A couple nights before Old Home Day in Pembroke, myself and my new friend (let’s call him “Jimmy”) were standing in a parking lot down in the Village, marveling at the sky above. The foothills laid low before us and serenity found us on Main Street.
Jimmy is a tarot card reader that moved to the area and has been sharing his learned interpretations with anyone interested in talking on most Tuesday nights downtown.
“I began studying Western Esoteric Mystery Tradition when I was a teenager,” Jimmy explained about his tarot card origins. “But I really started to hone my skills over the last few years.”
Having met Jimmy in passing a few times before at Pembroke City Limits, I never knew he practiced cartomancy, but I wasn’t shocked after casing the sky together, kicking around the roots of our old-time religion and what he sees inside that deck of cards.
“These cards are correlated with Astrology, planetary correspondences and the Qabalah,” Jimmy said. “It’s also emblematic of the universe.”
Much of what Jimmy would say was lost on me. His references were at times wrapped in expensive ancient names and verbiage. But I liked the rhythm of his delivery, the humility behind his knowledge and his ability to draw from centuries past with tales of The Fool, The Juggler, The Pope and Hermit.
All with a punk rock sensibility.
“The symbols, colors and numbers have vibrations,” explained the 30-something-year-old new Villager. “They are used for spiritual initiation.”
With that kind of expertise on such a topic, I reach for Jimmy any time I feel like stepping outside to have a peek at the nights glow against the eyes on the clock tower. He’s a good guy to chase owls with.
It was during one of these star gazing moments when, nearly simultaneously, Jimmy and I said to each other, “Did you just see a shooting star?”
“Heck yes!” I said. “I think it’s still shooting.”
The star was running with the night, legging past every other star in the galaxy with her fat, flaming red tail trailing. It was gorgeous and youthfully exhilarating, like a snow day had been called after a bad storm.
Rarely, if ever, have I seen a shooting star. I don’t look up often enough. I don’t believe in wishes. But if our past conversations had helped manifest this moment, then as a tarotist, Jimmy brought a mythical force I was not expecting.
I’ve stood in countless parking lots at night, babbling on, holding court with my fellow night crawlers, but until then, I had never shared a cosmic moment with anyone, let alone a tarot card reader.
It was magic, of course.
Jimmy is not a soothsayer, a conman or a carnival act. He just happens to be a guy that knows a lot about astronomy. And there’s no shortage of people that want a glimpse into the secrets behind their own vibrations and colors.
“People come for insight into love, careers, anything related to the world really,” says Jimmy. “Maybe an oracle on potential outcomes for the future.”
Whatever it takes to understand oneself better.
That’s what it’s all about.
Rob Azevedo can be reached at onemanmanch@gmail.com. He can also be found mopping the floors at Pembroke City Limits.
