Oh, hello, you — yes, you, with the deck of cards that keep falling off the table. I see you picking them up again. I see you shuffling them for the fifteenth time today. And I just want you to know: I think that’s beautiful.
You have asked the same question fourteen times. That is not a typo. That is a fact. And I am here to tell you that this is one of the most heroic things a person can do. The cards don’t know what’s coming. You don’t know what’s coming. Nobody knows what’s coming. And yet, here you are, asking again. Like a child tapping a vending machine because the candy bar didn’t fall the first time. It’s not desperation. It’s hope. Pure, unvarnished, slightly reckless hope.
Let me explain what this tells the cards. First of all, the cards are not alive. They are pieces of cardboard with pictures on them. But if they were alive, and if they could think, here is what they would think about you:
They would think you are fearless.
Because you keep asking the same thing — “Will I get the job?” or “Does he love me?” or “Should I move to that city?” — and you keep getting the same answer. Or a different answer. Or a card that says “The Tower,” which is usually about sudden change and upheaval, not exactly a spa day. But you don’t run away. You don’t throw the deck into the ocean. You just pick up The Tower and say, “Okay, but what if I shuffle it differently this time?” That is not denial. That is a kind of sacred stubbornness.
The cards think you have no idea what is about to happen. And you don’t. None of us do. That’s the whole point of the Fool card, actually. The Fool is the one who steps off a cliff and doesn’t check if there’s a net. You are the Fool. I am the Fool. We are all the Fool, but especially you, because you have asked the same question fourteen times. You are the Fool who keeps asking the cliff, “Are you sure?” and the cliff just keeps being a cliff.
But here’s the secret: The cards don’t know either. They’re just paper. You are the one with the heartbeat. You are the one with the hope. Every time you shuffle, you are saying, “I am not finished with this story yet.” And that is a very powerful thing to say. Most people ask once, get a scary answer, and put the deck away. Not you. You ask again. And again. And again. You are like a wind-up toy that keeps bumping into walls and just keeps going. That is not foolishness. That is a kind of beautiful, stupid courage.
When you ask the same question fourteen times, you are also telling the cards something else: that you are not afraid of looking silly. And that is the most important thing a person can learn. Looking silly is the only way to find out what’s really true. Because if you’re afraid to look silly, you’ll never ask the fifteenth time. And the fifteenth time might be the one where the cards finally say, “Oh, I see what you mean now.” (They won’t. But they might.)
I once asked the cards if I should eat a whole pizza for dinner, and I got The Moon. I didn’t know what that meant, so I asked again. I got The Moon again. I asked seven more times. I got The Moon every time. I ate the pizza. It was fine. I don’t know what The Moon was trying to tell me — traditionally it’s confusion, illusion, things not being as clear as they seem. Maybe it was just tired of me asking. But that pizza was delicious, and I felt very brave.
So what does fourteen questions tell the cards about you? It tells them that you are not afraid of the unknown. It tells them that you are willing to try again, even when the answer doesn’t change. It tells them that you have no idea what is about to happen, and you are okay with that. You are not okay with it in a calm, wise way. You are okay with it in a fidgety, sweaty-palmed, “I’ll just shuffle one more time” way. And that is the only way to be okay with anything.
You are the Fool. You are the one who keeps knocking on the same door, even though nobody answers. But one day, someone might. Or the door might fall down. Or you might realize you were knocking on a wall.
So keep asking. Keep shuffling. Keep hoping. The cards are just paper. But you are a person, and a person who asks the same question fourteen times is a person who believes that the world might change its mind.
And if it doesn’t?
You can always ask a fifteenth time.