Morning REVOLUTIONARIES!
Welcome to the second installation of Tarot Tuesdays new PLAYSHOP Series! As soon as the idea of a "playshop" came into my awareness the philosophy of it has been treating me well. I'm a big believer that learning, healing, transfer of wisdom, etc isn't a top down (or for that matter, somber) flow. However, this all feels different when I'm the one offering some insight/information. Subsequently submitting whatever little nugget of information that pops up to this passion project and community starts to feel daunting and insecurity inducing. The questions start. What am I trying to say? Does it stand up to investigation? Why does it matter? How is this all relevant?
In the very first conversation I had with my partner, casually in a bar, amongst safe folks and drinks, they commented on why I started and ended comments with, "I don't know." They queried, "Do you say that a lot about things you actually DO know a lot about?"
It stopped me dead in my tracks.
I pride myself on being a relatively confident human- someone who is conscious not to take up an inappropriate amount of space but someone who can also speak up for myself. Why then in this safe and casual setting, discussing a topic that I did indeed spend a lot of personal, professional, and academic energy exploring, did I feel the need to preface every statement with a disclaimer that my thoughts were irrelevant?
After that pleasantly fateful night, I've been lucky enough to have my partner's loving and compassionate reflection call me on this pattern in my speech a number of times. As a talk therapist (and general INFJ listening ear), I'm also lucky to be entrusted with the stories of others often. I was struck with how common it was to hear this disclaimer in the narratives of other queer individuals around me as well. Once I tuned into it, I heard it everywhere, it might as well have been a community motto.
"{Insert an individual's experience here}, but I don't know."
"I don't know, but {Insert an individuals opinion here}"
"I don't know, but {Insert an actual reference to an article/event/etc}."
I have all sorts of explanations for why this is the case, but it doesn't change the current pattern or lessen the toll this passing negative affirmation may be playing on our spirits. It's also a desirably conscious and mindful quality to tread lightly with self-centric viewpoints. It's a courtesy we're not afforded nearly enough by the majority, but what place does this disclaimer have in a conversation about mindful self healing exploration and practice? If healing is personal and individual doesn't it have to be as queer as we are? For it to work don't we have to believe in the accuracy of our individual queer lens as we utilize it?
This is why I like the idea of a personal tarot playshop practice so much! First off, it's a practice, an action, something that can be done and redone, a little knowledge and skill gained every time. It doesn't have the pressure of a performance or require the dedication of a study-- unless we want it to. We can come back to it when we need it. We can't fail at it. We can't be wrong. Secondly, if we enter into it with the spirit of play we can enjoy it with youthful wonder. It can develop with us and validate us- unlike some of our childhoods.
Whether you're new to tarot or a studied practitioner I encourage you to try a playshop practice! Trust what you're pulling, how you're pulling, and what associations are coming up for you! Is there a way that helps you get into a moment of childlike curiosity? When my partner and I pull together we often plop our butts down on the cement, take some time to play music or talk about our intention for a pull first, and then take turns reading and discussing cards. We leave sidewalk chalk out, let our selves absentmindedly surround our cards with swirling doodles, and literally imbue our pull into our physical space. If we're curious about a card we pull another. If a card gets stuck together, falls out of a shuffle, or if we have to chase one down that starts to blow away in the wind, we put it aside and ask why it's trying to get our attention.
Tarot can be serious and insight inducing but it can also be comically humbling. Nearly every time we pull someone gets a card that instigates a sheepish grin and a loving protest of, "Shut up, Tarot, you don't know me!" Having a spirit of playfulness allows us to not feel so defensive and take in the sometimes somber wisdom that stares back at us. We trust the conscious play time we put aside for our tarot pulls.
So with that, happy Tuesday everyone! We hope you put aside some play time this week with your tarot decks!
Playfully yours,
Traci
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Traci {She|Her|Hers|They|Them|Theirs} is a yoga teacher, therapist and amateur tarot enthusiast! They try to believe in the power of their inner Magician, stay inspired by the Fool’s spirit, understand struggle through the lens of The Tower/Disaster and always stay reminded that, “The Star Awaits…”