I used to be afraid of tarot. It was something that was taught to be bad, associated with images filled with dread and darkness in horror movies. A messenger of death, despair, and pain. Hence, The Devil himself. I didn’t know anything else beyond that it was not to be toyed with. Not be approached even as it meant a step closer into the gates of Hell.
This made me think about the card that freaks out Catholics, Christians alike, like me - the 15th card of the Major Arcana, the Devil himself. Yes, Satan, Lucifer, the Fallen, Beelzebub. After one turns upside down with surrender as the Hanged Man, then the transformation in Death, and the quiet contemplation of Temperance, when all seems to be in the clear, the Devil enters the chat. A disturbance, a ripple in the rediscovered calm. The murmurs inside your ear, the whispers in the dark of night, he comes to question your choices - it is right or is it really? The embodiment of the saying “the devil’s advocate.”
In the center of the card is the monster himself, enclosed in pitch black darkness - horns of a ram top its head, ears, eyes and face of a cat’s, sharp and alert, a beard on fire like no other creature’s, wings of a bat, arms and torso of a man, legs and claws of a harpy, the mythical half-bird, half-woman. A reversed star, or pentagram, a five pointed star, hovers in between its forehead. He holds a flaming torch in one hand. The other raised, pointed up to the heavens, palm open, bearing the planetary glyph or symbol of Saturn. He is crouched on a pedestal, looming over a man and a woman, horns growing on their heads, chained. But are they really shackled for all eternity?
I was in college when the first opportunity to come face to face with the tarot. But I was then a cash strapped student, also deeply anchored and fenced in within the limits of what I knew of my Catholic faith. I passed up on it, knowing that it was the right thing to do. I was afraid of something I didn’t know at all. I was afraid of the wrath of God and the security of my place in Heaven, which at the back of my head, I wasn’t truly sure of either. I have done too many not so great things in my life to deserve a spot up there.
Yet again, two years ago, an invitation to meet the tarot crossed my path.
I thought about the future of Heaven, my future. But, at that moment, I sure was in some sort of living hell - with the weight of an elephant on my chest and an intense desire to simply sink into the recesses of the mattress and expire into sleep, not awake to see the light of day again. I still did not know anything about it, except that I was taught it was bad. But could there be anything worse that what I was going through? There sure were worse things out there, but why can’t I seem to get out of mine?
The man and the woman in chains to the Devil. Are they truly trapped without the ability to escape? Look closely. The chains around their necks are so loose that they themselves could remove it. But how come they don’t seem to have that sense of urgency to escape their hellish circumstances? That they actually seem comfortable?
Because there is comfort in the familiar.
Catholics know that Satan was once an Angel of God. He was the Morning Star, who was banished out from Heaven because, well, apparently, he wanted to know more and be like God. No, be God. That’s what I remember growing up. But punished because he wanted more knowledge?
In Vedic astrology, Shukra or Venus is the representation of all these devilishly delightful comforts - beauty, luxury, art, music, pleasures among others. And yet, Shukra is also the guru or teacher, harbinger of wisdom for the asuras or what is loosely translated as demons. Venus is a pandora’s box, enticing, wrapped so elegantly, containing gifts of deep knowledge and truth, also the dangers of unbounded excess. Some say that Shukra is a guru for both devas, the gods, and asuras, demons. So can wisdom exist in both planes of austerity and debauchery? Do we not learn gems of insights from various forms of art?
I finally lifted the chains of these preconceived notions. I reached my hand outwards into the void of the unknown, paid a nominal fee for a tarot reading, and took a chance as my life depended on it. I was willing to take a step back from my spot in Heaven if it meant getting out of the living hell on earth.
The rest is history. I asked myself on why it was taught to be so bad when these were merely pieces of paper with pretty pictures on them. I asked myself how could something be so bad, but actually provide guiding lights in dark times. I asked myself on how could I pass immediate judgment for something I knew absolutely nothing about.
Why are we so afraid of things we do not know? We are afraid of starting something new. We are afraid of losing something we have. We are afraid of ending things because we do not know what lies ahead. Our fears are anchored on fear of the unknown.
But what if we tried to know? What if we take a small step? What if that small step was actually a leap into something much better beyond what we could imagine? Would you take a chance to let go of the comforts of the familiar and pass up on possibility?
Lucifer, I learned, is the Latin name for the planet Venus when it makes its appearance in the morning. “Lucifer Morning Star” is often spoken of, including in the Neil Gaiman favorite “Sandman.” It corresponds to the Greek name counterparts Phosphorus and Eosphorus meaning “light bringer” and “dawn bringer” respectively.
So why are we so focused on its darkness, when in fact it also can take us towards the light? Will we continue to deny ourselves of the possibility of light simply because we didn’t and refused to actually know?
May you find your light in the darkness this Halloween. Also, may you not forget your ancestors and loved ones who’ve moved on towards the light this All Souls’ Day.
If you’d like to read more about tarot cards and their meanings, head on over to what I’ve written below:
Major Arcana
Minor Arcana
Wands
Cups
Swords
Pentacles