It’s only now beginning to sink in. What I’ve done, I mean. If you would have asked me a year ago whether I’d ever be a deck artist/creator, I’d probably have sighed and said, “Maybe, someday.” And then even after I started working on the Lenormand, I didn’t consider actual cards in actual boxes with an actual book… but so much momentum was building and there was only one way to go. And now here I am, reading emails and forum posts and blog entries that other people are writing about my cards, as they hold them in their hands.

It’s very surreal to me.

It’s hard to read the good stuff and the bad stuff. I shouldn’t say that, but it’s true. The bad stuff is just painful. The good stuff is just perplexing. You know how when you bake twelve dozen cookies for some big event and then you get done and everyone rants and raves about the cookies but you can’t even touch them because you spent all that time making them and looking at them kind of makes you a little queasy? It’s almost like that.

I’ve got a handful of decks left and then poof! What next? A book maybe. Who knows. Going back to the cards, going back to tarot. Back to my sitters. Back to self. That’s where it all begins.

The week I sent out the pre-ordered decks I also finished all the requirements of my Bachelor’s degree and my daughter took her first steps. In the weeks before that, my son turned three and I traveled to New York City for Readers Studio. Days earlier I got my cast off my fractured wrist — and I’m still healing. Maybe I just need to relax for awhile, but the wheel keeps turning and I’m compelled to move. There will always be milestones, challenges and rites, conferences, meetings and coffee with friends, roller derby, reading and writing, that creative fire burning, prickling my fingers to make something new.

The Rider, the Stork and the Snake cards from The Melissa Lenormand.

These are my cards today. This is what I am now. The Rider is the industrious maker — the push forward — the momentum that keeps the wheel spinning. The Stork is the divine inspiration, the seed of new creation. The Snake is the knowledge of good and evil, that precocious balance I strive for and sometimes hit — my head wrapped around these new ideas — my obsessive nature that won’t let me drop it, won’t let me feel at ease. It’s wonderful and dangerous and difficult — but it always is, I imagine, when you run 250 copies of yourself and fling them out into the world.

This is a series of blog posts about my life in tarot and my experiences as a tarot reader. The characters in the series are based on people I actually read for — sometimes I’ve combined traits and readings from more than one client into one character for the purpose of storytelling (just in case you’re a regular of mine and see a bit of yourself in here). I love all my clients and respect their privacy, so key names and details have been changed. I’d love to hear your feedback about this series and whether you’d like to hear more! Previous installments of the series can be found here.

I do have standards. Who I will read for, who I won’t. What I will read about, what I won’t. I’ve never read for men who were romantically interested in me. I don’t read for children or teenagers – only adults who are capable of taking personal responsibility for their choices and actions. I don’t read about medical conditions. I don’t like to read about legal matters, and to cover my bases now, I have to explain in plain English, that my readings are for entertainment only (imagine me spitting those words out). In the state of Ohio, I became an ordained minister of the Church of Universal Life (online) in order to provide “spiritual counseling”. I still have my certificate, that I printed out from the webpage (it even has the URL at the top), in a binder – just in case I’m ever hassled. In some states and counties, fortune telling, as they put it in the books, is completely illegal.

I read for myself all the time. This is probably the greatest benefit of reading cards – how you can use them for yourself. I don’t read compulsively on every decision I’m faced with. Instead I typically draw one to three cards a day, make some notes in my journal, and let myself be surprised by how Universe finds a way to place those cards in my path. Certain cards resonate with me so deeply. The Empress is the third card in the Major Arcana. She represents a feminine receptive energy, sensuality, sexuality, motherhood. She’s typically depicted as voluptuous or pregnant or surrounded by animals. Over the years I’ve connected with her raw sexual energy, her fertility and now, her store of womanly wisdom. I’m constantly amazed by the new lessons that the Empress teaches me. She’s a good friend of mine. I’ve even made photo-copies of that card from my favorite decks to tape to my bathroom mirror. She reminds me of the things I want to be and I’m grateful for her influence in my life.

I even read for other tarot readers. Thanks to the internet I’ve gotten to know many tarot readers all over the world and even form close friendships with a few. I read cards for them – partially out of professional courtesy, but also because I have a lot of guts. It can be intimidating to read for someone who is reading the cards in a completely different fashion as you’re throwing them on the table. And that’s part of the charm of tarot. Everyone has their own reading voice and style. Some readers claim to channel spirits. Some say they are psychic – in the very day-time television sense of the word. Others, like me, say that we’re just readers. That we’re energy consultants – and we open dialogues with the self that you might have otherwise shied away from.

Jan is another tarot reader. She works full-time in a dreadful retail position and does tarot consulting in her precious free time. She is one of my regular querents – often asking me for spiritual advice. She senses this great void in her life and longs for something to fill it up. Over the years I’ve been reading for her, we’ve worked on big questions she’s had – meaning of life kind of stuff. Her readings are typically intense, but incredibly satisfying for me – only because her attitude toward the cards is so open and she just loves to talk her way through one of my readings. It’s more fun when the sitter is engaged in the reading, asking questions and pointing out things in the cards I might have missed on my own. There’s no happier feeling for me than sitting over a spread of cards with a cup of coffee and a good friend with a soft, open heart.

Remember the girl from the beginning? The grad school question? There were five cards on the table, and I was pointing to each, in-between each and trying my best to figure out the cardinal directions from where I was sitting, as I explained to her what she might encounter if she chose one certain grad program over another. After I would finish up each one, she would smile and nod, her eyes bright and focused on the table. She didn’t say much while I was reading, just asking a few questions about the particulars of the cards. When I finished the reading, I let it sink in a few minutes while she continued her careful examination of the spread.

“Well, was it good?”

“Yes!” she smiled widely, “It was so good. It was so fun. It was… different than what I was expecting.”

Yes. The Universe usually is.

This is a series of blog posts about my life in tarot and my experiences as a tarot reader. The characters in the series are based on people I actually read for — sometimes I’ve combined traits and readings from more than one client into one character for the purpose of storytelling (just in case you’re a regular of mine and see a bit of yourself in here). I love all my clients and respect their privacy, so key names and details have been changed. I’d love to hear your feedback about this series and whether you’d like to hear more! Previous installments of the series can be found here.

Energy is the other factor in what I do. I’m not a religious person and I find that my religious ideas are really irrelevant anyway. Tarot may be viewed as a spiritual practice – and indeed it is helpful to connect to ones high sense of self. But I do believe that any energy I use up, give off, is used up and given off by someone or something else. The energy is all connected. I call this the Universe. It’s sort of the force that compels me. And maybe that’s how the cards work. By tapping into that realm or dimension where we sense things on the elemental Universal energy level. I like to feel like I’m in touch with the Universe. Capital U.

I’ve never done the phone lines, but I’ve thought about it. After my kids were born, I was no longer comfortable having strangers come into my house for readings and getting out of the house became more and more impractical. Regular clients know my phone number and if I wasn’t able to arrange a meeting or phone call, I would read for them on chat or through email. The internet has changed everything (even psychic counseling!) and I regularly get referrals for my email readings. It’s a steady source of income, but I miss the cash I could bring in with face-to-face readings. Not to mention the energy exchange – it’s a bit of a rush when you’re right on.

I sat next to the chair by the front door for a good ten minutes. Waffling. I really wanted to go to the bar and hand the tender my card and say, Hey, hire me! But I didn’t want to go either. I was afraid I’d sit there most of the night by myself, feeling silly and out of place, afraid I’d lose the courage to talk to anyone — and yet I also felt the Universe nudging me out, gently. Here’s your purse, Universe said. Make sure you have some cash to buy a beer and leave a tip. Now put your boots on and go!

It was fortunate that a few old friends who I hadn’t seen in a long while happened to be there. It was doubly fortunate that the bar owner himself showed up. I worked up the courage to introduce myself when I noticed he was taking a break, drinking a beer at the bar.

He was really open to the idea of having me read there. He took my card and asked me all kinds of questions. He said he always thought it was interesting and his sister gets her cards read frequently. He said that he would think about it and put some feelers out to see if his customers would be interested in it.

When I got back to my table, a woman — friend of a friend, asked what I was doing. I told her how I read cards and wanted to start reading at the bar. She pursed her lips and said, “Uh, want to… practice… on me?”

I just shrugged and said, sure. Universe was in my bag, practically pulling my cards out before I even got my hands in. I put down five cards, met her eyes, and opened my mouth to speak.

Ten minutes later, she sat there quiet, lips parted — like the words wouldn’t materialize. Finally, she cried out, “It’s like you’ve known me my whole life!” grabbed her purse and started rifling through it. She pulled out a tiny wallet and shoved a wad of cash in my face. “Here! Take it! Please!! It’s all the cash I have.”

I never ended up reading in the bar. It was too draining to be super-mom all day and super-tarot reader all night. But when you’re open to the gentle nudges of Universe, you find yourself in situations that are surprising, exciting and new.