I Get A Tarot Reading Every Month Seriously
+++ title = “02” date = 2018 +++
Every month, I watch a YouTube channel where a guy named Nick in an unidentified part of the world reads my tarot. And every month, I learn about what to expect in regard to my health, wealth, and happiness.
He does this by pulling random cards out of a shuffled tarot deck and interpreting what they might mean. And actually, sometimes he doesn’t even pull the cards; instead, he’ll occasionally be clumsy while shuffling and a card will fall out and he’ll use that.
Then he arranges the cards in a spread. In the center of the spread, there’s a catalyst card (bear in mind this could be any card in the deck), that provides a theme for the reading, and then all of the other cards are used in context of the catalyst. For instance, my catalyst card this month was centered around the idea of perseverance. Therefore, even though there were other cards in the spread that may have meant various things, he interpreted these cards through the lens of “perseverance.”
But, of course, when Nick tells my “fortune,” he’s not actually predicting events that will take place in my life. He’s not looking into the future or doing anything mystical. There are no physical descriptions of people I might meet. No promises of me suddenly inheriting some large sum of money.
I do this reading willingly, knowing full well that it has nothing to do with celestial bodies. Knowing full well that the cards he selects were not divinely chosen in any way. They just happened to be what shook out.
See, when Nick reads my tarot, he’s simply looking at a bunch of random pictures and using those pictures as inspiration for an improvisatory narrative. And then I find a way to make that narrative fit my life story.
It’s moving. And it’s what all great art does.
Great art provides the narrative. We provide the meaning.
Great art provides the key. We provide the lock.
So each month, I subject myself to this fascinatingly creative piece of art on YouTube, and then I make his narrative fit my life story.
I still get taken by surprise every day, of course. The difference is that after my reading, I’m better at paying attention. I’m better at filtering out the meaningless events from the meaningful ones (because that can be tricky). I still spend recklessly, eat total garbage, overreact to mildly bad news, and forget to call my mom.
There’s no rainbow, not pot of gold, and the stars don’t align, exactly…
…but at least on this cold February night, I’m aware that they’re there, twinkling faintly in the sky.