lesson 26: tension and progress

Nine-card box:
Popess (2), Five of Swords, Two of Batons
Pope, Queen of Batons (1), King of Coins
Three of Cups, Seven of Cups, Seven of Coins
Deck: Tarocchi ‘23, Gergely Bagaméry, Midnight Tarot

Couple notes: The link to the deck above takes you to Tarot Midnight’s Etsy shop, but it’s currently empty. Just FYI, at the time I’m posting this. But Gergely’s decks are wonderful, so when the chance comes up, get one one! Second, this is an even more discursive reading than usual and I did had have to pause about 2/3 of the way through, so you can sorta feel the moment where I have to work to recall what I was saying and the last third of the reading gets short shrift. But there are some good nuggies in here, so I present it to you—flaws and all.

Readings take as long as they take, it doesn’t matter what kind of reading it is or even how large the spread. If you’ve read this blog before, you know I can write hundreds of words on one card—so the theory would go that then it would take me thousands and thousands to read a spread this large. And that’s sound logic, to be sure. But what you may not know is that this is the spread I use for about 99% of readings I do, including the 15-minute-or-less ones I offer at fairs and festivals. When reading live, talking through the reading, this spread typically takes me from 10 to 15 minutes, depending on the topic, the deck, and the client. How can this be?

Writing a reading is so, so difference from speaking one. I’m of the opinion both use completely different parts of the brain. It’s an entirely different skill. I mean, OK, that’s a little over the top—it’s obviously still reading. But the way the brain navigates the reading is different. If you don’t believe me, think about the fact that you’re typically not typing while you’re speaking through a reading. Typing, if you do it comfortably, is a near-automatic event—but not so automatic that your brain isn’t engaging different muscles and neurons and shit in order to make that happen. Further, the thoughts you’re experiencing are being expressed in a different physical way: through your fingertips rather than your throat. The mind needs to keep a completely different pace when typing than when speaking—and, in fact, needs to keep a different pace from typing and handwriting. All of these are dramatically different, though clearly interconnected, phenomena! 

I’m far less likely to pontificate in readings when I speak them. Which is good, because pontification is exhausting. I’m less likely to digress. That’s partly an active choice. If I take a digressive path in speaking a reading, I’ll likely lose my way and forget the original path. This happens to me a lot if I’m not careful. “What was I saying?” Because my brain went on a jag I wasn’t ready for. This is less the case when writing because I can go back and look at what I was already saying—and because of that, I’m able to connect the dots better. That’s one reason I let these posts get so discursive. Tangents are fun! And they shed light on things, detail interpretations in ways that you typically don’t get to experience when you’re trying to stay on message. 

Anyhoo. This is all to say that readings take as long as they take, no matter the size of the spread—but much will depend on the way you’re delivering it. And as a person who is fascinated by the brain, I find this delightful. 

Anyway, we have reading to do. Stop distracting me. 

I haven’t used a Marseille-style deck in a bit and I typically don’t use the box spread for this blog—so I thought, why not do both? When I read this spread, the first card that goes down is the center (in this case, Queen of Batons), after that comes the top left. Then the rest go down completing the remaining lines. I don’t know why I do this, but I do and it works pretty well for me. I start by pairing the first two cards to get a base level, theme, or confirmation—then read the rows and columns, often but not always using lenormand techniques such as mirroring and knighting. 

This puts us into a reading where our first two cards are the Queen of Batons and the Popess. It’s worth pointing out that all of the people cards look to the right (which I typically think of as “the future,” for what that’s worth), except for the Popess, who looks to the left—away, to the past. There’s a tension here, right at the start, and we love tension in readings! We have two opposing entities: first, the fiery, enthusiastic, somewhat egotistical teacher and mentor—she’s spicy, she’s “known,” she’s got energy. And in this corner, we’ve got more or less the exact opposite of that: the Popess, who is secretive, aloof, stand-offish, with a tendency toward defensiveness. 

Defensiveness may not be a concept you associate with this card, and of course I have more negative associations for it than post readers. But allow: Popesses don’t exist. They’re not real.  Historically, in real life, it is an impossibility thanks to the conditions of the institution the pope leads. There are fictions, myths, and rumors—but no actual female popes. And yet, here she is in the deck!! WHAT’S SHE DOING HERE? HOW CAN SHE BE HERE IF SHE DOESN’T EXIST? “I don’t believe in female popes!” “Well there’s one right behind you!” The Popess is constantly having to prove she exists, and that makes her defensive. The second she encounters another person, she knows she’s going to be asked who she is, and she knows she’s going to have to tell them, and she knows she’s going to be told, “There’s no such thing!” So pardon her if she gets a little pissed. 

What are these two oppo figures up to and how do they set a theme for the reading? This is a deck with very little visual detail—one of the things I love about it is its immediate, bold, and clear images. I know exactly what I’m looking at right away and I get that pow of interaction. But that means I need to fill in the blanks, as it were. Here, I call upon what I know of these two cards. I’ve already given you a bit of a deep dive into the Popess and highlighted the main themes that strike me in this reading—in Marseille decks, generally, because it is in these decks where we have the most clear Pope Joan realness, and that’s when I’m reminded of it. Additionally, I associate this card both with gatekeeping, access, exclusivity, but also wisdom, protection, and safekeeping. 

I did a little number about the Queen of Batons above, but her Marie Antoinette-ish-ness in this image makes me think of her a bit as a dilettante. Which isn’t fair. I’m certainly not a royal apologist, but a lot of the nastier things said about Marie come from rampant misogyny, not only anti-royalism. The vitriol against her started well before the revolution. I’m not saying she was a saint, only that she was no more or less vile than any other entitled royal of the time and a lot of the criticism about her wasn’t about royalism, it was about the audacity of having been born with a vagina. And so, we might detect defensiveness here, too. And now we have two defensive queens (insert gay joke here), but who are defensive for different reasons and who manifest their defensiveness is very different ways. One, by cloaking herself in mystery and institutionalism and another with attention-seeking, creativity, and sex. And in this way, we’ve just discovered the main psychosis of all teens who grow up gay and Christian! 

Because this blog is about tarot reading, this “person” we’re describing—this bifurcated Betty—is us, the reader, the fortune teller. Torn between a fidelity to and an almost fetishy obsession with tradition and “correctness” (assuming the Popess wants to rule what popes rule, then what she’s ruling is a conservative institution) and a Lady Godiva-was-a-freedom-rider mentality, ready to throw off the constraints and expectations and gossip and judgment and just be the that bitch you think I am . . . kind of thing. Which I think is something that diviners face at certain points in our lives. The tug-o-war between tradition, doing things “right,” and the desire to break out and fuck around and find out. Even I, the most fuck-around-and-find-out fucker you’ll ever fuck with, has felt that. And sometimes I will use an old technique I’d long left behind, something “correct,” and wonder if all my fuckery has fucked things up and I should just doing it the right fucking way. 

Meaning: sometimes we (me included) find ourselves torn between tradition and iconoclasm. And this, I think, is a good thing. 

Let us expand our focus, though, and discover how the remaining cards fit into and shape this particular equation—shall we? In the top row, the Popess turns away from the Five of Swords and the Two of Batons. Ah! How very Popess-y. The Five of Swords is the ultimate pisser-offer of conservatism. It represents the entire revolution of thought process. The reason it seems to show conflict is because we find ourselves remarkably uncomfortable and even rather unhappy when we discover we’re in the throes of a major perception shift. And we cannot see the light at the end of the tunnel—which, in this case, comes in the form of the Two of Batons. What? Because batons are fire and fire is light, that’s why. Through the cage created by the Five of Swords comes a pair of torches showing us the way through. And the cage of the five isn’t even that cagey. You can get on through if you wanna. But you don’t wanna. Why? That two also creates an X—saying HALT! And reminding you that you cannot carry this mopey dopey Eeyore bullshit with you. Eeyore? Yes, my friends. The Popess, in this case, is Eeyore. Look at those Bette Davis eyes, baby. Look how she clutches her book and her key/scepter combo. “No!” she says. “Mine!” Pouty baby. (This isn’t always this card, but she’s giving tantrum here.) 

She rests atop her big daddy, the Pope. Is that why she’s so resistant to discovering something new? Probably. Do you know that friend who you just know would benefit so fucking much from going to therapy—and they won’t for some dumb reason, like they think their shrink will make them break up with their partner? And you’re like . . . “why would she tell you that unless . . . unless you thought you needed to break up with your partner?” That’s what she’s giving, here. If she knows, if she finds out, if she experiences the perception shift she’s avoiding . . . she’s going to learn the truth. And she’s worried (five of swords = worry, also) she’ll find out she doesn’t (the X of the two) exist (X-ist—little wordplay, there, leading to that—quite cool!) It’s a valid fear. I’ve found out I don’t exist before, metaphorically, and it’s . . . not fun. 

The middle row, where our center card—and the Popess’s nemesis (say that five x fast)—lives finds her flanked by two old fuckers: the Pope and the King of Coins. Well, well; if it ain’t the ever-lovin’ patriarchy come to wield their . . . scepters. And now we potentially begin understanding something new about the Queen of Batons, who I felt had so much freedom and fire earlier. She’s got ‘em, that’s for sure; can she use ‘em? No, because she’s hemmed in by the literal definition of patriarchy, and the tarot’s grampa (as the last card in the deck—who I’m normally not this mean to . . . it’s my significator, after all!) on either side. The Pope is like the neighbor who shows up and starts feeding your husband all that republican garbage that you have to deprogram from him from. He drags the King of Coins down into the conservative muck with him. 

Or does he? They are all looking forward, unlike the Popess . . . Actually, now that I look at the trio I’m aware of how the first two cards (pope, queen) are both holding weapons—seemingly to bludgeon the following card. The Pope holds two weapons! So what the fuck is going on here?

There are times when seemingly competing interpretations and/or metaphors can show up, making it hard to know which to read. I say, why choose? Read both. Two things can be true. We can feel like we’re in one situation while really being in another — that’s one possibility. We can be simultaneously experiencing the same event from two minds. Why limit yourself to one being true? What if they both can contribute?

On the one hand, this row suggests a fiery marginalized person being hemmed in by patriarchy; on the other, an old order showing up to murder the next—all three preventing any progress from being made and almost time-machining each other and the steps they made out of existence. Chaotic metaphor there, but hopefully it tracks. Here we have a situation where someone (us) may feel as though we’re just this bad ass progressive trying to break through all this old shit that’s holding us back—meanwhile we’re being hemmed in by these fogies, man, these squares. At the same time, we might be part of the chain of stuck-in-the-mud-ism in our own way, trying to bop-on-the-head anyone who might be experiencing things in a very different way than we are (coins vs. batons, in this case). Like, the desire to be one’s own “thing” is also somehow stopping someone else from doing their thing—at least without your super critical eye.

The “you” in this reading isn’t you as in the sense that you reading this are this kind of person and I know because I did this card spread. It’s you in the sense of an imagined “you”—an us, really—that is both you and not you . . . or me. Ahem. 

A third way to look at this is as a progression, not unlike the Triumphs that were meant to be in the alleged parade that was supposedly but isn’t the original of the tarot trumps. This happens, then this happens, then this happens; there’s the Snoopy balloon, there’s yet another marching band (sorry), and look it’s the Santa Float Sponsored by Whoever the Fuck Finally Bought Santa. The Pope happens, then the queen, then the king. In this progression, we go from institutional and dogmatic, to fiery and free and iconoclastic, to down-to-earth and grounded—perhaps, one might say, integrated  or engaged. . . as though the King of Coins transforms from, emerges out of, the queen—just as the Queen of Batons emerges out of the Pope. Again, weird visual, but there you go. And all of these things can be true at the same time because we contain multitudes! We can be progressing and holding ourselves back at the same time, we can be trying to bludgeon anyone who disagrees with us or makes us feel small, while at the same time understand that growing at something is merely the path of integrating all the things we learn into something we can use every day (coins). When we experience these kinds of dialectics in readings it can be frustrating. Which one is right? Try this: let them all be “right”! That’s not always the case, but sometimes more than one version of reality exists and you can see it in the reading. That’s not a limitation, it’s the ability to peel back the onion. (You can also let the client guide, too—though they don’t always know all the layers, which is why they needed the reading.) The point, rather, is that we see that these are all concurrent energies and really any one of them could take over. Knowing that we’re capable of (in this case) all three helps us then say, “ah, how do I make sure I’m feeding the one that yields the best outcome for me?” Which, again, is kind of the point of divination.

The bottom row, the first featuring cups, offers us a three (growth), a seven (introspection and/or luck) and then the seven of coins—offering similar qualities as the prior seven, but in the realm of earth. Growth is good, this is what we’re after. We’re talking spiritual growth, emotional growth, even divinatory growth—as the suit of cups could easily be the suit of divination (clarity) (though I would typically pair it with swords [vision]—so that we get “clear vision,” so to speak. But that’s just a little factoid I felt like sharing), here the cups offer enough context for divination—given that this is a blog about divination.  When we know (seven—the introspection) that we are really connected to what is truly important (seven again) to us in order for these growth to happen--but, and this is a place where order really can impact meaning, the fact the growth (the three) comes first reminds us that we’re already doing this. The necessary self reflection is going to happen because it’s been set up by the entire reading—meaning all the cards we’ve already talked about set the stage for those two sevens. If you were to lay out all the other cards in a row, using the order we laid these out in, the two sevens would be the final two cards and it would be maybe easier to think that way . . . but even so, that’s what this suggests to me. 


I normally don’t consider the nine-card box through that lens, but there’s no reason not to—especially because the shape is somewhat arbitrary. I mean, it’s not, it’s the shape I chose; but it easily could have been any other shape I use here, because this is also very impulse driven, anyway. 


So what this bottom row suggests to me is that everything that comes before, all the sorta self-flagellation and tugging-o-wars is fine . . . except you’re just doing what you’re supposed to be doing, which is moving through life and learning and divination by being where you are, evaluating what that means, and growing from it. In essence, this reading suggests that even when you feel like you’re at war with yourself and/or the rest of the divination landscape (or community, if you prefer to use that word — I can’t stand it sometimes), you’re really still right where you need to be and all the shit you’re going through is just part of the process of growing. We can feel at war even with ourselves when we’re learning because new information keeps coming in that should make us change our point of view. Like, that’s both the point of divination and learning! 


Looking at the columns quickly, the first (Popess, Pope, 3/cups), suggests that it is actually the marriage of our institutional and marginal selves, points of view, etc., that lead to our spiritual growth. And so it is by both learning and following the rules (pope) and trying to create some new system that we achieve divinatory/spiritual growth. In this trio, note how the Popess is taking on a very different tone than she did in the earlier conversation. The fact that she is now recontextualized with two different cards changes her, and thought she represented conservatism before, that isn’t the case here. The Pope, the most trad of all the traddies—just by existing—negates the Popesses reality, which makes her marginalized and now much more like the Queen of Wands from earlier. 


The middle column (5/swords, Queen of Batons, 7/cups) reminds is that our perception shifts are frequently achieved by following passions that really, really, really connect with who we are and what we’re most passionate about—the combo of swords, fire, and water can create an evangelical nature—but in this case, we don’t take that to mean fundamentalism; merely a deep, deep connection to spiritual depth. The 7/cups reminds of how important it is to be true to our values. 


The final column (2/batons, King of Coins, 7/coins) grounds us. Following cool shit that attracts us (2, attraction; batons, fire) is both imminently practical (king/coins) and necessary (7/coins, as important to our lives because sevens asks us to reflect on this.)


Clearly I’m doing the columns much more quickly than I did the rows, and I find with this spread that isn’t unusual. In this case it’s mostly to keep the wordcount down, but by this point in the reading the central message has typically been received and the remaining combos add nuance, shading, and advice. And if we already got the answer, why keep going? Well, no reason, really—other than that we’ve got the cards and the time, so why not? I’ve never gone deeper into a reading and found it made things worse. A worst, it just tells me what I already know; but at best, it inevitably increases my confidence in the overall message and explore it in a more layered way. What’s not to love?


A Read of One’s Own
Here’s a spread about exploring the tension, living there, and benefitting from it. 

Position 1: Where you currently are as a diviner. 
Position 3: Where you’re going as a diviner. 
Position 2 (between 1 and 3): The tension between them and how to benefit.

Super quick example: 
I chose Seven of Coins (again!) for position 1, The Lovers for position 3, and The Star for position 2. As always, I recommend three cards per position—but I’m being brief. Or trying to. It’s funny, though, whenever I use one card where I really know I should be using three, I can feel myself getting annoyed. One card is not enough context, dammit! 

The Seven of Coins suggests a divination that is focused both on the practical and the financial—readings that are interesting to and connect with the populace, as a way of winning the over. In essence, the introspection I typically see in the sevens moves outward . . . to, I guess, extrospection. Why am I getting that vibe? Intuition, mostly. It seemed sensible. There’s also the way of reading this where my readings are more focused on what’s important to me—but I know that’s not really true. There is the potential, though, for it to suggest my own world (earth) view being dominant, and that’s fair—because most of us do that. 

The Lovers almost suggests a more you centric approach — where my focus becomes less on the needs of me as a reader and my worldview, and more on the needs of the client. While Cupid, here, is of course blindfolded—this particular lovers card shows only two figures, and the arrow has already been shot. It hasn’t hit anyone. But what we do have are two people focused on each other. (See photo below.) The lover is focused on the partner, and so the focus may be shifting from me as a reader to the client in a new, deeper way. Again, I don’t think I’m a particularly self-centered reader; I work hard to make it all about the client, but what I think is a movement from the practicality of the coins to the more ephemeral nature indicated by the Lovers and the majors generally. 

Another major in the spread links the two, The Star. This is my direction card, so it’s fun to see it in the position of direction. In many ways, this card suggests example what the reading above—the lesson—did. You’re always moving in the direction you’re going on, so don’t worry so much about it .Tension is sexy and anyway you’re going where you’re going whether you want to or not, so go for the ride and don’t kick yourself around too much. 

Works for me! 

Have a great week.