Tarot Reading Two: The Two-Card Spread

Before introducing the two-card spread, let's consider duality in general terms. The number two is about opposites, complements, and pairs. Every time there is an "either/or", there's a two. Sometimes this takes the form of apparently incompatible opposites, good/evil, black/white, etc. More often, it is better to think of the elements of a pair as complementing (completing) each other, like male/female, summer/winter, or figure/ground. If you think of opposites, then the two becomes a symbol of choice and decision, like the two paths in Robert Frost's poem. If you think of complements, then the two becomes a symbol of balance, collaboration, or cyclic change.

Mystically, at least, one is led to think of all pairs as different expressions of a single, underlying duality in life: yin and yang, if you will. It is from this perspective that we get a host of symbolic associations for such pairs as light/dark and male/female. The male/female symbolism, of course, is not to be taken too literalistically, as we all know. Men and women each possess a wide range of qualities. But still, it is an interesting exercise to try to order all pairs under the symbolism of a single pair. Traditionally, the yin side includes the feminine, the dark, the mysterious, the passive, the silent, the fluid; while the yang side includes the masculine, the light, the obvious, the aggressive, the rigid. It is a worthwhile exercise to mentally assign everything you encounter to one or the other of these categories. If you do that exercise, you'll come to create a personalized understanding of duality that will be very helpful in working with the cards.

There is a lot of dualism in the tarot. There are some obvious pairs of cards like Moon/Sun, Empress/Emperor amd High Priestess / Hierophant (Papess/Pope in traditional decks). There are also many pairs in the imagery of particular cards: the pillars on most High Priestess cards, the Chariot's horses, the male and female figures on many Lovers and Devil cards, and so on. Be alert to both dualism within the cards, and also to pairs of cards that complement each other. After the first yin/yang exercise, an interesting follow-up is to sort the tarot cards into yin cards and yang cards, according to your personal impressions.

In the Waite-Smith and similar decks, the twos of the minor arcana run through a range of different senses of duality. The two of swords represents a decision that needs to be made. The two of cups represents the attraction of lovers seeking to complete themselves in each other, the two of pentacles represents an active, dynamic balance of practical activities. The two of wands is a bit more abstract. To me it represents a decision made, but not yet acted on.

My own favorite idea for working with dualism is the idea of figure and ground. When an artist draws or paints a shape on an empty background, two complementary forms are created at the same time: the figure and the ground surrounding it. Neither exists without the other. They are "opposite" and yet also mutually dependent. Every time we choose to make or do something, we also bring into existence its complement: the things that were not done. When we focus on the figure, we see only half of every event. A good artist will always look at the shape of the empty space created alongside each figure rendered.

Here are some more of my own yin/yang associations:

yin	yang
past	future
fate	will
death	life
others	self
matter	mind
knowledge	creativity
security	change
serenity	excitement
acceptance	initiative
duty	autonomy
unconscious	conscious

Notice how in each pair, neither item makes sense unless the other is also a possibility.

There is a two-card spread featured in the book that accompanies the Medicine Cards (a non-tarot card set), in which the two cards represent Mother Earth and Father Sky, each offering special guidance to the querent. I think anyone whose religious perspective admits both Goddess and God would find this very workable; it can also be a vehicle for addressing one's own masculine and feminine sides.

If you spend time thinking about duality, you will probably develop your own special associations for each half of the pair. Once the associations are clear, it is easy enough to make them into a card spread. As I mentioned, one of my favorite dualistic associations is that of figure and ground. On the yang side, I see the thing which is consciously produced and actively at work. On the yin side, I see the negative space its creation leaves behind, which becomes an unarticulated force, operating in the background, usually unrecognized.

To do a two-card spread, I ground and center, shuffle, and cut. Then I use a technique I got from Mary Greer's Tarot for Your Self, which she described in the context of a three-card spread. I rub the palms of my hands together until they are hot and tingly from the friction. Then I hold my left hand alternately over each of the two stacks of cards. One will feel heavy and seem to pull downward. The other will feel light and active, lifting upward. From the "heavy" stack, I draw the yin card and place it to the left. From the "light" stack, I draw the yang card and place it to the right.

I turn over the yang card first, study it for awhile, and then turn over the yin card.

When I work with the cards, my "questions" tend to fall into one of two categories: either I'm seeking understanding, or I'm seeking inspiration. The first translates into a question like "what should I know about . . . ", the second into "what should I do about . . . " The type of question influences the interpretation I give to each card in the spread.

For an "understanding" spread, the yang card represents something that is actively at work in my life, perhaps a new idea or situation coming into being. It is usually something I am conscious of, perhaps deliberately producing. It is a driving force. The yin card, on the other hand, represents what is being left behind by the action of the yang card. This may be something I am not consciously aware of at all. Every action has a reaction, every choice has consequences other than intended ones.

For an "inspiration" spread, I interpret the yang card as "something to do" and the yin card as "something to accept". When we seek guidance, most of us look just at the yang side, "what do I need to do about this?" The two-card spread is a reminder that it is equally important to understand what must be acknowledged and released before change can really take place.

Either way, it is also useful to bring in the techniques for interpreting a card pair.

In the two-card spread, the possibility arises (as it does in all spreads with more than one card) that the card meaning and position meaning may seem to be at odds with each other. What if you draw a card with a very "active" meaning for the yin position, or a card with a very "passsive" meaning for the yang position? Does this mean something isn't working? I think beginners can be confused and discouraged when the cards behave this way, and most books don't give any advice at all on handling it.

In my version of the two-card spread, I have a nice metaphor for this situation. An artist will sometimes actually work in the negative space, painting or drawing the "ground" so that the figure emerges in the remaining blank space. (Certain kinds of etching and print-making work actually demand this as the primary technique.) One temporarily reverses perspective, so that the "ground" becomes the object of active concentration, and the "figure" is allowed to take care of itself. A passive card in the yang position implies a deliberate attention to something that is usually in the background. An active card in the yin position means letting go of the active process depicted in the card, so that it takes care of itself.

Here's an example, from a two-card spread I did just a couple days ago. I found I had been feeling frustrated more often than I wanted to be, and thought it would help to create a ritual for myself, to help banish the feelings of frustration. I turned to the cards for inspiration in designing the ritual.

The yang card was the King of Cups. He's an old friend of mine, a part of my nature that I know well but don't often live out. He's a real "wine, women, and song" fellow, always making me think of The Rubbaiyat of Omar Khayyam: "A flask of wine, a book of verse, and thou." Although I consider the King of Cups a "passive" card (I seem him as completely without ambition), he made perfect sense as the "active" part of the design of the ritual. His moody, poetical, sensual character would be a deliberate focus for the ritual. The heart of the ritual would involve poetry as a verbal element and wine as a physical element. So far, so good.

The yin card was the Knight of Staves. I was using my Minchiate deck, which depicts this fellow as a warlike centaur. A quintessentially active card in a passive position. He represents an uncontrollable desire to act. Testosterone and ego. Seeing the two cards together, though, there was a very interesting pattern. The king is lounging on his thrown, very languidly, and gazing toward the knight. The centaur knight is rearing up on his hind legs, staff raised and shield forward, as if charging at the king. However, his face is turned away, looking back over his shoulder. It's almost as if his charge were being deflected by the king's authority. The "passive" King of Cups seems to be the one in charge of the situation!

Interpreting the knight as something I need to acknowledge and release, the remainder of the ritual became clear. Before the verse and wine, I would have to state something that I really want to do at the moment, something that would otherwise go unarticulated. Often these active urges (Knight of Wands) really are shoved deep in the background (yin) psychologically. If we have a desire to act angrily, violently, or impulsively, we try to bury it or ignore it. This is one of the sources of the frustration that the ritual is designed to dispell.

So, the spread worked wonderfully as an inspiration in this case. I designed a ritual around the idea of first acknowledging the charging centaur who is living in the shadows, then deflecting his energy with the old king's lazy, philosophical, poetical brand of hedonism. I think the two-card spread was perfectly suited to the task, bringing together two complementary elements of the matter in a simple, manageable way. I don't think the cards would have been able to inspire me with such eloquence had I laid out something rambling and ponderous like the Celtic Cross. Simplicity is often a great virtue.

Go to Tarot Reading Three: The Three-Card Spread

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Copyright © 1998 Tom Tadfor Little