What is the reader’s responsibility?

May 5, 2010

If someone asks or pays you to read their cards, then they probably think you know more than they do about what cards might mean, or how to make sense of a combination of them.

You may not be a Grandmaster of the Tarot World, but you are expected to know a bit more about cards than the local postman or the checkout person at your neighbourhood store. You have let it be known that you have an interest in – or an ability with – reading cards; that’s why the person asked you in the first place.

So you turn over a card – let’s say it’s the King of Cups, reversed – and the questioner says: What does this mean? You have to give an answer. You can’t say: Well, what does it mean to you? If they already knew what it meant, they wouldn’t be consulting you.

It can help to think of a reading as giving the weather forecast. You might tell a friend that it’s going to rain tomorrow morning. That is enough information. You don’t need to say that we will have one sixteenth of an inch of rain starting at 8.17 am and ending at 12.43 pm. It’s going to rain; the friend can figure out how he wants to handle the situation.

So, with the King of Cups reversed. You don’t have to specify that Bill, a friend since childhood, is going to come with you to small claims court, but at the last minute will be called in to work and so will let you down and cause you upset.

On the other hand, you can say that someone is going to offer emotional support but for one reason or another won’t be able to follow through. Or, if you ask for emotional support, you won’t be surprised when people say that they can’t help at this time.

This is valuable information for the questioner who can then decide how best to deal with his or her life and its lessons.

It’s enough for the reader to provide the outline or the template,  and let the questioner fill in the blanks.

Advertisements

One way the Tarot can save your life.

May 2, 2010

Since so many Tarot questions are about relationships, it is worth considering why we need people, and what they are in our lives for.

There’s love and company and companionship, of course.

Edgar Cayce points out, however, that: The faults we see in others are our own faults.

This is true. So when we get worked up about, or overly upset by someone else’s behaviour, and if we still have enough self-possession to remember his point, then we won’t blindly be led by our own knee-jerk reaction and blame or criticise the other. Our opinion of him or her may be accurate, but it is also irrelevant. We can’t change people to suit ourselves.

On the other hand, if we can turn the spotlight onto our own self at moments of emotional charge or crisis, we will discover that our image of ourselves is skewed or unrealistic or incorrect in some way that we ignored – or hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

So, we see bad driving every day and we generally ignore it. When we react strongly, however, and get worked up about other drivers’ behaviour, that is the sign that our own driving isn’t as wonderful as we think it is. At such times, we benefit if we get the point and focus on driving more carefully – and thank those idiot drivers for re-directing our attention to where it can do some good.

Seeing and accepting the truth brings peace, and relief, and release from the grip of the emotion or the over-reaction.

If we learn a lesson, we won’t have to repeat the experience (again and again and again until we get the point).

So with people: there’s no reason why anything that anyone says should upset you, and if it does, you’re seeing yourself but not recognizing what is going on.

Turn your attention onto you; figure out what you can and should be learning about yourself. This way lies freedom. The alternative is continuing to go round in circles, cursing a world of your own making.