Not every question is fit for divination, and as diviners who get approached by people, discernment and, if necessary, gate-keeping is among our rights and duties. I say this not because I want to feel part of a superior caste of priests, but because our practice should be informed by two great principles: the well-being of our querents and the honor of our art.
It is perfectly fine to ask questions out of mere curiosity or for fun, but the ultimate decision on whether a question shall be put to the cards rests with us. I, for one, have dodged more questions about controversial politicians in the last couple of weeks than in the last couple of years altogether, largely because the question, when boiled down to its essential meaning, was “Is it true this politician I hate is a spawn of Satan?”
Such questions are unanswerable not merely because they are idle, but because they are ultimately unverifiable: unless you are that politician’s cleaning lady you have few ways of verifying my answer. Furthermore, consider this: if my answer is anything except “yes, you’re absolutely justified in your hatred,” the person is going to be inclined to dismiss my answer as superstitious nonsense. Why, then, whould a positive answer be of any value?
But unanswerable questions are not just those that belong to the “is it true that my particular preferences are absolutely valid and I don’t ever need to question them?” category. Some are more tragic. Recently I got asked something heart-breaking: “Is my life still worth living?”
No matter how we slice it, THIS is an unanswerable question, which doesn’t make it a meaningless string of sounds. On the contrary, it is a clearly formulated cry for help. As someone who has been struggling with depression since my teen years and has gone dangerously close to the edge on more than one occasion, I resonate strongly with it. But the fact remains that divination is not the tool to solve this issue.
I refused to open the cards on this question, obviously, but suppose I had, and suppose that, predictably, the cards had shown me the absolute mess that is this person’s life: does this make their life less worth living?
There is no answer. In this case, not because we cannot verify the details (I could easily point at the cards and say “your career is in shambles and your family life is a museum of red flags”) but because the reality of the situation has no bearing on the answer. Worth is subjective. The exact same set of circumstances that might drive someone to walk into a lake with stones in their pockets would be taken by someone else as life throwing a little challenge their way.
Therefore, in this case the question would translate as “What is your personal opinion on what makes life worth living and do you think I still meet those criteria?” I don’t think anyone would be foolish enough to even consider taking such a responsibility for themselves.1 It is much wiser to talk to the person, encourage them to open up and direct them to an appropriate source of (medical) help.
Again, though, the fact that the question cannot be answered does not imply that there isn’t a deep, real, visceral experience behind it. It is just that divination is not the way to go. It is like asking a pair of scales to measure whether you are pretty.
MQS
- Furthermore, people in a seriously distressed state are especially prone to esoteric influences, and would to better to avoid them, even if it’s just a simple card reading ↩︎
