Good news all around…and the cards to back it up.

So I received my new Morgan-Greer deck the other day (gorgeous, vibrant, straight to the point) and decided to test it out with a few short readings. My first question: What will happen if I attend graduate school at Chatham? My first draw was the Ten of Cups, which was unmistakable in meaning: such a choice will bring happiness, friendship and fulfillment of goals. More specifically, I asked: How will attending Chatham for the next two years affect my relationship? To this, I received two cards: the Ten of Coins and the Fool. Once again, I was delighted to note a sense of family, union and relationship stability, coupled with a newfound sense of independence and adventure. Not too shabby. But I felt compelled to draw another card, to summarize the outcome for my relationship. I drew the World: a symbol of completeness, wholeness and (once more) fulfillment of goals. It eased my mind, and I can’t say I’m complaining.

On to reading number two: a general outlook for the boyfriend’s spring semester. Here, I drew the King of Coins: steadfast, financially stable, productive. A well-grounded, healthy individual with the means to accomplish his tasks. Clearly, this refers to the individual himself – but, naturally, since this is a court card, I wanted clarification. That draw ended up being the King of Swords (though appropriate, another court card) – a bit of a jab from my tarot deck, telling me to keep my cool and stick with the god damn card I’m given. Here, we have yet another master of his domain: this time, intellect. Here we have a man who reaps what he sows (symbolized by three strands of wheat wrapped around his sword), and knows how to solve his problems. He is strong of mind and efficient, able to tackle nearly any task with mental skill, determination and grace. Together, these two cards depict a strong-willed individual who can triumph over struggle and work through problems and make sense of ideas that carry him through life and studies.

Now, here’s where it got particularly interesting. I did a private reading for myself on a pressing issue I needed to deal with. I needed to ask my significant other a question – one I’d had in mind for some time – and was thinking of doing it the following evening. It was a rather serious question (not to mention one a girl is not conditioned to ask), and one that could forever change a relationship. I was afraid to do it, and wanted some input as to whether or not it was a good idea, and what I could expect. The card that randomly appeared on the bottom of the deck following the previous reading was the Two of Cups – a clear reminder of the situation at hand. I asked the deck what kind of reaction I could expect – what the outcome would be – and began to shuffle. Toward the end, a card leapt out of the deck: the Nine of Wands, telling me that I was close to something – a successful resolution, a goal I was trying to reach. I finished shuffling, cut, and lifted the one card that would assuage my fears: the Lovers. I nearly gasped, and breathed a sigh of relief, trying not to look too surprised – after all, the tarot knows what I’m thinking . . . we are one and the same. My next and last draw was the Nine of Cups: happiness and wish fulfillment. The best of readings I could have received, and enough to give me the courage I needed.

Now I know you’re wondering, did I ask my question? I did. And were the cards correct? Let’s just say I am happily engaged.

Oh, the things we discover…

Recently, it has come to my attention that one of my Taiwanese imports is, in fact, not exactly what I thought it was – though not in a bad way. I am talking about the ever-popular Miracle Tarot – otherwise known as the Fantasy Tarot. The two versions have mere subtle differences, but differences nonetheless. The Miracle Tarot (which I thought I had purchased) has titles in English and a typical cardboard shelfbox. However, it seems I have purchased the original Taiwan edition, which (like most of my Asian imports) arrives in a velcro-flip-top-folding style box covered in Kanji, with the only English word in sight being “Fantasy” in large letters.

How I missed this distinction, I can’t say – interesting, though, that a reliable source states the original Taiwanese import was of a lower quality card stock and contained an additional 15 cards whose images seemed to duplicate those of the first 15 cards in the popular Clamp X Tarot, based on the Japanese manga ‘X’. However, though my deck contains the same images and titles in both English and Chinese, it is of superb quality (sturdy and glossy) and no additional cards are to be found. Strange, no? My guess is that it is indeed the Taiwanese version, and simply evolved over time. In any case, I’d say I got the better end of the deal.

Awww. I ask you, what has Asia not improved upon?

The One.

For my first post (#1) I would like to discuss the prospect of the #1 tarot deck (very seldom the first). There are many reasons people collect tarot cards. Some are readers, and some are not. Some collect them for the art, and some collect them simply to collect them. And there is no one definitive person who collects, or reads, or muses on the system: some are religious, some are not. Some are Pagan, some are Buddhist, some are devout Catholic or Mormon or Islamic or Hindu or Atheist. Some are in between, and some are somewhere else – in fact, everywhere: Australia, Canada, Britain, India, America, China, the Czech Republic, and elsewhere. I have encountered these people time and time again since I began my tarot hobby 8 years ago. Some readers have thousands of decks, while some have only one.

When I started tarot, I had one deck, which lasted me a good couple of years. During that time, I used it often – shuffling, drawing, spreading, reading, musing, learning and loving it. It turned a dusty grey around the outer edges within months just from the handling, the kind of grey that makes a tarot reader smile and adore their craft. Smudges from oily fingerprints, no matter how often one washes their hands before use; faded streaks so multiple that their pattern becomes uniform and all that’s left is one. You know the faces of everyone in it, their personalities, their habits. You know their world and their thoughts. They are you, and you are them; you know they can be trusted.

I now have what is considered to be a somewhat modest collection by some: over 50 tarot and oracle decks. Not one of those decks, since the very first, shuffles like my Hudes Tarot. Not one of them has greying edges, a reader’s bend, or a heart to match. I love them all, for different reasons, each with its own aesthetic appeal. But I didn’t start collecting to collect. I, like many other tarot enthusiasts, began as a reader, and did just that – read. I only needed one deck. But as most will tell you – namely those cursed with the glory of the world of tarot and the Aeclectic Tarot Forum – at some point, it stops being about that one deck…and starts being about the one deck. The one. Like significant others, among millions and billions (or thousands, in terms of tarot decks), the one you hope will melt your heart and satisfy you unduly. We’ve all been victims, and for the most part, loved it. I admit, I still do.

Oh look, this one has gold gilt edges – just like a fine, old-fashioned book. This one is full of Da Vinci paintings – my word! And Klimt, and Botticelli! And this one has cats – I love them – and here, this one’s so lifelike…the people are almost real! Look at the colours in these…these masterpieces; they remind me of my childhood, my religion, my muse…myself. They all remind me of me. Here we have silver foil – the decadence! Fabulous CG, or my favourite animé. This one’s designed from fabric scraps – how clever – and this one’s based on blacksmithing! How do I choose? Why bother? They’re gorgeous. I think I’ll take them all. Wait, I’m sure to love this one. It feels so right. How could I not want to read with it?

And what happens? We wait, and wring our little hands, and when the package comes, we admire it, forget it, put it on a bookshelf or tuck it away in its little box – then find another that’s lustworthy. Sometimes we don’t touch them for months, or years; sometimes we trade them away. It’s filler. It’s pointless. There is no ONE.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t collect. I’m not saying we shouldn’t lust. But we should always know why we’re doing it. I’m tired of looking for the perfect deck – as with anything worthy of love, a perfect example doesn’t exist. It sounds obvious, but we do it anyway. Maybe the rest are all perfect to look at – and for collectors, that’s perfectly fine. But for those of us who want to read, contently and monogamously, the perfect deck is the one that’s acknowledged, tested, loved and used again. And again. And again. And again. Behold, the answers – the glorious answers! – the trustworthy faces, the little grey traces. The love, the connection; the usefulness. Don’t we ever get tired of being promiscuous? Whoever made progress not trying?