Tag: Tarot Cards

Chapter Sixty-Seven – Five of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

I had been spending a lot of time with a friend I had met a few weeks ago. I’d needed to get a break from Lisa as I thought about how to go about finding my way forward. It’s something I’ve never been very good at. When I make a decision, it’s time to move regardless of timing or circumstance.

When I met Rhonda, I knew right away that she was a spitfire and a flame. She didn’t take, but she burned so brightly. She lived life to her own drum and didn’t give two shits about what people thought about her. She carried her four feet nine-inch frame with grace and wasn’t afraid to sashay, when need be, on five-inch heels that she should actually walk in. I had tried once and fallen on my face.

Rhonda was part of the Pagan community. She had come to one of the Pagan brunches and made a beeline right for me. “You gotta play with the gays, honey,” she said, bumping my butt with hers.

She was a solitary witch and knew all about Lisa. Rhonda lived down the street from Lisa, and I would often see her as I walked around the neighbourhood. Lisa would pretend like she wasn’t there.

I would watch the two of them interacting at Pagan brunches and saw no love there between them though they hugged like everyone else did. I watched as they kept their bodies from touching each other when they embraced. The dislike was mutual and very apparent to everyone around them.

I had asked Lisa about the animosity that I saw between them and her eyes narrowed in dislike. “Stay away from her,” she said, pointing at me with her cigarette, the red cherry at the end of like a flaming period. I actually stepped back from her; I had never felt such a wave of dislike. “You don’t want to have anything to do with her, understand?”

Nodding, I bristled inwardly. I didn’t like anyone dictating to me what to feel. It wasn’t that I disliked it when someone offered genuine help or guidance, but I took offense at the directness of her telling me what to do. I did the only thing that felt right to me: I went to see Rhonda.

I had never walked away from Lisa, it felt like I was starting a new path for myself and I didn’t know what I was doing, but I knew what I wanted to do. Rhonda was waiting for me when I arrived at her building and went into the foyer. It was an old house that had been converted into apartments, just like Lisa’s house. I heard a door open above me and then Rhonda’s voice. “Come on up honey, the tea is steeping.”

I went up the stairs to the third floor and she was there, holding out her arms for an embrace and an air kiss. “Come on in. You’ve got something on your mind; I can see it, you know?”

I followed her inside and for a moment, it felt like I was making a deal with the darkness by venturing inside of her home. She was a complete opposite to Lisa who wore whatever she could get for free, so it was always a hodgepodge of styles and always spoke about embracing the light.  Rhonda was clothed in black leather, lace and fishnet stockings, make up and talked strongly about honouring the shadow as much as the light. It was fair to say that Rhonda fascinated me.

“Come, sit and be merry.” She passed me a cigarette and poured me a cup of tea. “Spill.”

I sat on her couch and my lap was immediately occupied by her fluffy grey cat Shadow. He purred up a storm and was head butting me for love and affection, so I gladly gave him some pets. I knew that pets could sense unease and upset and were known to be good healers. I pet Shadow’s fur and he purred louder when I gave him a scratch behind the ears.

“I think I need something different.”

“Of course you do. You’ve already thought a lot about it. I can tell you’re almost there. Let me here your thoughts.”

Rhonda was like this. I had watched her with others in the community. She helped others work through their shit, whether the other people wanted to or not. She could pull out a problem that the people she was trying to help weren’t even aware of. It was kind of creepy to a lot of other people how right Rhonda was, so she was often on her own. I didn’t feel that way about her and sought out her company.

It was why I had come to see her after all.

“I need a solution.”

“And what’s the problem?”

I shrugged. “I’m bored. I don’t want to sit around anymore. I need my own place and I want a bed. Am I being selfish?”

“Honey, no. You’ve been camping out on her floor for a long time now. I’m surprised you lasted as long as you did. It’s not wrong to want a fucking bed. I mean, at least you had a bed at the shelter. They had nothing else to give you, but at least you had a fucking bed.”

I nodded and held onto those words. “I mean, she has given me a home when I didn’t have one.”

“Honey, you sleep on her fucking floor like a dog. That’s not a home. It’s not wrong to want a space of your own. You need room to grow and you’re not going to grow when you’re planted there.”

I wiped away the tears when they came. “It feels like I’m betraying her by wanting something more.”

“You only want what you deserve. And it’s good that you’re fucking bored. I’d be bored as fuck all if I sat around reading books, playing Mario Kart and smoking cigarette’s all day.”

She put a hand on mine. “I know that it’s hard. You have come to realize that you want more. It’s not that you’ve outgrown the friendship, but you have outgrown the living situation. You’ve been holding yourself so tightly, Jamieson. You have to let yourself go a bit.”

I let out a watery laugh. “I’ve been working on it, I really have.”

She patted my hand and took a sip of her tea. “I know you have. You have dealt with so much hardship in your life that you’re thankful for any amount of kindness, even if it’s no longer kind to yourself.”

Lighting a cigarette, she looked for a moment as if a lightbulb had gone off in her eyes. “And I think I know just the thing to help. What are you doing tonight?”

I shook my head. “Nothing. Finishing my book, looking at the stars.”

Letting out a snort, she butted out her cigarette and got up. “Not with me, you’re not. Hold on a second.” She went to her bedroom and came back wearing a flowing black skirt and a green sparkly crop top.

“We’re going out.” She said.

Chapter Sixty-Five – Three of Pentacles

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Personal Growth, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot

When I arrived at her home, Darnelle had all sort of things laid out on her dining room table. She poured me a mug of tea and laid out milk and sugar on the table. The cups looked funny among all the magical paraphernalia. I was immediately put at ease when I took my first sip. I saw Darnelle smile at me.

“Never underestimate the healing powers of tea. It reminds us to spare a few moments for ourselves, at least while the tea is hot. Tea helps us to stop, breathe and practice patience.”

“How does tea give us patience?” I asked her.

“Because young and old, we wait for that tea to cool slightly so that we can drink it. It’s kind of like magic. We’re afraid until we delve into the pool beyond our ankles, but then when the water is supporting our weight, we let go and wait for joy.”  She lit a cigarette. “Here, let’s do your Medicine cards and find out who your guides are.”

Pulling the deck towards her, she put down her cigarette in the ashtray and handed me the deck of cards. “You need to shuffle these until you feel like you are done, just like the Tarot cards you love.”

It felt odd to be holding a deck of cards without having a question to guide me. While I was shuffling, I thought to myself ‘Who is willing to guide me?’. It felt better to give the shuffling some direction. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind of nothing else but the question so that it would take up room in the dark. I could feel a card fly free from the deck. I opened my eyes and put the deck on the table.

Darnelle held up the card that flew out of the deck. “Looks like the Wolf if your guide.” She let out a bark of laughter as she set the card down in front of me. “Well, you already chose them.” I knew that she was referring to the fact that I had changed my name when I was eighteen so that I would no longer carry my fathers name as my middle name and family name. I had chosen the name Wolf as my middle name. I always had a fascination with them and the wisdom that they carried. I liked that they were part of a pack to survive but would go out alone if they needed to. I had a pack of people that I loved and could be the lone Wolf if I needed to be.

She lit another cigarette and took a sip of her tea. “Spread the deck around in front of you and slide your hand overtop of the pile. Stop when you feel a card pull you.”

I did so, familiar with this being a way to look for a Tarot card, too. I used my left hand. I was right-handed and I had learned that the dominant hand rids you of the energy that you don’t want and the non-dominant hand brings in the energy you do want. I ran my hands over the blue backs of the cards, the yellow lighting bolt design looking as if it would point me in the right direction.

Stopping when I felt a tingle in the palm of my hand, I plucked the single card from the pile and held it up. It was the Crow card. Darnelle smiled at me.

“That’s so profound. Did you know that the Crow is one of the only animal spirits that can go to the land of the dead and cross back over the border of the world of the living? They are harbingers of magic and they tell stories. When they speak, you need to listen. Much like you’re a writer and you have seen so many shadows in your life. The Crow will show you the right way for you.”

I took a sip of tea and looked at the Wolf and Crow cards. “Don’t thing come in threes?”

Nodding, Darnelle smiled. “Yes, but in this case, they are your guides and you have to work together to get to where you need to go. You have to work together, the three of you, to achieve your goals. They are with you to show you the way as best as they can, but you have to find the way yourself. Does that make sense? The three of you have to work in tandem to create what is possible.”

I nodded, because that made sense to me. It was nice to know that even though I was asking magic for help, I was still in control of my life. The Wolf and the Crow would help guide me, but I knew that I had a lot of work ahead of me. “Thank you,” I told her.

“Okay, now that we have your guides, we have to work on your resume.” She got up to pour some more hot water for our cups of tea and lit a cigarette. “You need to tell me about all your skills and the jobs you’ve done before your time on the streets, before you ended up at Lisa’s. Do you remember everything?” She handed me a pad of paper and a pen. “I’ll help you make a new resume. It’s something I’ve helped a lot of people within my line of work. We got this, okay?”

I looked at the blank page in front of me, and I knew that my guides, I knew that I would find my way to where I was supposed to go. The page in front of me was asking me to create the direction I wanted to go in. I was being asked to really focus on myself for once. I took a deep breath.

“Okay,” I said.

Chapter Sixty-One – Queen of Swords

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Finding Balance, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life

After the magic circle, I ran into Soph and his friend Katie. They walked towards me and I my spirit was buoyed by the fact he smiled as he looked at me. When I got closer to him, Katie smiled and gave him a nudge in the ribs.

“Hi,” he said to me.

I found it amazing the amount of meaning that one small word could have. I could feel the blush starting in my cheeks and I gave him what I was sure was a wobbly smile. “Hi,” I said back. “Um, how are you?”

“Soph has been talking about nothing but you,” Katie said.

My blush deepened. “Really?”

“Yeah, nothing x rated or anything, but he’s into you.”

“Really?” I wished my brain would think of something else to say.

“Really.” Soph said. I could see a yearning in his eyes, and I wanted to give into that emotion. Soph had seen me naked and had not run from me. He wanted me, I could feel that from where I stood. It would be so easy and still, I held myself back.

I heard someone walking up behind me and I watched as Soph and Katie kind of snapped to attention. The look of lust in Soph’s gaze was gone, replaced with what looked like fear. I hear a voice behind me.

“Jamieson are you done with your bath?” I turned to find Sophie at my side. “Excellent, come and walk with me.” She looped an arm around one of mine. “Good morning Soph, Katie.”

They nodded and smiled at her and stood stock still as if afraid to move. I gave Soph one last glance until Sophie snapped her fingers in my face. “Focus on me, please.”

“Sorry,”

“It’s okay. I’m all for a sure thing, Jamieson. But too much of a good thing can be harmful.”

“It depends on what it is.”

“Yes and no. I mean, far be it from me to tell you not to go after a sure thing, but shouldn’t you work on loving yourself instead for now?”

We walked and I took comfort from the breeze that moved around us, as if it were asking me to choose a path. I noticed that the wind seemed to be even stronger when I was with Sophie, but I didn’t know if that was my imagination or the way she conducted herself. I know that she spoke from a place of wisdom and I tended to take her words to heart.

“I’m going to say this and you’re going to listen and you can decide to do with the words as you wish. Are you listening?

I could hear the sounds of the air whispering in the leaves of the trees and watched as my cigarette smoke was dancing around me, twisted into curls and ribbons by the wind. I stopped walking and turned to face her. “Yes, I am.”

“You’re still broken,” she said, placing a hand on where my heart lay within my chest. “You’re broken, hurting and lost. You had true love, it takes a long time to get over that.”

“Francis didn’t love me.”

“Yes, he did. Anyone looking at the two of you could see that he loved you as much if not more than you loved him. It’s why he pushed you away.”

I snorted. “I’m too young, apparently.”

She took my cigarette out of my hand and dropped it on the dirt path and squashed the ember with her right foot. Then she placed her hands on my shoulders and looked into me, not just at me. “You are young in heart but old in spirit. That’s a good thing. It means that you will always believe in the possibility of love, but don’t you think you need to love yourself, first? I have nothing against a roll in the hay, that should be a requirement for everyone. But you won’t find yourself in the bed of another.”

A tear slid down my cheek, made all the more real because it was such a beautiful day. “Why did he leave me?” I asked.

Sophie took a moment to think before she answered. I could see her choosing her words, trying to convey her words as clearly as she could. “Because he was afraid. When you meet your soulmate, you have two choices, run towards them or run away. Francis made his choice and now you have to make yours.”

We stood there listening to the wind for a moment and I tried to let the thoughts that there was something wrong with me, that Francis left me because I was damaged float away in the wind. I knew that it would take time, those thoughts had hooked themselves deeply in my mind.

“Well, if he was my soulmate, then that’s it. There’s no other love for me,” I said.

Letting out a laugh, Sophie looped her arm through mine again. “Now if you believe that, you are a fool. A person meets as many soulmates in their life as they are ready for. Francis was your first, but there will be others.” She gave me a rare smile. “Now come, take me back to camp. I’d love another cup of coffee and I wouldn’t say no to something else to eat, either.”

Chapter Fifty-Four – 6 of Swords

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Personal Growth, Someone Else’s Life

Sophie was beginning work on a tarot deck.

She had gathered a few of her Pagan friends to be different cards. A lot of people wanted to be part of the Major Arcana cards, but I was fine with just being included in the deck. When Sophie told me that I could have my choice of the Minor Arcana, I thought about what I was trying to achieve on this new path without Francis. I had gone from being part of something to being alone and, though I recognized what he had done to protect himself, I wasn’t sure how to move forward.

“You’re such a Swords,” she said, describing the suit as if it were a personality trait. “You’re a writer and a creative like me and Swords are such a creative suit.”

I shook my head. “I just find them so violent.”

“They don’t have to be, it depends on how you look at them. You wouldn’t be the Ace of Swords, maybe the Two of Swords?”

I shook my head again. “Can’t there be another card?”

Sophie looked me up and down, wondering where to place me in her deck. After some time, she spoke. “How about the Two of Pentacles? You’re just starting on your true creative journey, so how about we give you some balance as you go forward?”

She had me dress in a white’s poets’ blouse and striped pants, as if I were some kind of circus performer. I took Sophie’s hand with my left hand, and I took hold of her boyfriend James’ with my right.  They had me get up on to a large tree branch and when I was balanced, they let go so that James could take the photo with Sophie directing him and making sure that he got the right shot. High up on the branch, I could see everything and everyone that was at the farm. Francis was the Magician card, and Lisa was the Star card. Jess was the Hermit and Fox was trying to be The Emperor, but Sophie wanted Fox to be The Hange Man, but Fox didn’t want to hang from a tree as James had suggested.

I had seen Francis walking around all morning and just as I stayed away from him, he stayed from me. I tried to keep my eyes from looking at him, but they were drawn to Francis and the surety that he conducted himself with. He walked around the grounds with such confidence that I was jealous of him. I didn’t feel nearly that comfortable with myself, especially with the storm that he had caused within me.

My eyes were drawn to Francis as Sophie and James helped me along the long tree branch. It felt like I was perched within the trees and I smelled the earth. I could also feel the wind moving around me. The day was hot and humid, and the wind was warm. I could smell honeysuckle and the ever-present smell of manure that was used as fertilizer from the farm next door. I could smell the leaves of trees and the mustiness that came from the shadows.

I turned away from Francis and the pain that he caused in me. I had tried to patch the holes that he had left in my heart, but I could hear the wind whistling through them. My heart sounded hollow, and I wanted to fill it with something else other than the withered heart that I had chosen to keep safe inside of a metal box. Looking out at the wide-open expanse of the fields in front of me, I let myself imagine the grass like a green sea that could take me somewhere else where I could let myself heal.

I looked away from Francis and what he represented and chose to turn away from him and toward what would come in the future instead. I knew that he had been my first love, but I knew that there would be others.

Sophie explained that I would have to balance on the tree branch on my own for a few minutes while James grabbed the shot from different angles and she made sure that I would be comfortable with that. The Pentacles would be added in digitally afterwards. I nodded and they both took their hands away. I followed Sophie’s instructions about how she wanted me to pose.

I let nodded again and put my arms out on either side of me to get my balance before I moved them in front of me. With my cerebral palsy, I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be able to stay on the tree branch, but right now, for this moment, I was holding my balance, and I didn’t feel like I was going to fall. I was surprised by how free I felt.

With my palms held open to the sun and my gaze on the sky and sea of grass, I felt like I was flying.

Chapter Fifty-Three – 5 of Swords

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide, Memoir, Someone Else’s Life, Tarot, Tarot Writing

I was so angry.

I was also surprised at the thoughts that were going through my head. Every memory of Francis was now tainted and dulled in my head because of what he had done. The fact that he had talked to everyone but me saddened me; the fact that he wouldn’t let me talk to him at all, that he wouldn’t talk to me at all, infuriated me.

I had been sad for days, but gradually, the sadness passed into anger. The water that had surrounded me slowly evaporated as the anger took over. There was a storm in my mind filled with hot shadows made from my fears come to life. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Francis and his form wavered as if I were seeing him through the film of heat from a fire.

As much as I loved him, I was so angry. I couldn’t bring myself to hate him, for who could hate their first true love? Lisa had told me it was okay to hate someone, but I took offense to that. My love for Francis still ran so deeply in me. I couldn’t stop the flow of my thoughts and emotions, even if there had been a dam put in place in front of the emotions. I had used my mind to place a barrier around my heart and the memories that I had of Francis. I made sure that the metal barrier in my mind was sharp and pointy so that it would hurt every time I tried to look at the time I had spent with him. It was easier for me to go keep my head up afterward and didn’t hurt so much to go on without Francis.

And yet, I would find myself taking out those memories and looking at them, even though I knew that I was hurting myself each time I plucked a memory from that metal box. I would try to look at the memories through a thin red haze. I knew that it was hurting me to keep looking in, but I wanted to see what I had done wrong. When did he stop loving me? I was so lost within myself that even though I kept going, I was stuck. I said this much to Lisa one night.

She’d brought home a rare treat. She pulled open her pack of cigarettes and presented me with a rolled joint. “You look like you really need to loosen up.”

“Why, I’m not uptight.”

“You are so fucking controlled, Jamieson. When was the last time you did something for fun? And you’ve been mired in the dark forest; I don’t mind telling you that. Francis isn’t everything, Jamieson. You need to stop beating yourself up and thinking of him that way. You’re everything.”

Lighting the joint, Lisa took a few puffs and passed it to me. I gladly took in a few puffs of smoke, hopeful that it would at least lessen the pain that I was in and soften the edges of the steel knives. I passed the joint back to her, and she took a few more puffs of her own. Soon, the joint half gone, we were both giggling like school children. My face hurt from laughing, having been kept in a frown for so long. 

The moment made me realize how long I had been hurting myself. I shook my head and looked at Lisa, her eyes large with mirth. “He really was a dickhead.” I couldn’t bring myself to call him an asshole like Lisa did on a regular basis since he had broken up with me. Dickhead was as far as I was willing to go. I still loved him. It hurt to admit this to myself, but I knew that my love for him would take a while to fade.

Letting out a laugh, Lisa said “Well, he does like dick, so it’s an appropriate nickname! I’ll call him that next time I see him.”

I didn’t think anything of it until a few days later. My pager went off, and I saw Francis’ number flash on the screen. My whole world seemed to pause and go still. I couldn’t hear the sounds of Lisa in the next room, or the sounds of traffic from the freeway near by. I stared at the number and wondered if I wanted to talk to him or hear anything that he had to say.

I was still wondering this as I walked out the door, lit a cigarette, and found myself at the payphone across the street. I put a quarter in and dialed his number and when the phone clicked and he said hello, the sound returned to the world around me. His voice could make me believe in any kind of possibility and I wondered which one I would find here.

“Hello, Francis?” I said.

“Hello,” I was surprised to hear the coldness in his voice. “Don’t you mean dickhead?” he asked. “That’s what you’ve been calling me.”

The volume of the noise around me went even louder. Francis’ words seemed too loud and his words felt like a slap. “I mean, I could have called you worse things. You’re lucky that it was just dickhead.”

“That’s what I am to you? I loved you, Jamieson. You don’t talk about people you love like that.”

“You do when they are being mean. You hurt me, Francis.” Even saying his name hurt me and I felt the pain in my chest, the swords clanking together. “I have a right to be upset after you did what you did.”

“I set you free, Jamieson.” I heard the click of a lighter and Francis took in a breath of smoke. “You should be thanking me. I’m not a dickhead.”

Louder than any other sound was the loud beating of my heart. I could hear it in my ears and the noise of it seemed to fill my mind completely. I thought of every other man I had been with, and I didn’t use my voice. My heart wanted me to know that I had one. I closed my eyes and watched as I took hold of one of the swords that surrounded my heart. In my minds eye, I held it out towards Francis.

Letting my eyes slide open, I took in my own breath of smoke. “You’re right, Francis. You’re not a dickhead. I believe that asshole fits you a lot better. You don’t get to break my heart and then tell me how I feel. This is on you.”

I hung up the phone before he could start talking again because I realized that what he said no longer mattered. I could grieve now, finally seeing Francis for what he was. It seemed that he had given me a gift in the end, the clarity that can only come from pain.

I held on to the sword like a dowsing rod and let it lead me back home.