genderjumper: cartoon giraffe, chewing greens, wearing cap & bells (Default)

I decided last weekend (in consultation with VS) that in the week after the Equinox, I would finally set about studying the tarot deck in a more thorough and deliberate way than I ever have before. I'm calling it "Reading the Tarot" because I'm going to try to see each card as more of a book or chapter in its own right, inviting the depth, complexity, and multitudes of interpretation

I have quietly hemmed and hawed about which deck I would utilize, since I have several but they are all a bit esoteric. I even took the Quantum Tarot with me one day to begin, but it remains in my bag untouched.

I decided tonight was the night because I am feeling lonely and listless, and these are the very feelings that have been goading me to improve my ritualistic knowledge and practices. On a whim, I chose my Sun and Moon Tarot, which is relatively untouched because it is my favorite. It follows the structure of the traditional Rider-Waite and even preserves some of the symbolism (unlike, for example, the Quantum Tarot, which likens cards to astronomical phenomena -- which are nearly as esoteric and unfamiliar to me), and yet it is rebellious in its depictions of diverse humans with natural hair and playful poses. When I first bought this deck, I called it my "storytelling deck", because I wanted to use it not for discernment but for improvisational story-making. However, I've never had cause to actually use it in that way, so maybe I just needed to grow into it a bit. (My whim was rewarded, but more on that in a moment.)

I showed my niece the deck a few days after buying it and she insisted on going to the same store and buying the same deck that very day. I have carried it with me without much interaction for several years now. It is both fresh and familiar.

I have wondered whether I should go through the order in some sort of elemental order, and perhaps I should humbly put the Minor Arcana ahead of the Major Arcana -- I briefly even considered drawing them rather than going in order, and quickly dismissing that the obvious first step was to put them in order.

I started by guessing at my relationship with the suits as I began piles on the floor before me: I have historically had a strong relationship with Cups -- perhaps too strong -- and Wands seem to be the core of who I am and how I go about things. I placed these in a sort of temporal order, just guessing. I suppose I'm looking for action next, Swords, and although I am so broke I'm about to get sued by a credit card company, I figured Pentacles were still the furthest off, the far future goal rather than near.

I began to sequence each suit in its own piles, leaving gaps so I'd know whether one card was missing or many. It was fascinating how quickly the cards I already knew filled up, and those who were less familiar seemed to straggle. Once in a while, I would think a gap filled only to find its errant occupant later and reassess. But I let the process guide me: those stacks that filled first were supposed to be read first. Sure enough, the cups and wands filled quickly, but not as quickly as the major arcana (which will go first). I almost wonder if they are there to help me spot the narrative trajectory that exists in every suit more easily: true mastery is in seeing the narrative in all suits? Just speculation.

The other question to emerge was how I wanted to handle the "face" cards; I have historically rearranged them a little in resistance to the idea that gendered cards should rank. I'm pretty sure I've had a deck or two who played with this convention and/or changed up the order, but when I checked the book for this one it did not. (Cannot wait for non-binary esoterism to catch up and give us the decks we need.) I ultimately decided if I was going to make a change I may as well own my bias/gender trajectory, so I ranked them Prince, Princess, King, Queen.

Ultimately, the deck emerged in the following order: Major Arcana, Cups, Wands, Pentacles, and Swords (maybe I should be thinking more about belongings than actions, after all...). I have a broad intention to read one card per week, but I should probably caution that I have a long history of experimenting with weeks that were longer or shorter than 7 days, and will have no qualms about doing so here as long as the inquiry feels robust.

genderjumper: cartoon giraffe, chewing greens, wearing cap & bells (Default)
It's starting to feel like the walls are closing in.

COVID case at the kiddo's new school on Day 1.

My partner's sister, a nurse, has now tested positive. She has a kid who is still too young to vaccinate.

But mostly, I'm still not used to how deserted the future looks.

Not to get all metaphysical, but I typically have some vague sense about where I'm headed in the future. It's not that it's ever been all that accurate, only that it had been consistently useful. My relationship with metaphysics is often what I call "falling down the right flight of stairs", that going through the motions of where I thought I wanted to be actually lands me exactly where I was needed to be, however far aflung from my intention. And in late 2019, I developed this weird vibe that my future stopped existing past the early months of 2020. I told everyone it was a "death card event", because when I tried to describe it as "on the level of a major death" and not "on the level of a Death card", people got upset. My instincts were more nuanced, too: I had gotten excited about the prospect of finishing grad school around the same time, and when I had to delay I somehow knew that all of the fun and logistics of graduation would disappear. Either I walked the stage in December of 2019 with full regalia, graduation photos, the works... or I didn't celebrate at all.

What's funny is I didn't even make the connection with "death card event" right away when the pandemic set in. It was months later when I put it together. THIS was the thing I couldn't see around. THIS was the thing that was so big it would change everything in my life -- even though it didn't. It changed everything AROUND my life. My pandemic life, even in lockdown, hasn't changed all that much from graduate school. Stay home a lot, try to make meaningful work that gets noticed, hope that it leads to gainful employment... someday...

And now here we are, 20 months after my sense of any future evaporated. I spent the first half of 2021 plotting to get hired out of state and bail since no one was taking the pandemic seriously anyway, but that was my own anxiety, seasoned with the trauma of Texas' catastrophic power failure in February. I knew the pandemic wasn't over, I was just angry and felt helpless.

I still struggle to see more than a few weeks out -- making intentions rather than plans -- and to find my motivation in all of it. I know some things that helped last year, but to the extent I can extrapolate anything (whether it's logic or instinct or esoteric voices whispering in my ear) I am certain we have yet to see the worst of it. And since my family is stable with minimal involvement from me, I can't tell whether I should be using this time to brain-hack myself further (my general habit up to this point) or to just de-center any sense of self. Maybe I just need to be present more than I need to need to do anything.

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