Special Announcement! I’m honored to be part of a group of tarot readers supporting Southerners on New Ground Durham’s Black Mamas Bail Out Action. Use this link (also in image below) to book a reading from one of us on a pay-what-you-can basis. 100% of the proceeds will be going towards the Bail Out Action.
Hello Lovely Subscribers,
I swear I thought of this title before realizing I was referencing the iconic porcelain figurines. You know, the ones with the imploring teardrop-shaped eyes that dominated many a knickknack shelf and continue to exist to this day.
(Lest anyone think I’m throwing shade at Precious Moments collectors, let it be known that I collect deranged-looking animal salt and pepper shakers from the 1930s - I truly cannot judge.)
Following this realization, it then dawned on me that, like the innocent characters in the Precious Moments collection, the Six of Cups showcases adorable youth and themes of innocence, nostalgia, and tenderness. Sometimes tarot leads you to some weird connections.
The Six of Cups is a card that can often get sidelined because it’s so touching. We have a habit of discounting the complexity of so-called “positive” emotions, experiences, and, yes, even tarot cards. When this card comes up in a reading, it’s easy for people to say, “Nice, themes of friendship, childhood experiences, and goodwill,” and call it a day.
In my years as a reader I’ve been most surprised by the layers found in these “happy cards.” You’d never guess that The Six of Cups can also refer to moments of dangerous naïveté and unwarranted trust. But for today, I’ll stick with the positive and dig a little deeper.
Lately, I’ve been noticing the Six of Cups showing up in our heightened sensitivity to relationships, social interactions, and our tender feelings. In this card we see an older child giving a cup to a younger one (flaunting any and all social-distancing recommendations). It’s an image of open and genuine affection, care, and intimacy. Now that the pandemic has spread us farther apart physically, this type of interaction is coming into further awareness: We notice both the absence of such gestures and the power of them when they do occur.
I remember going to visit a friend for the first time since social distancing started in Spring. It was nearing early summer and I hadn’t seen another human being except for my husband in two months. We were to meet in his driveway where I’d pick up some plants he’d started in his greenhouse. Quick and easy.
As soon as I stepped out of my car, masked and ready to stay six feet away, I noticed my cheeks flush and my heart rate rise. It was so good to see another person! For the next ten minutes, as we chatted about seed companies and turnips, I was having a parallel physical and emotional reaction that seemed like it would better fit helicopter skiing in the Alps. It was exhilarating, joyous, and totally overwhelming.
In the “before times,” many of us didn’t think to look closer at our face-to-face interactions. They happened so frequently and in so many places, to a numbing effect. Driving away from my friend’s house, I realized how important it was to simply spend time with another person in any capacity and how so much magic was going on under the surface of those interactions. Quitting them cold-turkey made them obvious when I jumped back in. It would happen again when I cried after the man taking my order at Biscuitville called me “sweetie” several days later, or when I saw a baby for the first time, called an old friend, or waved to neighbors. It hasn’t really stopped since.
We enact the exchange of cups shown in the Six so frequently, it’s easy to overlook the magic and power of this gesture. Sharing space, words, support, laughter, solidarity, and support - all of these heal and connect us in ways we can’t fully express. Though I balk at the overuse of “silver-lining” the pandemic, it has brought me closer to the preciousness of these moments (I’m sorry, I had to) and how much I value them.
Whether they’re remote and online or six feet away, these experiences bring so much richness and beauty to our lives. I hope we never take them for granted again, or at least can remember how lucky we are to be able to do so.