Tarot Deck Issues Subpoenas For Your Repressed Memories
Hello, and welcome to my first official column on tarot wisdom. I have been doing this for twenty minutes, which is exactly twenty minutes longer than anyone else in my apartment complex, so I feel qualified to address a very serious matter that has come to my attention.
Yesterday, I was doing a simple three-card spread for my neighbor, Brenda, who wanted to know if her cat, Mr. Whiskers, was secretly plotting against her. I shuffled the deck with great ceremony—I even closed my eyes and hummed what I thought was a mystical tone but was actually just the theme song from Cheers—and laid out the cards. The first card was The Tower. The second was The Moon. The third was a subpoena.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: A subpoena isn’t a tarot card. And you would be wrong, because it was clearly printed on cardstock and had my name on it. I read it carefully. It said something about “repressed memories” and “compelled testimony” and “the court of your own subconscious.” I don’t know much about law—I once tried to represent myself in small claims court over a broken bread maker, and the judge laughed so hard he had to take a break—but I know a summons when I see one.
The deck was demanding that I produce, within thirty days, all memories I had buried deeper than my high school gym bag. I have a lot of those. For example, I have a very strong memory of telling my third-grade teacher that her haircut looked like a sad hedgehog. I have no idea if this actually happened, but the deck seems to think it’s relevant.
I called the phone number on the subpoena. A woman answered and said, “You have reached the Office of Psychic Enforcement. Please hold while we retrieve your fourth-grade talent show audition.” I hung up because I was afraid of what she might find. I have blocked out the entire fifth-grade spelling bee, and I intend to keep it that way.
The more I think about this, the more I realize that tarot decks are not just for telling the future. They are also for telling the past that you have been avoiding. My deck has now issued subpoenas for three of my friends. One of them, a man named Gary, was served with a subpoena for “the incident at the 1998 office holiday party involving the photocopier and the mistletoe.” Gary has not spoken to me since. I think he’s worried about what the cards will reveal. Honestly, I’m worried too. I was at that party, and I have no memory of the photocopier. But I do have a vague recollection of someone singing “All I Want for Christmas Is You” into a bowl of punch.
I have decided to comply with the subpoena. I am currently sitting in my living room with a legal pad and a box of tissues, attempting to recall every embarrassing thing I have done since 1987. So far, I have written down: “Told my grandmother her lasagna tasted like a shoe.” I was six. I didn’t know what a shoe tasted like. I was just trying to be poetic. The deck does not care about poetry.
The most difficult part is that the subpoena demands not just memories, but repressed memories. That means I have to dig deep. I have to think about things I have successfully forgotten for decades. Like the time I tried to impress a date by explaining the plot of Inception and accidentally described the entire movie backwards. Or the time I waved at a stranger in a parking lot for forty-five seconds before realizing it was a mannequin. The deck wants all of it.
But here’s the thing: I think the deck is actually trying to help me. It’s not punishing me for forgetting. It’s reminding me that I am a walking collection of mistakes, and that’s okay. The Tower card means sudden upheaval and revelation, but it also means clearing away the rubble. The Moon card means illusion and the subconscious, but it also means seeing through the fog. And the subpoena means that someone—even if that someone is a deck of cards—cares enough to make you face the stuff you’d rather hide.
So I am going to comply. I am going to write down every terrible thing I have ever said, every awkward silence I have ever created, every time I thought I was being profound but was actually just being confusing. I am going to produce those memories for the court of my own subconscious, and I am going to let the deck decide what to do with them.
If you receive a subpoena from your tarot deck, do not ignore it. Do not try to hide in your bathroom with the lights off and pretend you’re not home. Answer the call. Show up for the trial. The judge is not a person. It is a stack of cardboard with pictures on it, and it is probably more forgiving than you think.
The subpoena expires in thirty days, but my repressed memories have nowhere else to go.