Njördr and Re-Membering Myself

I asked Njördr for a message; something to help change my perspective on this *thing*.... Soon I will meet a colleague to share our artwork with each other. It was a suggestion on his part to help encourage me as I get back into drawing and painting, and I am grateful for that intention. And yet I keep finding myself anxious or unprepared, worrying that my pieces aren't good enough. It's really annoying, and I don't want to feel this way, but it is nevertheless how I feel.

Pagan Otherworlds Tarot

I don't think I could imagine more appropriate cards for this matter. The Page is my creative self - the one that doesn't judge or compare - only expresses. The 8 of Swords represents my mental cage, my self-imposed limitations. Strength shows me that I am so much bigger than those needling thoughts and fears, tells me to show myself compassion, and embrace the fullness of my own being. I love how the Page and Strength look in at the 8 of Swords, perfectly equal to the task of releasing these blockages.

Mannaz reinforces the fact that this is all tied up in how I see myself, and myself in relation to others - and it's time for a narrative shift.

I spoke to Njördr at the ocean the other day, and asked him to help me remember who I am. I have indeed felt myself re-membering over the past week, calling back parts of myself. This is one of them.

Don't "Connect" With Your Deck? Be More Specific!

Tarot enthusiasts are wont to make the following sorts of statements about decks in their collection:

I really love the artwork, but I just don't connect with it.

I tried reading with it a few times but I couldn't seem to connect with it, so I gave it away.

I'd like to encourage the use of more specific language rather than the common refrain: I don't "connect" with it. What does that mean? It certainly doesn't mean the same thing for everyone who uses the phrase.

Golden Tarot - Liz Dean

When people talk about not "connecting" with a deck, they usually mean one (or a combination) of the following:

• They feel uncomfortable with the deck's theme
• They don't like the artwork
• They like the artwork but find it doesn't represent the card essences clearly or accurately enough
• They like the artwork but find each card too "busy" or the images too fine/detailed to read with easily
• They find non-scenic Minor cards a challenge to interpret 

Why does specific language matter? Well, speaking as a writer and language professional, I strongly believe in cultivating accuracy in expression. I also feel that working to be as clear and detailed as possible about our experiences is a wonderful exercise in mindfulness and self-awareness. And of course understanding exactly why someone else doesn't "connect" with a deck might help us to empathize more profoundly with their experience, and hence allow us to commiserate and/or offer better feedback.

There is some wisdom in not being overly quick to rid ourselves of decks that don't seem to do it for us in the moment: those that don't call to us now may call quite powerfully to us later. Sometimes particular decks seem to complement a particular phase of our journey, and thus make the ideal companion, even if only for a while.

And then there are decks that may collect dust for years, but are worth hanging on to anyway, such as....

My copy of the Prisma Visions Tarot - a beautiful deck, and a solid part of my collection, but one I rarely feel called to read with. Why? The artwork on some cards (ahem, Wands courts) is simply a bit "messy," which is not aesthetically pleasing to me, and in some cases has me examining a card up close muttering, "What the hell is happening in this picture??" I also think that in the creation of the suit storylines, aspects of each individual card's composition and unique meaning was sacrificed. Still, it's a lovely and extremely creative work of art.

Prisma Visions - James R. Eads

So, here's to clarity in articulation - may it serve us well!