Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Have you had your cards read?

Have you ever had your tarot read? 

My husband and I got the mystic itch and paid twenty bucks to attend a psychic fair a few weeks ago. Mr. Sunshine and I were ushered to a small roped-off area of the room hosting a dozen or so adults at little card tables. Each psychic had her own special ability. One woman twitched as she whispered to the dead over her shoulder. A scarred man scattered runes across his table. I limped over to my psychic who looked like a retired elementary school teacher in her pumpkin-print blouse and gold coin earrings.

The first words out of her pink-slicked mouth, "you're getting your master's degree."

 I froze. I went in a blank slate. 

She shuffled her tarot deck.

"…Yes I am."

 I redressed my stone face and sat in the folding chair across from her.

"You're a nurturer, and you have a fierce love of humanity, you're  a-----------" 

She got the profession right too.

She set her timer, and flipped through the worn arcana, occasionally glancing over my shoulder at the waiting clients. She laid the cards without ceremony. Here are a few of her revelations.

The five of swords appeared. She tapped it and said "the sun is going down on your pain." She could have inferred I was in pain, but she didn't go for the obvious right away. In fact, most of the reading dealt with other things. 

I wish my current levels agreed with her. My C-Reactive Protein was measured at 8.5 last week.  It was 5.5 in September. Things hurt.  Considering I get about two and half good days in 14 for a bi-weekly shot, plus weekly Methotrexate and daily Prednisone, I'm eager for that burning sun to set, and soon. Not willing to pop chemo like candy yet, but weekly Humira shots are OK with me. 

She revealed a card with a man looking over a precipice, at the top of the mountain looking down, she said "your body still has a bit more of a fight. Have patience."

She pulled the three of swords (there were a lot of swords). A giant masticated heart floats, centered in the window of the card, three swords penetrate it from numerous angles. She said, "your heart has been broken many times in the last year."

 Well, hell yes it has. A little literal on the interpretation there pumpkin, but it works. Losses, changes, and wounds I'll not forget. I am sad I can't go back to sweet, naive Sunshine. But, denial's lacy filigree has been lifted from my eyes. 

"Your heart is healing though, you are getting better."

I am. I feel a deeper appreciation for myself now, and a stronger love of others. My love has different shades, new colors, though the wattage is turned down. I'll never rock the pulpy red passion of a youthful heart again, but my colors glitter deep and bright, like a diamond mine.

The next card she pulled was The Devil.  "Who was the older alcoholic man in your life?"

Nice card sequence.

" He is going to try to come back to your life in some way, but don't trust him until you have all the information. He is not out for your best interest." 

Hmmm, looks an awful lot like T-Shirt Guy to me, just a tad hairier and goat-like.  Although he is a Capricorn. Another thought on the significance of The Devil card: that I dropped to a level of functioning below myself last year. Also true.

Apparently Pumpkin believes in reincarnation. She said my current pain and intellect stem from unconscious reflection on my misdeeds in a former life. I am paying back old sins. In some ways her words sync up with an understanding of who I am. Although as a friend put it "you must have been something awful Sunshine." 

Recognize now that I am not making a claim about any other human beings and their pain, just reporting the psychic's words.  

Growing up my mind was torn between science and faith.  My brain's wiggly little fingers liked to snatch up random facts, tidbits to store away for later use. My only sibling is an engineer, our parents practical, math and public administration the music of my home. I also felt a misplaced whimsy when I was younger, a unicorn who had hidden its horn to blend in with the horses. I'd rescue the worms off the road when it rained, let spiders outside, and didn't kill mosquitoes. My family saw the critters for their function in this world, and got out the traps, swatters, and tissues. I saw little lives flickering about.  

I suppose I've not just a love of humanity, but of all living things. If I did commit grievous sins in a past life, it has always been in my nature from a young age to do no harm. Did Pumpkin recognize that in me? How I cried when a mouse screamed as it died in a trap? Or my recent grief when a very young person told me she might have JRA? Or was the psychic simply sharing her thoughts and beliefs to provide a scrap of comfort? Perhaps I can't face the fact that RA is just luck of the genetic lottery. Maybe I am selfish to require a significance attached to this illness. If so, is it wrong?

 RA has not afforded me any new answers, but its flambeau has lit the way to self-discovery through turns dark and wet, not safe like the woman before me that day, teaching me about myself with her tarot deck, her words strangely comforting. 

Of course maybe Pumpkin wasn't safe at all. Maybe she made me think too much. I often wonder how far down the rabbit hole people really want to go. What do you want to know about yourself? Truly? What is your torch? 

Have you had your cards read?


  1. Great post, sunshine!
    You make me want to visit a psychic!
    Keep looking up :)
    Things look hopeful for you

  2. Thanks Ms. O.!
    It was a neat experience. This only touches on some of the things I'd written about in this blog. The reading was actually 20 minutes long. I think things are hopeful too. :)
    Thanks for reading!