Physician, Heal Thyself

The Ace of Cups contains the beginning of all things emotional and creative. It is the initiation of love, happiness and compassion— or— ill-favored— their opposites. In order for the positive aspects of these concepts to enter one’s life, one must begin with the self. A huge cup is offered. We are invited to drink from it. The drink is the realization of the self.

Yourself. Myself. Himself and herself. One’s own self. It is only when we are able to love ourselves— not in a self-righteous or selfish way but in a forgiving and compassionate way— that the door opens for us to love and in turn be loved by others. Creative expression is the ability to share our inner experience with others. The ace of cups gives us the opportunity to realize this— to make it real.

“You can’t change the world. The best thing you can do is change yourself.”

—Mahatma Gandhi

Fantasy, illusion, imagination, wishful-thinking, choices: these are the meanings of the Seven of Cups. Fantasy represents something unattainable or unrealistic. Illusion is seeing something in the world that is not there. Imagination is useful for coming up with things that have never before been done: new solutions to problems or representing things in a new manner. And wishful-thinking often results in poor choices.

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I showed the picture to an acquaintance named Joe. He asked what it was about.
“Fantasy,” I replied, succinctly.
“Do you always fantasize about dragons?” he asked.
I shook my head and frowned. “No, never.”

He didn’t get it, and he wasn’t interested. He wasn’t interested in what went on in other’s heads and how they viewed the world. He wasn’t interested in symbols and meanings that were different than his own. It was pointless to argue or explain anything to him. He had majored in philosophy long ago in college. It seemed the outcome of his education was the philosophy (Fantasy—? Illusion—? Imagination—? Wishful-thinking—? Choice to believe—? ) that if he argued long & hard enough with someone, he could always bring that person around to see the world in the righteous way of Joe. A person could tell him a story from their own life and if Joe didn’t believe it, that person was wrong. I never argued with him or explained myself. It was pointless.

People generally use imagination to fantasize about sex or coming into money or sex or building a huge addition on their house or sex or throttling their boss or sex or drugs or a cigarette or being famous at whatever, and these things are all more or less realistic, tho at times highly improbable. All fantasy is based on reality, even fantastic worlds in works of fiction. The more fantastic a created world is— made-up words, different forces of gravity, never-before-described beings, strange customs, etc.— the more difficult it is for others to relate to that world. In order to be able to appreciate something, we need to be able to relate to it. 100% pure fantasy is actually hard to come by. Abstract art is close. This is why extreme abstraction in art took a while to accept: society did not have a basis on which to relate to the artist’s imagination. With years of practice, we’re coming around.

Have I ever fantasized about dragons? No, never, tho I’m sure plenty people do. I used to fantasize that I owned a flying horse who would come down from the sky when I called his name. I would run to him and he would carry me up in the sky, far, far away from school. As the years wore on, it became more and more difficult for me to imagine unrealistic things like growing wings and walking on air. I grew up.

My fantasies turned to somewhat realistic things that I wished to attain. My imagination tumbled over creative ways to achieve my goals. This is a mature use of imagination. Making the same mistake over and over and imagining we’re getting somewhere; thinking we can always win an argument if we just argue long enough; believing we have the one and only correct view point; remaining captive to addiction and thinking it does not harm us; and generally falling prey to intoxication and escapism is immature use of imagination.

I chose to draw dragons because I see dragons as representational of fantasy. Dragons sitting around drinking tea with politely lifted pinkies? Pure fantasy, impersonal, and kinda sweet.

When I first began illustrating this deck, I had no overall knowledge of the tarot deck. The cards seemed to all have random and varied meanings. I searched through one deck after another looking for cohesiveness. I couldn’t always see how the meaning of the card was depicted in the image, and many of the images within a single deck seemed incredibly similar. I was ignorant, of course. Sometimes wonderful new things come of ignorance. Other times, experienced people are just confused by the ignorance of others. I hope my deck contains more images which evoke the former sentiment (wonder) rather than the later (confusion).

When I finally came to understand this card, it meant boredom or dissatisfaction with the status quo. The women in the image are disengaged, apathetic, disappointed, and unmotivated. There is little that excites them. They have become withdrawn and sulky, stubborn, ungrateful and self-absorbed. They neglect the needs of others and think only of their own wounds.They are falling out of connection with society. They wallow in self-imposed isolation. They have dropped their glasses. Their psychiatrists have diagnosed them as depressed.

In order to overcome this situation, they need to be alert and open themselves to new experiences. It is time for them to turn inward & examine their own minds to find out what disturbs them and to gain clarity. Research and meditation may wake up their minds. Exercise, fresh air, and healthy food are also useful.

Do not let time slip away! Life is precious. Nurture it. Take note of every-day abundance. Notice what you have. Open your eyes and be thankful!

Artist: Jessica Shanahan

Like unripe fruit, memories sweeten with age. Like fine wine, they leave a complex mingling of flavors on the tongue. The Six of Cups is a card of sweet remembrance of things gone by. It is possible to drink from the cup memory to the point of intoxication and delusion.

When we think we remember something correctly, we must remind ourselves that the contents of the mind are fluid. Beginning at the moment of occurrence, memory of events changes over time. Each one of us— each body— views an event through the filter of our past experiences. Unfortunately, there is no unbiased bank of memory for us to draw from. There is no unbodied observer, completely devoid of experience, with whom we can consult about what really did happen. Each of us sees an event from a slightly different angle, from a slightly different body, from a slightly different mindset. Our memories are skewed by emotion and circumstance. Visions of the past are as plentiful and as varied as visions of the future.

The people on the Six of Cups card descry knowledge of the past by reading tea leaves. Photo albums, journals, scrap-books, stones and driftwood, animal bones, stars and layers of soil, tree rings and faerie rings, a scattering of ashes, the shapes of clouds, a crystal ball, history books, faerie tales, or Tarot cards could all be used for the same purpose. The past is just as certain as the future. Perhaps this card could be seen as a reminder to remain present.