Thoughts, Feelings and Desires as Inputs to a Tarot Reading
AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’ve been grappling with the subject of “confirmation bias” in divination ever since I encountered the term a couple of years ago. As I understand it, the cynical assumption is that seekers invest (some might say “infect”) the reading with their subjective hopes and fears, then don “rose-colored glasses” and see in the outcome only that which validates their preconceptions. I call this selective approach to interpretation “Bobby McFerrin syndrome;” it is considered to be a ploy of fortune-telling scammers who play to the insecurities of anxious querents by feeding them the equivalent of “Don’t worry, be happy” that is not coincidentally intended to keep them coming back for further emotional support. I’ve long felt that good spread design can help put this misleading “toxic positivity” in its place.
Here is a detailed spread that analyzes the progress of a situation in three consecutive phases: the emerging impulse for change; the triggering scenario (here called the “flashpoint” since it occurs at the intersection of Fire and Earth); and the reaction-and-recovery stage. The three “inputs” of the title (thoughts, feelings and desires) are cast in elemental terms as Air, Water and Fire respectively, while mundane attitudes and behaviors over the period are reflected by Earth. The goal is to infuse these factors into the narrative without allowing confirmation bias to hijack the reading.
It is composed of a seven-card line augmented by two four-card sets of “before-and-after” modifiers (a left-to-right primary Earth row and two secondary Air and Water arcs), and a vertical four-card Fire array that is perpendicular to the flow and provides leverage to the pivotal turning point at the confluence of Earth and Fire. Except for the four vertical cards that form a double-ended continuum converging on the critical juncture, these supplemental cards are not to be read as a sequence but only as sidebar commentary that can “color” the main theme. I originally envisioned this to be a medium-to-long-range life-reading spread, but it is suitable for any evolving situation that is expected to encounter numerous subjective variables of an intellectual, emotional, egoic and instinctual nature.
I’ve illustrated the process within the scope of an example reading, but I won’t go into the specific analysis of each card, only their interconnection. My question was focused on the next six months of life in a broad sense. I allowed reversals, and the overall feel of the reading with its majority of reversed cards is that more could be lost than gained during that time (assuming that the four-out-of-seven instances don’t just mean “covert operations”).
Visually, the most interesting aspect beyond the overwhelming presence of reversal is the contrast in card background color: most of the cards to the left in the “buildup” series are yellow or gray, conveying a pervasive intellectual equanimity and neutrality, while the cards to the right in the “aftermath” sequence are light-blue and black, imparting a sense of emotional distance or “cooling off.” (Rachel Pollack once pointed out that the 9 of Swords is the only card among the RWS Minor Arcana with a totally black background.) The middle column is diverse in this regard, although it does prefigure the restrained color scheme of the last seven cards. (As a random aside, does anyone else perceive this general pattern as resembling the “yoni-and-lingam” symbol that appears on the front of the RWS Chariot? The cards in the vertical array carry a strong sexual-conquest vibe; to steal a line from George Carlin, “You don’t have to be Fellini to figure that one out.”)
I found that reading the layout in four discrete sets offered the most useful perspective on the situation: the seven-card group consisting of the first three horizontal “progress” cards and their four modifiers; the seven-card array encompassing the last three “progress” cards and their four inputs (together comprising the “before and after” scenario for the pivotal transition); the five-card pattern composed of the “turning-point” card and its four vertical, above-and-below “feeds;” and finally, as a synthesizing summary, the seven-card horizontal line with all of its modulating nuances on-board. With that in mind, I turned to an abbreviated examination of the spread.
The cards in the primary row aren’t all that bad, just substantially diminished in vigor by reversal, while the main source of potential downfall resides in the central column that portrays the “Impact of Desires,” both ego-driven and instinct-based. They suggest wrestling with myself over some important — and risky — initiative. The 6 of Wands reversed in the thick of things brings to mind my recent observation that the fact of its reversal implies a “fall from a horse,” and the two reversed Knights on either side reinforce this impression, while the Tower and the Hanged Man above set the stage and the reversed Devil at the bottom pulls the strings in darkness as “temptation writ large.” The upright 5 of Wands underlying the reversed 6 of Wands hints at “fighting a losing battle.”
The four input cards on the “Emerging Impulse” or “before” side of the equation are uninspiring. The emotional quotient is flatlined as expressed by the undemonstrative 8 of Swords reversed and 4 of Swords (both elementally hostile to Pentacles), while the intellectual ratio is skewed toward suppressed feelings (9 of Cups reversed) and blunted ambitions (4 of Wands reversed) that are only slightly emboldened by elemental dignity with the “progress” cards. None of these will light a fire under the three Earth cards in the primary row as their mental outlook is estranged from the halfhearted pragmatism of the male Pentacles court (all reversed) and the low-grade banality of the 3 of Pentacles. There is a decidedly tepid quality to the modifying input that does not favor enthusiastic pursuit of the agenda. The four input cards in the “Reaction & Recovery” section are discussed below.
Of the nineteen cards in the spread, only the upright Sun brings a measure of relief, and it is well-placed at the end because it helps Judgement “clear the decks” for the rather anticlimactic “soft landing” in the reversed (and emotionally drained) 10 of Cups. While it looks like I will escape only vaguely incommoded and for the most part unscathed, I’m thinking along with T.S. Eliot that it will end “not with a bang but a whimper” as the upended “Change” card, the 2 of Pentacles, limps to the finish line with bad news that is tainted by the reversed 9 of Swords. The mystifying 7 of Cups further obfuscates the message, while the reversed Knight of Cups is turning back as Judgement tugs on his shirttail; he’s still bemoaning the “slap-down” of the reversed 6 of Wands and trying to figure out what went wrong. I think I may go into hibernation until March of next year.
Originally published at http://parsifalswheeldivination.wordpress.com on September 2, 2024.
