I am driven to write about this. Driven to write about a recent sexual experience because, for lack of more mature phrasing, it blew my mind. I was Eve herself. I was Desire herself. It was a handful of times. More than a handful. Across two weekends.
Adam and Eve get expelled from the Garden, don’t they? They do. We did.
No wonder I kept seeing the Devil. How material we were, attached to the body’s compulsions, each in our own way, interlocking.
Who are you, Tarot, to comment (moralistically so it felt) on my love life?
But no — Tarot was merely describing what we were.
We MUST consider other decks, other images, other ideas of the body, the material, and not only this Lovers-good and Devil-bad mentality. And yet. I kept seeing it. At first.
And I see now that the Devil was, more than likely, guilt.
It’s no secret to anyone who knows me that I hope we’ll get to go back to the garden but, truth is, Adam and Eve did not go back.
Where then can we go? Who am I now if not Eve?
In the Tarot class we’ve been talking about the “construct” of the Fools’ Journey story in Tarot lore. How arbitrary it feels to me. That I never felt a real true story there, from Fool to World (and that anyone can make up their own and it’s just as relevant) but if the Devil is a problem then the answer, part of the answer, must be in the card that follows.
Now it makes sense. We cut the chains (the PAST, the Chiron wounds) from our necks and wrists, everything that keeps us locked up and stupid and then TOWER TOWER TOWER TOWER, the card that follows the Devil.
Yes the Tower exploded but now the shards of glass become the next card, the Star.