DEATH: All Good Things…
The 13th tarot card that scares everyone.
One day, even Walmart will finally shut its doors... for good.
—Anonymous
[note: “for good" might have a double meaning]
DEATH (XIII, Major Arcana) is the single card that EVERYONE recognizes instantly during a reading. It might be the skeleton.
Naturally, the poor client wants to know first: "Who's going to die?! Me?!!!"
Well, guess what? We're all going to die.
And I know you're probably thinking: "What a hoRRRibbble thing to say!!! Nobody dies!... we ‘cross over.’"
Well, since we're talking about horrible things to say, here's a little tarot card reading etiquette:
If you are doing a reading, consider the ramifications of predicting the death of someone (anyone!). A friend recently said she'd welcome any information regarding the time and place of her death. But here's the thing:
Don't predict death. Just don't.
Yeah, sure, it's possible you might get a feeling or even a vision of someone dying ("crossing over"). But some things in this world are none of your business. Actually—outside yourself—pretty much everything.
Prediction is the POWER OF SUGGESTION.
In other words, please find a way to help people without feeding them frightening trigger words. The words "accident" and "death" have a habit of playing on people's minds. Is it necessary to prove your supposed "accuracy" at the expense of the mental well-being of another? And what if—YOU'RE wrong?!! And that's a BIG what.
Rant over.
All good things must come to an end.
Everything has a season. And many seasons in life outstay their welcome. Jobs, relationships, and even projects have habits of continuing well beyond their expiry date.
Death—or endings—is how closure is achieved.
When you read a good book (an ancient practice before cell phones), eventually, you arrive at the last page. Great books end with a shimmering catharsis. A bang or pleasant punch. A warm sensation. A lingering smile on the face.
But then it dawns on you... It's over. There is nothing left to read. And suddenly, you find yourself—alone.
Everyone in the room, the boxcar of the train, or on the plane, wherever you've been reading the book, has absolutely no idea what's just happened: that you and your book are through.
To go back and read the table of contents or to dwell on the author's biography is to drag out the inevitable. And there is no point in re-reading a book you have just read. If you intend to recapture the feeling it once gave you... it won't work. You have to let it go.
Moving on means that the book will stay with you, always (if it's a great book). There is, therefore, no reason to purge its memory from your existence. Why should you? It contributed so much to your life. Adventures. Thoughts. Feelings.
The book—however—will no longer be your constant companion. It no longer has a place inside your knapsack or purse—or pocket (did “pocketbooks” really fit in pockets?).
Why not give it a place on your bookshelf? Perfect.
But now what?
No one escapes death
The Rider-Waite DEATH card features a compelling image: a king, a child, a beautiful woman, and a pope—all at the feet of the horse of the Grim Reaper. The meaning? —The powerful, the innocent, the beautiful, the righteous—NO ONE can escape death.
I avoid getting too much into the symbolism in these tarot articles. The symbolism is for you. Symbols are the way by which the tarot cards communicate with the reader. And a good symbol conveys multiple meanings over time.
But let me point out the RISING SUN beyond the two pillars (in the background of the Rider-Waite card):
Death marks the end of something—AND the dawn of a new day. For this reason, many interpreters prefer to think of death as simply "rebirth."
But let me put it this way:
When a good book ends—it's time to find another book.
Eventually.