A Deck of Angels | Catherine Viel

By Catherine Viel, April 2, 2023

(Golden Age of Gaia)

April 1, 2023

Before you leave, the fortune teller reminds you that the future is never set in stone. ~ Erin Morgenstern



Lately I’m realizing the truth of something Dr. Peebles has said to me several times. We come to this schoolhouse called Planet Earth complete with (but consciously unaware of) everything we’ve already learned from life on Earth, and everything we’re privy to between lives. Or so he has said, and others have said, and I generally agree.

So when I’m drawn to something new, like Tarot, it’s frustrating because the cards don’t seem new to me. I feel I know how to read them, how to channel and intuit with these tools. They are my friends. Even though I’m aware of the purported necessity of the veil between me and everything I truly know, I still feel cheated that I can’t just slot that indwelling comprehension into place.

On the other hand, it’s fun to be learning. What an exploration! How exciting to pace my way, card by card, through the workshops from Tarot by Janine. The major arcana, the minor arcana, the court cards. Why are Aces so important? Why does it matter what cards are next to each other in a reading, in other words, how a card is aspected?

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It’s almost like I’m simultaneously the teacher and the student. The teacher part says, this is the source that we will use right now. These words, these realizations and discoveries, are how you add to that which you already know. Yes, you brought this knowledge with you, but you didn’t know this particular teacher. You’ve never heard those particular words about this subject.

You’ve never dwelt in this body, in this year of the accepted timeline 2023. Your brain is different, this time around. Your DNA is not the same as it once was. Your mind has absorbed everything that’s happened up to this moment of this life. Everything that you have added to your Self informs the learning you are doing right now.

My typical reaction of I should know this already, why do I have to go through this again, can cause me to jettison new projects before I even begin. But I feel such a strong kinship with the angels of these cards, I’m able to negotiate with the impatient self so it agrees to wait. There is some reward in this process, a treasure to unearth, and I just know it’s worth the retread.

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On the larger stage of “important” things—the health or illness of self and family, the accelerated crumbling of the outer world—Tarot doesn’t matter even a little. These pieces of pasteboard with their bright pictures and amazing stories are meaningless.

That’s the logical view. The inner child, the heart, smiles whenever we contemplate our new adventure of the Tarot.

Instead of fiddling while Rome burns or the Titanic sinks, I’ll be shuffling beautiful bright cards and spreading them on a silk cloth like a midnight scatter of jewels. The world around me may be whirled up in a tornado of events before it’s resettled, scattered in a new pattern, but I will sit here and meditate upon these colorful patterns and messages.

A year from now, life on Earth may be so different that such a moment could never happen. These cards, and many of our other divining methods and tools, could seem as clunky and crude as flint striking fire.

So I will engage now, while I can perceive meaning and receive enjoyment from this learning process, and from re-meeting these long-lost friends, these colorful and garrulous angels of the cards.