So, last week, I was at a holiday party with my friends. ("But there are no major holidays at the vernal equinox this year!" you might protest. Gentle reader, do not worry about it.) As part of the festivities, the host was performing Tarot readings. I, of course, got in on that action. To save time, we were doing simple three-card spreads, past present and future. My query was simple: what's the outlook on my current creative project?
The card for the past was the
Seven of Cups, a card signifying potential, imagination, and daydreaming. And, like, yes. I know that my previous attempts at long-form creative writing have all gotten bogged down in the planning phase. I am well aware of the fact that I get lost in the enjoyment of thinking about how cool it will be and then rob myself of the motivation to actually
make the damn thing. But, like, did it have to
say so, publicly, in front of all my friends and also an impressionable toddler whose view of me is now no doubt forever tainted?
(Something like this also happened the last time I got a reading from him. Little in this world has made me question my rational-materialistic view of reality quite so much as the way his Tarot deck invariably goes for my jugular.)
