At Long Last, XIII; or, When Does Death Mean Change?

from the Linestrider Tarot, by Siolo Thompson

from the Linestrider Tarot, by Siolo Thompson

I finally drew the Death card today, for the first time this year. It may seem like a strange thing to say, that I’ve been waiting for Death, but it’s true. By May of most years, I’ve seen every card at least once during my daily draws. But this year, Death has kept his spectral distance, and given that we are all being stalked by a 0.12-micron-sized, coronavirus-shaped reaper these days, I’ve been okay with that.

But when Death surfaced this morning, from my Linestrider Tarot, I knew there was a reason that had nothing to do with the depredations of covid-19. Just five days ago, Minnesota resident George Floyd was murdered by a white police officer. This was the latest in a long and horrific string of tragedies - or maybe more accurately, the latest in the long and horrific history of racism in this country. Because while it’s not wrong to say Floyd’s death was a tragedy, “tragedy” implies something inevitable; something to which you can only submit, because it is so much larger than you. In the case of American racism, specifically against Black folk, it is so much larger than any one of us. But I refuse to accept that we can only shake our heads and submit.

As tarot readers, we like to assure our clients that Death isn’t Death. “Death is Change!” we say. “Death is Transformation!” (This is such a trope that it was famously satirized on The Simpsons; I had a go at it too in my Hitler Gets the Happy Squirrel video a few years back.) But is it, really? I think that for a lot of people right now, the problem is that nothing is really changing, and that Death - in the form of brutality, in the form of “excessive use of force” (an infuriating euphemism for murder) - is all too literal.

When I drew Death today, it was reversed. We all have different views on reversals: Some of us read them as “opposite,” or internal. I tend to read them as requiring some action from the inquirer. I think both of these can apply at the same time. As in: (1) Nothing has actually changed, and (2) What are you going to do about it?

 
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There’s another card in my daily draw here - I always draw two. This is the 10 of Wands. It’s known as the “Lord of Oppression,” which is a clue right there; it’s also pretty common for tarot artists to depict the 10 of Wands as a prison, which reminds us that mass incarceration is one of many phenomena caused by institutional racism. For some years my touchstone for this card has been my friend Mel Meleen’s 10 of Wands from Tabula Mundi Colores Arcus. Because it is a heavily astrological deck, and because the 10 of Wands corresponds to the Saturn-ruled third decan of Sagittarius, Mel showed the fire of 10 Wands being squashed by a giant Saturnine anvil. A slender column of smoke rises from the crucible prison of the ten wands, smoldering and gasping for air.

I don’t know about you, but I think that anvil looks a whole lot like someone’s knee crushing someone’s neck. I Can’t Breathe.

 
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The 10 of Wands is: Enough is Enough.
The 10 of Wands is: This is too heavy to bear alone.
The 10 of Wands is: What can you do to share the burden?

The last question is the critical one. We all feel overwhelmed, and that’s understandable. I’m an inveterate handwringer myself. Still, you can do something. Here’s a few suggestions I’ve found.

  • Text ‘FLOYD’ to 55156.

  • Text ‘JUSTICE’ to 688366.

  • Sign the Change.org petition to Minnesota officials demanding arrest and charging of those involved.

If you have something to spare, donate to any of the below:

None of it is enough. None of it is enough. But we have to start somewhere, and something is always better than nothing.

As a tarot reader, it’s my job to make meaning. The philosophy behind my daily draw practice goes something like this:

1) You cannot control what you are going to get.
2) You have some say in how you deal with it.

Making meaning out of the death of George Floyd, therefore, means recognizing that if you were powerless to stop it last week, there is something you can do about it now so that next week it doesn’t happen again.

Update 6/14/20
Today, when my small town (pop. 1861) staged its own BLM march on our one main street, I drew the 10 of Wands again, this time paired with Justice. It made me think about something else I’ve observed about the 10 of Wands card.

Over the years, the 10 of Wands has come up in combination with the Fool for me more often than any other card. The Fool is associated with the element of Air, and on days when I’ve gotten that combination, he’s reminded me to take a breath; to give some oxygen to the smothering fires of the 10 of Wands; to bring a beginner mind to what can seem like endless obligation.

Justice, too, is a card of Air (it corresponds to the airy sign of Libra); in fact it is often considered the “dancing partner” of the Fool, shaping the Fool’s raw potential into meaning, in the same way that rhythm shapes air waves into music. Put another way, the Fool is the raw resource of freedom; Justice as the Law shapes that freedom so that, ideally, the freedom of every individual balances with the freedom of society. Everyone has room to breathe. No one deprives anyone else of their Air, their freedom, their breath, their life.

Our little town’s march may seem small in the scope of the larger movement. But everyone must take their own steps as they are able. Taken in the aggregate, each small step in each small town may - in time, with hope - look something like the dance of Justice.