Last night, I dreamt I was squatting by a campfire on the ocean shore, laying down tarot cards. The cards were visually from one specific deck, but it felt like it could have been any deck.
I laid down nine cards in a three by three spread that ended with the Tower. Alone on the beach, I interpreted the cards to myself out loud with words I could not remember nor understand.
I picked up the cards, one by one, in the same order I laid them down. The first three cards transformed into something like buckeyes as I picked them up. The second three cards transformed into something like large pumpkin seeds cat’s eye shells as I picked them up. The third three cards transformed into something like small carved tokens as I picked them up.
I put them in the tarot bag with the rest of the cards, stood up, and left the beach, ending the dream.
This afternoon, I was bored and dug out the deck I remember from the dream, squatted down, and laid out random cards in a three by three spread.
10 of Cups, 7 of Swords, Justice.
7 of Wands, 9 of Swords, The Empress.
Page of Swords, 3 of Cups, The Tower.
When is the Tower, not the Tower?
When it is the card that got me into tarot in the first place.
Circles and Spirals. Turning in, turning out.