The Weekend Tarot Reading — Sunday, September 30, 2012

By Sarah Taylor

Woo-wheeeee! Three Staffs (Wands in the Rider-Waite Smith deck), associated with the element of fire. A veritable conflagration – but one that has maturity, is inclusive, and offers the highest potential of the Staffs suit: eros, spirituality and creativity. I look at this reading, and I too am ignited with the passionate heat they radiate. But it is a burn that doesn’t destroy — or doesn’t destroy what holds potential; it is a burn that illuminates and offers you the possibility to activate new alliances, new avenues of discovery, new ways of relating, and new ways of channelling your talents. It might even reveal new talents.

At the centre of the reading is the Ace of Staffs. If you’re unfamiliar with the Aces, they represent their suit in pure form: they are the most ‘spiritual’ of the minor arcana (the 56 cards based on a traditional deck of playing cards) in that they are in potential: they offer everything and nothing at the same time. When an Ace appears in a reading, it means that something has been released to us, but it is up to us to take it, harness it, and use it. How we then use it is played out in cards 2 through 10.

Aces, therefore, ask for our responsibility. If we do not step up and activate them, they will remain in the spirit realm — a gift, unopened. But if we do, and we do it with finesse, then oh yeah: woo-wheeee!

Staff/Wands energy is unmistakeable. It is that prickly, tingly sensation that you get when you are shot through with libido, the psychoanalytical term for creative energy. (I would also see it as representative of prana or chi.) Wherever, and however, you feel that sensation is where it is most activated. Yes, that goes for sexual attraction too, but it is in no way limited to that.

Libido is the urge to do something, or perhaps more accurately, to bring something through — because what we are bringing through is Spirit. We are giving it expression in our world, in whichever way we feel moved to. And so our responsibility is in fact two-fold: first the responsibility of meeting it halfway in order to work with it and, second, the responsibility for our creation. We can choose to do neither, but the presence of the other two cards suggests that we can absolutely do both.

The Four of Staffs represents that idea of inclusiveness I refer to in the opening paragraph. In the card, a figure sits under an awning that is being supported by four staffs. He is smiling, his legs are splayed, his arms raised above him, one hand open, the other pointing to the sky. There are two phallic-shaped ‘mini staffs’ (indeed) on either side of him. It feels like a form of worship that also holds space for the physical, which is one way in which Tantra has been described:

[T]he practices of Tantra … in their classical form are more oriented to the married householder than the monastic or solitary renunciant, and thus exhibited what may be called a world-embracing rather than a world-denying character. [Wikipedia]

The Rider-Waite Smith version of this card is one where two figures beckon to us, as viewers, to step through a doorway of four wands and join them. It is community, belongingness, homecoming in the service of Spirit. We find a niche with people with whom we can forge bonds that will produce whatever it is we are being called to bring into form.

And finally, we have the Lord of Staffs — the King — in the third card.

There is a saying that fire is a good servant, but a bad master. The King understands that if he relinquishes his authority to the passion that fuels him, then he is of little use to anyone. And the message that he might be bringing us in this instance is: neither are we. Fire can be channelled with great effect, or it can rage unchecked and consume everything in its path. Perhaps it is about knowing how to work with it, and how to take precautions. Perhaps the King embodies the idea of responsibility: that when we own our power and our experiences, we are not consumed by the agenda of someone, or something, else. [Authority, power and balance: the Kings in tarot, October 12, 2011]

I cannot think of a better card to work with the potential of the Ace than a King or a Queen. If anyone is going to get things moving, and in a way that is productive and effective, they are. The King is a ruler — a ruler over his own life. He does not feel in awe of, or inferior to, the gift that the Ace offers. Look at the reading: he is actively addressing the Ace, his body faced towards it, his hands open in the position that symbolises birth in the Xultun Tarot. His staff is a mirror image of the Ace; he is in service to Spirit on Earth, but is also a potent creator himself.

On the other side, the figure under the awning is smaller, but no less of a participant. He is symbolic of how that creation is channelled: matter and Spirit coming together in a form of communing or community, or both. The jaguar — medicine animal — lies in the Ace, facing towards the Four. This is a healing reading. Healing through relating, but high-octane relating that is cognizant of what is being asked of it. If you want to know what synergy looks like, this is it.

Astrology correspondences: Four of Staffs (Leo, Sun), Ace of Staffs (Cancer/Pisces), King of Staffs (Aries)

If you want to experiment with tarot cards and don’t have any, we provide a free tarot spread generator using the Celtic Wings spread, which is based on the traditional Celtic Cross spread. This article explains how to use the spread.