This is the Trick

[finncullen]

Yesterday on my pillow I found a present, a gift that I was not expecting just before bedtime. What a lovely surprise. It was face down, and the back of it - toward me - was a familiar and complex design of interlacing knotwork. Hand drawn and identical - IDENTICAL - in every way to all the others in the set. His tarot deck.

Pursing my lips in concern I didn’t touch it straight away, not wanting to turn it over and plunge myself into the usual challenges and anxieties of trying to decipher whatever cryptic bloody message was being sent this time.

But the anxiety was there now already, and not knowing would make it worse. Whether it’s clicking the link, opening the private message, seeing the unexpected package on the doorstep or.. turning the card. It needs doing, and delay just makes it worse.

Thumb and finger gripped the card at either edge and I turned it.

Which would it be?

The sudden inescapable destruction of The Tower (and oh how I wished I had glanced behind me before I turned it! The hairs on my neck stood up suddenly)?

The sinister grinning skull of Death that seemed to know the joke?

The High Priestess’s beautiful enigmatic wisdom that offered illusion and dreams?

The Empress and her enfolding protective love? Hardly likely.

No.

No.

Beautifully drawn with a skill I have never been able to even approach, bold slender lines of ink and delicate colour washes. A slim young man in tunic and cap, a carefree smile upon his face as he strolls blithely on, oblivious to the abyss before him, staff and bundle over his shoulder prepared for the journey. At his heels a small dog yaps and nips at his ankle.

Card Zero.

The Fool.

In the story of the Greater Arcana, it is the only card that has no number. In the story of enlightenment that the Greater cards tell when read in order - the initiatory journey of the soul through existence - the Fool both precedes and succeeds the journey.

He is the innocent - untouched by the World - oblivious to its hazards. Placed before the first card (that oh so skillful Magus) he represents carefree naivety. The dog is his higher self, his soul, his guide, yapping and warning him of the dangers ahead, alerting him to the abyss.

Placed after the final card, the World, the symbol of perfection completion and balance, the Fool shows the perfection of that innocence. A perfect soul. Carefree once more after all the trials and having risen above them. Ready to stroll blithely on since the worst has been faced already and overcome. But the dog is still there at his heels, a reminder of what was, a noisy nuisance or a still vital warning.

I looked at the card and narrowed my eyes in thought.

Was he telling me that I was naive? Unprepared for the journey. It was highly unlikely that he was paying me the compliment of being an enlightened soul, since his compliments were few and far between. When they arrived, his compliments were rarely expected, startling and usually disturbingly intimate and open. Then he would hate himself and be in a foul mood for a week.

Or perhaps of course the message was simply that he thought me a fool. That was a more common sentiment.

I went to throw the card into the bin by my bed but placed it carefully on my shelf instead. It was a lovely work of art and he would probably want it back at some point.

Time for sleep, I undressed and climbed into bed and said my electronic prayers and cybernetic lullabies then finally turned off the light and closed my eyes.

His voice spoke in my ear - he’d been there all along somehow, waiting for the dramatically apt moment to make himself known.

“Goodnight Fido.”