The Locked Gate

Yesterday I did a reading for myself and the card I puzzled over the most was #51, which I think of as "The Locked Gate." I wasn't sure exactly how it fit into my reading. I usually think of this card as one of "not being ready," or "closed opportunities." But it didn't seem to match what the other cards said.

My question was "Will it be beneficial for me to take a Memoir Writing class that starts next week?" One of my goals for 2016 is to write more, and taking writing classes helps me to keep up the practice. Yet some small part of me hesitated to sign up. I wondered if it was because I needed to have some space to myself at the beginning of the new year before filling my schedule with too many activities. Here is the full spread (click on the picture to get a larger view):

I wasn't quite sure what the "Past" card meant, but I interpreted it as "trust." In the past, I have taken other writing classes with playwright and teacher Douglas Jones at The Visual Arts Center of Richmond (click here to find writing classes that VisArts offers). He always sets a mood of trust and openness among his students. I started with "The Creative Spark" and finally felt brave enough to take "Writing the Shadow" in 2014. The Shadow class opened me up to looking at the darker side of myself - the parts I'm afraid to share or that I hide away. I didn't write about everything that scared me, but it helped me to understand and integrate that side of myself a little more, and to recognize the value of looking at and using the shadow in my writing, art, and life.

The "Present" card showed an open gate leading into a peaceful-looking park. I took that to mean openness and being ready to take the class. The "Challenge or Goal" was hands releasing dust (at least, that is what it looked like to me.) Perhaps this meant letting go - of control? Maybe stepping into the class not quite knowing what I will write or how it will come out? The Memoir course description said it would help writers to explore a focused part of their life, and I wasn't sure which part I would want to write about.

My "Internal" and "External Influences" were funny because they mirrored each other. In my inner world, I saw the process of writing memoir as a series of humongous mountains. In the external world, it showed a snake climbing over a small hill. This is so me. I always see projects as being huge and daunting, when in actuality they can only be carried out through a process of small steps, much like the snake going over the hill.

The "Release" card showed a guy sailing the seas on the back of a whale. I think of this card as one of adventure and searching. But because it was in the release position, I thought it meant I shouldn't go looking around everywhere or feel like I have to reach far, that maybe the stories I need to write are closer to me than I think. My "Accept" card showed the locked gate, which I'll get back to in a moment. My "Possibilities" cards showed a hand writing and sprouting lots of new ideas, and also a hand holding a key to a locked box which seemed to mean unlocking my writing spirit. So why the locked gate? That seemed contradictory to those two cards. I think there was a clue in my "Direction" card. It showed a hand with a cut on it - my writing might reveal some pain or make me feel vulnerable.

I pondered the locked gate. I even looked up the interpretations in the handbook that I myself wrote! It said: "Restrictions, not being ready, opportunity is unavailable, being denied - 'having the door closed in your face.'" 

Hmm.

Everything else in the reading seemed to point to the fact that taking the Memoir class would be a beneficial experience that would open up my writing self. So why did I have to accept this locked gate? 

This morning I woke up and understood. I also had clarity on other parts of the reading. I think the gate does mean something restricted. I think it's the part of myself I had restricted to others, the part that I am ashamed to show anyone but those closest to me who won't push me away. It's my anger. Most people are surprised to learn that I have an angry side. It's something I've wanted to write about but wasn't sure how to share. I think the card is telling me that it's time to accept this locked-up part of myself. It's time to write about it and own it, and thereby release it (I hope). 

Last month I was talking to a friend about fairy tales and horror movies. I told him how sometimes I want to watch horror movies but they scare me so much I can't go to sleep and they make me feel like the world is a horrible place.* My friend, who loves horror movies, said "The world can be a horrible place." I told him that even though fairy tales could also be horrific, I have been drawn to them since I was a kid. I said, "There's something about fairy tales that's not as bad as horror movies. Maybe because in the end there is comfort." I realized that fairy tales would not have the impact they do without that fear and the subsequent promise of comfort. The fear is an important element of the story. In fact, it is crucial. I told him I wanted to integrate more of my darker self into my art and writing, even in my work for children. He said he wanted to integrate more of the lighter side of himself into his already dark art and writing. 

Going back to the reading, I looked at the "Past," "Challenge," and "Direction" cards again and saw that they they have further dimension by alluding to a specific period of my life when my anger was uncontrollable, when I thought it might destroy myself and a relationship that I had. Looking back, that experience was a gift because it revealed the worst part of myself, and showed that I can still be loved and loving in spite of it. That part of me will never go away because it is me, though just an aspect. Just like my "good" side is just another aspect of myself. 

Now I'm not sure if I will ever share those experiences with anyone but my writing class and a few loved ones, and if I'm brave enough to write about it at all whether I will choose to share it out loud. But the cards don't lie about what is needed in my life.

I signed up for the writing class.

* If you're looking for a really good "horror" movie, watch "The Babadook." I'd heard it was extremely scary but extremely good, and I waffled over watching it for a month. When I finally did watch it, I was not scared. I was actually moved enough to shed tears. It was the first time I saw my own dark side externalized (though of course exaggerated in the movie). I empathized with both the protagonist and the monster, seeing it as a metaphor for the horror within. My boyfriend totally didn't get the metaphor, though, so I had to explain it to him.

All Eyes on Me

One way that people can become better acquainted with their cards and interpreting the symbols is to do a "Daily Drawing" - choosing one card to meditate on for that particular day. I'd seen it suggested before in Tarot workbooks and blogs, and I was reminded of it again when I read a comment from a reader on my Giveaway blog post and I saw that she devoted her blog to daily readings of cards.

I've never done it before, so I shuffled the cards and pulled this one at random from the deck:

My personal interpretation of this card is that it is one of "playing a new role." Generally in readings for other people, I see this card come up when someone has had a change of circumstance (be it a conscious decision or thrust upon them) and must take on new responsibilities or display aspects of themselves that they aren't used to - for example, they have made a change in their career or they are no longer in a certain relationship that defined them and they now see different meaning in themselves and to the people around them.

I always think of the woman in the card as reaching for a garment or costume, something to clothe her in an outward facade that matches what she feels (or wants to feel) on the inside. Something struck me about this card today - her nakedness. That might seem obvious, but I'd never considered it in quite this way before - keep reading...

I've been teaching art workshops to kids all summer. While I've had some very focused and creative kids in my classes, I've also had some rambunctious ones that have been the cause of some very draining moments. I'm very sensitive to noise, and last week I started to develop a low-grade headache during class because of children that wouldn't stop talking or playing around when I tried to call them to attention. Yesterday, I had a sinking feeling that my new round of 6 - 8 year-olds was going to be even harder to handle than the last. I still don't feel totally comfortable being an authoritative figure. When I first started teaching children three years ago, I hated telling kids, "No" or "Stop that." I do it freely now. But there are still times when kids ask me questions and there is a grey area in the answer. I ask myself, what would an "adult" say in this situation? Or times when I don't know exactly how to react to what a child does or says. How do I teach wrong from right when there are so many larger issues at play? Teaching has taught me many things, and one is that I must be fully present and responsive, or I can let an opportunity pass and be unchallenged. I can now understand why teachers get lazy and pretend not to see what is going on. It takes so much responsibility to absorb and react to every single moment.

I thought about what Card #29 had to teach me about my present situation. When someone goes through a shift and has to play a role that is new or uncomfortable to them, they experience a moment of transition where they must strip themselves of former notions and reach for the garment that will clothe them in the confidence required to "play their part." Within that transition is a moment of nudity - of utter starkness and vulnerability. As humans, we go through these kinds of shifts everyday. In the very practiced, that shift may be imperceptible. In others, it may be empowering as they choose to see and present themselves in a new light. And in others, the shift may seem clunky and even embarrassing. It can be painful to watch others' uncertainty. We don't always have to be comfortable with the roles we play. But if it's important enough to us, we need to at least give it a try - even if that means merely pretending until we feel that we can embody the part.

This morning before I set off to my class, I thought about the freshness of such shifting roles. That I can choose play the role of "Teacher" and take it off more easily than I used to when I first began teaching. That within that role there is a multitude of variables and factors in every moment - in myself, in my students, in our relationship to each other. It reminded me that each day is new and full of possibilities, and that I don't have to weigh myself down with my own expectations. I can allow that nakedness to clear the slate.

Today during class, my kids seemed more focused. I still had a little trouble getting them to listen to directions, but I got a tip from one of them. While helping Logan glue bits of "grass" - green paper paper that he had fringed on the edges - onto his pop-up card, he gave me a tip: "You should say '1-2-3, eyes on me!' the way our other teacher does. Then all the students will look straight into your eyes like this," and he proceeded to give me a wide-eyed, mesmerized stare. I agreed that I would try it out.

When I next needed the class's attention, I called out "1-2-3, eyes on me!" I got about half of the kids to look up at me quietly, which was more than normal. I looked over at Logan. He beamed and nodded his head at me. I guess I'd done something right.

Dialogue:
What does Card #29 mean to you? Were/Are you in a situation where you had to take on a new role? How did that feel? What role do you fear? What role do you desire? What role liberates you?