13th April 2020

I spoke in my last blog about Tarot and how it started a chain of events which still seems to be unfolding.

I sometimes wonder about the ‘Sliding Doors’ effect – how would my life be different if I had taken a series of alternate turns?

This last year I have made so many massive decisions, would I have chosen differently without Tarot?

What I found is that it made me more insightful – more tuned into my intrinsic desires. Once you realise what you want from life, it’s far easier to achieve it. As I said before I don’t personally think there is a higher being that lays this all out for you, I think it just gives your mind a chance to respond impulsively to answer questions you may be struggling with.

These connections become symbols which bear meaning for you individually, you see what your subconscious mind wants you to see – and once you see it, it’s bloody hard to ignore.

Everyday random stuff happens and it’s free to be interpreted however one wishes, what I have enjoyed over the last year is to appreciate the symbolism in these fairly mundane events. Please forgive me for being a boring version of Alanis Morrisette and listing things that are symbolic (rather than ironic) but I’m going for it anyways.

The types of things I mean are like going to take my mate a pram for her unborn and her saying oh can I give you my work laptop to take back for me – just a perfect representation of the change that’s occurring in her life.

There are times when I’ve felt the universe or my own warped mind is telling me what I already know – like when I arrived for a meeting to discuss my potential return to work, I opened the car door and there was a dog poo right there waiting for me. Was it a sign from god, or just a dog poo?

Whilst I was off sick from work my Nan and Grandma came to see me, they’d both been dead for many years so it was a bit of a surprise.

I was going through a weird phase of exploring my creative side and pretending I could make some sort of career out of it. I thought I had found the answer by embroidering passive aggressive political symbols on clothing which was apparently ridiculous enough an idea to drag my grandparents from their graves. So I know I sound like I was perhaps more mentally unwell than I’m letting on, but bear with me.

After what I thought was a successful evening sewing, I tried to go to sleep and on my bedside table was an empty can of pop. I was laying there and noticed this weird noise which sounded like someone tapping or flicking the can. I’ve always been a massive wuss when it comes to ghosts but when this happened I remember thinking shit I think there’s someone in this room – but I wasn’t scared.

I felt a weight press on the bed as if someone had sat on the edge next to me and I asked the can

“is there someone here?”

And the can responded with a solitary

“ding”.

Now when I told this story to a few people they asked how we worked out how to communicate through can – and to be honest I don’t remember there being much of a chat about it – we just all knew that “ding” meant yes and silence was no.

So my next question was:

”is that you Nan?”

“Ding”

Once I’d established it wasn’t Casper -

we had a limited yes/no chat, but one of the main things I asked her (and also my grandma who popped in to give her 2p’s worth) was:

“am I doing the right thing with my sewing business plan?”

Both of them

deafening silence.

Now that wasn’t the only thing we spoke about, I obviously asked them if they had been in to see Jude – really creepy thing was I felt them leave and then Jude started to stir.

Bizarre.

Anyways the sewing thing pissed me off to be honest, cause I thought I was on to a fun new career, but I asked them:

“so do I need to go back and do something with nursing?“

“Ding”

The next day I went on Facebook and basically wrote an essay ranting about my experiences with the NHS and A&E with real honesty about the affect this had on my mental health. There were things I said in that post that I had been unable to say to my family – just a really raw outpouring of my feelings for everyone to see.

That post changed my life.

The most obvious way is that it opened up the doors of communication with those closest to me which I has always been a challenge for me. There was also an outpouring of love and support from so many amazing people who I’m lucky to have around me, it’s incredible how many people will reach out if you ask for help. The post was seen by a charity called the Laura Hyde Foundation who campaign for increased awareness and improved mental health support for frontline staff. They then supported me and encouraged me to share my story wider and which led to an article in the Nursing Times. After that article I was asked to speak at a national conference and I was inspired to begin writing poems and now my own blog.

Who knows what buds may spout from this?

So back to sliding doors – would all of this have happened without that tarot reading? Even if my Nan didn’t come and visit me – my mind thought she did which prompted the Facebook post and me throwing in my needles and thread (which turned out to be justified cause the only piece I made never sold)

Whilst it’s lovely to romanticise that there is someone looking down on me laying out these plans, a friend said to me recently:

“it was YOU that made all this happen”.

Irrelevant of it all - I chose the road.

They were my words, my decisions, my successes – which is why I struggle to take ownership.

It’s far easier to blame someone else if it all falls apart.