Through a Tarot Lens
I am the girl next door... who reads tarot!
Exploring the 78 cards of tarot through the lens of life experiences, plus the perspectives and opinions of a professional tarot reader and witch.
Death and the Lovers
This may surprise you, but my major life decisions were not decided by using tarot. They were used by trusting my gut. I do mean that quite literally here. One of the most painful decisions I had to make was done using my souring gut alone one fateful morning in the summer of 2007.
I had gone to Seattle with my then-boyfriend the October before for a long weekend. I had suspected then that he was going to propose at the top of the Space Needle. When that fateful moment arrived (and passed without so much as a “Will you...?” on his lips), I should have realized then that the proposal would never come. I didn’t. There’s just some things that you wish will happen with all your heart that are not meant to be, and it’s hard to see a missed opportunity as “right” or part of the Universe’s grand design. You wish for something so hard that you are blinded to all the signs that it might not be what is meant for you (and that something or someone more suited is around the corner).
By the time spring rolled around, I was still living with him in our small illegal basement apartment. When flooding happened that caused the majority of my tarot decks to be destroyed, I still didn’t see the signs. I was devastated and he understood, but it felt as if he really didn’t get it. We handled things and rented a shopvac to suck out the inch and a half of water off of the floor of ¾ of our apartment.
By the end of spring we discussed moving out of our tiny apartment and into a better one further away from my original home. We weren’t seriously looking though; just wanting to move out.
The morning of June 2nd, I had a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach that wouldn’t go away. It was a Saturday, and we had planned checking out the paper and looking at apartments. We were slow to get up and running, and I had been in bed not wanting to get up. The realization was hitting me like a ton of bricks, and I finally had the strength to say, “I don’t want to move into another apartment with you.” (also implied but not outright said was the relationship was over) There wasn’t much discussion that day. Weirdly enough we still went out to lunch, and then as the day waned reality started to sink in for the both of us. Our relationship was over, I had ended it, and he left to go think about things while I gathered some of my belongings together while he was gone and mentioned to him that I wouldn’t be there when he got back.
Here’s the thing about being psychic/intuitive/whatever: You can have whatever abilities, but they are absolutely nothing until you choose to believe in them and TRUST THAT INNER AND OUTER GUIDANCE. I had been getting signs FOR YEARS that the relationship was both right (at the beginning) and then wrong (at the end). For seven years the relationship was off and on and off again, like a yo-yo. Do I think that there is such a thing as a relationship that will last forever? Sure. But the relationship has to be willing to change, evolve, and grow. If it doesn’t do that, it needs to die and be reborn as something new (this relates to the Death card in tarot, though I didn’t think along tarot lines during that time).
When I made that decision without the perceived safety net of the tarot, it was really scary. I thought I would never feel that way about anyone ever again. A worse fear that occurred to me was if I found that kind of feeling again. What would happen then? It was terrifying.
This brings me back to tarot and the 4th position in the Celtic Cross spread (at least how I read it): Dreams and subconscious thoughts creeping into daily life.
If my dream state was a tarot card in this position at present, it would be the Lovers. The ex-boyfriend parade trooping through my dreams nightly, posing as my fiancé. These dreams are not disturbing during them; it’s when I wake up that I have the sense of loss, some regrets, and the “why the hell am I dreaming that?” conversation with myself. My dream state is playing the “what-if” game, and my waking self is caught in the crossfire. Do I have regrets about past relationships? Sure I do. Do I think for one second that I would be better suited with those past exes as my husband? Absolutely not. Yet my dream self continues to wrestle with the concept of the death of my single life.
Image courtesy of Ambro / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
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