I bought a new deck lately, one my friend Marilyn calls a taroracle because it’s a hybrid. It’s the Akashic Tarot Oracle by Sharon Anne Klingler and Sandra Anne Taylor. It’s a beautiful deck with evocative art work. The minor arcana suits are realized as scrolls, roses, forces, and keys and the major arcana introduce unique topics like Adsum (I am here), Beith (birth) and Initiation & the Count St. Germaine, an ascended master who is new to me.
At first I was excited to work with this deck. The cards I pulled were on point. You can’t ask for more than that, can you? But after two weeks, I was ready to throw it out the window. How many times can I pull Adsum, On Track reversed, and Initiation & the Count St. Germaine? I haven’t pulled those cards exclusively; I did get Fated Meeting right before I got an email from an old boyfriend who I hadn’t heard from in about twenty years (yes, my eyes almost popped out of my head). And although I pulled Akashic Library twice, it’s such a fun card—it has you open a book to a random page and find the message waiting there for you—I didn’t mind. And I should say “random” in quotation marks because it’s a wonderful exercise in synchronicity.
Adsum is both a reminder to stay present and a message that Spirit is always with us, as are our guardians, guides, angels and ancestors. On Track reversed says that indecision or inertia is stalling an action. The Initiation card speaks to taking action, studying and meditating on lifting your service to the world and humankind. And it frustrates me because I thought I was staying present, working on taking action, and meditating on my purpose.
Obviously not enough. Spirit is trying to get my attention and has stopped being subtle.
I know getting the same cards repeatedly is common. What do you do when it happens to you? Do you pull a card for clarity? Say, “Oh, come on!” to your guides? Swear? Put that deck aside and start using a different one? I’ll admit to doing all those things at times. Sometimes I’ll ask a friend to pull for me, even though I know that’s verging on oracle abuse. But sometimes you want to say, “Not this lesson. Seriously. Not. This. Lesson.” Even though you know if you refuse to deal with it now, you’ll only have to deal with it later.