USING THE TAROT AS A SYNCHRONISTIC TOOL
Patricia C. Fleming
Interest in the Tarot has been growing steadily for the last few years among the students of C. G. Jung. Jung’s great contribution to western thought can perhaps be summed up in Van der Post’s comment that “he was the first to establish the most meaningful of all paradoxes: that the conscious and the unconscious exist in a profound state of interdependence of each other and the well-being of one is impossible without the well-being of the other. If ever the connection between these two great states of being is diminished or impaired, man becomes sick and deprived of meaning; if the flow between one and the other is interrupted for long, the human spirit and life on earth are replunged in chaos and night.”1
The achievement of consciousness is the great work for all of us. But this is not just a rational process dependent upon verbal articulation and logical thought processes. On the contrary, Jung makes it quite clear that modern man is “sick and deprived of meaning because for centuries … he has increasingly pursued and slanted his development on the assumption that consciousness and the powers of reason are one and the same thing.”2 In other words, and to use a currently popular metaphor, we have paid almost exclusive attention to our left brain and ignored the right. Since it is the right brain which is associated with the capacities for intuition, imagination, and feeling, we have cut ourselves off from the very functions that feed our souls.
Jung believes that each one of us has a center of guidance within our psyche. We can call it by many names: our Unknown Self, our inner teacher, guide, guru, etc. Some of us have learned to pick up the guidance we need by “listening” directly to the inner voice. Others of us have learned to read the meaning of the images that our guide sends to us in dreams and waking imagination. More and more of us are glad to utilize the additional help we can get by using the verbal and visual images that are incorporated in various symbol systems such as the I Ching, the Bible, Astrology, Alchemy and the Tarot. Jung first concentrated on word association and then the dream as a vehicle of communication between the unconscious and the conscious. But he came to take very seriously the contribution of these traditional and often ancient systems and remains a pioneer in the modern psychological recognition and use of them.
Let me try to describe how I think it works. We decide on one of these “systems,” we apply a means of selecting one or more images from it, and we then ask our guide to use this “given” image to convey to us the guidance we need and seek. Actually, two processes are at work here: first, the process by which the particular image selected by us “happens” to have the special meaning for which we seek; second, how the guide utilizes that image to get the message through to our conscious ego. It is not mechanical causality that makes the “right” image available to us at the precise moment we need it, but a non-causal conjunction of our own inner need and an outer event; i.e., our finger landing on the “right” passage in the Bible, our throw of the yarrow sticks leading to the helpful I Ching text, the draw of an illuminating card from the Tarot deck. For this reason these symbol systems are sometimes referred to as synchronistic tools. They are tools that help our unconscious communicate with our conscious mind.
As for the second process, the guide within us takes the text or picture selected in this synchronistic manner, and projects onto it the images and symbols that the unconscious, the neglected aspect of ourselves needs for growth. For example, the unconscious may suggest a new direction we need to take, an unused talent to employ, an old crippling attitude to discard, a new self-affirmation to practice, a powerful new resource to put to work. Simultaneously, our conscious ego, through our intuition, searches the picture for these projections and “reads” their meaning. By having the unsuspected inner need or resource projected onto the Tarot card “out there,” we can work on it consciously in terms of our psychological/spiritual problem. Or, to turn the perspective around, as we relate sensitively and imaginatively to the archetypal images of the Fool, the Hermit, the Magician, and the Lovers (or any of the other cards that we draw), we connect ourselves to layers of wisdom deep within us. In this process we get “unstuck” from predominantly rational attitudes and move into a more flowing, feeling, intuitive mode in which we are more open to new insights and meanings.
What is the Tarot? It is a pack of 78 cards that can be divided into two groups. One group of 56 cards forms the less important minor arcana, and from this group comes our deck of 52 modern playing cards. It is composed of four suits, (wands, cups, swords, and pentacles) each of which consists of ten small cards and four court cards (the king, queen, knight, page). The other group of 22 cards forms the major arcana, a series of images which several authorities (such as Alfred Douglas and Sallie Nichols) regard as symbolic representations of the archetypal journey of individuation. Some people like to work with the whole pack; others prefer to use just the major arcana.
There are a great many Tarot decks, possibly as many as 150, and they differ in varying degrees. Sallie Nichols prefers the “Marseilles deck” thought to be the oldest deck used in Europe going back to the 14th century. I prefer to use the Waite-Ryder deck which was designed by Pamela Coleman Smith under the direction of the occult scholar A. E. Waite in 1910. One factor that distinguishes all Tarot decks is the extraordinarily rich symbolism found in their designs. Whether the image on the card is simple or complex, almost every detail of it can be read as a symbol. Some of these symbols have more or less standardized traditional meanings going back hundreds of years such as the numbers 1 to 10, the primary colors, certain abstract figures such as the lemniscape and the cross. Other rich imagery can be derived from the traditional flowers (rose, lily, iris, lotus, pomegranate), animals (lions, eagle, snake, salamander, rabbit, ram), objects (sword, sceptre, chariot, throne, crown, church, castle, road), landscape features (hills, valleys, snowcapped mountains, ocean, stream, fountain, rocks), heavenly bodies (sun, moon in all its quarters, star). Still other features such as costume, facial expression, body language, positioning of the figures in the landscape, contribute their part. This wealth of symbols constitute a vast vocabulary for communication with the unconscious which can be read both by the specialist who has studied comparative mythology and symbology, and by the novice who feels directly drawn to their meanings. In short, the Tarot can be seen as a private theatre in which we can re-enact or re-live our private lives.
There is a great deal of mystery and legend surrounding the origin of the Tarot. Some scholars hold that it originated in India and China. Others believe that its roots are to be found in the Egyptian mystery cults. Court de Gebelin, writing in 1781, asserted that the word Tarot was derived from the Egyptian words Tar meaning “road” and Ro meaning “royal” and hence represented The Royal Road to Wisdom. Many elements of the Tarot seem to derive from some of the great Middle East occult traditions such as the Hermetic and the Jewish Kabbalah. There are scholars who find in the Tarot close parallels to the Hebrew alphabet, or symbols that represent events described in the Book of Revelation. Tarot elements are found in the symbolism of both the Rosicrucians and the Masons.
How the Tarot was brought to Europe is another matter for speculation. Manley P. Hall suggests that the Knights Templar, during the crusades, discovered this specialized knowledge among the Saracens and smuggled the cards to Europe as pages of their sacred books, or as innocuous cards for amusement. The gypsies have also been credited with introducing the cards into Europe, thus strengthening the link with Egypt, and certainly the first mention of the Tarot in England was during the reign of Henry VIII, which seems to coincide with their arrival in that country. The Catholic Church banned the Tarot repeatedly because of its depiction of the Emperor, the Empress, the Pope and the Devil, and they may not have circulated freely in Europe until after the French Revolution.
The potentialities of the Tarot have always fascinated imaginative minds. In 1851 Eliphas Levi stated that “an imprisoned person with no other book than the Tarot, if he knew how to use it, could in a few years acquire universal knowledge and would be able to speak on all subjects with unequalled learning in inexhaustible eloquence.” In 1913, F. D. Ouspensky was intrigued by the idea that the Tarot deck could be structured to represent the relations between God, man, and the universe. What I choose to believe, in all this fantastic jungle of legend and speculation is, that for two thousand years or so the human psyche has found the Tarot pictures to be a valuable means of communicating the wisdom of the inner world to the conscious ego, and that modern man can find them equally useful today.
The Tarot is not for parlor games or casual use. It must be used gently. It must be considered seriously and playfully at the same time. There is no need for heady stuff. As M. L. von Franz points out, the unconscious more often yields to an open, playful, childlike approach.
There are many “spreads” or arrangements of the cards that can be used in seeking answers to questions. Some can take two or three hours, and lead one into deep introversion. The simplest approach is to draw two cards, one to signify the place the questioner is in at the moment, a second to suggest a course of action the questioner could take. A third card can be taken by the dealer from the bottom of the pack and used later as a modifier or a clarifier if this is needed. As in the interpretation of dreams, I can help my friend by illuminating the meaning of the Tarot card which he has drawn, but the final interpretation is the one which he considers valid, and which meets his need or answers his question.
When a friend asks me for a “reading” from Tarot, we start first with the need or the question. I make sure that the interest is genuine and not just idle curiosity. The question is best written down, and is more successfully answered when posed in terms of attitudes, qualities, sources of help, forms of self-expression. “What do I need to learn to solve this problem?” “How do I need to look at this situation that has developed with my neighbor?” “What is blocking my progress in such and such a direction?” I would advise a questioner not to ask “why” questions such as “Why has this happened to me?”
Questions that start with “why” tend to bring on self-blame and self-reproach. The Tarot is not too helpful with direct, factual questions such as “What stock shall I sell?” or “Which man shall I marry?” Much more help comes if you can express the question so as to explore your attitude towards property and money, or your feelings about men and a committed relationship. Let us look at two examples.
Roberta is a friend who asked for a reading. She recently lost her husband and faces a new life style with considerable trepidation and a great deal of feeling, justifiably, over the past that is over. She was at first totally unable to formulate her question, but with help did manage to write it down to her own satisfaction. I asked her to repeat her now formulated question out loud “What attitudes do I need to change in myself in order to begin a new life?” as she cut the cards in order to impress the question upon her conscious mind and to let it sink down deep into her inner self. We were quiet together for as long as she needed until she found the courage to proceed. She decided on a two card draw, and the first card she drew was the Queen of Cups.
She described this card as “the picture of a mournful woman holding a large ornate cup in her arms. She sits facing into the west, and dangles her foot in the water. It looks like she has been sitting there for a long time.” Traditionally the cups suit stands for feelings, and when I told her this, she exclaimed, “Yes! that’s me all right. I’ve just been sitting there hanging on to my feelings. Look at my foot. It’s turning blue!” I asked her for her associations with the west, and she said that for her it meant looking into the sunset, into the past. A perfect symbolic description of her sad situation. The second card she drew was the Eight of Cups. More feelings here. The card shows a red-coated figure who has turned his back on the cups and crossed the river. The figure carries a staff and is clearly on a journey. Although we are now looking at a male figure, Roberta saw it as an aspect of herself. This second card very much suggested what Roberta needed to do: leave old feelings behind, cross the river, and take up the journey along her own path. The red cloak and the number eight on the card were additional elements to be considered. Traditionally the colour red suggests energy, vitality, warmth. The number eight is associated with preparation and organization, planning, and anticipating one’s needs.
Roberta and I were both moved by these images. Both cards seemed to suggest, with quite extraordinary precision, her present situation and what she needed to move ahead. She just needed a little inner clarification to start a new life. Another person in very different circumstances might have picked up totally different elements in the cards and have come to very different conclusions; but in a very real way, these were Roberta’s cards, and they had in them a message which she needed to hear at this time. She was helped to move from old, outworn attitudes and experiences into a more creative situation.
These insights did not come from the Tarot. But the Tarot cards, by synchronistically and vividly imaging her condition, activated images from her own inner center which gave her a new direction and new energy.
A young man asked for a reading and asked the question “What attitude should I take towards my delayed promotion?” He chose to do a simple one card draw. After thinking about it for a long time, he drew the Knight of Swords, an archetypal picture of a vigorous youth on a white horse charging into battle. He also is facing west, but in this case it represents not the sunset and the past, but the glorious future of opportunity and traditional adventure. The tip of the sword is out of the picture suggesting that the battle is to be symbolic and not actual. Swords traditionally suggest difficulties and conflicts.
Henry, the young man in this case, told me of his fears and anxieties about pressing his merits and capacities with his boss, and reported that he was beginning to feel overlooked for promotion and increasingly hostile. He feared that he was being overlooked because of his natural reticence and lack of confidence. This card suggested to both of us that considerable energy and assertiveness might be needed to convince his boss that promotion was his next move.
We talked about symbolic armour, and I reminded him that a Knight was in the service of a higher power, perhaps the King or the Self. The Knight cannot sit back and expect the world to come to his door. He must choose his own path, charge out, and run full tilt at the issues in question. He may need to consider additional questions: “How do I feel about promotion and further responsibility?” “How can I show more initiative and call attention to my own talents and capacities?” “ What will I do, and how will I feel if promotion doesn’t come along?” “Am I willing to stay in this job if I am not promoted?” “How do I really feel about my job?”
As we talked together, Henry’s excitement and self-image grew before my eyes. He obviously felt more equal to confronting his boss the next day and demanding more consideration for his long overdue promotion. “I guess I’ve got to expect conflict,” he told me, “But I see that I need to fight a little harder for my rights.” It was a healthy conclusion for an overly accommodating young man. It is just possible that this is exactly what his inner guru wanted to say to him, and that his promotion may depend on his developing this new assertiveness.
These are not unusual cases, nor are they very dramatic. But it seems to me that they are typical of the way the Tarot can help us make necessary inner decisions that can be reflected in our lives. Used in this manner, with thoughtful, inner listening, the Tarot can be a creative tool for self-understanding and for awakening the sleeping centers of inner wisdom that can help us find meaning and energy in our daily lives. Note that this approach does not involve using the Tarot cards as oracles of divination.
Jung’s theory of synchronicity helps us to understand how Roberta and Henry drew the particular cards which seem to mirror their conditions so perfectly. We are beginning to accept the astonishing notion that there are no accidents, and that the inner and the outer are parts of a seamless world which is all one. The very person we need to talk to phones unexpectedly this morning. The very book with the message we need to hear comes to hand. For me, this encourages an attitude of trust and expectancy towards life.
Living with an awareness of this inner-connectedness is also to live with new wonder and delight and a childlike openness to the possibilities around us. It is literally to live in that world in which we are assured that “no sparrow falls” without divine awareness. Everything, good and bad, becomes important and unimportant at the same time. It is to step into the world of double awareness where we can see our daily lives as an unfolding drama that asks simultaneously for our full devotion and total detachment. Dynamite!
1. Laurens Van der Post, in the Introduction to Jung and the Tarot: an Archetypal Journey, Sallie Nichols, Samuel Weiser, N.Y. 1980. See our review of the book. p. XIII.
2. Ibid., p. XIII-XIV.
PATRICIA C. FLEMING, a member of the FCRP Executive Committee, co-chairs (with her husband Mac) the Round Table Associates, a Jung working group. She is a painter, has served for 21 years as a guide at the Winterthur Museum, and has had the rare privilege of working with both Martha Jaeger and Fritz Kunkel.