The Great Tarot Reading of 2011

Gotta love the Tarot!

Gotta love the Tarot!



The Great Tarot Reading of 2011

I remember this moment, back in October of 2011, that has really made me reflect on everything that is going on in my life as of today. To many who know me, they are aware that I have never really been a religious girl, but I am spiritual. It’s hard to wrap up my beliefs into a small paragraph about what “spiritual” means to me, so instead I will describe it the best I can in just four sentences:

  1. I believe in God—just because I don’t believe in God the same way most people do, does not mean I am a non-believer.
  2. I believe in nature and the power of energy.
  3. I believe that the Bible serves a beautiful purpose by telling stories of morality, but I do NOT believe it is meant as a rule book to live by. I think that if you are a good person, who helps others and does what’s best in life and you do it the best you can, then you are a good person.
  4. No one will ever be able to convince me that God doesn’t love me because I don’t follow YOUR rules…accept it and move on.

If you have questions, comments or concerns about these statements, you should probably click out of this post and chuck it up as a loss. This is not the type of reading for you. If your open minded enough to continue, then kudos to you and thanks for at least giving it a shot.

Regardless, I digress.

October of 2011 was a rough month and year for me. Everything that I had known to be stable and worthwhile was snatched from my life in a matter of days. The one relationship I thought I could count on was the very relationship that single-handedly ruined me. The house I lived in was gone and it was turned into a lonely one bedroom apartment. My heart was heavy; my mind was weak; my pockets were drained, and even my happy-go-lucky dog seemed depressed and miserable. It all happened during midterms which added extra stress and the worst part landed on my birthday. The moving out; the fighting; the realization that love had come and gone was just the tip of the iceberg, there was so much more depression that would soon follow.

My first night in my new apartment, I barely had more than a bed with one pillow and blanket. The rest would have to wait a few days. I curled up on my bed and invited my dog to lay with me there for the first time. She excitedly circled around the top of the bed and as I closed my eyes I heard a terrible sound—the noise of urine splashing on my bed! I had nothing to clean it up with except a bath towel. That night, I slept on the floor with my jacket as a cover, and imagined that tomorrow, life would be better.

Fast forwarding a few weeks, I had come across an old tarot deck that I stashed away years ago. In an afternoon, drunken-stooper, I decided to give myself a reading…what was the worst that could happen? I drudged up some of my old reference books and watched the cards tell me the story of what my future might hold. Half-heartedly, I listened to the sound of the silence around me, inhaled the burning incense and dived into my own little world.

I was told that a great death would affect my family, but with that death, new life would soon follow. Sometimes the Death card in tarot can represent the death of “something”, not necessarily a person, so I shrugged it off. You need to see all of the cards together at the end to really understand. I was told that I would receive rewards for my hard work, but only if I was careful—it was possible that I would allow the sadness and depression to stop me from moving forward. I would get a new job, a new life, a new love. I was told about fertility and romance, about my physical being and nipping a poisonous state of mind in the bud before it got out of control. I was also warned that if I didn’t make better choices, that my world would be set ablaze. Not literally of course, but too much drinking, too much depression, too much sadness could ruin everything that I have built.

At the end of the reading I felt neglected, ripped-off. All of those cards seemed superficial; they seemed like something that any beginner tarot reader could find out. I logged them in my journal, put the cards away and continued drinking my 40 oz. of Budlight (yes, I said 40 oz., hey, what can I say, it was dark times).

So here I sit, two and a half years later, moving into my new apartment, with the love of my life—the father of my unborn child (that’s right, I’m 8 months pregnant), going through some of my things. I came across the old tarot journal I used to keep. Almost two years prior, my grandmother, who was the beloved matriarch of our whole family, passed away. It truly was the cruelest of times. I later met the man of my dreams, eventually found out we were pregnant, moved in together and voila…here we are! Although I still have 2 semesters left before graduating college, I plan on finishing. With the support of Ric and my family, I know I can do it.

What really shocked me was how accurate that reading was. It turns out that an important death did affect my family and the creation of a new life soon followed. I received rewards for my hard work: I paid off all of my debt and now have excellent credit, I ended up working for a respectable marketing firm, and I even got an old misdemeanor expunged from my record (that’s a story for another day).  I almost allowed the sadness and depression to cripple me, but instead I went to see a counselor who not only helped me mentally, but she also helped me realize that I was falling down the slippery slope of alcoholism. I did get a new job, and a new love, and a new life (for both me and baby).

As I sit back and feel the movement of my sweet, precious baby girl, I can’t help but feel amazed at how accurate that reading turned out to be. Sure, it’s possible that it was coincidence, and of course it COULD just be that I saw what I wanted to see out of it, but does that really change the meaning behind it? If I hadn’t done that memorable reading of 2011, who knows what might have happened. Maybe I wouldn’t have thought twice about my decisions, maybe I wouldn’t have acknowledged that I was creating an addiction that easily could have spun out of control. Maybe, I wouldn’t have walked down the path I did to end up here today.

Many of the religious folks will say that reading was either an act of God or an act of evil. But, I truly believe that it was God’s way of watching over me. I believe that the nature of my being was much more accepting of that reading than a church preaching or a prayer. In many ways that reading altered my course in life. I hope that one day I can pass on what I’ve learned to my daughter, but if not, that’s ok. God will reach her in the way that she knows best. It’s an interesting thing we have going for us in this life…sometimes we understand it, sometimes we don’t, but in the end we all live one, and I believe that we are in control of our paths, but occasionally we all need a little help along the way.