lesson 40: tarot’s time, reiki, ai, midjourney and my journey. A hodgepodge lesson with a spell.

LESSON 40:
I can tell already this post will be pretty discursive. But fun! Enjoy. (Note from future me: “Fun” may have been a bit of a mis judgement—but another f-word, fascinating, applies.)

This last weekend, I attended Reiki I and II training—something that, a year ago, would never have occurred to me. During the session, we got in the topic of AI. My teacher is an artist who actually likes AI for certain applications, like illustrating a slide deck. I remembered the deck I’m using this week, Lynae Ariadne Zebest’s Primordial Dreams Tarot--the only AI deck I have and use. I brought the deck out to bring to session II and enabled another buyer, one of my great special skills. (Did Reiki make me do it???) 

I’m not a fan of AI, but I’m not a fundy. I think that if we can countenance the environmental issues (and those are important), there are reasons to use it—including the creation of simulations for dangerous jobs, as well as accessibility for people with various disabilities. When I saw Lynae’s work at last year’s Reader’s Studio, I had a feeling it was AI—but I also kept coming back to look at it. In talking with Lynae, I learned they’re an artist (primarily sculpture) who wanted to explore the idea of using AI (MidJourney, in this case) as a divination tool. This is something that’s occurred to me, too, though I haven’t used it. They both used AI to divine the deck but also to create the imagery. When actual artists use AI, I find many of the ethical arguments that bother me less of an issue. For someone who isn’t an artist to make art with AI, there’s something one-sided about it. It’s taking art that trained the engine and not giving anything back. On the other hand, artists always give back in the form of creating and giving their work to the world—and, though AI has been trained on the stuff out there in the world, artists are always influenced by and influencing each other. 

But this isn’t a post about AI; it’s a reading. I just wanted to highlight why I accept this deck and not others. First, the artist is upfront about how and why they made the deck (for themself, not for release—the deck went to market after people began requesting copies); second, the exploration of AI is a spiritual/divinatory tool; third, and for me most important, the idea of using the world’s newest technology (AI) to simulate and recreate the world’s oldest technology (cave paintings). And that is what this deck is inspired by: ancient cave paintings. And I find the whole experience of this deck exceptionally cool. My only actual critique of this deck is that it’s difficult to know which cards you’re looking at unless you really study them. I’ve written the titles in tiny print in the corners so I can see them more quickly, but I’m told the creator is considering a second edition with the titles to make it easier to read. I support this. 

What we have this spread:
Ace of Earth (4), Seven of Earth (2), The Fool/O (1), Five of Earth (3), Eight of Water (5).
(If you’re new to this spread, the number following the card title indicates the order in which I drew and laid out the card. I work this spread from the middle out.)

This is an EARTHY reading—and I love that, because the cave paintings are the earthiest form of art: literally. They are made of inks and dyes that come from the earth, applied to the earth. And we start with The Fool! 

There are times divination amazes me and this is one. Because I’m using an AI deck—a thing many, many people are entirely against, even without context—some of you may think I’m a fool for supporting this one. (I’m not; it’s exceptionally good. It’s a special deck, you can feel it.) I think, however, that this is more about having zero expectations in the act of divination, and maybe even from the tools we use. 

I mentioned at the start I attended Reiki I and II this week and that if you asked me a year ago that would never have crossed my mind. If you asked me six months ago, it wouldn’t have. Suddenly, it announced itself as the “next thing” in my journey and before I knew it, I was registered and signed up for the sessions. I don’t even know if I “believe” in Reiki? Like, I know it exists and helps people . . . and I’ve had it . . . but I also feel like maybe I’m not capable of doing it? Or even benefitting from it? But at the same time, literally anyone who wants to and has access to a teacher who will give them training and placements/attunements can practice it. . . For some reason, during session II I had a great morning and then a crash midway through the second half that made me think the whole thing was all a big Ponzi scheme. This morning I didn’t know what to think, and then this afternoon I offered my sister a remote session—and based on her experience, it sounds like it worked. So who knows? (Note from future me: I have had some evidential experiences in the last day that have someone changed my mind, but I’m a cynic at heart.)

I chose Reiki precisely because it has become so democratic. In early days in the Western world, it could be difficult to both find and afford. These days, that’s changed. There are teachers out there who will attune you for very little, and really having the attunements is the only thing you need to have in order to practice—though some basic education would help. You cannot be a Reiki guru, because Reiki has nothing to do with you. The practitioner is a channel, a conduit through which the energy passes—not unlike tarot’s Magician. Reiki is not the practitioner’s energy; it’s its own. And the healing isn’t done by the conduit, it’s done by the recipient’s body. But by the same token, it’s in the “subtle energy” tradition and, boy, can it be subtle as fuck. 

One of the things we talked about in class was the ego, a topic dear to me, and how the practitioner really needs to remember that this isn’t about them. We have nothing to do with it, other than having had the attunements and serving in the role of facilitator. But the ego still wants to feel special, and I’ve been struggling with that. Because it’s not about me, I can’t be “good” or “bad” at it, which means there’s nothing to be praised or corrected for. There’s not sense of feedback, other than that clients typically will say, “wow, that was relaxing!” Nice. So is a boring story. The other thing is, the practitioner has no say on what the Reiki does inside the body of the client. We can intend that it address the client’s pain or concern, but it knows better than we do how to do that and where, so we’re really more of a squirt gun directing Reiki than we are a healer. This is as it should be, but it does make it somewhat . . . something. 

The thing about practicing Reiki, it seems to me (recall: I’m not an expert) is to have no expectations. That is difficult to do, but it’s actually key to reading, too. When we lay out the cards, especially for ourselves, we’re expecting something—obviously an answer, but many times we’re also expecting something else: joy or despair. “Yes, you well get the thing,” or “Yes, you are going to die soon,” or “No, you’re going to have to live a long-ass life, or “No, you’re not getting the thing.” Now, I’m not saying we’re expecting a particular outcome—only that there will be an outcome, and it will either be the best thing ever or the worst thing we’ll ever deal with. And, like the experience of Reiki, the reality is typically much subtler than that. Usually it winds up being, “You’ll kind of get the thing and then when you see it, you won’t care anymore.” Or, “No, you won’t get the thing, but you won’t be upset about that part—you’ll really be upset about the fact that you don’t feel seen or chosen.”

Every reading really should start with no expectations. The Fool has none, which is why they actually are sometimes in a risky position. See, one of the things that keeps us safe is the fear that something bad will happen if, say, we ride a motorcycle on the highway without protection. Fear actually protects us. Of course for many of us, it protects us from things that don’t exist and aren’t happening, and it becomes chronic. But the point of fear is to stop is doing things that are, like . . . , bad.

Flanked by two earth cards, the 7 and 5, we’re on unstable earth. That, then, suggests sands or even wetlands. Walking isn’t easy because the terrain isn’t just uneven, it is literally shifting beneath the Fool’s feet. The 7/earth reminds us that we’re in a moment of reflection, wondering what exactly it is we’re expecting and desiring from life; the 5/earth reminding is that it’s probably not what we thought it was. The goals we once had evolve and even if they remain similar, they’re different enough to not be the same at heart. In fact, we may even be afraid that our lives will end, that we will be shut out, if we stop caring about the things we used to care about and make it known that we now care about new things. 

But, see, that’s expectation, isn’t it? “If I stop caring about X or start caring about Y, then people will shun me . . .” Certainly that’s an expected outcome, these days, but it’s not fated. And I think this is a timely message, because the world is very different—outwardly—than it was a year ago. Six months ago, even. The quiet parts are not only being spoken out loud, they’re being shouted through the loudest microphones in the world—and the legislation that once covered marginalization with fancy, progressive-sounding language, is simply out-and-out discriminatory in ways we haven’t seen since the “US” Constitution got written by a red-headed human trafficker who played the violin. 

What the world needs from diviners is changing. 

This, in fact, happens to be why I decided to take Reiki I and II (and likely III, down the line) and why I’m separately working on a degree program in metaphysical studies. My clients have begun asking for things they used not to. I could say, “No, go elsewhere.” Or I could recognize that the job is changing and I can evolve with it. 

The “brand” or lineage of Reiki I was certified in this weekend is known as Usui/Holy Fire® III Reiki, received by International Center for Reiki Training founder William Lee Rand. This is an “evolved” practice, which announced itself to practitioners over time and has “upgraded” twice since then. This is what the “III” represents. It’s not level three reiki, it is the third iteration of Usui/Holy Fire® Reiki. (It’s required to use the “Registered” symbol when referencing the title in print, according to my manual. To be honest, I find that pretentious. It’s like putting the “Copyright” symbol every time you reference the title of a book or deck in print. The Primordial Dreams Tarot© would be fine once, but every time it’s clumsy and difficult on the eyes.) I bring this up not to comment on the name, because I actually feel quite lucky to have chosen the teacher I did who is trained to teach this version—the central core of learning to see ourselves with the same joy that “God” sees us is beautiful (that comes not from the course materials, but from a poem read to us at the end of each day by our teacher). I bring it up because it occurred to me this weekend that Reiki has really curated its own journey. From “arriving” to its founder (Mikao Usui, or Usui Senei), it evolved with its transition from Usui to one of its second-gen stewards, Chujiro Hayashi (from sitting to prone patients, for example), and further once Hayashi Sensei introduced it to its first “Western” steward, Mrs. Hawayo Takata—who “simplified” it for those not used to Japanese culture, thinking, faithways, and philosophy. After her death, the stewards she trained changed it further.

I say “changed,” but if you follow the logic, it wasn’t they that changed Reiki; rather, it was Reiki who announced that it was time for it to be changed and that this particular steward was the one to do it. Contrary to common Western thought, Usui Sensei’s methods have not been lost. After World War II, the US’s regulations forced energy practitioners to train and license as massage therapists, and so the Usui tradition went “underground” and private, a club, to avoid this. Reiki seems to evolve as it wants to when it wants to. Much like life. 

The life we all knew in 2024 is gone forever. I mean, that’s always the case; the life we know six weeks ago is gone, the life we knew yesterday is gone. But we’re in a uniquely unsettled time, as the current “president” of the so-called United States today promised the president of another nation that he’d be imprisoning “homegrowns” in that foreign land, so he better start building more prisons. This is where we are, and we have no evidence to suggest that’s bluster. We cannot pretend the world is as it was. 

This is underscored by the Ace of Earth on the left. When paired with its nearest neighbor, the 7, we understand that one reason we’re evaluating where we are is because we are in such an unsettled, such an unformed moment. The illusion that there is anyone at the wheel is gone, as is the illusion that anyone we ever thought had the wheel was steering in the ways we assumed and were told. So . . . In fact, I will venture the somewhat self-important assertion that divination is going to become increasingly more important, in increasingly real ways. (I’m also remembering a conversation in my class this weekend about how the HolyFire® [don’t forget the symbol!] energy is “upgrading” again [the quotes are because that’s not my word, it’s not one I’d reach for; it’s Rand’s] and in some ways the Earth [as a concept and energy] is, too. “Access” to spirit and divinity seems, according to this theory, to be growing more necessary—but also more accessible to more people.)

Now, we turn to the only other element in the spread: eight of water. And all I can think of is the phrase emotional labor. That’s one of the things I do enjoy about not working with the Waite-Smith images. In fact, I haven’t really used the images on any of these cards to interpret—which isn’t uncommon in my world—though the imagery does create an overall mood for me. Eights are labor, work; cups, clearly, emotion. But I want to take this further, because the theme develops. Not emotional, here, but spiritual. Spirituality isn’t necessarily implied by water, but it’s also not not implied by it. I’ve written about this in prior posts. Spiritual labor, spiritual work. Our work, and my experience is bearing this out, is also going to demand more spirituality. Both from us, and maybe from spirit. Why? Because of that ace. Life is currently so unformed, it is so unmoored, and so ungoverned that we’re—to borrow a tired phrase—out in the “wild wild west,” which weirdly does feel implied by this style of art. When there is no surety, no certainty, and—frankly—not much to believe in, spiritual work in going to become increasingly important. 

In essence, this reading is saying: “Calling all fortune tellers, freaks, witches, diviners, doctors (the pre-colonial kind), rooters, conjurers . . . because this is what you’ve been training for.” But it’s also saying, “Do not make this about you. Do not have expectations of what will happen, what you will be called on to do, what you will be seeing—anything. You must go in with total openness, because literally anything could happen in this most unstable of unstable times.”

AI imagery, particularly this sorta expressionistic style, typically feels cold and remote to me. There’s a distance, even in more representational and photorealistic images—maybe even especially in photorealism, thanks to the uncanny valley factor—in a lot of AI art. Not so, these cards. The beasts depicted all feel somehow mythical and earthly, surreal and real. And these animals, in particular—the boar-like beast on the 7/earth, the sorta cougar/bearlike boyo on the 5/earth, and the antlered animal on the 8/water—have a protective vibe to them. Which suggests to me that there is sanctuary and safety in the spirit, too, but it must activated spirituality—these cards do not feel static in in person—for it to truly be a refuge. 

This is not the lesson I imagined giving. In fact, I sensed at the start that it would be discursive (it was), but fun! I wouldn’t call this fun. Of course, my outlook is somewhat bleak of late—but I’m actually not in a particularly bad mood today. In fact, I wonder if the Reiki—which I began to doubt aggressively during the last half of my second workshop—is working. But I do think there’s something to be said about going both where the cards and life take us in some ways. After my first formal Reiki session with a practitioner, one I found relaxing but not particularly memorable, I began sensing I would get certified. After I picked up a book on the topic, curiosity drove me to booking a class. I needed to know what the attunements felt like, for example, and what the symbols that are both totally secret and simultaneously all over the internet did and how they were used. It is said that when Reiki calls you, you’re inevitably going to answer. But this all happened so quickly, I had no time to find any evidence that it did anything--aside from the really dramatic stories I’d heard about people’s experiences with it. Not second- or third-hand, either. Nearly everyone I know who had experienced it had had a pretty major, memorable moment with it. I had some lovely moments during my classes, and I’m not sure what it was that made me start going into cynical mode . . . well, I do: ego. But I’m not sure what tripped it. 

I woke up wondering why I’d spent the money and also feeling disappointed that it didn’t work and also sad that I wouldn’t need to take level III. But I also went looking for more books about it, kept reading the parts of the manual that I hadn’t yet, and began the day by giving myself an overall session and sending a practice distance session to my sister. So . . . I’m both completely certain that it doesn’t work and that it’s just a non-denominational cult without a leader, and that it surely does work and I’m seeing little evidences all over the place. This includes something I’d taken to mean that it was all nonsense: In the time since having my initial experience as a patient and signing up for the class, my mood, outlook, and health got worse. I felt like absolutely garbage for a little more than two weeks, getting increasingly angrier and despondent, right up until the day before my class—so much so that I really thought about not going and just eating the cost (which wasn’t crazy, but wasn’t nothing—especially “in this economy”). I’d read that a “healing crises” can occur as your body starts purging garbage you’ve built up over—in my case—a lifetime. And while I wondered if that might be happening, I was egotistical (and insecure) enough to understand that I’m always the exception to the rule in a bad way. Things might work amazingly--but not on/for me. 

But another of the students had basically the same experience I did, and I thought--huh.

I do that a lot, now. 

Trying not to have expectations is difficult.
Especially since, of late, the magic eight ball of logic says all signs point to DOOM.
Divination, oddly, has not been telling me the same things. 

The skeptic, one even more skeptical than I, would say: “What if it’s just giving you false hope?” 

To which I’d say, “sometimes that’s the only kind we can muster. Doesn’t mean it won’t keep the engine running a little longer.”

And this reading shows, too, that the reality isn’t being denied by divination—but that our expectations are not necessarily the projected outcome at this time. And given the complete and total surreal lack of logic going on in the world today, it’s logical to say that the logical outcome of an action is not what we should be expecting. We live in a world where two+two does not necessarily yield four. Truth is made malleable. So logic isn’t helpful. 

But divination . . . ? 

Maybe it’s time has really come. 

​A read of one’s own
I’d written out a whole spell for this week’s spread when Weebly crashed—I cannot tell you how much I regret hosting my website with them, and how much I really recommend that you avoid using them at all costs. While my frustration hasn’t boiled over as it usually would, I’m still fucking pissed. 

ANYWAY. 

Here’s a quicker version of what I’d written, which is now lost and gone forever. 

1. Fan out a deck face down and pass your hand over the cards to feel which 3 you want to select. If you use Reiki, go for it.

2. Take those three cards out without looking at them and put them aside, facedown. 

3. Shuffle the rest of the deck and set the intention that the cards you draw next will tell you how your divination skills will be leveling up to meet the moment. Cut and draw at least three, but as many as you’d like, to answer that intention. 

4. The three cards you took out earlier are the recipe for a spell to help you amp up to that new goal more quickly. They might be advice or instructions or even a energy that unlocks something unexpected. Let them guide you. Don’t tell them what they mean. Be quiet and they will tell you. Also, don’t go expecting thunder and lightning, here. Probably the easiest, first thing that springs to mind is the recipe. Just don’t harm yourself or someone who doesn’t deserve it.