Deep Denial

Last Tuesday, I was at the rock shop in Austin. I rolled in a few minutes early, my first scheduled reading wasn’t for a few more minutes, traffic had been weirdly horrible leaving San Antonio yet oddly absent entering Austin.

Strange.

It was the historic election day so they say.

I voted — early.

I pulled a few cards, with the singular question, reigning in my ears, “Who would win?”

Trump

In Austin, at the rock shop, I was surrounded by Scorpio people. Mostly young, desirable females. One desirable, young male. Yeah, don’t ask. As I walked in the door, it was a classic Mexican Stand-off, “Look, my favorite Scorpio!”

The two behind the counter glanced at each other, one loudly rolled her eyes at me, grinning at the same time. A demure Pisces giggled.

Surrounded by Scorpio, in Austin, I just figured Hillary would win. Austin. Liberal Austin. Liberal, leftist Austin. It’s in the air. No, really, it is.

Deep Denial

The cards I pulled, to answer the question, “Who would win?”

Venerable deck, a Thoth deck, I’ve carted that around for over 20 years, seen by thousands of clients — the Hierophant, the Fool, and Lust (Leo). I got a very clear image it was a certain gentleman — now President-elect — Gemini Sun, Sagittarius Moon, Leo Asc.

Grabbed a shot with the phone, thought, “No way,” and went about my day, slightly perturbed that my reading was so wildly wrong. The cards were quite clear.

Deep Denial

I carry cards, more as a symbolic gesture, and hook to my roots, rather than a as valid metaphysical tool that I employ. However, I do get called to read the cards on occasion, and sometimes, like that, I was so right.

Denial, it’s not just a river in Egypt, it is also a useful coping mechanism.

Ask my family, anytime. They’ll all agree.