I was sitting at Avanti's, waiting for my pizza and looking for a pen in my bag, when my hand fell upon my pack of tarot cards. I paused. I had forgotten that they were in there; they were in a side pocket that is rather inconspicuous if you're not looking for it. It felt like my hand wanted to stay there, wrapped around the cards; so, I pulled the pack out. I put my hand into the plastic baggy I keep my cards in, and my fingers were drawn to a card in the middle of the deck. I pulled it out.
It was a major arcana. Judgment.
I didn't know the exact meaning, but it felt significant nonetheless. I stared at it. It has a painting of an angelic creature on it, blowing a trumpet. When I got back to the dorm, I looked the exact meaning up.
It's a challenge.
The judgement is the moment where you're supposed to face your past; not just face it, but resurrect it, forgive it, and put it to rest. In other words, there's something I have to do. Something I've been putting off. I can guess what it is well enough, but whether I admit it or not is another matter entirely.
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