In many traditions, nine is seen as connected to the highest (ninth) heaven, which is beyond the planets and fixed stars and the alchemists also considered that the harmony of the cosmos rested within nine spheres and nine muses. There are nine branches of the cosmic tree and in China nine-storey pagodas are popular. In Islam we have nine states of existence, Dante talks of nine orders of Angels, and in other areas such as China and Mexico we find nine rivers of the underworld (in the former these are manifested as a nine-headed dragon). There are many more ramifications of nine in Chinese mythology, including nine openings of the human body. The Mongols and Turks also cite nine as important - for instance, the Great Mongol Khan had nine standards before which people had to prostrate themselves nine times.

Nearer home, old Celtic and Germanic law referenced nine: our current leasing system - based on 99 or 999 years - may reflect an ancient legal time-limit (ownership of real estate ends in the 9th generation). We still say ‘a stitch in time saves nine, and ‘togged up to the nines’). There may be some connection with witchcraft, as on Walpurgisnacht (Beltane, 1st May), witches are thought to travel to their meeeting in the mountains of Germany in chariots drawn by 99 cats.

In healing, a charm or ritual act was often repeated nine times, blessings were given over nine different herbs to counter demons and poison; and the number occurs in many fairy tales and myths; for example, the River Styx in Greek mythology has nine curves, and major feasts were held to honour Apollo every nine years. Roger Bacon, a renowned philosopher in Elizabethan times, considered that the ninth house was about wisdom and good fortune; which is why nine has often been connected with good luck.

More pertinent to the Tarot, in Norse myth Odin was said to hang on his tree for 9 days and nights, learning nine songs. (This of course is one of the underlying myths of the Hanged Man - though he is usually numbered XII.) In fact, in Tarot terms, IX (nine) is the number of the Hermit.

The slightly ambivalent feel seen in the above is reflected in The Hermit, the first of the Major Arcana to turn inward, into solitude and contemplation. Jung considered that this inner journey would be taken only by people over 40 - anyone younger might not have sufficient maturity. Today it is apparent that age is relative and some youngsters - the lucky ones, perhaps - find that dark path in their late teens, trying to come to terms with their lives.

The message of the Hermit is that life is at a tipping point - the Nine propels us into a new state, but to get there we have to go down into silence and questing. In the west the widespread practice of withdrawing from society in order to pray and contemplate has largely died out, but the need to connect with our inner selves is still felt. Often our unconscious prompts us to follow this path: it is a small voice, but an insistent one, manifesting as a deep, apparently irrational, need; or synchronous messages from the universe. We ignore them at our peril!

In the Minors, the ambivalence is continued. The Nines are a very mixed bag.

The Nine of Cups and Discs (Pentacles) are about happiness and abundance, the Nine of Rods is about strength but also vulnerability; while the Nine of Swords depicts the dark night of the soul - a time of soul-searching, lack of faith, and depression.

Perhaps we should see this ambivalence as paradox, instead; in that we cannot experience happiness deeply, without also being able to experience sorrow and loss of faith. Without the dark night of the soul, we can never really understand the wonders of happiness. We tend to think of children as bubbling over with joy and happiness, untouched by doubts and depression, but this is a slightly sentimental view of childhood. The fears and dark feelings that young babies and children experience are very real and immediate. They have not learned to block such feelings; to protect themselves with emotional and body armour. As adults, we protect ourselves against the world (the Nine of Rods), trying not to be seen as vulnerable - forgetting that we are probaby easily read by anyone with insight.

Six

Six was seen by the Neoplatonists as the perfect number, as it has a wonderful symmetry. It is formed by either adding or multiplying 1, 2 and 3; the product of the first male and female numbers (3 and 2), and contains all geometric figures – point, line and triangle.

In biblical terms God was said to have created the world in six days, resting on the seventh. The seraphim were said to have six wings, and in Revelations, six angels blow trumpets to announce the Last Judgement. (The seventh will blow when the divine Mystery is finally revealed.)

In Zoroastrianism we find six ages of creation, related to the six supreme angelic entities (the Amesha Spentas). Again, this figure is completed by the seventh, supreme being, Ahura Mazda.

Returning to geometry, the square acquires volume to become a six-sided cube with six sides. However, the platonic solid most emulated in nature is the hexagon, as seen in beehives and snowflakes – not surprising, when you consider that its shape multiplies into a structure of amazing economy – and infinite complexity.

In Hermetic and Vedic traditions, the six-pointed star comprises two combined triangles, one facing up, the other down – symbolising the male and the female respectively. The Indians see this as the union of Vishnu the creative, and Shiva the destructive forces of the material world. Thus the hexagram can be seen as the union of opposites.

In tarot terms, this union is reflected in VI, The Lovers. In the Visconti-Sforza deck the union was literal – a marriage, with a blindfolded Cupid hovering over the lovers. In later packs, however, the lovers have been joined by a second woman and now seem to represent the judgement of Paris, where Paris is asked to judge the relative beauty of three goddesses, Athena, Aphrodite, and Hera. With Cupid, Aphrodite’s son, floating around above them, the result is a foregone conclusion, and Aphrodite rewards Paris by giving him Helen, the most beautiful woman in the world, as his wife (it doesn’t seem to bother her that poor Helen is already married to Menelaus, and that her decision causes the Trojan war). The Lovers becomes a choice between lovers, or between mother and lover. In the Intuitive Tarot, shown here, the choice is one of maturation. Do the lovers stay joined in their symbiotic, slightly limiting relationship, or do they pull apart? The dark figure in the background is Conscience, or the super-ego, who incites us to move out of comfort into growth.

The Minors reflect different aspects of the number. The Six of Rods (or Wands) is a card of triumph, the victor returning home from the war or, in the Intuitive Tarot, the moment when we realise that all our hard work has been vindicated and we have attained the success we’ve worked for. The Six of Swords promises that the harbour is just around the corner after a long, difficult journey. Discs is a card of generosity – money or gifts being offered and received, again the reward of justified success. Finally, Cups suggest a last look back – of nostalgia and gratitude that we have moved on from the past and can now begin to build a new future.

Sevens

Seven - the heptad - has long been considered a powerfully magical number - the seventh child of the seventh child, the seven-year itch; or the seven ages of man, for example. Arabic philosophers also considered that human development could be seen in 7 years stages, while medieval hermeneutics referred repeatedly to the interaction/union of the spiritual numeral 3 - which often referred to mind, body, spirit - and the material 4 (air, fire, earth, water). The bible also often refers to the number 7 in dreams (Pharoah’s dream of the seven kine). The Pseudo-Hippocrates text says ‘The number 7 … tends to bring all things into being. It is the dispenser of life and is the source of all change, for the moon itself changes its phases every 7 days.’ (quoted in The Mystery of Numbers by Anne Marie Schimmel).

This brings us close to the innate power of the number: the seven days of the week, and the lunar cycle of 28 days (7 x 4). In ancient and medieval times there were thought to be seven planets (including the Sun and Moon), which were seen as part of the seven heavenly spheres with God in the centre. The Babylonian ziggurat had 7 storeys, while the Tree of Life had 7 branches. This is also seen in the 7 branches of the Menorah, the oldest symbol of Judaism. The Egyptians considered there were seven paths to heaven, seven halls of the underworld, and seven heavenly cows. The Mayans, meanwhile believed in a 7-layered sky.

The power in this number is perhaps the reason that the the seventh Major Arcana, the Chariot is seen as such a potent figure - Apollo, controlling the sun in its passage across the skies; Mars, the god of war; or Indra, the Indian sky god, riding his fiery chariot and wielding a thunderbolt. The Chariot appears as an indicator of will and determination, the ego in all its glory. Today, we see the Charioteer as Phaethon, son of the Sun, young and arrogant, who persuades his father Helios, the Sun, to let him drive the solar chariot across the sky unaided, but then loses control of the fiery steeds and plunges to his death. Thus underlying this card is the idea of passion and youthful ego which accepts no limitation, but cannot always fulfil its ambition. Most modern packs show the Chariot holding the reins of one black steed (the unconscious) and one white (the conscious). The intimation here is that to achieve what you want in the outside world, you must utilise both conscious and unconscious minds. If you are unaware of this dichotomy, you may well find that you end up grounded, burnt out, and wondering what on earth happened.

In the Minors, the Sevens are predominantly optimistic and aspirational. In the Rider Waite pack the Seven of Cups is usually read as the danger of dreams turning to delusion, but in the Intuitive Tarot the focus is more supportive - it shows one dark, and one light figure looking down at six small cups contained within a translucent figure-of-eight (the …, usually associated with infinity). Above them, a large goblet with a rising sun appears as a Grail vision. When this card appears it is often because the client needs to reconnect with their most inspiring dream - which I usually see as the work they were sent to earth to complete. Many - if not most - people have forgotten their dreams and settled for second or third best (the small cups at the bottom). But if they stop looking at limitation and start allowing themselves to hope once more, they can achieve more than their wildest dreams.

The Seven of Rods shows a figure climbing out of the constricting palisade around his life, reaching out for a stave that moves high above him. Behind, soft greens suggest a lovely landscape or wood. In the Rider Waite, the Seven shows the winner in a battle; here, the focus is more about the opportunity to reach up and out of the limitations of an old life. Similarly, the Seven of Swords indicates someone looking out on an alien landscape, while in a cave nearby lie seven swords (depicting his intellectual strengths and abilities). Right beside him a huge, sinuous pillar of smoke rises to the sky, though the figure seems oblivious. The interpretation is of a situation that requires ingenuity, subtlety and firm resolve - some new challenge which needs cunning and strategy.

The Seven of Discs, in contrast, shows someone resting after their labours, watching the energy around two opposing geometric shapes on the horizon. A well-needed rest, or time to take stock (or even, the detached observer watching a war of words). If the card is reversed it may mean that there is a danger of apathy or inability to make decisions.

Eights

Eight has been considered an auspicious number from antiquity. It was thought that beyond the seven planets, there was an eighth sphere - that of the stars. As early as Babylonian times, the number was seen as connected to the gods (the god was said to reside on the 8th floor of the ziggurats). In addition the eight-pointed star represented the goddess Ishtar (the Great Goddess) - this figure and the octagon were appropriated by the Jews and later the Christians. The Jews still consider the eighth day one of purification and circumcision; thereafter the Christians took the idea of purification into regeneration, Christ resurrecting on the eight day of the Passion. This is the reason many baptistries are octagonal.

Mithraic rites talk of a mysterious eighth gate beyond the 7 main gates; which appears to promise a fast-track to paradise. The Muslims believe there are 7 hells and 8 paradises, with 8 angels who carry God’s throne, while both Chinese and Buddhists see the number as highly fortuitous: the eight symbols of Buddhism, and Confucious’ eight precious items.

The sign for infinity, , is an eight rotated 90 degrees. Its name - the lemniscate - comes from the Latin lemniscus, meaning “ribbon”. This can be seen as an indicator of spiritual power in, for example, the Rider Waite cards The Magician and Strength.

Doubling numbers is seen as doubling their power, thus doubling 4 (the number of the well-ordered material world) we find eight winds, eight pillars of heaven, and - i China - the eight ages of man. This may explain the 8 x 8 = 64 structure of the I Ching. In Norse mythology we find Odin’s horse Sleipnir with eight legs - perhaps doubling its speed.

In tarot terms, the number eight is usually auspicious. In the Rider Waite deck, Strength is numbered 8, which might explain why the woman depicting Strength has the lemniscate above her head. Waite said that there were good magical reasons why he reversed the numbers between Justice (RWS 11, usually and Strength (RWS 8, usually 11) - although he didn’t explain them. We will take the traditional numbering and look at Justice - which, as an integral sense of balance, clarity of vision, and the ability to act with integrity and a sense of rightness, is a good fit with the poised balance of the numeral 8. Given that Justice is about divine justice as well as human justice, the Hermetic principle of ‘as above, so below’ is also relevant.

In the Minors, eight is mostly auspicious: for example the suit of Discs is about carving out a career in something you love dearly. Here the sculptor lovingly carves his eighth wheel which will adorn the ziggurat behind him. It’s about dedication and focus, manifested in the world. The Eight of Rods is seen as optimistic striving - lots of ideas, speed, moving towards a goal, the start of a journey, the end of delays. The Eight of Swords suggests letting go of the old tapes we play continually in our heads - we limit ourselves and you would think that if we could see the detrimental effect it has on our lives, we would drop the rope that binds us immediately! Finally, in the Eight of Cups, we see a figure moving slowly away from the eight cups that have supported him emotionally - a relationship or career which has outgrown its usefulness perhaps, or just the inner knowledge that it’s time to move on. Whatever the tree represents, it’s now pretty much dead - and the moon and star beckon you on into a more connected life. The idea of change and even resurgence is an underlying message here.

Nowadays we’re ill served by our teachers where numbers are concerned. The Greeks saw them as mystical symbols, their significance far greater than our limited view today. It’s thought the use of numbers could date back to 30,000 BC or indeed far earlier - this piece of ochre shows a regular pattern which could possibly have been for notation, and it dates from 70,000 years ago.

(from The Mind in the Cave, David Lewis-Williams, 2002)

The earliest system we know about is that of Babylon - after the first unit of 10 (based presumably on the ten fingers) the second unit is 60 - which still survives today as our time-keeping seconds, minutes and hours. The Greeks took the whole issue of numbers as a philosophical question, particularly with regard to the vexed question of 0 (how can ‘nothing’ be something?, or vice versa). When I was about 16, I learnt a bit about the Pythagorean system, which centres around the idea of order - musical order, mathematical order, the order of the cosmos; and looking at combinations of numbers made sense on some deep atavistic level. Unfortunately I lost the sense of that deep meaning soon after (O level ‘education’ intervened), but more recently I have come to feel that just as I work with the images, the meaning of the number on the card can be intuited. Some of that intuitive ‘feel’ comes from received wisdom - the numbers have had significance since ancient times.

In medieval times numbers were seen as extremely important. Numbers were used as religious symbols, with medieval scholars - Arab, Christian, and Jewish - looking at the correspondence and significance of numbers. Augustine’s book City of God, for example, was consciously divided into 22 sections, to relate to the 22 letters of the Hebrew alphabet (and - later - with the kabbalah, the esoteric Hebrew tradition).

In the Tarot, we often take for granted the fact that the Fool is 0 (or unnumbered) and therefore both nothing and something. But if we stop for a second, the significance of this paradox becomes plain: the Fool is exactly that - both nothing and something, and he disturbs and destabilises because of that. He is the edge, and when we see him we realise we have to jump over the cliff into his realm. If we refuse to follow him into the void, we become a cipher, a two-dimensional mark. If we choose to follow him, though, we have to give up control, we have to accept that maybe we may all be mad fools - and that maybe we know nothing. Stay with the feeling of the numeral, the fact that it is whole, complete. What else does zero mean to you?

Ones (Aces) - well, unity, new beginnings, the number of the primordial being or Divinity, unchangeable, stable and yet mysterious. Ones were seen as the unity behind physical manifestation, and the elemental energy - of fire, earth, water and air - is felt most keenly in the Ones. In the Rider-Waite based tarot, each Ace offers a different elemental gift - fire (Wands), earth (Pentacles), Water (Cups) and Air (Swords). The One permeates every number, and shows beginnings and leadership. The One’s quality is encapsulated in the Magician, no. One in the Major Arcana.

In the Intuitive Tarot, the elements are configured differently. If you want to get in touch with your passion, work through the One of Swords, using intellect to keep passion in check, but also to harness passion to idea. The One of Rods reaches high into the universe to generate the bubbling of creative inspiration; it is strong, generative, vibrant. The One of Cups is the Grail; reaching deep down into the wellspring of love and grace, it rises through different levels of conscious feeling into a connection with the divine. Last but not least, the One of Discs (Pentacles), representing in geometric format aspects of physical reality: the universe with deep space, nebula, stars, and, nearer to the centre, the sun and its planets. Right in the centre we see the symbol for masculine and feminine. For me, the discs are about energy and manifestation.

Twos are about polarity and division, instability and choices. However, It is also about relationship (which arguably may explain why so many relationships are characterised by their unstabile, divisive quality - though in my personal opinion that’s mostly due to projection). The dyad holds a central position in every aspect of life - the tension between I and Thou, which can be transformative and illuminating. The relationship between male and female has been the subject of intense scrutiny no doubt since we first became human! The Chinese Book of Changes - the Tao - has at its centre the symbol of Yin and Yang, while the alchemists considered the unification of male and female principles to be the core of the transmutation of base metals into gold.

In tarot terms, then, the Twos show both transformative and divisive qualities. In The High Priestess we see the highest aspect of the number, its ability to hold the tension between I and Thou, mentioned above. The ability to see into the depths of the unconscious, as well as mediating through the conscious mind in the outside world (symbolised by the two pillars, one dark, one light). And the connection with spirit and body: the High Priestess connects with intuition through her body - as shown by the egg with its ankh, the snake, and the moon. She holds the tradition of the Delphic Oracle, the Cumae, and the Eleusinian Mysteries: the priestesses of ancient times who understood life and death, past and future.

The Two of Cups is about the beginning of relationship - the passion and openness between two people which may lead to long-term love. It’s idealistic, beautiful, and can be a bit off-centre - one partner giving much more than the other. The Two of Rods is often about the beginning of a new project, and is more about the potency of creative inspiration. Perhaps we could see it as the relationship between ourselves and our muses! In the image here the figure on a hill or stage is looking intently into a lit globe - inspiration? a new idea? and perhaps communicating this idea to an audience. The instability comes in with the fears and uncertainties we all encounter when we face making our ideas manifest in the world.

The Two of Swords shows a monk-like figure holding two swords firmly, points in to the centre. Each sword represents two different aspects in his life with their own dynamics, their own needs. His task is to hold those dynamics together until one day the answer comes - the bright light. So while it may be about choices, it’s mostly about not rushing into one or the other option.

Finally, the Two of Discs is about choice. Here the figure, somewhat bemused, looks into two whirling discs. His choices seem very similar and he can’t decide between them. However, emerging from the two discs we see a heart, and perhaps the answer is to make the decision his heart is calling for.

Threes (2 October 2009)

My apologies for the ‘break in transmission’ - I have been away in Africa which turned out to be a fairly difficult journey; when I returned I was rushing around, looking for costume jewellery, hip scarves, and harem trousers, to make up a Moroccan outfit for a tarot party - in the event I sewed a lot of it myself! And - for all those activities - the Threes of the Minor Arcana are particularly apt: the Three of Swords is about confusion and heartache; the Three of Cups is celebration; Three of Discs relates to financial situations and work; and the Three of Rods is about creativity.

Three is a stable number: whereas Two is always about imbalance and constant attempts to integrate the differences, Three has found some sort of synthesis. Three doesn’t negate the dualities, rather it represents a new element which enables us to transcend our difficulties. In many traditions it is seen as a sacred number, in terms of the One expanding itself into creation. Lao-Tzu, for instance, says ‘The Tao produces unity, unity produces duality, duality produces trinity, and the triad produces all things’. The druid triads (a series of wise statements) were (naturally enough) based on three. E.g.: it is said that the three tasks of a Druid are ‘to live fully in the present; to honour traidtion and the ancestors; to hear the voicie of tomorrow’.The Hiindus have the great triad of Brahma the creator, Shiva the destsroyer, and Vishnu the sustainer; the ancient Babylonians worshipped the Sun (Shamash), Moon (Sin), and Venus (Ishtar), while Christianity, of course, has the Trinity: God, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The Buddhists have a threefold classification of words called the trikaya, or ‘3 bodies’ of the Buddha, 3 sources of salvation (Buddha, dharma, and samgha) - and so on.

Once you start looking at the triad, you find it cropping up everywhere - in fairy tales, in myth, in society. Three people are seen as suitable to make decisions, to worship, to form a crowd - Aristotle points out that 3 is the first number to which ‘all’ applies. It is also the first number which forms a ‘three’ dimensional form - one we can see in the world.

This sacred aspect of the Three is shown in its creative aspect in the Three of Wands or Rods: creativity, which produces a wonderful synthesis (seen here as the Philosopher’s Stone, a beautiful egg-shaped object the figure in the card has made), out of which forms a double helix, winding around the staves at the top of the card. Celebration, partying, relationship, interwoven destinies are seen in the Three of Cups: so my tarot party, which was a Baby Shower to celebrate various babies births, christenings, and imminent arrivals, is very appropriate. Discs - usually about work, society, and our place in it; the work may not be the most inspiring, but it does have a certain structure and stability to it. Finally, the Three of Swords - which perhaps can be seen as showing the travail that we often need to endure in order to overcome difficulty. It shows a conflict between head, heart, and body (or soul); often the heart feels like it is turning to ice with the confusion. But if we stay with it, there will be a resolution.

The Empress, no. 3 in the Major Arcana, represents the higher, soul level of Three. She is the Mother Goddess (Ishtar, worshipped as Venus and the Queen of Heaven by the Babylonians), the Yin of the Tao. She is the feminine energy of the universe: the vessel that contains all, the fecundity, fertility and giving nature of femininity. She is the ripe fruit, the fertile harvest, the bountifulness of Earth.

Four (9 October 2009)

Four is the number of order, particularly material order. The structure, comprising of two triangles, symbolises the ultimate in stability. Since ancient times the number four was seen as separating humanity from the beasts, humans upright on two legs, with the beasts on four. Later observations showed mankind how to calculate time, based on the four phases of the moon and the seasons and, as humans began to leave behind their nomadic existence and settle in towns, the structures they built were square or rectangular.

To the Pythagoreans, four was the ideal number, as seen in the cube (their fourth solid body) which they considered to represent the earth. Drawing on Pythagorean ideas, the Christian church and medieval philosophers arrived at a number of tetrads – the four arms of the Cross; the four humours, and linked to those the four qualities which underpinned medieval science for hundreds of years; the winds, the seasons, cardinal points and the Gospels. The Hindus also have four Vedas; and Islam considers the Torah, Psalms, Gospel and the Quran as its sacred books.

Several of the North American Indian tribes such as the Dakota, Zuni, and Sioux, consider the number four to be of major importance in their society. For the Sioux in particular, groupings of four were central: there are four groups of deities, ages of mankind, and species of animal. To them, the circle was a sacred symbol and this symbolism – a circle within a square – was seen by the alchemists as the ultimate in spiritual perfection. In the 20^th Century, Carl Jung saw the same symbolism in his patients: when they spontaneously began to draw mandalas, their healing was nearly complete.

The English phrase ’standing four-square’ is exemplified by The Emperor.

In older decks the Emperor sits on a square throne. Solid, immovable, he stares out at the world knowing that if he wishes, he can change the world. He symbolises the masculine energy of the universe - the yang - active, potent, vigorous. He understands how the world works (not surprising, when to some extent he has shaped it), and may change it whenever he chooses.

However, the Emperor can also be blinkered, paranoid, stubborn, closed-minded. Underneath the will to power lies a deep insecurity and fear. Often that fear is justified – his tyrannical rule engenders deep resentment, and he knows that ultimately, his order and control will be overthrown.

After all that, you probably won’t be surprised to hear that the Fours of the Minor Arcana are also about security and order.

The Four of Discs (Pentacles) shows this very clearly, the figure crouching over his money and possessions. The card is about greed, insecurity, feelings of scarcity, protectiveness. In the Four of Rods (Wands), we see a strange structure - reminiscent of an hour-glass - within which is a transparent bubble. A man can be seen walking up the path to a hut, where someone has put on the tea to welcome him. This could be a world within a world, but primarily it contains a sense of homecoming and security.

In the Four of Cups, the order seems to be overturned, along with the cup in the foreground. The person in the image is holding on to some emotional issue, and ignoring what could be his salvation (the three cups filling with liquid) in the background.

Finally, in the Four of Swords, the figure is meditating, while four swords surround him. There is a sense of silence and peace. Here the order is maintained, even when we consider that many packs show the figure as a knight, wounded, lying on the bench in a church. He is the upholder of order, the wounded warrior who fights for the status quo. In the Intuitive Tarot (illustrated), however, he needs rest and recuperation, and perhaps to rethink his future. In this card, the status quo is about to change.

Five (added 16 October 2009) [My apologies for the lack of images: the problem is under investigation]

According to Schiller, Five is the human soul. Certainly it reflects our bodies: head, arms and legs within the circle of soul, as pictured in Leonardo da Vinci’s iconic image of Vitruvian Man…

Five has long been associated with human life and with the five senses. In that way it is, perhaps, apt that the Hierophant, the inner Old Wise Man is number V of the tarot trumps. He not only represents our wisdom, but our humanity. Jung also saw five as the number of natural man. Five is the first number made up of even and odd - the combination of the masculine 3 and the feminine 2, and as such often represents the union of male and female. So, in the Intuitive Tarot (illustrated), the Hierophant’s wisdom is symbolically shown in his mitre as encompassing the five main religions - the fish (Christianity), the cow (Hinduism), the five-pointed star (Judaism), and the sickle moon (Islam), all contained within an oval egg (Buddhism). The Hierophant himself, however, stands in front of an enormous moon to signify his feminine understanding.

Nature uses the five in significant ways: plants often have five petals and we, of course, have five fingers and toes, but aside from that, the five is mostly significant to humanity. The Pentateuch (the five books of Moses); the pentagram (sign of Ishtar, Venus, and goddesses related to the planet Venus) and the pentagon give an immediate lead into the importance of five in the ancient world. Paracelsus also utilised the five-pointed star in his medical literature. It is also mythologically important: the old solar year was based on the number 5 x 72 days (360 - based on the same breakdown of time as the hours of the day) but, to ensure the year was the correct length an extra 5 days (the epagommeneia) had to be added - Hermes, apparently, gambled with the moon god to gain these five days.

And of course we have the five elements in Semitic, western and Chinese tradition. In Hindu and Sikh tradition five was omnipresent and Chinese tradition was based almost entirely on the five - 5 sacred mountains, five degrees of nobility, five relationships between people, virtues, moral qualities, classical books, five main weapons, five punishments and fivefold luck.

In the tarot minors, five is a slightly difficult number, though one very relevant to many issues of humanity. The Five of Cups references grief and mourning, and our tendency to withdraw to process such emotions. The Five of Discs depicts the loss of home, and/or the need to leave our security every now and again, to revision our lives. The Five of Rods indicates conflict - a kind of ritualised balletic battle of the kind we find in families, relationships, and work. Finally, the Five of Swords illustrates the need to feel superior at others’ expense - patronisation, denigration, intolerance; putting others down to feel good ourselves; the tyranny of the patriarchy; and the feelings of humiliation felt by the underdog.

The Giotto Tarot (http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/giotto/) - a stylised deck based on Giotto’s work.
The Medieval Scapini deck (http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/medieval-scapini/)
The Golden Tarot of the Renaissance (http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/estensi-golden-renaissance/). A very attractive deck with gold leaf background.
The Mantegna tarot (http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/mantegna/). Ostensibly based on the Sola Busca tarot, which contains the earliest illustrated minors (and utilised by Pamela Coleman Smith in the Rider-Waite tarot), this is an interesting pack but not strictly a tarot deck as it only has 50 cards.
The Old English Tarot (http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/old-english/index.shtml)
The Renaissance Tarot (http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/renaissance/)
The Golden Tarot, by Kat Black (http://www.aeclectic.net/tarot/cards/golden/)

and so on…. It was Kat Black’s Golden Tarot that finally captured me. This deck was obviously a labour of love, digitally collaged from medieval paintings and using the Rider Waite system. It’s been beautifully produced by US Games Inc. with gilt edges and a well-crafted booklet. Some people don’t like the fact that they recognise bits of paintings, separated from their original artwork. However, for me this is one of the attractions as I can use the booklet to source the different paintings. Most importantly, though, I can read with it. As soon as I started reading from it, the cards began to tell a coherent story.

Today, for example, I drew three cards for the presenting issue of the week, and got Queen of Swords and the High Priestess, both reversed. It was a clear warning not to start messing with someone else’s life (a temptation over the weekend!), as it would be a) unwise and b) a deviation of my own integrity as the High Priestess. So I’ll take the cards’ advice and stay upright …

‘Yesterday I had a client who works out in the Middle East, arranging tours. At the end of his reading he despairingly asked me why, as humans, we behave the way we do.

I decided it was too big for me to answer and drew a card … The Devil.

So then I asked what could be done about it - and got Justice.

Sometimes they totally amaze me.’

I’d be interested in your own examples of this sort of thing!

Often the Empress appears in readings when the client needs to give her- or himself a bit of nurturing, or if she is pregnant or planning a child. (If pregnancy is an issue for the client, the card will probably appear reversed.) It’s about self-awareness and self-acceptance, a beautiful receptive energy which holds, receives and nurtures. We in the 21st century have little experience of the power of the feminine and its apparently effortless grace.

The Empress frankly enjoys sex, she exudes feminity in all its aspects. She is fecund, abundant, lush, unashamed, even ribald. She is bountiful, sensuous, receptive. She loves food, good things, the earth. In fact, she is the earth, and if you look at how the land explodes into life in spring, you’ll be witnessing her power. On the tarot path, she is the Mother … and to move on, we have to separate ourselves from her. There are a surprising number of people who never manage that. The woman who rings mother daily, sees her as a friend rather than a parent, constantly quotes her wise sayings, asks her advice; or the man who is still at home at 30 or 40, or - although married, still sees his mother as the epitomy of womanhood, will almost certainly be in thrall to the darker side of the Empress.

Because she is not always about love and light. Like the earth, she can destroy. Get on the wrong side of her and you’ll know all about it. This is the Empress in her Kali aspect: the typhoon, the earthquake, the tsunami. She can be the devouring mother, the dark side of femininity, the bitch goddess. So, reversed, the Empress can signify ensnaring, intrusive tyranny, lack of boundaries, dry sterility, martyrdom, or self-indulgence. Less negatively, she might also show that the client is neglecting him- or herself.

A friend and I have been running workshops together for a few years - she is a shamanic practitioner and teacher who facilitates workshops on storytelling, journeying, and the Tarot. I’m a professional tarot reader and visionary artist, and use my own decks in readings (The Intuitive Tarot and the Devas of Creation). We began these workshops two or three years ago with a slightly challenging title - the Tarot and Transformation. One of exercises in the workshop was a movement sculpture, which proved to be phenomenal for all concerned.

We are now taking that idea one stage further, in our June workshop on The Major Arcana (in Harrow, London, on Saturday 20th June). After a guided visualisation on the Majors - which will demonstrate how the Majors depict a profound journey of initialisation and self-development, and an audio-visual presentation on the history of the Tarot,  we will suggest that  participants embody the qualities of one of the Major Arcana. Having taken on this powerful archetypal energy, others can then join in to illustrate other aspects of that image to which they feel drawn. It should be a powerful exercise.

The Minor Arcana workshop was held in May, an interesting way of introducing the Tarot (people usually begin with the Majors and move onto the Minors in the second half). But it seemed this was required: we will no doubt discover the reasons at the workshop … the Tarot is much more profound than we realise - as anyone who works with it regularly will know.

If you would like to join us to work with the Major Arcana, let me know (http://www.theintuitivetarot.com/Intuitive_tarot_courses.htm, where you can find the flier and phone numbers).

Whenever I see this card I see in my mind’s eye the moon rising over the Mysteries, the Delphic Oracle and the ancient temples. There’s a quote in The Bacchae which somehow brings with it the atmosphere, magic and the belief in the Otherworlds:

Will they ever come to me, ever again
The long, long dances,
On through the dark till the dim stars wane?
Shall I feel the dew on my throat and the stream of wind in my hair?

The High Priestess reminds us of a time when belief in oracles was not in doubt, when materialism, rationality and greed were not alpha and omega of existence, when the veil between the worlds was thinner than it is today.

But at the same time, the seer and her gifts are returning to our world. The High Priestess is about the deep inner knowledge we all have, and about the connection with wonder, intuition, and spiritual awareness. The High Priestess is seen as a part of the Divine Feminine, and manifests in women as a direct link to our innate spirituality, and in men as creative inspiration. In readings she would be seen as a call to listen to your intuition and usually suggests that the client needs to give more emphasis to spirituality and intuition in their lives. For a man it might indicate a powerful, yet platonic relationship but also, and perhaps even more importantly, she depicts his own inner nature, the anima.

The High Priestess usually appears in readings where the client has an inner call, often to use their psychic or healing talents, but has been ignoring or misusing it. This is understandable - many people are terrified of seeing into the future or seeing spirits - but it can cause serious energy imbalances. If you have these gifts, they need to be utilised - if not, you may well find yourself locked in denial, passive aggressive behaviour, addiction, or self-sabotage.

If the card is reversed, this may well have happened. It shows loss of spiritual connection and lack of integrity. It also suggests creative blocks, frustration, and denial of potential. The scientist so keen to make us all atheists - so fearful of inner knowledge and belief - would almost certainly get the High Priestess reversed in his cards.

If you get the High Priestess appearing in your cards, pay careful attention to your dreams, to any strange coincidences that happen, and to long-forgetten hopes. Try to allow yourself to believe - in beauty, in love, in the invisible. The visible is not all there is in the universe - it is, to paraphrase J.B.S. Haldane, ‘not only queerer than we suppose, but queerer than we can suppose’.

The Fool is the unusual, the insane, the outsider. He brings with him chaos, even madness. If he arrives in your reading, you might be the sort of person who would grin and nod, welcoming him in and living with the layers of disorder he brings with him, but quite often his appearance brings with it a sharp intake of breath as the client immediately starts trying to identify exactly what it is they’ve done that’s particularly stupid.

But of course the card isn’t about stupidity - or only very rarely, and even then I would expect it to be reversed. It’s usually about taking risks, a leap into the unknown, or being prepared to see outside the box. The Fool is traditionally pictured jumping off a cliff while a small dog (symbol of faithfulness) tries to keep him from succeeding. So it can be about a new path, not safe but exciting, where we can test our mettle to the fullest, reaching out to the highest we can attain … or falling into the chasm below (but even then, if we survive, we’ll have learnt a huge amount). We might expect to see paradoxical, contradictory events or personality traits. And sometimes the appearance of The Fool can be a goad to take uncomfortable decisions.

Reversed, it can be a warning that pitfalls lie ahead. Or that some faulty decision needs to be rethought. It often points out a reckless, thoughtless approach that could easily result in major problems - the sort of ‘act first think later’ attitude that our western culture is so good at.

Still, I love The Fool. He started my long journey of discovery through the Tarot. You may well have heard the story before but I’ll tell it again (the Fool loves to do this - he doesn’t care if you’ve heard it 10 or 20 times before, he likes telling it!!!

I was doodling one night, idly, in front of the television (as one does) and, looking down, I discovered I’d actually drawn The Fool - but a very different being from the familiar figure I knew from decks I had seen previously. His eyes were extraordinary - a bit mad, and yet deep, deep like the ocean. I painted the drawing to see if the magic stayed; and it did (see above). I found him so compelling I decided to go on to see if I could produce an equally interesting Magician … and then I did Justice … and Strength, and eight years later, I had a full tarot deck. So, as far as I’m concerned, the Fool is the door to a wider, richer universe.

That’s the deeper aspect of this wonderful archetype: the Wise Fool. In the book of The Intuitive Tarot, he’s placed both at the beginning and at the end of the Major Arcana: Alpha and Omega. In this guise, he’s the stage past The World - one stage past the culmination of the journey. We might see him as the numinous soul, the transparent, all-knowing innocent. The Beatles sang about him in The Fool on the Hill, Stanley Kubrick depicted him at the end of 2001: A Space Odyssey. We don’t encounter his like very often, unfortunately. When we do, we either kill them, or fete them. Usually the former.

(Oh, by the way, if you think you’ve seen the Fool before, in the correct position, you’re right. I decided to give him more coverage, so I deleted the first airing. After all, why not?)

From the point of view of an artist ‘painting the bones’ [which I paraphrased from The Llewellyn Journal 'Writing Down the Bones' of February 16th 2009 by Corrine Kenner], I take a slightly different view. For me the Death card in the Intuitive Tarot is an initiatory figure, challenging me to strip my thoughts to the bone, to discover what I am really about, and to rid myself of all the dross in my life. After the Hanged Man’s lessons, where we’ve had to reverse all our set views - everything we’ve been taught - we are ready for a more profound rethink. Thus we arrive at the Death card, Major Arcana number XIII.

When I painted this image I wanted it to be quite confrontational. So Death is fearful indeed, an imposing black figure with red eyes burning in its white skull. Behind this figure is a wall of fire - which I saw as cold, not hot. To complete the image, I softened its impact with the opened cocoon, the diamond, and butterfly to indicate rebirth. Later I discovered that in shamanic lore, the initiators are often experienced as putting the dismembered body of the initiate into fire (after which the successful trainee is re-membered, emerging as a fully-fledged shaman). This gives yet another dimension to the card, which, at least for the layman, is probably the most feared of all tarot cards.

For me, then, the image of Death, and thus Death itself, is the next step towards a greater life. For those who have moved into his realm, I salute you, and honour your advance along the path. As the crocuses open their delicate petals after what seems like a very long winter, I acknowledge Death as a necessary part of that rebirth.

Reversals of the darker cards often display a more optimistic aspect of the card. The Nine and Ten of Swords reversed all indicate that the darkest time has already passed (useful, as they are such dark cards!), and the Five shows the fearful, cowering person at the bottom of the card beginning to take power into her hands and face her fears.

One of the most interesting of reversals is the Tower. The meaning of the card is the lightning strike of God, the cosmic illumination that shatters all existing structures - and although the card isn’t always *that* negative, it certainly can indicate disastrous events (like 9/11, for example). So how to read the Tower reversed?

Nowadays I usually see this as dismantling important aspects of your life, which can be deciding to downsize, for example. Separation, divorce, or giving in your notice after a shock could also be The Tower reversed. But one of the best examples I’ve encountered happened recently in a reading for a woman who was 7 months pregnant. She blenched a bit to get the Tower reversed and I explained what I’ve just said above: that it wasn’t necessarily negative at all, but she’d have to rethink her life and get rid of all sorts of unwanted stuff. Three days later she texted me to say her baby had been born - 2 months early, but he was fine. She wanted to know what the Tower reversed meant! I replied that although she had expected the birth, she’d thought she had plenty of time. Now, however, both she and her partner would have to make some radical changes to their lifestyle - dismantling the old structures and setting up new.

This was sent to me by Gary Oppenhuis on Facebook, and it is so apposite I thought I would share it with you…

‘I periodically perform Tarot readings for my self, as a meditative interaction, a time of spiritual play and reverance, delighting in the random coincidences.  Often I choose a word or phrase as the focal point for these tarot interactions.  

‘For a recent reading, I chose the word “Progress“.   Progress as a verb, as in “going forward”.  I want/need to Progress in many areas of my life.  For this reading, I used the Intuitive Tarot, by Cilla Conway.

‘The card I pulled was: the 2 of Rods.  Traditionally, the 2 of Rods (or Wands) is often associated with initiative, boldness, originality, commanding attention. Certainly appropriate themes to foster Progress!

‘And then I looked more closely at the specific imagery on this card.  And then I smiled, and glowed, and realized what day it was (Jan. 19, 2009, MLK Jr. day), and the momentous event that was about to take place the next day (Jan. 20, 2009):  the inauguration of Barack Obama as President of the United States!

‘The card depicts a tall, lean, dark, regal figure standing atop a hill (Capitol Hill?), holding an orb in his outstretched hand, reflecting on the state of the world. In the background there appears to be a vast multitude of faces, of many colors.  A larger orb glows at the top of the card, like a spotlight or Sun.

‘The scene is like a leader or actor on a great stage, pondering and expressing a vision of progress. The 2 parallel rods or bars crossing the orb could represent the 2 great leaders (Martin Luther King and Obama), and the ladder they have helped to build in the climb towards unity.  The 2 bars crossing the “O” is somewhat reminiscent of the Obama campaign logo.

‘I normally do not relate personal readings to public events, but the symbolic impact of this card, and of this moment, gave me a tremendous lift and feeling of positive transformation as we all work towards Progress, for our selves, for each other, and for the world.’

So we have drawn or chosen our card and allowed it, as best we can, to speak to us.

But what if we get a card that we are not happy with – one that produces a decidedly negative reaction?

A negative reaction to a card is an indication that the image is activating some repressed part of yourself, or is a call to look at a particular problem.  The more reluctance you feel to working with the card, the more important it is to continue! 

In this case, get a friend to sit with you, to witness the messages you get from the card – you’ll have to work out loud in that case if possible. They are more likely to notice if you miss important clues – and it’s surprising how easy it is to ignore something that is really important! Encourage your friend to be objective and to say anything they think might be useful, even if you may not like what they say!

If you haven’t got a friend who will help close at hand, record all the intuitive links, however disturbing they may seem, and come back to them a few days later.  You will probably find a strange recognition dawning – congratulations! Just stay with it, and the message will become clearer with time. 

If you find at any point that your imaginary stories or identification with the figures in the cards are bringing up particularly painful memories, or feelings of fear or anger, use your own intuitive guidance to decide whether you should stay with them or turn away.  Although you are perfectly at liberty to turn away, most of the time it is best to stay with the emotions if you can, feeling them as fully as possible. 

Accept that they are part of you, and that by acknowledging them you are recovering a precious part of yourself (it is not feeling itself that is dangerous, it is repressed feeling).  However, if you find it impossible to stay with these emotions, or decide intuitively that it is not a good idea, trust this intuition. You are your own wisest guide, and this may be your psyche’s way of protecting you.

If nothing at all appears in your awareness, you may be tired, or trying too hard, or missing the messages through inexperience.  Indicate your willingness to your subconscious and higher consciousness that you wish to remain open to any flashes that may come through other people, books, films, or dreams, in the days ahead, and ensure you have a notebook to hand!

1) The Tarot is evil.

Wrong. The Tarot is powerful, yes. It speaks directly to your unconscious, and the imagery is archetypal and certainly sometimes disturbing – but essentially the Tarot is a mirror: it reflects what is inside you. Thus anyone who considers it evil is merely projecting evil from themselves onto the cards.

Like any powerful tool, you can abuse the Tarot – by becoming addicted to it or obsessively repeating the same question (in which case you may well find that it can get really tetchy). If, however, you treat it with respect, study and use the cards for self-awareness, you will soon discover that the Tarot represents a profound and transformational spiritual journey.

2) You have to be psychic to read the Tarot.

Wrong. All you have to be is intelligent and able to understand pictures (an integral gift for all humanity: we dream in pictures, so – while our schools work hard to make us forget how to do it – you probably will find it easier than you think).

3) You should always be given a Tarot deck: you should never buy one for yourself.

Unless you’ve told the person exactly what tarot to buy, a tarot gift pack is usually one that sits unused in a drawer. The best way to find a deck you can actually use is to go to a good esoteric shop which has samples, and look at every card. The pack that speaks to you, that you love, is the one you need to buy.

4) The Tarot tells you the future

The cards are capable and do foretell the future. However, changes occur every second, and we can also change our lives by how we think. So it is best to consider the cards as suggesting possibilities, of indications of what you need to be aware of, and sometimes, old patterns of thought we need to alter.

5) The Tarot came from Ancient Egypt

No-one knows where the Tarot originated. It is unlikely to have been Ancient Egypt (though it’s a nice story); it’s more likely to have been Italy as the titles on the early decks were in Italian. The Major Arcana might have been designed as part of the Mystery Plays, and no-one knows where the Minors - which are like ordinary playing cards - came from. The latter are first mentioned in 1377, the Majors in 1415. The two sets were first amalgamated in the 1500s. The first decks we know of were beautifully illuminated – the Visconti Tarot is a good example.

Last time we talked about identifying with a card, chosen either at random or by visual selection and being open to any sub conscious messages that card might suggest to you.

I talked about how it might be if I drew the Three of Rods and concentrated on what the design is saying to me. I began with the ideas – suggested by the design - of: concentration, energy, beautiful colours, velvet smoothness, peace. Excitement at holding this beautiful egg-shape.

But what if I drew the Three of Rods and it was upside down i.e. reversed?

If the card is reversed (appears upside down) the intuitive message you need to take from it is modified. In the case of the Three of Rods, I would still have access to the creativity or beautiful secret, but I need to be aware that there may be some blockage.

At this stage, I need to stay in the reverie, letting my mind flow freely around any further images that came.

I might get the sense I am trying too hard to control an outcome, or that there is some outstanding task to be completed. If no guidance comes, I will pass the issue over to my higher and unconscious selves, and forget it for the time being, waiting for synchronicities or dream messages to help clarify the situation later.

Some of us access our intuition easily and for some it takes practice.

In self-development work, using the Tarot, you consciously identify with a particular card or cards, chosen at random or by visual selection. If you go with visual selection, choose a card that you feel particularly drawn to – or even one you particularly dislike!

Study the card for a while, letting your mind go into neutral. This can take practice, so take your time, relax and breathe slowly – close your eyes if you wish. Be open to anything, however illogical or tentative, that comes into your head: images, sounds, sensations, colours, words, feelings, anything.

You may find it helpful to record your reactions in a notebook, to refer to later, as these intuitive messages will almost certainly have some relevance to you even if the meaning is not obvious to begin with.

Example: Let’s say I’ve drawn the Three of Rods from The Intuitive Tarot. I might begin: ‘Concentration, energy, beautiful colours, velvet smoothness. Peace. Excitement at holding this beautiful egg.’ I might then ask the figure in the card what its story is, or describe myself as if I am the figure in this particular card (this is called ‘dialoguing’ with the card.

I am staring intently at a beautiful egg-shaped object. A double helix of energy is rising from it. Have I made it? I get the sense that it is humming. It is alive! This is some miraculous, alchemic secret.

My subconscious has informed me directly that I have access to a wonderful, living secret. It is my message; another person would probably ‘see’ something quite different. I don’t have to work out intellectually what this amazing secret could be, although I know it has something to do with the feeling of connection to my soul; all I need to do is to fully experience the wonder of it, and thank the universe for having granted it.

I The Magician

A sudden conscious awareness of your personal path in life; new initiatives, creative ideas. The directed application of will to manifest an idea or a dream. The ability to tread a difficult path with confidence. Awareness of personal values so that ethical choices can be made. The interrelationship of many different dimensions, and how these can be made to work for rather than against you. Skill with words, self-confidence, creative action of all kinds.

Reversed: The mis-use of talents, such as persuasive skills. A tendency to ride roughshod over others. Power for its own sake. Greed. Will-power mis-directed; the flow of energy blocked. This can lead to psychic terrors, particularly fear of madness, and soul-loss.

With the Three by Three Spread, people often will place three cards down and read them as Past, Present, Future.

Alternatively you can - as I have done in the following illustration - use these three cards to identify what is going on in specific areas of the client’s life – sometimes it will be along the lines of relationship, work, family, travel, health.

The second row will be ‘Anything you need to do right now about your relationship, or your work’ etc.

The third row can be ‘Helpful influences’, or ‘what you should not do now’, or anything relevant to the client – use your discretion but make the intention clear before you draw the cards.

Extra rows can of course be added in if you think of other aspects of the question… In the diagram (above) I’ve given two alternative rows 7,8,9, but nothing is fixed in this spread, just go for it.

In our consideration of Tarot Card Meanings, the journey of the Major Arcana is the path of spiritual self-awareness, each card symbolising not only the choices we meet along the way, but also - deeper and wilder - the archetypes that underpin each stage, which can be seen as degrees of initiation. The earliest mystery religions would have had similar initiatory stages; for example, the twenty-two steps in the rites from the Egyptian Book of the Dead contain fascinating parallels.

The path to self-realisation is not easy and can be fraught with danger. At each step we have to confront, and transcend, our fears. At times we may think we are functioning on a high level of awareness, and discover later that our ego has been deceiving us. Or we may become so involved with our inner life that we lose touch with reality altogether.

The Major Arcana provides us with staging posts, which illustrate some of the possibilities and perils along the way:

0 The Fool. The path begins with the new-born babe, eyes wide in wonderment from the memory of the time before this. We understand little of what we see, but still have access to an innate wisdom.

I The Magician is the child, learning to manipulate the world and its elements. Along the way, we will lose the natural, unconscious sense of connection with the Infinite, but for a while we take that connection and its phenomenal power for granted.

II The High Priestess can be seen as the young adult, conscious of the veil between the worlds, and still able to move between the two at will. At this time we become conscious of a complementary part of ourselves, the animus or anima2; and the need to find our soul partner.

III The Empress represents the fully-functioning sexual adult, her fruitfulness and orgiastic pleasure in nature reflecting our wish for love and connection. It refers to parenthood, the wonder of our own children; and our relationship with our mothers.

IV The Emperor. We live in a patriarchal society, and part of the journey is to be in relationship to that society, with all its faults and problems. We may work within it, or rebel against it, but either way we all have first-hand knowledge of the strengths and weaknesses of the masculine and all its works. The Emperor reflects our place within society and our attitude to authority, as well as the relationship with our fathers.

V The Hierophant. The spiritually attuned masculine is an archetype to which we easily relate, no doubt because of the concept of a masculine god. We often wish for a wise adviser, an impartial guide who can help us in our confusion, without realising the wisdom accessible within us.

VI The Lovers. This is the time of choice, where we are asked to choose between our prospective partner and our parents - or, more generally, a choice between growth and stasis, the gateway into conscious adulthood. Every time we encounter life’s challenges we face a choice: do we engage with it - or turn away? Sometimes, turning away is the wisest course. The Lovers is therefore also about developing discernment.

VII The Chariot represents the forging of our will upon the world. It is about the ego and the persona - the masks we don in order to function successfully. We have learnt to repress what we consider to be our less socially acceptable aspects. These will appear in dark moments as depression, shame, irrational anger and fear.

VIII The first stirrings of inner wisdom are encountered in Justice, with her objective gaze and discerning mind. Through her clear vision, we see ourselves acting out unconscious drives, and our innate sense of justice now realises the implications of our decisions and actions on others. We see the profound personal implications of truth and untruth, integrity and expediency and understand how this impacts on ourselves and others. It is time to decide what to retain in our lives - and what to cut out.

IX With The Hermit we have made a fateful decision: we must turn away from the world, to the unknown depths within us. The material things of the world no longer answer our needs, and the soul’s call can no longer be denied. However, there is no route map for this journey; we can only follow the faint flicker of intuition, into the dark.

X The Wheel. At this stage we may feel a profound change in alignment caused by our decision to look inwards. Instead of resisting, or riding roughshod over our needs and dimly-sensed dreams, we now sense the flow of existence. We see ourselves drawn into the current, moving slowly in to the centre.

XI Strength. A real test of our new resolve is how we deal with our first encounter with the Shadow. This is what Freud called the id, the instinctive urges, child-like passions and desires of the unconscious . In Strength we learn to communicate, to negotiate, persuading our Id to work with us rather than against us. We choose integrity and maturity rather than instant gratification.

XII The Hanged Man. The self-awareness gained through Strength and its disciplined expression of self-love stands us in good stead when we realise that, in following the inner path, we need to reverse all previous certainties. Now all we can do is to hang in mid-air, waiting for illumination and wisdom. If we can stay with this encounter with the Infinite, we will emerge with a hard-won wisdom.

XIII Death. This is death of the old self, and a shamanic initiation into a new world. We stand on the threshold of a profound rebirth, though the way is guarded by the fearsome figure of Death of the old self. The alchemic fires flay off our masks and armour, stripping the soul to its core.

XIV After surviving that dread dismemberment, angelic Temperance appears to show us how to survive - by gently, lovingly, tempering (mixing) the different aspects within us. If previously we jumped into action without thinking, we now learn to act after considered thought; if we over-intellectualise, we now modify that with feeling or intuition. The sensory urges can also be balanced with feeling and awareness.

XV The Devil. After our first encounter with the Shadow in Strength, we might consider ourselves capable of anything. But in The Devil we come face to face with the collective shadow, as well as our own unrecognised darkness, mirrored in the people around us. If we take the easy way out through justification and denial, we find ourselves imprisoned in the unconscious patterns of the past. To face these patterns, take back the projections and own our worst aspects, requires extreme courage and honesty.

XVI Often it takes the intervention of The Tower to help us see our lives clearly, and to break free. The divine lightning bolt blasts through our defences and preconceptions, destroying outdated ideas, searing us to the core. Nothing can remain the same after that profound light.

XVII The Star. When we are able to see again, we realise that one faint light remains: the inner light of the soul. We have walked through the darkest night and survived. The star, rising over the sea, shows us how we can be: washed clean, delicate, an integral part of creation.

XVIII The Moon. Still the tests are not over. In The Moon we encounter the beautiful, deceptive light of the collective psyche. We either withstand its seductive power - or lose ourselves in its perilous attraction.

XIX With The Sun, we at last feel the warmth, and see the brilliance of the divine light. The twin aspects of the Self - masculine and feminine, conscious and unconscious, body and spirit - innocent as children, can grow to adulthood free and joyful, protected from the full force of the sun within the enchanted garden of the soul.

XX In Judgement, the Sun twins have grown to adulthood, and their union has birthed a new soul, the divine Child. Now all three figures rise out of the dark, containing earth and move upwards into the ineffable light of the Divine Source.

XXI In The World, all opposites are finally united and transformed in an alchemic marriage: unconscious, conscious, higher consciousness; future, present, past. This is the treasure of great price, the place of integration, of love, acceptance and pure, transcendent self-knowledge.

O The cycle of existence is completed by the second appearance of The Fool, as cosmic consciousness and the return to innocence.

As you work with the cards you will find you favour certain spreads. Don’t worry if you don’t wish to try formulating your own intuitive spreads, but prefer to work with tried and tested layouts. I often begin with the Celtic spread to give a general overview of the issues at hand, and follow up with an intuitive spread to focus in on a specific situation where required.

The Celtic Cross

An old and trusted spread which gives a good background to a second spread.

Card 1 – the central issue (what’s uppermost in the client’s mind at present.)

Card 2 – Crossing card (what’s blocking or unhelpful in relation to the central issue)

Card 3 – What lies below is the foundation, or background of the central issue. Can lie quite far in the past, or be quite recent.

Card 4 – What lies behind – the influences now receding into the past

Card 5 – What lies above – possibilities. This may not happen, depending on the client’s actions.

Card 6 – What lies before: influences coming into the client’s life now.

Card 7 – The client him or herself – the main qualities at the moment

Card 8 – The environment, world around the client

Card 9 – Hopes and fears, desires

Card 10 – Outcome

This spread can be followed by the Three by Three spread – which I use to offer the client a choice between specific questions, or different aspects of his or her life. I’ll post the Three by Three in my next post on Tarot Spreads.

Ania and Cilla

A pagan gathering is a good place to run a workshop; the participants usually understand what the tarot is and what it can do. We – Ania and Cilla -had a really good attendance – around 30 people crammed into a medieval tent – so Ania began by asking how many people had tarot decks. The majority of people did and most had some idea of Tarot Card meanings. The numbers dipped slightly when Ania asked how many had used them to read for themselves, and dropped (substantially) again to the question of how many had used them with others. Lack of confidence is always an issue with the Tarot; and there’s also the issue of learning at least 78 meanings – more, if you use reversals.

One person said her main problem was how each card was affected by the others around it. This was something that worried me when I was learning. But somehow, after a while, you do begin to see how they work. Using spreads – as we usually do – each card has its specific meaning modified by the position. For example, if you found the Eight of Swords in the position of ‘central issue’, and the Four of Pentacles (Discs) in the Environment position, you would probably say that the client is stuck with old ways of thinking or ideas of duty, and they need to cut the cords that bind them to those outdated views. The Four of Pentacles shows us that this is mainly about money, but also where they fit into their environment – perhaps they are holding on like grim death to ideas of money and security. The client has probably gone around and around this problem mentally (swords) but the combination of material security (discs) and their old issues have kept them stuck. As a foundation card, you then might find the Six of Cups (nostalgia, looking back) and know that they’ve previously had emotional issues about moving forward, and this has of course contributed to the issue. But if they approached the problem from a different point of view, they might realise they have actually moved on. And so you go on.

Tarot reading, as Ania pointed out, is really a combination of life skills, being able to read imagery, and intuitive knowledge. You really don’t have to be psychic, just aware. I’ve met a number of psychic people who can’t read tarot particularly well because the messages in their heads get in the way. On the other hand, you find words, images, or intuitive ‘knowing’ do start ‘coming in’ as soon as you begin to trust your own abilities. That seems to be the way with intuition – the more you trust it, the better it works.

Once Ania had given us a bit of background information on the tarot, she handed out some cards for people to practise with. These were from the Rider Waite deck, probably the best known tarot cards of all; nearly every deck produced now refers back in some way to the Rider Waite. However, as I told participants as I began my part of the workshop, buying a deck because it’s popular may not be the best way. I encourage people to choose their cards themselves, using a combination of feeling and intuition. There will be one deck that calls to you, and that will be the one you need to work with. (By the way many people have heard that you shouldn’t buy tarot for yourself. This is superstition and quite counter-productive, in my view. At least if you buy them, you have an emotional, intuitive and material investment in them!)

I had brought along some A4 images from The Intuitive Tarot, the pack I painted a long time ago, now published; I use this deck to the exclusion of all others because I know it so intimately. I was pleased to find a participant there who had been on one of my previous workshops; she said I’d helped her understand tarot, where all of her previous attempts had failed. She had also found that The Intuitive Tarot was the one pack that spoke to her. It was lovely to hear that, and good to see the feedback from the A4 images … sometimes it helps to see the tarot writ large, as it were.

I ended the workshop by giving on-the-spot one-card readings from the deck for anyone who asked – it is amazing to see this in practice. As always, it is a mystery how the cards work, but when you see how accurate even one card can be, you remember that the tarot itself is a mystery – and all the better for it.

The origins of the cards themselves are shrouded in mystery, though they were first described in 1377. It is possible that at first they were merely used as a game (Tarocchi); however, we know they were first used for divination purposes in the 16^th Century.

A Tarot deck consists of 78 cards, which are divided into the Major Arcana (or Trumps), and the Minor Arcana. The twenty-two Major Arcana are seen as archetypal or allegorical images representing the journey through life. The Minors (the remaining fifty-six cards) are similar to today’s playing cards, with four suits of 14 cards (the numbered or pip cards 1-10, and the face cards: page, knight, queen and king). Each suit represents a different aspect of humanity and are usually seen as Cups (the emotions), Pentacles or Discs (material issues), Swords (the mind), and the Wands (intuition and creativity). Each suit is usually linked to the four elements – water, earth, air and fire.

The full tarot pack is used to provide readings intended to help a person achieve a better understanding of issues that may be affecting them, such as relationships, problems to be overcome, opportunities etc. Each card has a range of meanings, which, taken together, can allow the skilled interpreter to help their client (usually referred to as the Querent or inquirer) to focus on the issues affecting them and thus find a way through problems or take advantage of opportunities.

The cards in the Major Arcana carry more weight than the Minor Arcana. Therefore, in a reading, the meaning and position of Major Arcana are interpreted very carefully as they are considered to be important unseen influences, indicating major changes in the inquirer’s life. In contrast, the Minor Arcana usually refers to day-to-day events, or people surrounding the inquirer.

A skilled Tarot reader also interprets the meaning of the cards according to the position they occupy in a spread (different ways in which the cards are laid out). However, where the inquirer is open to the tarot card meanings, as represented by the pictures and symbolism, their own intuition can provide a major boost to the power of the cards. Indeed, many practitioners of the art of Tarot believe that its greatest benefit is in the conduit it provides to the subconscious mind, thus allowing the process of “physician heal thyself”.