AUTHOR’S NOTE: As I continue to create new tarot spreads, they have become increasingly complex because I’ve already explored most of the simpler approaches to spread design. An online friend recently commented that one of my efforts is “complicated but interesting.” I replied “Life can be a ‘can of worms’ and tarot is the perfect ‘can-opener,'” which led to this essay.
One caveat that those seeking a tarot reading should take to heart is “If you don’t want to know, don’t ask.” The forecast is as likely as not to get messy and there may be no way to tip-toe around it: as the saying goes, “It is what it is.” As a caring professional I dread this ugly scenario more than any other. I’m leery of opening Pandora’s Box when from all appearances not even Hope will remain, and that includes any hope of stuffing the uncomfortable truth back in the closet. Do I come across as brutally honest and let the sitter bear the brunt of that insensitivity? (After all, in my world they almost always shuffle the cards, so – at least subconsciously – they are solely responsible for releasing the demons, which I must dutifully enumerate for them.) Do I perform a narrative “tap-dance” that may be overly sympathetic and thus misleading in its attempt at compassion? (The typical client response to a botched affirmative prediction is an accusatory “But you said . . !”)
I firmly believe there is a “middle ground” in every reading but reaching it can be a challenge when the proverbial “can of worms” is staring us in face. One thing I’ve tried to do in my recent batch of tarot spreads is to present them in a form that always leaves a “way out” of any potential dead-end, frequently by providing alternate paths to different conclusions that are accessed by various interim steps in the process. I hadn’t thought much about it (other than seeing it as a novel idea) until I sat down to write this post. At least in my view, the opportunity for redirection of a discouraging trajectory should be built into the spread; simply piling on “clarifiers” (something that wasn’t done when I started out as a reader) in an attempt to explain away an unfortunate outcome has never been the answer.
As a “can-opener,” a tarot spread can resemble either a crude puncturing tool (think hammer-and-chisel) or an efficient implement with a surgically-sharp cutting disk; the former may be fine for a simple, three-card “Past-Present-Future” situation, but anything more convoluted demands greater precision in its extraction. Once we pry out the answer, the more detail that is available to the reader, the more room there is for a little creative “soft-shoe” in the interpretation. I welcome the flexibility since it lets me really open up as a storyteller (while nimbly ducking and weaving like a boxer the whole time).
When this topic comes up in online tarot discussions (as it does with notable regularity), there are always a few diviners for whom only the “naked truth” will do. In their opinion the cards never lie, so the only feasible option is to call them as the see them and let the querent sort it out. It seems to me that, while their vision may be impeccable, their delivery lacks grace; I’m reminded of the old Monty Python sketch about “being-hit-on-the-head lessons,” and I feel sorry for their victims. The seeker may have a legitimate premonition that life is about to take a breathtaking downturn, but I see little value in rubbing it in when the cards confirm that they’re right. As I approach this dilemma, the reader’s goal should be to look beyond the impending “collision with destiny” for the next chapter in the drama, even when all we can come up with is a clear-eyed (and ideally comforting) postmortem to the train-wreck. I believe we owe our clients at least that much kindness when the cards are stacked against them.