Ugh, Mercury Retrograde, AMIRITE???
I started going all New-Agey on you a couple of months ago, but to be honest, I’ve alllllways had a soft spot for horoscopes. Even fortune cookies. Oh, god, my mom is nodding her head reading this! I saved SO MANY cookie fortunes over the years! But only the ones that I felt I could relate to. Anything that’s gonna tell me about me.
There’s a continuous thread, I think, of wanting to be told about myself, that runs into the present day. Not only with regards to magick and mysticism, but with the self-help books I read. I get a little thrill when I find a passage I can relate to. I feel seen! That’s what it’s all about for me.
But — and here’s the “but” — only when it’s gonna tell me something good.
To be clear: I don’t like being pandered to. Yes, I know I’m fabulous because I’m a Leo, insert big lion yawn here. Oh, today’s card is The Chariot? Of course I’m the boss, I’m incredible. I can handle a little conflict, a couple Tough Truths. A little The Tower, a little Death card. But when I get a mundane reading? RESHUFFLE.
me: tarot cards are great intuitive tools that help you tap into your feelings and instincts to problem solve
the cards: your problems are your fault
me: i mean tarot is a fun party trick but it doesn't offer any rEAL insight into things, you know?
— anna borges (@annabroges) January 10, 2018
And, YEAH! Sure! I probably could USE the Two of Pentacles to remind me to stop splurging on pre-made salads at the grocery store down the street. Or the Seven of Swords, reversed, to shame me for refusing to admit defeat! I get it! That’s boring! These are things that I already know. I want something that’s gonna rock my world. Good, or bad! But let’s be honest…
I want my horoscopes to tell me something GOOD.
A windfall of money. A handsome new love interest. Can’t the lunar eclipse in Leo predict a breakthrough in therapy and getting banged senseless by a bearded hipster? I mean, shoot. We all know this stuff isn’t real.
Oh, I’m sorry, did I burst your bubble?
Yeah, we all know that horoscopes are a self-fulfilling prophesy: they only come true if you work to make them come true. I’m saying this, and I read my horoscope every day! In fact, I read TWO every day! I also have my trusted daily tarot app, AND I do a three-card pull every morning AND evening. It’s not about like, trying to get #spoilers for what’s going to happen that day. That’s absurd! It’s about finding a way to reframe your state of mind.
But gosh ——
I wish it was a prediction of what was going to happen. And I wish it was good! I wish my horoscopes and my cards could tell me, with unwavering certainty, that GOOD THINGS WILL HAPPEN TO ME.
It’s not like good things don’t happen to me. For instance: some days I go to work and I end up riding on a boat, which is super cool! Some days I ride the train and a stranger offers me a bite of their Snickers bar! Sure, something really cool could happen to me at any moment, any day.
But that’s not the same as getting a vague promise of something good in my future from some otherworldy source.
Is it too much to ask …?
One response to “Tell Me Something Good”
[…] My therapist and I have been wrestling with what I want right now versus what I need. Versus what I think I want versus what other people think I need. It’s actually really hard to untangle all of this confusion but I found some hope for connection in my February horoscope, as brought to you by the Astro Poets. Yep, I’m horoscope obsessed, and somebody’s finally told me something good. […]