla, that according to what I could find on the internet is a goddess of love and desire. Sensing there was something odd about this whole behaviour, he wanted to know why was she behaving like that.

Here’s what the cards had to say:

In the consultant position, we have the Sun card, with a child with open arms underneath the Sun. Someone that’s under the protection of the Sun would be an immediate reasoning. A child? Maybe in spirit, if not in body. There’s no worries here. Everything seems to be rolling just fine. Across it, there’s the Hanged Man, with the child hanging upside down. There’s still a golden circle across his head, but it has diminuished. Maybe it’s loosing importance? And above, the first hint to our answer, the Emperor. This card is all about fighting for what one believes. And fighting to win. So, maybe this Kurukulla deity is fighting the Sun for my client’s attention. And with the Emperor card, she does seems determined to get him to swich sides. A fight to win, no matter what.
That Hanged Man then seems to indicate that she feels herself a better fit for my client than the Sun / Saint Michael. Almost like she’s telling him “you’ll get better results with me. Come over to my side.” But that would mean that my client would loose the Sun’s protection (the diminuished halo on the Hanged Man’s head as opposed to the one on the Sun card), and by doing so, he could be opening a whole can of worms. So, why was she doing this?
The horizontal line Sun / Hanged Man might provide an answer: they used to function together, but then things gout sour. Work, perhaps… maybe love. Or something got in between them. Whatever the case, things fell apart. The Emperor on top would suggest that she wants to prove herself better, so maybe it was the Sun that changed his mind. The diminuishing halo around the Hanged Man’s head could also point to that. So it wouls seem that she sees this as a chance to rise in the Sun’s eyes. Rise in importante or in attention (shown in the Judgement card).
So, why would my client be better with a deity that’s doing something out of spite? Most probably he wouldn’t be. He’d loose his current relashionship with the Sun entity, trading it for something that doesn’t have any warranties. His best choice of action would then to 1. Continue with Saint Michael and simply let go of Kurukulla; 2. Trying to figure out how to deal with both parts accordingly. The Emperor card, with a scepter and an orb on each hand seems to point out that option #2 is possible, just as long as he keeps things seperated and maintains a strong control over the situation. Otherwise, it’s door number 1 for him. In either case, things should resolve quickly.

I honestly never expected to see such a human situation with such a divine matter. Gods behaving like humans. We look to them for guidance and we find our own behaviour reflected back to us. And if that’s the case, what then is their purpose? I keep going back to a phrase i read somewhere about how “we used to pray to god everyday until we found out we were just talking to ourselves”. Then again, if they didn’t have a function, why would we still need going back to them? This client with Saint Michael and Kurukulla. Me with Baron Samedi. Who I talked about in my previous post and who I ended up going to during this reading, when I felt my own heart tightening and hurting, as if someone was squeezing it, asking him to help me fight what was bothering me. All it took was a cigarette and a glass of liquor for the Baron to do what I asked for.
And if we do go to the gods for intervention and protection, why shouldn’t they fight for us? We keep them alive with our prayers and our constant remindings. We look up to them for inspiration, elevating them and maybe, putting them on a pedestal. Maybe, for all their powers we should treat them as we treat ourselves. No more, no less… Or perhaps our own reflection at the mirror…