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Monday, July 22, 2013

Faded Colors of the World ©


Based on a vision I had the night of 19 October 2012 of the man who knew not when to distinguish when enough was enough.
     There he was and there I was, he looked over my way, but could not see me. The dampness and darkness of this place was all too familiar and highly impersonal. I, a floating mist watched, as he began to convince a man and woman, an older couple, about his world card. Yes, you read that correctly. His- world card! In a “what in Sam hill” moment of thinking, I saw the scene unfold quickly before my eyes and had I blinked, I would have missed the most important highlights of the conversation which took place amongst the three adults. There stood, the man whom many esteemed and looked up to, holding in his left hand, an oversized world tarot card. He approached the small car where the married couple sat, anxious to drive away from the empty and dark public parking garage. Mr. World card motioned for the man in the drivers’ seat to let the window down so he may speak briefly with him. The driver, a man in his late 50’s, let out a quiet sigh while his wife chirped like a small bird with utter excitement as she fished through her giant purse for her humble tarot deck. As soon as the window was lowered, Mr. World card leaned down towards the car window and began to speak of his new world card and the reason why he chose to design it in the manner that he did. The gentleman in the driver’s seat said not one word and maintained a kind yet forced smile on his face. His hands never left the circumference of the card wheel, as if at the ready to make a quick departure. His parting was delayed by his wife who went on and on with her unending enthusiasm over Mr. World cards’ chatter.
     Mr. World card, noticing the husband shifting in his seat with discomfort, ensured he explained the immense size of his tarot deck and how at times, he would rather not use it, but (since he was so committed to it-a fact he did not disclose) commenced his dissertation over why he chose the current design. His world card contained a light blue border, with words in white lettering describing the name of the card along with key words. The woman’s husband had enough of this conversation and Mr. World card knew it. He decided to shift his attention to the wife, the woman who held her smaller deck tightly and over anxiously. Mr. World card confessed he preferred a smaller size deck. Eagerly, the woman began thumbing through her deck for the world card, a task that was taking entirely too much time due to her nerves and oversight. She settled on listening to Mr. World card and set the deck down so as not to miss a word of Mr. World card’s mini-tarot lesson.
     In the midst I floated, both amused and alarmed. I felt like I was peering through a peep hole, secretly chiming in as I watched my neighbor feed into a door sales pitch. At the moment, the term salesman lingered for a while in my mind. There was nothing immoral with a salesperson, but one who was not intuitively understanding of the limits of his/her sales pitch concerned me. I felt my arms move to a fixed position across my chest. How much longer did I have to watch this? I so wanted to leave and at that thought, my body form, a mist, was transported to the back seat of this couples’ vehicle. “How much longer did I have to listen to this?” I thought, as I sat in the back seat, dumbfounded by this up close encounter of this spectacle. I felt myself cringe; however, my eyes widened as I could see the colors along the edges of Mr. World cards’ world card fade!
     The colors began to wash off and fade to the point that I could no longer get a clear view of this man’s world card nor no longer understand his intent for this card. It was, without a doubt, the saddest thing I have ever witnessed about a world card. Colors continued to fade, though the woman was somehow made unaware through some sort of trickery, what was happening. Even Mr. World card pointed out how his card was not as vibrant as he would like it to be and still, with this cue, the woman was unable to pick up on this important fact. He even mentioned how his world card design was unable to depict a full, coherent story. I could not take any more of this conversation and willed myself out of the tiny car. In doing so, I successfully returned to the place where I originally watched this scene. With a quick goodbye from the woman’s husband, the couple immediately drove away. Mr. World card was left, standing there in the darkened and empty parking garage. I did not know how to feel about him. Something told me he would not admit that the more he stretched his world out, the more diluted it would become. With this last thought, the scene faded and soon, my eyes were opened.


     When will you begin to perceive the vibrant colors of the world and when something or someone dilutes it? Do not let anyone or anything erase your potential for the world.



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