How skulls helped me see the light

So, how did I come to be writing a post about skulls? Quite organically it seems.

Two days ago, after I read my recent Blue post to my daughter, I was talking to her about writing and how tarot provides endless source material. To show her what I meant, and no doubt to prove it to myself yet again, I reached for the closest deck, which happened to be the Folkloric Forest Tarot, and started shuffling.

While my intentions were purely demonstrative, it quickly became apparent that the cards and my subconscious had other ideas.

Unbeknownst to me at the time, looking at the randomly selected card, The Hermit, sowed the seed for what was to come. My eyes were inexplicably drawn to the skull and almost immediately ideas and connections and a sense of enthusiasm I hadn’t expected sprang forth. My daughter was on the receiving end of all this creative energy.

But to her credit, she smiled patiently and continued to listen and nod at the appropriate times, right up until I reached for my computer. Then she was free to get back to what she’d been doing and I was free to get some of these initial thoughts down before I had to go and start prepping dinner. Where it was all going to take me I had no idea, but tarot had yet again proven itself to be a wonderful writing prompt.

Usually when I look at this particular Hermit card it’s the paper with the handwritten notes that I’m drawn to. That would come as no surprise to anyone that knows me. I love the written word.  So even though I can’t read what they say, I like that the words and the paper are there. Plus, they remind me to pick up a pen, flip open my journal, and let whatever needs to come out do so on the page. Therefore I find it easy to connect with this part of the image.

But the skull, that’s a different story.

For a long time I never understood the appeal in skulls. I knew they had symbolic value, but I always found them quite macabre. And that’s just not my thing. So neither were skulls.

But things can change.

Now I’m looking at the skull on the card, and I have no desire to look away. I want to know its story. I know it has one. Everything does. Yet for now, all I know for sure is that this skull’s story involves some pretty heavy trauma. Those cracks aren’t cranial sutures: they’re fractures. This skull has been broken. That would explain why the lantern isn’t lit. But the door is open, so all hope isn’t lost. I can see that.

Therefore, right now, I can no longer ignore the fact that behind me, in the upper right-hand corner of my office, hanging off a curtain hook, is a lantern. Prior to today I couldn’t tell you the last time I’d actually paid it any attention. The dust and cobwebs I was confronted with when I pulled it down are a testament to that. Fortunately, cleaning its surfaces was pretty quick and easy, so it looks so much better now. Though, for the moment, I have to admit that it remains unlit. But, at least I have moved it into view. Now it sits on my desk alongside the crystal skull.

Yes, you read that right — alongside the crystal skull. Every day I sit with the very thing that I used to find unappealing and a tad off putting looking back at me, including right now. What’s more, now, rather than finding it creepy, I find stroking its textured surfaces soothing.

So, not only do things change, they can do so quickly.

Skulls are a constant reminder of that. Generally they are said to represent the impermanence of life, but for me they also speak to the impermanence of thoughts and beliefs.

In his book, The Subtle Art of not Giving a F*ck, Mark Manson writes,

Instead of striving for certainty, we should be in constant search of doubt: doubt about our own beliefs, doubt about our own feelings, doubt about what the future may hold for us unless we get out there and create it for ourselves.

When I read that book, I thought a lot of things, some of them not so positive, but I never thought I’d be linking it to The Hermit, or to skulls, but here I am. Furthermore, thoughts I was fairly certain wouldn’t change, have done just that and I’m sure more will follow.

If you’re wondering what brought about this particular change, well, surprise, surprise it was another tarot deck — the Crystal Skull Tarot.

I first saw the Crystal Skull Tarot when it was offered for sale on a Facebook Tarot Buy and Sell group I follow. A previously unopened indie deck selling for $20AUD, with a guidebook written by Rachel Pollack, seemed worth taking a chance on. Besides, some of the cards shown seemed kind of sweet. But given my thoughts around skulls I did still question whether it was going to be suitable for me. Would I ever actually use it?

Short answer, yes. Creator Jessie Driscoll had done her crystal homework. This was an incredibly well thought out tarot deck and one I connected to very quickly.

So, as you may have guessed, now I wanted a crystal skull. It took me a year, but eventually I found the one that felt right. I wasn’t familiar with the crystal yooperlite but that didn’t matter. I knew as soon as I was holding this particular yooperlite skull in my hand that it was coming home with me. So did my husband. He knows that once I’m clutching a crystal to my heart, completely oblivious to the crowds around me, there’s no way I’m putting it back down. The way it was carved and its mottled grey, brown, black, and white colouring fit perfectly with the image I didn’t realise I’d had.

Now, if you’re familiar with yooperlite, you’ll know what’s coming next. At the time I didn’t. Yooperlite, (so named because of its discovery in the Upper Peninsular region of Michigan), is a syenite-rich fluorescent sodalite. So, as soon as the lady running the stall shone a UV light in my direction, the skull in my hand no longer looked anything like the one I had picked up.

Another thing skulls are said to represent is transformation and rebirth, and this idea was brought to life, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, in my own hand.

My skull transformed from something I already loved to something so much more. The earthy tones were now illuminated with bright orange sections reminiscent of a brain being “lit up” as neurons fire and create new connections. It’s how I imagine my brain would have looked when I started talking to Lani about the way tarot benefits writing and writing benefits my understanding of tarot.

Ultimately, uncovering what was previously hidden from view, didn’t make me love the unlit skull any less. But the UV light did show me that there was so much more to see. Tarot can do the same thing. We just need to know, and be prepared, to look.

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Decks featured in this post

Folkloric Forest Tarot created and self-published in 2024 by Lennox Rees.

Crystal Skull Tarot created and self-published in 2020 by Jessie Driscoll with guidebook by Rachel Pollack

Note

The painting on IX The Hermit in the Folkloric Forest Tarot is titled Vanitas Still Life by B Schaak 1675-1700

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