The Fool, Card #0
I am writing this column after watching the new release of Mucho Mucho Amor, the Netflix documentary celebrating the life of Walter Mercado, one of the most famous psychics of all time. When I was growing up, I was cared for by an old woman while my mother worked, and she always had the television tuned in to the channel where Walter would come up in commercials and dedicated shows, to divulge the hidden forces shaping our days and lives. I was always transfixed. My mind cherished and carried the legacy of his image, androgynous, mystical, ageless, into adulthood. I still look back to his outrageous capes for aesthetic inspiration and even as cultural referents. People revere him with an admiration reserved only for him and for la Guadalupe (the Latin-American Virgin Mary), both wonderfully and without coincidence queer in their own way: The Virgin conceived a child without ever engaging in the sexual act, and Walter was beautiful and genderless. He only has sex with life, with beauty, with nature, he said in the documentary.
And now, as I write about Tarot, I feel obliged to begin this column both by paying proper homage and clarifying the core of it all:
“I’m a fortune-teller, but I don’t want to know my future. I just want to enjoy every moment of my life.” Walter Mercado.
Walter Mercado, ready to deliver the forces that shape our future. If you have never had la dicha of seeing him on TV, I highly recommend looking up one of his shows on Youtube.
Likewise, I have rarely sought out my own future in Tarot cards. I quickly learned it was not good practice for a fortune-teller to ask about themselves. This hardly takes away from its value, since telling the future is but a small component of learning how to read Tarot. Learning to read cards has been, by itself, a practice in stillness and silence. Before attempting to even shuffle through the cards, one has to learn to sit quietly. Only in this stillness is movement apparent, only in silence can sound be made out.
That brings us to the first card of the Tarot, card 0, known as The Fool.
Tarot card #0, The Fool, from the Rider-Waite deck, drawn by Pamela Colman Smith.
The fool is a blind individual. In blindness, The Fool begins a journey without a clear beginning and without a predetermined ending. His feet thread between the ground and the precipice, and he never knows whether his next step will find stone or empty space. His guide is a dog, a small creature, invisible to The Fool, that gently barks as The Fool inches towards the precipice’s edge. On one hand, he carries a white rose, a symbol of purity and innocence. On the other, he carries a few belongings and sustenance, a singular bag of things to hold on to throughout the journey. One does not know where this bag originated from, but it might be safe to assume that the bag is the only thing that ties The Fool to a home, a home which has dissipated in this story, and that The Fool perhaps does not remember and makes no attempt to return to. The Fool only steps in no direction, with no goal in mind, with only a barking dog, a few precious belongings, and a rose in hand.
In the Tarot, The Fool symbolizes the beginning of life. The rest of the Tarot Major Arcana, from 1 to 21, describe ways in which The Fool goes from being completely blind to being able to see everything.
Being a Tarot reader himself, perhaps Walter Mercado wished to emulate The Fool in his final moments. The quote above, of enjoying each of life’s moments, is exactly what The Fool teaches us is at the very core of life. Being card 0, this card does not have a linear or numerological hierarchy in relation to the other cards, for the number 0 is everywhere and nowhere, it is of no consequence towards the other numbers, it is present in all of them. The Fool, in his blindness and endless youth and possibility, never ceases to embody each of life’s moments, regardless of how much we might believe we have aged or opened our eyes. We can even assume, too, that The Fool’s dog is a constant and watchful companion, and that the white rose does not wither.
Another rendition of The Fool, from the Thoth deck, painted by Frieda Harris. This card, heavy with symbolism from the Hermetic Qabalah, the Torah, Greek mythology, Vedic Astrology, Thelema, and so on, was originally not used for divination, but meant to serve as a tool for meditation on the meaning of The Fool. Here, the dog holds onto The Fool’s leg as The Fool expands his body outwards and stares at us with his blind gaze.