SEEING BEYOND THE CARDS
by Steven Glick • New York City

When I began reading Tarot cards back in college it felt more like a game than a serious vocation. I read my own cards to see if I would pass an exam and occasionally I would regale my friends with the ups and downs of their love affairs. I didn’t begin to take the cards seriously until I left school and experienced the trauma of trying to become an actor in New York City. Unable to afford a therapist---even a graduate student---I looked to the Tarot as my personal shrink. I would take them with me to auditions and, while waiting to be humiliated, choose a card and concentrate on the image. I still did readings for friends, but I no longer considered it a joke. I listened to their stories and empathized with their struggles. I offered heartfelt words of comfort and reassurance. These experiences helped me to see that my calling did not lie in the theater but in the healing professions. I halted my perilous acting career and turned my attention toward becoming a massage therapist. In a few years I established myself as a licensed practitioner.

It was with some trepidation that I decided to offer tarot readings to my massage clients. To my surprise, they liked the idea of having a tarot reading and then processing the experience during a massage session. The readings I gave were for the most part straightforward and encouraging. I had not yet faced the challenge of having to tell a client something they did not want to hear.

Betsy had been a loyal client since I started my practice and when I introduced the tarot readings she was an ardent supporter. When Betsy contracted breast cancer three years ago I wanted to be there for her, so I took a course in massage for mastectomy patients. Soon after recovering from the breast cancer, she contracted leukemia from the chemotherapy treatments. She described the experience as “going from the frying pan into the fire.”

I received a call from Betsy one day. She was in the hospital and feared she would never come out. Her voice was weak but she asked if I would come to see her and read her cards. I sensed her desperation and agreed to come, although I felt a strong pull of apprehension. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see Betsy. I had a duty to reveal to her the message of the cards and I was afraid of what that message might be.

When I entered her room I had to quickly cover my shock at her deteriorated state. She was emaciated and her skin was yellow. She couldn’t move without shaking. I knew I couldn’t put off indefinitely what I had come there to do, so I gave Betsy the deck and asked her to shuffle as best she could. She handed the cards back to me and I laid them out face down on the table in a traditional Celtic cross spread.

As I turned over each card it was immediately apparent that most, if not all were upside down. When a card is upside down in a reading it usually indicates a temporary delay or setback. When all the cards are upside down it means the setback is most likely irreversible. What I had feared might happen was actually happening, and I struggled with myself to decide what to do. I didn’t want to tell Betsy what I saw in the cards and yet I didn’t want to lie to her either. I began to talk about the cards in a general way, stumbling over my words and finally lapsing into silence. Finally, I turned to Betsy and said, “I’m sorry. Let me concentrate for a minute.” I let go of the tension I was feeling and suddenly knew what to say. I took Betsy’s hand and held it gently in mine. “We can’t change the way things are,” I said, “but we do have the power to change our attitude toward ourselves.” A long minute passed in which I could hear Betsy’s shallow breathing. She let out a tired sigh. “I know my attitude isn’t very good. I’ve been depressed lately. I can’t seem to shake it.”

I reached for the tarot deck and shuffled until I found The Star, one of the most beautiful cards in the deck. It shows a young woman with long blond hair kneeling beside a pond and holding two urns of water. She pours one urn onto the land and the other into the pond. In the foreground, a bright yellow star hovers. In the background, a tiny bird stands poised for flight. The card represents the essence of life and hope. I showed it to Betsy. “Try meditating on The Star and see if your feeling changes.” When I left her I told her to keep the card as a gift.

The next day I found a message from Betsy on my answering machine. She had called to thank me. She was feeling good about herself for the first time in weeks. She said The Star reminded her of her true nature, no matter what was going on around her.

Betsy died almost two months later. In the time that has passed since her death I’ve thought a lot about my own attitude toward life and my role as a tarot reader. I’ve come to realize that it isn’t so important what the cards say. No one has the ultimate answer to life’s mystery. But we each have the capacity to look inside ourselves---to consult our own inner gods and goddesses---and when the opportunity comes along, stretch out a hand to those of us who have fallen down on the path.

Steven Glick has been reading Tarot cards since he was an acting/writing student at NYU in the late 1980s. He received his massage therapy license in 1995, and began introducing Tarot readings into his practice three years ago. Contact him at: Steven@sacredmassagenyc.com