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 | "Symbolic Keys" | |
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| The Tale of the Lost Tarot Reading. Sometimes things happen in life for which there are clear, rational explanations, but that leave one with no idea of what actually transpired. The sort of event wherein one goes through the looking glass, reports what one sees to a number of witnesses, then returns to this reality without knowing anything, while to the spectators everything makes sense. If that is somewhat hard to follow, it is because I am in the position of attempting to describe surrealistic landscapes using tools for purposes for which they were not intended. One may paint a picture of a boat but a palette and paintbrushes are inadequate for the purposes of building that boat. |
| Enough of descriptions of the processes involved; I will tell the story as it developed. "It was a summertime and we had invited people for a day-long party. These affairs ran from around 10 am. until the small hours of the next day. There was always a core group of friends that would stay the course, while others would come for a few hours before leaving to be replaced by yet more people. By mid-afternoon everyone was comfortably relaxed. Groups of people were scattered around the gardens and rooms of my house, conversing, listening to music, generally enjoying themselves. When, hand in hand, Mark and Sally arrived, they were quite out of step with the general mood. They were tense, wired for sound. Without preamble they fronted me with a request that I read the Tarot cards for them. I was not at all interested in going to work, so gently refused. They went out into the garden only to return with Anne, Mark's sister, who then put their case to me, stressing that it was important to them. How could one refuse? |
| The entrance hall had a corridor that ran right and left, while opposite the front door were five broad steps that led to rooms at the rear of the house. For some reason I chose to lay out the cards on those steps. I sat on the left side, Mark and Sally sat to the right and the cards were displayed between us. I remember starting the slow breathing pattern that allowed me to dissociate myself from my surroundings, letting my right brain immerse itself into the symbols contained in the pictures on the cards. My last conscious thought was of how the sunlight streaming into the foyer had enriched the colours, drawing me into the the unfolding story. As though awakening from a sound sleep, I looked up to see that we were surrounded by twenty or more totally silent people. Looking back at the cards I saw that the sun had shifted its angle by several degrees, so quite some time had passed. Still bemused, I was barely able to understand that Mark and Sally were thanking me, and making for the door. Seeing the looks on their faces did nothing to reassure me. Despite their thanks, they looked as though they had been shaken to the core. Then they were out of the door and away. Fearing that I had committed a social gaffe, I turned to the crowd for moral support. Nobody moved, and I faced a wall of blank faces. I asked what had happened but no-one had an answer for me. Then Peter, a close friend, put his hand on my shoulder in a reassuring gesture, and told me not to worry as everything was fine. Later, Anne came to thank me, saying that I had solved a troublesome problem for Mark and Sally. Several times, during the years that followed, I have asked people what it was that I said on that day. Nobody seems to have any memory of it. Each person I queried was able to recall the incident without prompting, yet not one of them were able to remember what was said, or had any idea of what had been the nature of the problem that caused Mark and Sally to seek me out. There is a valid explanation of how a Tarot reading works, but the actual practice is more an art form than a science. There have been occasions when I have attempted a reading but have only seen pieces of cardboard with quaint pictures printed on them. When mood, ambience, and purpose are in place it is as if a doorway opens and I am able to stand in the portal between two worlds, looking in to another realm yet able to describe it, and know what I am saying. On that occasion something entirely different occurred." |
| Tarot cards are a book of pictorial representations of archetypes in archetypal situations. "Look, I have the treasure map. We are rich!" "Not yet. The map is only a set of instructions for finding the treasure. First we have to make the journey; and the journey will change us." "What a scam! This Tarot reading is the same as the one that you gave me three months ago. I've been conned" "Have you made any changes in your attitude in the intervening time? No? Then what did you expect?" The Tarot cards are a set of maps; not a magic wand. If you have been conned, then you have conned yourself." |
| Nobody is able to point with any certainty to the origins of the Tarot cards, it is only known that they have been in Europe for a very long time. They have been the stock in trade of untold mountebanks and have been condemned by orthodox religion as the devil's bible. There are many versions of the Tarot to be had, ranging from the bland, christianised version of the Waite deck to the macabre and negative illustrations of the Aleister Crowley set. At face value they are a set of coloured pictures printed onto pasteboard, having no inherent power. Much in the same way that the Mona Lisa can be viewed as being $75 worth of paint and board. Their true purpose is as the illustrated pages of a book of life, portraying archetypes and archetypal situations. On one level they tell the story of the Rites of Passage of Everyman. That is because they were written from the viewpoint of a time when it was only men who were considered as really counting. Having grown wiser in the passage of time, we can clearly see that the story is equally applicable to women. |
| Their second, mythic level, is as both keys and doorways into the mind. Each card, with its central figure and attendant symbols, stands for a complete concept, a description of a situation that can arise at any time in our lives. Sometimes the scenes depicted can be seen as an obvious description of one of a series of events that is happening there and then. At other times they can trigger a previously unrecognised awareness of a pattern of events that is coming into being. We normally think in a linear fashion, one event leading to another in a chain of cause and effect. Events will sometimes happen to take us by surprise. Mulling over the event it can be seen in retrospect that all the indications were in place but that we had failed to see the overall pattern. The cards help to bring into focus an awareness of these patterns in time to act to change or take advantage of them. I once worked for a newspaper in which a number of people had constructed their own little empires. The middle-aged office manager made a point of hiring secretaries, receptionists and office girls who, as well as being efficient, had to fit his concept of nubile handmaidens. He would spend a lot of time standing at his office door, surveying his 'harem'. The editorial staff were not under his personal jurisprudence, coming and going as their work required. One young journalist, Alan, took a shine to the front desk receptionist, stopping for longer than necessary whenever passing in or out of the building, eventually arranging his lunch breaks to coincide with hers. Outside observers were well aware that the office manager viewed this 'trespassing' with a very jaundiced eye. In his mind, the 'old bull' was being challenged. The wheels of politics began to turn. The journalist started to get memos from the Editor ... 'work not up to standard', 'copy being spiked at the last moment' ... He knew that his job was on the line but was unable to see why. His Tarot reading featured The Fool, the authoritarian figure of The Emperor, The Lovers, The Chariot, The Hanging Man. As the story was unfolding he suddenly came out with, "It's that ******* , K (the office manager), he is trying to shaft me because of Jan" (the receptionist). Once part of the pattern was seen, the rest fell into place. Jan's nervousness, the more than usual surly glances from K, the fact that K and the Editor were drinking buddies, the crud assignments that Alan was getting, his frequent inability to get a decent car from the pool. Accepting the situation, he was able to assess the relative rewards of a mild infatuation against job security. At other times people would find the cards drawing attention to aspects of their personality that were hidden from them; areas of behaviour coming into the light of conscious in resonance to the symbols. |