“Give me a break” I told my Spirit of Divination.
“Merde! What is wrong with you?” she bitched back.
“All I wanted to do is take a god damn class. I was doing my exercises, not asking for your opinion.” I knew she was getting pissed, but I didn’t care. Why did she have to make every card draw a personal fucking affair, and a lesson in the universe’s clockworks? “You just couldn’t hold your long dead nose back, could you?”
In my mind’s eye I saw her French angular frown spreading around the pale oval of her face. Her berry-painted lips are sucking with disdain on an elegantly imported cigarette, while her thin bluish legs wrap in inhuman flexibility around their own core like an ashy bonsai experiment. Must be genetics, I say to myself, trying to shift my thinking from how upset she might be. And as a perfect loop of smoke floats into the tall bordeaux ceiling of the night, from beneath her shell-framed bifocals and a perfectly angular bob she hisses:
“Cheri, you’re either a Sybil, or you’re not!”
So today I joined a free Lenormand beginners class hosted by Tarosophy Tarot Town. I thought it’s a great opportunity to learn in a formal way. Most of my Lenormand education so far consists of reading blogs, playing with the cards, and trusting my intuition. I can’t complain about the results, but the class looked like a cool platform. And since I am still recovering from surgery and stranded in bed with no where to go, I downloaded the first handout as soon I was done with registration. My husband went shopping with our young daughter, planning on making a few stops on the way, which allowed me enough time to read the article and do the initial exercises in peace.
The main technique suggested in this handout is using one-word descriptions per card. And then, by combining two cards / descriptions, you come up with another, singular and inclusive meaning. So for the very first exercise I drew two cards from my Mystical Lenormand: Coffin and Fish.
The singular description I assigned for the Coffin (for this specific draw) was the word Cell. The Fish felt like Resources or Goods. After meditating on these two cards and their descriptions as a unit, the word that came to my mind was VAULT. The goods are locked down is a tight space under a lock and key, I felt.
I haven’t yet finished writing these impression in my journal, as I received a phone call from my husband: “Don’t freak out” — thanks honey, this opening really “helps” to stay calm — “everything is OK. The baby was playing with our automatic car keys.” I put her in the car seat, closed the door, and she pushed the lock button. Everything is OK. REALLY. My mom is on her way with the spare keys.”
“Wait a second,” I asked, “are you telling me our child is locked up in the car on her own and you’re looking at her through the window from outside the car, standing in the CVS parking lot?”
I said a few other things too. I won’t repeat it here though.
As I hung up I realized the pair of cards was still laying on my lap. Ironically this draw and my interpretation were right on. I wasn’t planning on a personal reading, but Spirit has a way of Her own. It’s not the first time I get a personal lesson in a pseudo-impersonal tableau.
In other words, the moral of the story, Mesdames et Messieurs, is that if say the Coffin card comes up alongside the Fish in your reading, make sure you haven’t misplaced your car keys. Chances are your toddler is locked up in the car, watching Yo Gaba Gaba streaming on daddy’s iPhone though the back window of the Mini Cooper.