Wheel of Fortune
Blogging is like being on the radio -- you wonder sometimes if anyone is out there.
Either way, I love it, so I do it.
I also love cards. How they feel in my hands. How they crackle as I shuffle. Today I received a beautiful Tarot deck by Llewellyn. It is THE DREAMER'S JOURNAL, and the cards are exquisite. Unlike Anna Franklin who painted the 78-cards in THE SACRED CIRCLE, artist Heidi Darras created these cards online, using existing art work, and designing them through photo-manipulation. They are dreamy. I haven't met Heidi, nor the author of the book, Barbara Moore. I appreciate Barbara's musings over what a challenge it was to write a book of interpretations about such an intuitive deck.
But, I interviewed Anna many years ago. She seemed like a fairy cast in human form, her lilting voice, delicate bone structure. And as someone who feels a rush of fear when a card is reversed, I was quite happy to hear Anna say that she ignores reversed cards, deciding only that they may have a bit less power than they would while upright.
So today -- in life -- I had a reversal of fortune. Usually, a few hours later, I will notice there is a lot more good about such changes than I first see. There's the grief thing, the anger thing, the sadness thing. Those emotions flit about the surface, and must be expressed. Beneath, I am beginning to connect with Faith. Not hope. Faith. Deepak Chopra once told me that to hope infers uncertainty, and one must know that the desired outcome exists.
The Dreamer's cards arrive, and in my pensive state, they are just perfect. I shuffle and shuffle, and listening to the rustling, they take me back to when I was a little girl, and my grandmother was shuffling her playing cards. I watched her play canasta with her sisters long long ago. They were all Peruvian, and would chatter in Spanish. As her sisters passed, my grandmother had other friends to play cards with. Now it was gin and gin rummy. She taught me all three games. I retain -- loosely -- the rules for gin, which I play with my sons.
She was ruthless at the card table. I loved her enthusiasm. But when she and I were alone, and we were about to play canasta, she would shuffle and shuffle and shuffle, and I would pass under a spell. I don't remember winning and losing, I only recall that faraway place, dreamy, where she and I would play cards.
I pull a card now, randomly, from the deck. It is the Wheel of Fortune. "It is likely that the temporary chaos will bring good fortune in the long run."
Either way, I love it, so I do it.
I also love cards. How they feel in my hands. How they crackle as I shuffle. Today I received a beautiful Tarot deck by Llewellyn. It is THE DREAMER'S JOURNAL, and the cards are exquisite. Unlike Anna Franklin who painted the 78-cards in THE SACRED CIRCLE, artist Heidi Darras created these cards online, using existing art work, and designing them through photo-manipulation. They are dreamy. I haven't met Heidi, nor the author of the book, Barbara Moore. I appreciate Barbara's musings over what a challenge it was to write a book of interpretations about such an intuitive deck.
But, I interviewed Anna many years ago. She seemed like a fairy cast in human form, her lilting voice, delicate bone structure. And as someone who feels a rush of fear when a card is reversed, I was quite happy to hear Anna say that she ignores reversed cards, deciding only that they may have a bit less power than they would while upright.
So today -- in life -- I had a reversal of fortune. Usually, a few hours later, I will notice there is a lot more good about such changes than I first see. There's the grief thing, the anger thing, the sadness thing. Those emotions flit about the surface, and must be expressed. Beneath, I am beginning to connect with Faith. Not hope. Faith. Deepak Chopra once told me that to hope infers uncertainty, and one must know that the desired outcome exists.
The Dreamer's cards arrive, and in my pensive state, they are just perfect. I shuffle and shuffle, and listening to the rustling, they take me back to when I was a little girl, and my grandmother was shuffling her playing cards. I watched her play canasta with her sisters long long ago. They were all Peruvian, and would chatter in Spanish. As her sisters passed, my grandmother had other friends to play cards with. Now it was gin and gin rummy. She taught me all three games. I retain -- loosely -- the rules for gin, which I play with my sons.
She was ruthless at the card table. I loved her enthusiasm. But when she and I were alone, and we were about to play canasta, she would shuffle and shuffle and shuffle, and I would pass under a spell. I don't remember winning and losing, I only recall that faraway place, dreamy, where she and I would play cards.
I pull a card now, randomly, from the deck. It is the Wheel of Fortune. "It is likely that the temporary chaos will bring good fortune in the long run."
Labels: Anna Franklin, Barbara Moore, books, Deepak Chopra, faith, grandmother, Heidi Darras, hope, playing cards, THE DREAM'S JOURNAL, THE SACRED CIRCLE
posted by Diana Page Jordan @ 9:14 PM
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