What's a few cards between friends?

6 months ago, I posted my first 'paranormal' themed blog post. Not that the weird and unexplained is ever far from my mind, but I'm a little surprised it's taken me so long to find the subject... well.. topical again. In that previous blog post, Its beginning to look a lot like orbs, a group of friends and I ventured out into the crisp Florida winter's night (on a random night when sweatshirts were indeed required) to a small community known for Spritiualism and psychic/mediums.

Scary movies and the odd suggestion of doing something different (spooky different) finally gave way to a friend giving me a tarot card reading tonight. In a well lit, national brand coffee shop. Because, well, why not?

Now, a few things to begin with. I believe in the possibility of just about anything, but I'm skeptical to my core. There are charlatans at every corner, people who believe they can do things they can't, and the odd person who has really, strangely accurate gut instincts. And let's not even dive into the philosophical debate of free will versus fate. (I mean, we could. I love that kind of stuff. But, you know, not the point here.) So for my thinking, having tarot cards read or a psychic reading or what have you varies from wildly entertaining to ho-hum. The point being, I don't live and plan based on the few random times I've experienced these things. I know some people do, and I mean no offense. For me, to date, I've not been bowled over by these particular experiences. But I'm open to the idea that I may cross paths with someone who is able to convince me of their authenticity.

This tarot experience evolved from our first outing to the Spiritualist tour. After a few people mentioned they hadn't had a psychic reading before or were interested in having their cards read, our friend C.Robin (Name changed to reflect, you know, privacy or something & not what they call him at the coffee shop) casually let us know he was well versed and willing to do a reading.

Here's the first thing I learned. You've got to make the request. After the offer was made, I waited and waited for the reading opportunity to present itself. No dice. I slid it into conversation on occasion. Interest was there, but again, no dice. I began to think maybe it was an offer politely made but not meant. About a month ago, give or take my inability to keep track of time, in conversation C.Robin mentioned that he couldn't just present the cards. We needed to ask, to have a question in mind. Oh. Ohhhhh. I had no idea there were rules when instigating metaphysical shenanigans between friends. See? You learn something new everyday.

As a kid, I didn't stay up late at sleep overs trying to call forth the spirits of serial killers specializing in pre-adolescent girls in a bathroom mirror. Or any spirits, for that matter. I asked for a ouija board on birthday and Christmas lists for years - to no avail. My interest in the weird and otherworldly seemed not to be shared with my friends, except for a friend of mine at about 10 or 11 who implored me to read a book his church produced on the evils of ouija boards. I lost the book at a scouting sleep over, which upset me more because I kinda liked this boy and not because I found the book riveting. Outside of reading my copy of Scary Stories or picking up the newest children's ghost book at the library, I didn't have much in the way of practical knowledge. Though I kind of doubt if I had played Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board it would have helped much now.

The second thing I was told is I had to have a specific question. Well hell's bells. My questions have questions. What is the meaning of life (42, duh), can humans achieve world peace, do I really have a shot winning the Publisher's Clearing house sweepstakes?  (Does that even still exist?) Am I taking this less seriously than I should? I feel like it, and yet, the whole thing left me a little giddy. So many books and movies and shows make use of the idea of tarot cards and divination. And here I am finally having my cards read by someone without a financial stake in how I'll take the session.

Have I mentioned I'm cynical? Most of my psychic readings end up with the person asking me for advice. WTF?! And yet, I'm entertained and curious enough to be willing to go once in a great while.

So the cards were put in order while I gleefully looked on. Like a kid at Christmas if I'm being honest. C.Robin proceeded to guide me through the process, card info, who could touch cards when, how things could be interpreted. All the things you could use to get someone to relax and then engage in casual conversation to glean info for a reading. As a starting place to help interpret the cards or to collect info to determine what the person is looking for. Depending on how you view it. And my friend? Oh he's good. If you don't have info on how charlatans work, if you don't find it fascinating how magicians do slight of hand or misdirection, if you are all in on the moment, it's a heck of show. I was entertained.

I'm sure the baristas were as well. Possibly a customer or two on the way to the restrooms. One thing I wasn't sure: is there coffee drinking etiquette when your cards are being read? I didn't think to ask before we got started, but I kept reaching for my cup and stopping short. Mostly, I didn't want to transfer condensation from my cup to the cards and ruin them. But, on the chance any of my energy or life is tied to these cards, I didn't want any problems. Like a coffee bean monster materializing or something.

What was my question and what came of my reading? First, I'm happy to report that no one came up to us and threw any religious symbols in our faces during the reading. Some of the people around here, you just never know. And my question? Well, for the purpose of this first tarot reading, I went a little obvious (at least I think so) and asked about writing/publication in my (more broadly my writing friends') future. My reasoning is this: while my friend has no financial stake in my reading, he does know things about me which might potentially lend itself to direct his interpretation of cards. Also? I have so many questions, but very few things I don't believe are flexible in their outcome so not a whole lot stuck out as something to ask.

As far as the reading, I felt like we should have been in Vegas in the middle of roulette and black jack tables. I jokingly referred to feeling like he should ask me to follow the card like in 3 card monte. He was being a showman and could probably make decent money at a fair or for a Halloween party hosting a tarot card reading table. Something to think about for a little extra holiday money, eh?

I shuffled my cards and was immediately reminded of my total lack of finesse at shuffling ordinary playing cards. I set them down after a few fumbled attempts.

"You done?"

"Yep."

"What makes you think you've shuffled the cards enough?" I watched C.Robin, a smile splitting my face, thoroughly enjoying the whole thing.

"'Cause it felt like it." I laughed. The more accurate answer? Because I felt like a dork if I shuffled those cards much longer. It felt like they needed a lot more shuffling. Performance anxiety.

The starter package, as I'll refer to the beginning of the reading, was heavy on the sword imagery.

Oh dear. Chaos. Upheaval. Not necessarily regarding my question, just about my life in general. I laughed, as I did most of the reading. Tell me something I don't know. Perhaps more to the point, tell me something YOU don't know. It's easy to see how quickly someone who wants to believe can be sucked in. Most of my cards were facing away from me, showing I didn't shuffle enough something being inverted or turned on its or my head. Family, something that impacts my family from long ago coming to the surface. C.Robin pointed out I had a tell there. And I knew it. It didn't happen instantly, maybe 30 seconds into his explanation of the card he was pointing to. My brain sorted through what could apply to this and *ding* we have a winner.

As C.Robin and I kvetch about our families regularly, sharing war stories if you will, it isn't at all shocking for him to get a hit by relating my cards to family. We had literally just talked about them by text an hour or two earlier. And there are few things that I discuss with as much openness as my family. It is, generally speaking, a sweet spot if you're going to read me. That's probably true with most people. I find most of my friends become animated at the mention of the weird thing their parents just did or their pain in the ass sibling. It's easy to get a reaction to work with and go from their. It's also just a universal concern. Family, strife, concern, love, old wounds.

Moving on to our lightning round, the cards that were specifically drawn to answer my posed question. Kind of less swords, but then a dead end. Family pulls at my endeavor and that's not going to change. I need to put myself first for a while. I write to escape, probably because of my family. And if I continue on with the way I'm doing things now, the dead end is the answer to my question. The writing career is not going anywhere in terms of making money. So sayeth the cards. C.Robin ended with things are able to be changed, nothing's set in stone, etc and so forth. But did I want to draw a final card? In all honesty, he started to explain that I may not want to because it's a 50/50 chance... and my brain was already manically chanting "Do it! Do it!" so I may have ignored a helpful warning. Or a recipe for spaghetti bolognese. I'll never know because I went for what was behind door number 2.

*Gong*

And that card, ladies and gentlemen, was heartbreak. I almost fell off the chair laughing. I know I clapped.

I was thoroughly entertained. And I deeply appreciate C.Robin taking the time out from his evening of writing to indulge a near life-long curiosity of mine. I suspect we have more notes to compare about our personal interests and experiences in this stuff. I need to buy him a cookie or coffee. And one of these days we need to keep the laptops safely stowed away in our bags and in the bone-melting light of day, compare those potentially strange notes. Like ghost hunts, dreams as omens, the unexplainable, the charlatans who make for good tv watching, things that made our hair stand on edge. You know, the basics.

I do see a practical kind of use for tarot cards, outside of general interest. In my bare bones skim of tarot info once I got home, I came across a mention of tarot cards being used along with meditation. C.Robin mentioned them being useful for personal reflection in that manner as well. A kind of focal point, if you will, for figuring out what's on your mind and puzzling through it. And anything that helps you figure out something for yourself gets a thumbs up from me.

Maybe at some point I'll do a little more research and even (finally) invest in my own deck. Until now, and my on-going shuffling issue aside, I've long considered tarot cards something I wouldn't necessarily be able to figure out on my own. And this first reading, much of what C.Robin explained to me is lost to the ages. Queen of Swords, Page of Wands (I think), a card with a burial chamber and a bunch of cards with swords everywhere. Then again, considering my extensive interests and hobbies and the information overload, maybe I'll stick to less detailed forms of meditation and personal insight.

Also, there would be much shuffling.

Special thanks again to C.Robin for the entertaining conversation and showing off his tarot skills.

It's beginning to look a lot like... orbs?

What's the best way to spend the Saturday before Christmas? Baking Christmas cookies? Getting stone cold drunk as you anticipate interacting with relatives you've avoided for a year? Finishing/Starting gift shopping? Ordering take out Chinese/Thai/Sushi snuggled under a blanket while you binge watch whatever's next on your Netflix que? Wrapping presents? Hacking a North Pole employee on the credenza into pieces and burning it for your own safety?

This year, I mixed things up. And by mixed things up, I made plans, left my house and socialized while taking a 'ghost' tour in a local community. 

I should rewind. A year ago I struck out and joined a local writing group. I met people. We started hanging out (focused on our laptops while slurping copious amounts of coffee). Happy/relieved/stunned to meet others with similar interests in our neck of the woods, we talked about getting out and exploring the world around us. Writer's style. Politely taking tours, going to other coffeehouses, watching everyone and noticing everything. (It's all fodder, folks.)

One of the first, if not the first, suggestion was to take the night time spooky tour over in Cassadaga. Um, yes, please! Cassadaga is a small, four corners kind of community in Central Florida, the epicenter of metaphysical Florida. It was founded in the late 1800's by a gentleman from NY who purported to be a medium. If you have an interest in psychic phenomena, Spiritualism (specifically, not just being a spiritual person) or just weird Florida, you may have heard of it. It started as a camp for people who were a part of the Spiritualist movement to devote themselves to the study and practice of communing with spirits. I'm sure I've oversimplified that, but there are better articles about the full history in other places. 

For my purposes, I had visited previously only during the day. On one corner is the hotel/restaurant/bar/coffee shop that also offers psychic readings. Anyone in town will stress that it's independently owned and the psychics there are not affiliated with the rest of the town. Opposite the hotel is the bookstore/community center. Here you can find everything from books to incense, local psychics and/or mediums currently available for readings and even classes or tours. Probably the best place to start when you get there. 

This visit, a small group of writers grabbed a cup of coffee each and headed out on the coldest night of December (A brisk 50-something degrees - sweatshirts and socks were necessary. It was brutal, but we did our best to be brave.) to our destination. One of us thankfully thought ahead and brought conversation starters which kept us animatedly entertained on the drive over. Conversation, boys and girls, that's how you tickle the fancy of people like me, good ole conversation.

To our surprise, parking was almost a problem. Not from all the others lined up to take the tour (we were the only ones brave enough to venture out on such a frigid night) but from folks indulging in karaoke at the hotal/bar/restaurant. We snagged the last open area along the road (in front of a line of pick up trucks, naturally) and headed over to the after-hours door at the community center for tours and meetings. Our tour guide was surprised to see us, noting that there usually isn't a turn out on the cooler nights. 

We were given a brief history of the town and the basics in terms of beliefs and practices. I personally find the study of other cultures, religions, etc to be interesting (Or they can be. Because I'm a nerd. You have caught on to that, right?). Now I've seen plenty of ghost hunting shows. I tend to like a certain variety of spooky. From the safety of my perfectly normal house viewing a perfectly ordinary television. So when the guide pulled out two small flashlights and a little electric meter called an EMF or K-2 meter, I knew exactly what was coming. And I was entertained. The flashlights were turned on and then unscrewed, with the idea that spirit energy can manipulate the flashlights and turn them on and off to reveal an unseen presence. The meter has an arch of lights on the top, and as an unseen presence interacts with it or passes by it, the lights will flash on. 

During the explanation of the history of the community and what might occur on our tour, one of the flashlights did turn on and off. Suddenly light flashed to my left, and then slowly the light would dim until the light faded completely. Is there a scientific explanation for that happening? Probably, but it sure is kind of fun to see it actually happen live and in person. As for the meter, it was unremarkable until one of us leaned forward to examine a photograph the guide was sharing. It lit up like a Christmas tree and then stopped. We tried to recreate it, couldn't, and told our slightly unsettled companion that she had a visitor with her. Because I'm an asshole easily amused. And also, it didn't happen to me. The spooky stuff always happens to me. But not this time. Mwahhahaha!

Our tour around an old Florida community at night was interesting. It wasn't spooky or eerie. It was comfortable - because it was cool enough that there weren't any bugs and the neighborhood cat kept the possums at bay. I kid about the possums. Maybe. (Possums? Legitimately creepy.) Either way, thanks for the company, Simba! Florida is made up of cookie cutter, zero-lot-line subdivisions. Cassadaga is the exception to that rule. Beautiful old homes of various sizes and built for various purposes line the streets. Some used to be old boarding houses for the seasonal influx of Northerners. Some used to be meeting houses. Some... well plenty of them were just houses that happened to be built so that the second floor could be used to hold seances. And for the two story variety, you'll notice (or maybe you won't, I won't judge) a strange frame on one of the upstairs windows. Others have either replaced or kept what looks like, to Northern visitors or transplants familiar with lake effect snow, a snow door. A full size door on the second floor, leading out to the roof over the front porch or, to nowhere at all. Back in the day, when a medium was inviting spirits to seances, they believed the spirit would need to literally come through a door to join them. 

This is the kind of info that I take away from educational tours and pick at until I find a use for. How do you keep a group of writers entertained? Weird, random details. Totally love those. 

Completely accurate representation of me, each and every time I come across a randomly interesting factoid.

We wandered the streets on our guided tour. We pet the cat. A lot. We took pictures. So many pictures. Because, we were told, you should take 3-5 pictures of whatever you're clicking away at because an orb (departed loved one, higher being, pollen - you decide) might only show up in 1 of those images you took. Like trying to catch lightening in a bottle. Or hunt fireflies. Or... where am I?

Anyway, the point of this endeavor was to take pictures into the inky black night in the hopes of capturing orbs. I'm not here to debate what they are, because as a writer it behooves me to be open to interpretation (Look for my next book series on the fictional interpretation of orbs this spring. Espresso's kicked in, apologies for the excess shenanigans. Sort of.) You (or I should say most people) cannot see orbs with the naked eye, but if they're there, they can show up on pictures. Digital or film. Again, this is something I've seen on tv, in movies or read about in books. 

We stood between two trees near a lake, the location referred to as a portal, to see if we experienced any kind of sensation. It's supposed to be a high energy spot and a great place for orb pictures. Two thirds of us felt something, but the sensation varied. There were plenty of orbs that came out of those pictures as well. I didn't need to take 3-5 shots in a row, this area orbs showed up in every image. But the kind of cool thing, something that didn't happen in any other area where we caught orbs in our pictures, was that in successive pictures, the orbs moved with the person who stood in the portal. 

We were also given the opportunity to enter a few of the buildings in the area, a kind of backstage tour if you will of important meeting places. Nothing jumped out to scare us. No doors or floors or stairs creaked with an air of menace. They seemed like your garden variety church or fellowship hall, that just so happened to hold seances and call forth departed family members to give messages each Sunday. All in all, a very interesting and enjoyable evening for our group. 

Here's where I stand on this area of the paranormal or spiritual realm. I am skeptical by way of my father. But I am also open to the idea of just about anything being possible from him as well. There's a lot of bullshit and snake oil salesmen still out and about.  There are a lot of people looking for something more to believe in. There are plenty of things that were once deemed impossible that are now so commonplace that most people forget what life was like before them.  And there are plenty of things that have been disproved time and again. Whatever may or may not be out there, our tour was definitely a great way of adding to info and experiences to pull from for inspiration in the future. 

Always, Nessie. Always.

I should also say that after going through all the pictures and showing them to the rest of the group, a couple interested even the most skeptical among us. There were no faces or gentile Victorian apparitions stuck in time immortalized on my simple camera. I ended up with a lot more orb pictures than I expected. But a few gave us all pause, even if just for a second. Whatever an orb might be, wherever I happen to fall on the skepticism spectrum, a night tour of Cassadaga was completely worth it.