Do You Want Your Fortune Told?

Image source: Merlina McGovern

As I was working today, I had my office window open. Outside, I could hear winds scattering fallen leaves across the neighborhood sidewalks. The fragrance of dead foliage whispered into my room in regular whisps. A perfect day to ponder the ghostliness of the Halloween season. And a perfect day to reflect on today’s Inktober prompt, Fortune.

I have always been fascinated by the spooky and the occult. I’ve always hidden that interest of mine mostly because it felt so unserious. We live in a serious world, filled with serious events; there’s no place for unserious pursuits.

I’m a logical person, well for the most part, and the idea of some type of magical earth power that you can tap into with a few well-placed words and some burning sage both attracted me and made me laugh. My brain knows that science and history can explain away all of those times when people in the past would attribute certain happenings to a whispered spell or an offering to a moon goddess.

As I’ve gotten older, however, I’ve become more intrigued about thinking about the idea of transcendence. Those moments when you can feel your soul rise inside of you, unbidden. For me, these moments of intense inwardness and awareness tend to happen when I’m witnessing something awe-inspiring in nature, like the cumulation of the dizzying heights of the cliffs of Kerry in Ireland with the feel of the salt spray on my cheeks and the sound of roiling sea waters crashing along the cliff rocks. I can also tap into that feeling of transcendence when I’m listening to a particularly gorgeous piece of music, like Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini—I swear that I can actually feel my soul soaring with the sweet and rolling rise of the piano and the orchestra in the 18th variation. Others may feel this during a religious ceremony as they sway to a hymn and smell the close attar of incense or when they read a moving piece of poetry that indulges in surprising wordplay.

I’m sure that science can explain these transcendent moments, but that feeling, ah, that sweet and amazing feeling is something that I can seek out by exploring the magic of the earth and the beauty of world around me. Which brings me back to the prompt. Fortune. Do I think that I can foretell my future by using tarot cards or using a crystal ball? No. But I do think that I can reflect on the age-old symbolism contained in those cards, the sharp clarity of the swords, the bountiful plenty of the cups, the growth and creativity of the wands, the wealth and magic of the pentacles. I can meditate on what those ancient images stand for and lose myself in the reflection. So, I can still seek transcendence in flipping over these cards even if I know that I won’t be able to directly tell my fortune with them.

I suppose this search for transcendent experiences is what has always drawn me to what is often described as “new age” pastimes: burning candles, meditation, tarot cards, spirituality, magic. It’s why my first reading love was the baggy 1,000-page fantasy novels of the 80s and 90s. It’s why I loved the movies Practical Magic and The Craft. It’s why I loved “Buffy the Vampire Slayer.” And, it’s why I loved moving out to New England and finally got to go to Salem (though, sadly, the town has become unbearably crowded each October, with visitors swelling the town’s population from its normal 45,000 residents to a million visitors).

So, as I quickly sketched my fortune prompt, I stopped a bit and meditated on the beautiful things in this world that can move my soul. And, given the current tragic state of affairs, it’s certainly something that I need to keep on doing.