Tag: The Ancient Egyptian Tarot

Chapter Twelve – The Hanged Man

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide

It was different living with other people.

I had chosen to cut myself off from everything I known by leaving home at sixteen and had everything taken from me a year later. I had thought I would have to do everything on my own. My brother had taught me that all you had on the streets was yourself and I had prepared myself for this. I hadn’t expected to be held up by so many others having been used to and ready to do everything for myself.

Dan and Mike didn’t say much, but they were kind to me in a detached sort of way. We would eat together in the mornings with Rainbow. I could hear the cockroaches scuttle away from us as we entered the kitchen and turned on the light in the morning.

“Scary fucking things,” Dan said as he looked at them click and clack away from us. Some mornings, it was like a small wave of them, fleeing from our step like a dark wave along the floors. “It’s like they just realized that it’s last call at the fucking bar and they don’t want to end up alone tonight.”

“It’ll be one hell of an orgy.” Mike said.

I let out a snort and Dan gave Mike a scowl. “Must you?” Dan said, making a gagging gesture. “Now I have to think about one nut Louie dancing at the bar, looking to get laid. I have to think about that often enough.”

They both seemed kind of exotic to me. It’s like they had this language between the two of them. According to Rainbow, one of them didn’t want to be out of the closet yet, but they seemed to be so comfortable with each other. Maybe that’s what it’s all about, I thought. Finding that one person that matched you, even for an instant. I looked at Mike and Dan and tried to imagine them as puzzle pieces; did they fit together? I tried to see if I could spot the lines between them, if they flowed together or if someone had forced the puzzle piece into the puzzle in the wrong place only to realize that it belonged somewhere else.

They had a cat. It was a sweet grey and white conk of a kitty, and she was a friend to everyone. I had never been able to have a cat of my own before and I loved cats. Thankfully, Squeak liked me a lot and I was so happy to have her company when Mike and Dan were around. She was like a mom to all of us boys and would help us chase away the cockroaches when she saw them.

It was hard for me to live with others. Even before I had found myself on the streets, I didn’t make friends with people very easily. I had been hurt so much in life, and I had to do everything myself anyways. I had known a few good friends, but that was it. It was easier than letting people in and I wanted to protect them from getting hurt. I was so used to thinking of others first and keeping myself away from them. It was what I had learned from my father. He had taught me to stay far away so that I could avoid a fist but to keep the peace if I could. I was taught to placate, soothe and provide calm so that I could step away and hide my wounds.

            Words were my friends. If I read and kept to myself, I didn’t get hurt. Plus, I could become friends with the characters in books and lose myself in their worlds. In these worlds, good usually won over evil or those that caused harm got their comeuppance. I have written since I was young because I had to. It was as necessary as breathing to me. As much as I lost myself in the word of others, I have always found myself in the words that I write.

Now here I was living with three other men and we got along better than just Shades and I had been able to. I was being given a different perspective of living with others that wanted to know me and didn’t want to hurt me. I didn’t need to pull myself away from them to avoid getting hurt. I wasn’t used to that. I had been taught to hide myself and what I was, that being gay and disabled was shameful thing, and yet none of these people cared that I was either. I felt the walls start that I kept around myself start to go down.

I watched the smoke from my cigarette flow out of the window pictured the wall around me slip away one brick at a time, so that I could start letting people in. It would take time, that it would be difficult, but I finally knew a truth:

If I let go of the wall, maybe I could finally be able to breathe. I had been holding my breath in fear for so long. What if I didn’t have to?

Chapter Ten – The Wheel of Fortune

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide

Rainbow was a consummate host.

He made sure that I was comfortable, and we became close. There was nothing romantic between us. Truthfully, it was just good to have a friend. I knew a lot of people on the street, but there weren’t many that I could call friend, at least not yet. It felt good to have a friend in a world that was so new to me.

I gave too much of myself away to other people. I had always been told that this was one of my failings. I couldn’t help it; I was hardwired that way, the eternal peacekeeper. It was the role I had been used to playing because it had been safer.  

I also knew when to keep myself safe and balance that with the role of a peacekeeper. I had put up a wall with Shades and I had been building it for a while. It was a way of keeping everyone happy and ensure my safety. I had been taught to do this since I was young. Growing up, there needed to be a someone to keep the peace with my father. It was easier than the alternative which happened all too often.

It was wonderful to have someone in my life who I could be myself with and not worry about romantic entanglements, protecting myself and trying to look for what was underneath so that I could see what the other person was hiding. Sunshine was completely himself and I had never known anyone like him before. I felt safe to be with him and didn’t have to hide anything about myself. I didn’t want to tell him my life story, but his behaviour towards me let me know that I could if I wanted to.

One evening, we were both scribbling away in our journals. He had given me a spare one of his as I had filled up my notebook, even with the extra paper. “I still think that my journals are going to be published some day,” he said softly over the music of pen scratching. “I wonder what kind of people will read them? Who they will be? Did you ever wonder who will read your words?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know what story I want to tell.”

He shrugged. “You have to let yourself live, Jamie. You think too much. I can see it in your eyes. You’re always trying to think past the next few steps, what comes next. It must be so tiring. You have to just live day by day. Don’t worry about tomorrow before you live today.” He handed lit a cigarette and passed one to me, lit one for himself. They were slim 100’s in a gold and black carton. I felt fancy and so literary when I smoked these cigarettes. They reminded me of black and white film stars.

I sat there looking at the blank page in front of me. I knew that I wanted to start a new cycle for myself. I also knew that I had been lucky to find Sunshine when I arrived on the streets. He had been a friend from the word go. I looked at him writing out of the corner of my eyes as I tried writing some words. He was completely himself and I knew that if I was going to make it out here on my own that I would have to look at myself in a different way.

I was not a victim in any of this. Though the place I had known as my home had been taken from me and nothing was like it had been, that didn’t mean that this was horrible. I had found safety with Sunshine and I had found my freedom again. I had left home on my own when I was sixteen and I been okay. I could do this again. I didn’t have to be afraid anymore. I couldn’t be afraid if I was going to make it and the thing of it was that I knew I could make it and that I had already made it by not going back to my stepfather grovelling at his feet for him to take me back into a house that had never really been a home anyways.

Looking down at the paper in front of me, I drew a door. I flipped to the other side of the page and drew an open doorway. The smoke from my cigarette made it seem like there was fog coming from within my words and all I had to do was see past the mist to find where my words had been hiding.

Taking a drag from my cigarette, I put my pen to a clean sheet of paper and let my words free.

Before

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in A Tarot Guide

My brother gave me my first deck of tarot cards.

We hadn’t spoken a lot since he had been kicked out of home. Truthfully, we hadn’t spoken a lot before that either. There was a wedge between us, even then. Looking at us, you wouldn’t be able to see it, but we felt it. It was a physical presence in our lives. I’m not sure it we put it there to keep us safe, or if my parents placed it between us for our safety.

I was still living at home. My brother had been kicked out for stealing, or getting into a fight, or mouthing off. My brother was a rebel, and I don’t think he knew how much I looked up to him. He’s my older brother by fifteen minutes. I joke about how my order was fucked up and I ended up with him, as if having him in my life is some kind of mistake.

The truth that I’ve been coming to terms with lately is that I didn’t talk to my brother often enough in the end. We existed in two different worlds. We had our own language growing up, but now, we don’t even speak to each other. The irony isn’t lost on me.

I don’t know what he did to end up in the shelter, but at least he was staying somewhere this time. Normally, he just disappeared, and I didn’t hear from him. It felt like a piece of me was missing. He would come back eventually, he always did. It was those times that I was left on my own that I was most afraid. My brother had a way of looking at life that I admired. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to.

To me, it looked like my brother was free.

I know that this isn’t completely true. He was free spirited, but there were secrets he carried, too. We may have had an ocean of unspoken words that swam between us, but he had grown up in the same house I did. I went within and Robert would explode outwards, his actions and interests his way of escaping and speaking without words.

I remember phone call. My father and stepmother had been out. Robert knew when they would be at work. I remember his voice on the phone and it sounded like him, but calmer. Hearing his voice was like a breath of fresh air in the cloud filled world which I lived in. His voice parted the smoke and fog that surrounded me. If I remained in the fog, I wouldn’t be seen. Hearing Robert’s voice made me want to be seen again.

“Come on over and see me,” he said. I remember this part, but not how I found the shelter or if I looked up the address first. I don’t remember how I got there, but I do know that I went to find him. I remember the blue drawer, the darkness within the room punctuated by a single light.

I remember Robert gathering the tarot cards off the floor. I don’t even remember if this is true, or if he had the cards gathered in his hand. I remember seeing flashes of colour and the hieroglyphics that covered the card backs.

“Someone gave these to me,” he said. “I think they’re meant for you, Jamie.”

I remember taking the cards and the book that was falling apart. They had been loved, these cards, whether by him or someone else. I wasn’t sure how he had come by them, but I knew that I was more than intrigued. I didn’t have the words to describe what I was seeing yet. Those words would come eventually, but for now there were the pictures.

Robert had given me a copy of The Ancient Egyptian Tarot by Clive Barrett. Robert had been the one to find the first Ankh that I wore. I wore an ankh all the time as a teenager, and he knew how much I loved anything Egyptian. I remember flipping through the cards, wondering what kind of interactive book this was to come with a set of cards.

I remember taking the book out and reading it on the bus back home. I would take the cards out again when I was alone, but for now, I read what I learned was the guidebook and let Clive tell me a story. I thought what it must be like living in a shelter or on the streets. It seemed a tough way of living, but Robert was free in a way. 

I had no idea that a few years later, I would learn what that was like firsthand.

The Ancient Egyptian Tarot by Clive Barrett

by Jamieson Wolf, posted in Tarot Deck Reviews, Tarot Decks
The Ancient Egyptian Tarot, 1995

I still remember my first tarot deck.

I was a teenager and I had gone to visit my brother. I don’t remember where he was staying at the time, but I remember the gift he gave me. My brother gave me a copy of The Ancient Egyptian Tarot by Clive Barrett. He knew that I loved everything having to do with Egypt and the mysteries that it held. “This looks like something you’d enjoy,” he said.

Never having looked at a tarot deck before, I was unsure of what to do. I followed the direction in the book, shuffled the cards, pull a card for myself and read the meaning in the card. That’s it. Though I loved the artwork of the deck, I didn’t connect with the deck, and I had no idea what to with it. Eventually, I gave the deck away to a friend.

Flash forwards a few years. The Ancient Egyptian Tarot had sparked something in me. I wanted to know more about myself and the world around me. I was drawn to the occult and the tarot once more and began to learn with the Thoth Tarot. Every time that I flicked through the cards, I couldn’t help but remember The Ancient Egyptian Tarot.

I began collecting decks and with each deck, I was able to find a piece of myself that I hadn’t known that I had lost along the way. As humans, we’re all made up of facets, different pieces that make up a whole. I began to find myself in the cards and the strength to delve into the facets that I was made of.

There came a time when my brother was no longer in my life. I began to think of the deck that he had gifted me with. I thought that if I was able to hold on to that deck again, I would at least have a piece of my brother in my life, even if it was only in spirit. When I contacted the friend that I had given the deck to, it was to find that they too had parted ways with it.

The Ancient Egyptian Taro, 2022

I began to look for a copy of The Ancient Egyptian Tarot. I was disheartened to find that it had gone out of print. I thought that shouldn’t be a problem. I looked everywhere online, and I found copies of the paperback book that had come with the cards, but no deck. I did find a copy on eBay, but I wasn’t sure it was a legitimate post and I didn’t want to shell out $300 for something that may be a scam.

I kept up my search throughout the years. It was always the same, I found copies of the book, but there were no cards in sight. I don’t know why I never considered Etsy. I figured that if the original deck was published in 1995 and the cards were long gone, chances were that the original creator was no longer making cards.

Imagine my surprise when I stumbled upon Clive Barrett’s Etsy page, and my further astonishment that he had made a new edition of The Ancient Egyptian Tarot. The only thing that it wasn’t available. When I messaged him, he told me that there were issues with the Royal Mail from England and to check back. He would list the deck when it was available to be mailed out internationally.

I checked this afternoon, and the deck was there. Only one copy was listed. Of course, I ordered it. I’m thrilled that after all these years, I’m this much closer to having a copy of The Ancient Egyptian Tarot. It actually seems unreal at this point.

It won’t be the same as having the copy of The Ancient Egyptian Tarot that my brother had given me, I know that. However, with it being a new edition of the deck, it’s my hope that I can form a new relationship with the cards, a relationship that I didn’t have and wasn’t capable of all those years ago.

I know that when I get my copy of the deck, I will take a moment to say thank you to my brother for that gift all those years go.