I shared a few videos on my Instagram Stories late last night about a few decks, books, and spiritual items that belonged to a recently passed soul and that I had the pleasure to be entrusted with by his best friend, who is a friend of mine. I would like to share a couple of more things about that.
In the past few days I kept getting the Death card on my personal readings. Now, the card had some specific messages for my life in each of those readings but I had the feeling I was about to experience something more related to it. As a diviner it is very interesting to me what kinds of things the Death card may be predicting. In my readings to others this card is always so powerful and revealing, impressing upon my mind divinatory meanings that I can’t deny. I was able to uncover past and future endings in aspects of people’s lives with this card. But sometimes these somewhat soft meanings, of endings and transitions, won’t do. At times Death wants to speak of dying. But I don’t think the Tarot is here to predict our deaths. Maybe it is, but I don’t ask those questions. I nonetheless was readying myself to receive a lesson from this card. Fittingly, it is Scorpio season, and as I’ve begun to pay more attention to astrological seasons, I feel that things worked together for a brief touch of the underworld, of death and dying, of a desire to live that goes beyond physical life on earth.
A friend told me he had some books and tarot decks that he’d like me to have. He told me a time and place to meet him at. I was assuming I was going to his place, which I had never been to, and that the items were his and that he no longer needed them. That was not the case. I arrive at the place and park as the evening comes and the crescent moon yawns, longing to set behind the dark blue mountains and the purple desert skies. I am surprised as I run into my friend and spiritual brother, Richard, who happens to be a Scorpio himself. He was also there to meet our mutual friend, let’s call him Sam. We are greeted and shown to a condo, that we learned belongs not to Sam, but to his best friend Robert that just two weeks prior had passed. Sam had been entrusted by Robert with handling his things, and he was looking for good stewards for some of Robert’s things, including many items related to spiritual practice, divination, and so on.
What I thought would be a brief visit to a friend’s home turned out to be a shared moment of remembrance, healing, grief, sadness and relief. And throughout, Death was very much present. Not only as it represented the ending of a life, but the yearning for new life that had been so actively sought by Robert. The energy in there was palpable. There was an abalone shell with a half-burned stick of sage that had clearly been homemade. I lit it up to bless the space. Normally I have to relight sage sticks very often, as the amber goes out. Not this one, it kept burning the entire time. It even touched on some dragon’s blood that was in the shell, surprising us with a burst of mystical scent that came out of seemingly nowhere. Sam spoke of his late friend and told us his stories, as he showed us his things, with a smile that tried to hide teary eyes. As he showed us Robert’s books, I immediately recognized my own metaphysical books that I’ve held dear for so long, the books that started me on the journey of new thought. I saw myself in Robert in that moment, and the shared sentiment of Humanity that seeks to escape or deny the reality of death. I thought about how one day too, my own books will have belonged to someone who passed away. It feels as though oftentimes, we engage with Spirit in an attempt to preserve the self and the earth suit, as though we could hold back the tide of impermanence and decay. That was a reminder that the goal of spiritual practice is to live freely and intrepidly in the face of, not in spite of, not in denial of, life and death and the realities that they lay. Perhaps down that route is where death loses its sting.
Sam wanted to make sure that Robert’s items would continue on with purposeful lives. I was entrusted with two beautiful Buddha statutes, a Shaman oracle deck that has fascinated me so far, a Cosmic Tribe tarot deck that is an absolute hoot and a testament to Robert’s spirit (I peaked at a card while there and my significator came out!). Some crystals, boxes and containers for smudging; metaphysical and shamanism books; angel oracle decks; and, as predicted by the Death card, a skull. A coyote skull, I believe. The coyote is a powerful desert messenger. Like the coyotes that roam our desert streets and sing their piercing songs in the night. So it was that the evening gave way to the night, and the crescent moon finally reached its place of refuge behind the now pitch-black mountain range, just like that soul that once shone bright but that has now found rest behind the veils of this life. Good night, friend. May your spirit soon be ready to herald new the daylight.
