Just the other night, an amazing idea came to me… I would like to take you through my personal life, by using the Tarot. I think this is good for several reasons. You get to know more about who I really am. You can follow my journey and discover common pains. You get to learn a lot of Tarot along the way. So… if interested in reading the nitty gritty of my life, continue. If not, you may want skip the next four weeks of this BLOG.
I’d like to begin our journey by taking you through one of the most influential, damaging, and life-changing relationships I have ever had. For the next few blog entries, I will be diving into this complex relationship. This relationship is with my father.
My father is a very dark, unfeeling, and cruel person. He is also one of the most direct and intelligent men I have ever known. He was a perfectionist, but only in some aspects of his life. For these reasons, I refer to a piece of my father as, The Emperor.
Like the Emperor, my father was stern, decisive, and fixed-solid. Unlike, the Emperor, my father was unstable, and lacked the solutions for his material problems. Sure, he was strong in the physical sense; however, emotionally he was broken.
When I was a child, he once handed me several pieces of unused lumber. As an unsuccessful and self-made carpenter, he often came by such pieces of wood. He handed me a hammer, a tool belt, and a fist full of nails. His only instructions were to hammer the nails into the wood. He gave me all the time I wanted with this project and only one rule; it was up to me to decide where the nails went.
So for the better part of a Saturday, I put the planks of wood on top of each other and hammered until all of the nails were used. Occasionally, he would walk by and explain how I used too many strikes of the hammer on each nail. At one point, he simply walked by me with his head down and muttered something under his breath. Most often, he would walk by and correct the way I held my hammer and make a point to discuss my weak wrists. An absolute Emperor, right?
At the end of the day, I proudly presented my finished project to him. My thumbs were beaten, black and blue. You should have seen my face; I had a grin from ear to ear. I was certain that he would be thrilled. I could not have been more wrong.
My father took the project from me and stared at it with such disappointment in his face. He said, “This wasn’t about the nails. This was to determine how intelligent you are. You had everything you needed here to build something, anything. All you did was poorly hammer all of my damned nails into a useless piece of junk.”
As you could imagine, I was heartbroken. In my little world, I was finally spending quality time with my Dad. But no, I was taking an exam and failed... miserably. Sure, I could have made anything with that wood. I could have made a bench. I could have used other tools and made a table or a small house. But, all I wanted to make that day was my father proud.