What do my mother's cards tell me?

Back in 2016, Drew and I took a vacation to Colombia, and while in Bogotá, I did a little shopping at the boutique of Mercedes Salazar, a jewelry designer whose work has become pretty popular here in the U.S. in the years since. One of the pieces I bought for myself was a pendant of a Chariot tarot card, which I wore as a talisman: Bring me success, bring me victory, bring me the rewards and recognition I had taught myself to fight for. Win some / lose some on that front over the last five years, but the necklace itself is beautiful and a guaranteed conversation starter.

If you follow me on Instagram (@eekshecried), you know that as my pandemic pursuit I decided to learn more about tarot, because I’m fascinated with all manner of self-discernment methods, especially as I try to detangle my desire for recognition, rooted so deeply in a childhood quest for attention and redemption, from the necessary work of discerning and articulating my own creative vision and finding the proper ways to honor it. I started with the Rust Belt Arcana deck and book from my folks at Belt Publishing, then incorporated this delightful Mushroom Tarot deck (a gift from the staunchest of the staunch, Liz) and for a Monday morning kick in the ass, the popular Mystical Mondays deck. And now, a belated Christmas present: My mother gave me her classic Rider-Waite deck. It’s older than I am, still wrapped in the silk scarf Daddy’s co-worker brought back for her from a trip home to India in nineteen-seventy-something.

I have recently found myself at a creative crossroads, and I really couldn’t consult any other deck than this one to figure out which way I should go. The book I’m writing is My Book, yes, but it shares a lineage with this deck. As a document and an artifact and, perhaps at some point, an object of discernment, its place is next to this deck.

Two columns representing two pathways to seeing this project come to life; five cards in each column. Both columns turned up pretty positive signs, telling me more or less what I already knew: that following my own intuition will yield the best results, and that either path has high potential for satisfaction. But I only drew the Star card into one column, and that’s what clinched my decision: This is how I know I’m ready for the next phase of my creative life.

Taking option B feels good — like I’m finally ready to believe in and advocate for my vision and voice. I might not be the best at articulating that vision in the half-formed abstract, but I am confident that in its finished state, it will speak for itself.

I don’t believe that tarot shows you the future; it’s just a tool that can help you understand yourself better if you are open to using it. Blah blah blah the answer was inside me the whole time, sure — but how do I shut out all the outside voices to hear my own? That’s a constant struggle for me still, and the meditative aspect of considering the cards’ meanings helps.

That success might come from staying true to my own vision, rather than contorting it to fit someone else’s, is still a revelation to me. That I have the right and the power define what success means to me, rather than an obligation to make my awkward chimera self fit into a single lane in order for the time I spend on my work to be validly spent, is still a revelation to me. That it’s OK to admit that deep down, I really don’t care about “achievement” and, despite all paper trails to the contrary, maybe never did — I only care about not wasting this fleeting blip of time allotted to me — is still a revelation to me. (I’m a late bloomer, I know!)

My big lesson here? Go back to the wisdom of the old decks, those that have seen some shit in their time, when I have big questions to ask myself.

What is your latest revelation? Did it surprise you when it happened?

What am I reading?

Mare’s Hair by Sarah Mesle, LA Review of Books: A close reading of Kate Winslet’s grown-out roots in Mare of Easttown, power and white femininity, and the political economy of beauty.

Pop Song by Larissa Pham: A beautiful collection of essays about escape, pain, intimacy, and visual art that weaves cultural criticism with memoir .

Hanif Abdurraqib’s Sixtyeight2OhFive project — I recommend a random click discovery strategy here