Maranda read tarot for me. When you’re deep in your misery, it’s good to have another reader slap you out of it.
She even used her gigantic deck. The one that “yells at you”.
I needed a yelling at.
She drew the High Priestess. The High Priestess sits at the entrance to the Temple, the Torah in her lap, the moon at her feet, the horns of Isis on her head. She is an image of power and deep mystery, and she is many a Pagan Witch’s model of Divine Presence.
Maranda said, you are in your High Priestess power right now.
I said, I don’t feel much like a High Priestess.
She said, no one said being in your power feels good all the time.
Can it at least feel like things are possible?
She said, they are. But recall, the wisdom of the Empress– of plenty, and creativity, of resplendent beauty and effusive love — is what you’re thinking of. The wisdom of the High Priestess is the precious resource not wasted. She knows, but she does not speak. She possesses, but she does not display. She only shares when the right questions are asked.
I don’t feel much like speaking to anyone right now; weird for me, I said.
Then don’t, said Maranda. That precious light doesn’t need to be a perpetual beacon; that wise water of the soul doesn’t have to be a fountain. You can dim your light to save your energy. You can shut off that tap and wait to turn it on until you’re replenished. The person or people who have been drinking from your spring and basking in your light and taking that for granted are likely now missing you, worried about you, and maybe freaking out because they didn’t realize how much you gave to them. They want it back, alright — but now they have to ask you for it and wait. And they have to be grateful again for your wisdom and your presence, your friendship and your love.
I need more time, I said.
Then take it, she said. Go into the Temple and close the door. Keep your light to yourself for as long as you need. Don’t listen to the pounding on the door … And when you step back out, know that you can always return when you need to…
..and then maybe those who think they can call the shots with you will instead realize what they lose when you aren’t shining your light at them, she said. Let them worry. Let them appreciate you again. You aren’t obligated to say a word. Let them learn from your absence as much as your presence.
We see the High Priestess’s public face on the card. She is admired. Venerated. But too unapproachable to be loved.
There is no card of her inside the closed-up Temple sobbing under the weight of her wisdom.
Maranda drew another card … The Two of Cups.
Come out when you’re ready, she said. It’s going to get better…