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Authors: Leslie Carroll

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“‘Are you sure you want to go with cards in spread?' Mala Sonia asked me. ‘Cards are already laid.' I figured it was bad karma or something to change it and said yes, let's leave these cards on the table. So she tells me that the first card is one from the Major Arcana: Strength. ‘This represents your experience to date,' Mala Sonia told me. ‘In upright position like this is very good. You have strength and control over your situation. More
than that, you have energy and determination to succeed.' So I said, ‘That sounds good,' and then she tells me that the second card, representing where I am now, the Eight of Cups in the reversed position, was also very favorable because it meant that I would continue my effort until full success was attained. It would come in a holiday time where there would be joy and feasting. Now I'm thinking that there aren't any feast times coming up in the near future—Thanksgiving and Christmas are months away—and I suck at delayed gratification. And speaking of the near future, that's what the third card represents. So in my spread it was the Five of Wands in the upright position. Bad news. It spoke of unsatisfied desires in labor endeavors—which is my career, right? It gets worse. The card also represents competition, aggression, obstacles, and conflicts.”

“And how did that make you feel?” I asked Alice.

“Tense. Pissed off. Cranky. Because I was believing the reading and relating it to my
Grandma Finnegan
job and the near future of my acting career. So the fourth card, which Mala Sonia explained was me within the environment of my near future, was another Major Arcana card: Justice. But, with my shitty luck, it's in the reversed position, highlighting intolerance, unfairness, accusations, a false friend and/or bad business partner…and my situation in the show has been really great so far, so now I was hoping that this was all a mistake. Because from Mala Sonia's reading it was looking like my
Grandma Finnegan
experience is going to turn out to be a horror show. And I went through that already with a couple of my recent office temp jobs. Believe me, job strife and false accusations are the
last
thing I need right about now! I've been thinking that things are finally looking up for me, and then I get this killjoy reading!”

“You have two more cards,” I said, trying to sound positive.

Alice buried her face in her hands. “I didn't know whether to
laugh or cry, because the fifth card represents the best you can hope for.”

“Which was…?”

“Mala Sonia tells me, ‘I hate to bring bad news, but Ace of Swords in reversed position indicates
debacle.
Tyranny. Hostility. Have you ever tried to make a baby?' The question was such a non sequitur. So I just said, ‘What??' She repeated her question, and I told her no, and so far I haven't had any interest in doing that. She then says, ‘Just checking. Card indicates infertility, which for your question can mean impotence, powerless to act or bring to fruition your goal.' I think that was around the time I asked her to just hand me a razor blade.”

“What about the last card?” I questioned, almost afraid to hear the result.

“The last card represents the outcome of the situation relating to my question,” Alice said, shaking her head. “You're looking at the Queen of Failure here. Why the fuck were so many of my cards in reverse? The last card was the Eight of Wands—upside down—of course, and I might have guessed its meaning.”

“Which was?”

“Discord, delay, dispute, jealousy, harassment, even domestic quarrels—and I live alone! So I started to cry a little and Mala Sonia slid the cards together and put the tarot deck away and said, ‘Sorry you are unhappy, but it is not me who is cause. Cards tell story; I only interpret. Cards don't lie. Now give me your twenty dollars.'”

I can't remember when I'd seen a patient look so defeated. I reminded Alice that the cards only had as much weight and meaning as she was willing to accord them. I encouraged her to dismiss the interpretation as nothing more than twenty dollars worth of entertainment: to think of it as a couple of tickets to a
movie that ended up sucking, and suggested rather forcefully that she cease referring to herself as the Queen of Failure.

“Speaking evil over yourself becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy because you train yourself to believe it. We teach others how to treat us, Alice. And if we insist on seeing ourselves as failures or lacking in confidence about whatever it is we consider ‘important,' whether it's personal or financial success, talent, looks, brains—whatever—that is how the outside world will view us. Those are very treacherous waters in which to tread. Believe me, most of us go through this at some point in our lives. Parents, teachers, bosses, even jealous people who claim to be your friends, may seek to put you down. I had a modern dance teacher in college who used to make fun of my wide hips in class—in front of everyone—and I believed her when she said that I had no future as a dancer. My lousy body image kept me bulimic for years.”

Alice nodded mutely, but I wasn't sure she'd absorbed the message. It's the kind of thing that takes time to actually put into practice. You can't instantly revamp your self-image just because your therapist reminds you that the world sees you as you see yourself. Oddly enough, it was the brutality of my dance instructor that catalyzed my decision to transfer out of a dance major into psychology.

“You know…” Alice said finally, as we began to wrap up her session. “I had a drama teacher in high school who always used to tell his students: ‘If you don't believe it, I won't believe it. And if
I
don't believe it, the
audience
certainly won't believe it!' Why is it that I can apply that to my acting but not to the rest of my life?”

“I can relate,” I assured her. “And now we have something to talk about next week,” I added, unlocking the door.

 

“I suppose it's a good thing I didn't ask Mala Sonia about my love life,” Alice said, once we were off the clock and speaking just woman-to-woman. “Because I did in fact meet a cute guy. Technically, I
met
him when I was going out with someone else—Amy Baum's husband in fact—God, this is becoming incestuous! Do you know a little girl in this building named Lucy? She's maybe seven years old? Has an uncle named Dan Carpenter who's an actual carpenter—and a total hottie?”

“I know Lucy,” I told her. “Lucy Eyre.”

“Please don't tell me her mother's name is Jane.”

I laughed. “It's Diana. Diana and Jim Eyre and their daughter Lucy live in 6A. Lucy has had a crush on Ian since before she could talk.”

“What does Ian think about that?”

“Well, after he went in one end and out the other of the ‘ick—girls!' phase, I think he became kind of flattered. Lucy's parents took her to see Ian in
Les Miz
and she went backstage after the show, which kind of put them both over the moon. It was the first time anyone had ever asked Ian for his autograph, and when he heard the page that he had a visitor, he was twice as excited as I'd ever seen him on Christmas morning.”

“You celebrate Christmas?” Alice asked, perplexed. “I thought you're Jewish.”

“We're ‘Christmas tree Jews,'” I replied. “Assimilated, non-practicing New Yorkers with the ‘if you can't beat 'em, join 'em' mentality about celebrating Christmas. Nature made pine trees before people invented religion. Besides, history tells us that Jesus was the Jewish son of a Nazarene carpenter. I never attended Sunday School or Hebrew School; I wasn't basmitzvahed. Heck, I learned the names of the twelve tribes of Israel from the lyrics to
Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.

“Speaking of
Carpenters,
” Alice said, blushing a bit. “Dan Carpenter and the Eyres?”

“I don't know Diana's brother. The Eyres are never down here, though.” I leaned toward Alice and brought my finger to my lips. “Diana has an illegal washer and dryer unit,” I whispered conspiratorially. “Their apartment was refurbished after the rent-stabilized tenant moved out, so they've got all new plumbing in their kitchen. Of course they're also paying market value, so I don't envy them
that
much.”

“Well, I've got something else to talk about in our next session,” Alice said. “Dan asked me out. He's come over to the apartment a bunch of times to repair an antique settee and he finally made his move. Oh, apropos of nothing, last week I saw Ian on that commercial for the water park in New Jersey. It was on a whole bunch of times. If he keeps that up he can pay for his own college tuition! Tell him I said congratulations.”

“I certainly will. Now, spill,” I teased, “about Dan Carpenter.” Alice shook her head. I tried cajoling. “Aw, c'mon. Just girl talk. Unofficially. We're off the clock here.”

“Nope. Besides, there's nothing to share until Danny Boy and I actually have that date.”

“Spoilsport.” After her recounting of the disastrous tarot reading, I was delighted to see her in a better mood.

Progress Notes

Talia Shaw:
A tremendous leap forward on client's career front, but she's still hung up on pleasing her mother and is devastated that her mom has elected to stay home with a sick cat rather than see her daughter dance her first principal role with NYCB up in Saratoga. I raised the subject of her mother's inability to give Talia the kind of admiration she expects from her. It remains to be seen how she fares when the dust settles. Will continue to work on the core self-esteem issue until client heads out of town.

 

Faith Nesbit:
I'm delighted that she's continuing to actively work on everything we're discussing in her sessions. Her non-purple clothing is a bold step (yet in her own characteristically cautious way) in making a conscious effort to expand her horizons beyond living for Ben's memory. Ditto the music subscriptions. I'm also pleased that she's taking these steps in keeping with her own behavioral limits. I want to continue on the same course with her sessions, though we need to discuss how her frequent references to the financial cost of her progress may in fact impact negatively upon it, and psychologically as well as materially dampen her ability to achieve further forward momentum.

 

Alice Finnegan:
Alice is a new client, presenting with severe symptoms of grief, having recently lost her grandmother, who was her closest relative and roommate for several years. Alice also expresses guilt at never having been able to say good-bye to her grandmother—something that was out of her control under the circumstances—and she also has job issues to work through. On that score, she has recently reached a milestone on her own, having successfully escaped the world of office temp
ing for an Off-Broadway role. However, she's already experiencing anxiety about her stage career, as exhibited in her reaction to the negative “psychic reading” she received from the super's wife, Mala Sonia Badescu. Part of our work will be to address and focus on Alice's self-confidence issues, to allow her to securely place her trust in herself and not in others.

 

Me:
I wish Eli were more open to discussing Molly with me—not just with reference to her college prospects, or lack thereof—but in how our parenting, both individually and collectively, isn't as effective as it could be. In believing that he's a liberal, progressive father, Eli's laissez-faire attitude vis-à-vis our daughter's behavior isn't doing her any favors. Funny, he's not that way with Ian; with Ian, Eli's always been clear about limits. On the other hand, Ian has yet to demonstrate any signs of rebellious behavior. Fathers and sons, mothers and daughters…fathers and daughters. It's not as though Molly's a “Daddy's girl,” but Eli's way of indulging her takes the form of ignoring her bad behavior, not so much for her sake, but for his own…so as not to make waves, rock the boat. Eli's never been great at dealing with anything that's going to be in any way difficult or problematic. He'd prefer to play “ostrich.” I can't get away with doing that. Someone's got to be the grown-up. My husband having abrogated those responsibilities as much as possible, I'm the one in the Lederer household left without a musical chair to sit on.

Maybe Molly's acting out is partly a cry for a reaction from her father. Lately, Eli has been increasing the distance between himself and the other members of his family. He attributes this to his deadlines, but he's had deadlines in the past…his rejection of me in bed the other night hit me very hard, and yet I let the subject drop and didn't raise it again, something I would never let one of my clients get away with.

Alice and Faith have been in mourning for those dearest to their hearts, and while I acknowledge that their pain has been (even continues to be) lacerating at times, I find myself half wishing for a familial relationship that was as tight as the bond between Alice and her grandmother Irene or half as loving as what Faith and Ben had. While our marriage is solid and essentially healthy, Eli doesn't even take out the trash, let alone kiss me good-bye on the way to the compactor. Although my mother isn't interested in knowing who Molly's become, but instead in who
she
wants Molly to be, and has never quite known what to make of Ian, and always seems bemused by Eli and me, I do admit to being grateful that I'm not constantly dancing as fast as I can in an attempt to please or appease someone like Talia's mother.

I used to think I had a relatively functional childhood. Sure, my parents argued from time to time, but it was never about the big stuff. They'd quarrel about who left the bread on top of the refrigerator, and I never grasped at the time what the big deal was. Why such a fuss about a loaf of bread? Who cares? So I'd do stuff like put the loaf in the bread box where it belonged, playing the peacemaker, the problem solver. It took years (and a couple of psych classes) before I understood that my parents' argument had nothing to do with the bread.

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