(Note: I was clumsy and deleted the original post by accident. I managed to find the text again and repost it, but all comments were lost, I am so sorry for that! I had read & replied to each comment; they were much appreciated!)
I'd like to apologize for the depressing tone of some of my recent posts. I know it must be boring for others to read about someone else's journey in the dark... sadness and grief are solitary experiences, regardless of the amount of people you share your feelings with.
Because cartomancy is such an important aspect of my personal journey, I always try to see my experiences from the perspective of a reader. I believe that oracles like the Tarot and the Playing Cards are a symbolic synthesis of our lives... in learning from life, we learn about them. Cards gain new colors, new depths as our life is enriched by experiences, even when they are bad ones.
But knowing this doesn't make it any easier for me. I don't feel relieved or hopeful because I know this. Knowing things rationally helps you to maintain a drama-free perspective of the facts but it does not cure you.
The Four Queens wrote a very interesting post about how a person can get caught in asking Tarot the same question over and over again. I think we all agree that this is a damaging behavior. Usually brings no clarity or insight, keeps the painful subject alive and strong inside one's heart. Keeps one attached to the grief. Leads to stagnation. Looking back is important, but eventually one must look forward too.
As a reader I agree with all that she wrote. but as I sent her my reply, I realized that right now I am on the other side of the fence. In a sense, this experience of pain is helping me to understand what many people who ask for readings are feeling when they come to me desperate, asking the same thing they asked last week. I know because I have felt the urge to do this lately.... I control myself, but the impulse is here, inside me.
Some days are easier than others, but usually I wake up wondering why do I even bother opening my eyes. If this is the rest of my life, then please take me. It's a recurrent thought. Rationally I know my life will probably improve, but try convincing my heart of that. All it sees is a tunnel, with no light at the end.
I used to have a 'just move on please!' attitude towards other people's pain. I understood what they felt in a theoretical level and thought that I had to fix them. So I did all I could to help them to get better quickly and, when it didn't work, I became frustrated. Now I understand why it didn't work. My vision has changed; I have changed.
I understand now that when I want to ask the cards if he will return to me, it's not just about him. It's about me. It's a way of asking, will I love again? Will someone love me? Will I smile again? Will my heart be whole again? When I cry alone and let the memories repeat in my mind like a broken record, the tears are not just a tribute to his absence. They are for me. For my death, for the death of my innocence, for the death of my heart. I mourn his decision, but I also mourn myself. The self that I lost.
And now I can see this in others too. When they return with the same question, I feel their anxiety deeply inside myself and I know (even if they are not aware), that it's not just about the other. It's about them. They want to know how they can go on after being crushed. By insisting on the same subject, they hope that the cause of pain will magically cease to exist. Hopelessness does that you. It makes you feel that only a miracle can bring you back to life, and you hold onto that possibility of a miracle with all your strength. But that's not how things work. We must learn to give up of things we never wanted to yield, and this is a cruel lesson.
You don't simply walk away from it.
Perhaps the most difficult part in reading cards is helping the querent to see that. I am not saying that we must wallow in self-pity and never never take any steps towards recovery. But we have to understand that death takes its time... the blow may be sudden, but there's no mercy killer for the pain that follows. It's not helpful to simply assume the others aren't helping themselves and urge them to move on... even if it's the quickest solution, it it's not always possible. If their pain is real, then they haven't simply lost a person, a job, a dream, a situation. They have lost the hope of being whole, of trusting, of smiling again. They have lost parts of themselves.
I am not glad for what I am going through, but it has certainly made me kinder and more patient towards others.
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