Couple things before we get into it. This is the rare time when I’m not only sharing a real reading with you, I’m sharing a reading I did for me. I don’t read for myself that much, but when I do I’ve noticed I tend to abandon all the “rules” that even I hold to be true. And that’s why I’m sharing this with you. The primary rule this “breaks” is the common admonition not to pull more cards after you’ve laid out the spread. I do this often when reading for myself and below you can see why. That’s the lesson of this particular post: pull more cards if you damn well want to! But don’t do it haphazardly. Have a reason, have an intent. If you’re going to use additional cards, don’t randomly pull them and hope they’ll clarify the situation; dictate to the cards (something I rarely do!) what they’re meant to be discussing. You’ll see what I mean, below. I’ve added some commentary from future-me and you’ll find that in bold throughout the reading. I’ve also edited out some things that aren’t any of your business. Smiley face. I didn’t intend for this to become a blog post, but as I worked through it I realized there were a lot of learning opportunities with in it. So this is a lesson on divination, but in this case the lesson is . . . me. Finally, the topic of this reading might be triggering for some people. It’s a question of self-esteem and mental health, as well as self-perception. If you find these topics upsetting, I’d recommend skipping this one. And because this is a real reading and it’s for me, it’s worth pointing out that I’m much firmer (maybe meaner) to me than I ever am with clients. I have found that if I tiptoe around things in readings for myself, I let myself off the hook. I’ve often said, but I’m not sure this is true for everyone, that we do have to be somewhat ruthless with ourselves when we read for ourselves. You needn’t be this nasty with you, but that was kind of the whole point of the reading: I’ve been awfully mean to myself lately and I needed to dig deep and explore why. Please know that I’m A-OK, there’s no need to worry about me, and in fact doing this reading gave me the ability to download a lot of what I was feeling. Since doing it, I actually feel better. That’s obviously more important than whatever the message is. While I’m shockingly shy for a Leo and while it may simultaneously seem like I tend toward oversharing, I’m actually loathe to talk too much about my insecurities . . . because, well, I’m insecure about them. But I’ve also found that when I am open about my struggles, it makes other folx feel less alone. So if you take nothing else from this, I hope you’ll take that you are not the only one who downward spirals into self-loathing sometimes—and that, like me, you can probably lift yourself from it. It’s a trauma response. Many of us operate from shame. That can make us struggle. Here, you’ll see one way that manifests in my life. I think that’s it. OK. (Deep breath.) Here we go! The Question: Why is self-hate my body and mind’s go to response to everything lately? Why can’t I do anything without that being my response? (Commentary from future me: This isn’t the clearest or most well-phrased question, but I was partly trying to figure out what the actual fuck was going on and so I let myself go long.) Wheel of Fortune Ten of Wands (Oppression), Knight of Disks, Eight of Wands (Swiftness) Four of cups. (My intent was to pull only three cards, but I knew immediately I needed to add two more. How did that know that? Intuition, I guess; I could just feel it.) While I wasn’t expecting to add the Wheel and Four of Cups, I’m compelled to start in that central column. The Ten of Wands suggests a supreme level of burnout, probably due to the very uncertainty of, well, everything — and the fact that you’re in an emotional rut. (I didn’t see myself that way, I didn’t feel like I was in a rut—but I realized there was a rut when I wrote that. We can’t assume we’re wrong, even when we say something in a self reading that doesn’t immediately click.) And somehow the sustained nature of that rut is fueling the burnout. Somehow you’re willingness to stay burned out, to luxuriate (4 of cups is luxury) in that is actually sustaining it. (Here we get an early sense of how direct I am with me in ways I’m not with clients. You can see me “blaming” the querent here already. Again, I needed to be really direct with myself to cut through the fog. There will be more of this.) The problem becomes the total lack of specificity that the Wheel offers. The wheel won’t turn. It’s stuck in the mud of the 4 of cups, and your energy is spent trying to shift into a gear that will get you out. But you’re simply stuck and the more energy you put into attempting to unstuck yourself, the more energy you’re wasting. You cannot get out of this rut that way. It’s a self-sustaining rut forged by the very attempts to transcend it. And because the Wheel loves to be so fucking vague, it doesn’t even want to tell you the answer to this question—it doesn’t want to give you a why. It’s attitude is just, “it’s your turn, loser.” (I don’t think I’m a loser, but because of the states I’ve found myself prone to lately, I went there. This is not evidence of directness; it’s evidence of how I was feeling about myself at the time. Again, I promise I fine!) The Knight of Disks as your significator stares up toward the Wheel at the same time as he’s being blocked by the Ten of Wands. (He rules the third decan of Leo, which is where my birthday falls.) He, despite all his worldliness, can’t proceed. He, despite his understanding of how things work, cannot solve this problem. And it may be because earthly answers don’t fit, here. And he can’t understand that. He’s supposed to be the smartest dude in the deck; he’s the most grown, the most mature, and nothing he does makes the Wheel make sense because it doesn’t care about him. The Wheel doesn’t care about anyone or anything; it simply turns and when it lands on you, you’re fucked. Or you’re lucky. But most of us rarely get lucky, these days; that’s for people of wealth and privilege. At least the kind of luck we’re talking about, the kind where we’re not at the mercy of the fates. The kind of luck where we’re get to dictate to fate. That’s not for you. You cannot change the course of things and you cannot “pass” on your turn. You’re in a rut and you’re staying there until the wheel decides to turn again. It’s worth noting Crowley said that usually when we see this card, the person is on the upswing—people generally don’t get readings when things are fine. So by nature of the wheel turning, you are likely to see some improvement at some point soon—but we know that there’s no believing that until its seen. (Maybe the one “nice” thing Crowley ever said?) Some people are good at that, but not you and not the Knight of Disks. The Knight of Disks tries to make things make sense by the logic of the earth. The Wheel doesn’t give a flying fuck about that. This can’t make sense to you because there is no way to understand this in a banal fashion. And nothing in the reading is interested in giving you a non-banal answer, either, other than that “it’s you’re fucking turn, loser.” (Again, just a little self-flagellation. Kinky. Here’s the sitch: I actually don’t think of myself as very “disky” or “pentaclesy” at all. That said, I am in many ways—particularly as I get older. And I also tend to swing wildly back and forth between there must be a logical solution or reason for this that makes sense! and there must be some spiritual reason for this that means I’ve angered the gods or been thrown at by some asshole. So I swing back and forth, really, between air and earth. It’s also worth pointing out to me [thank you, me] that I wrote a book called Tarot on Earth which was all about the down-to-earth vibe I use in most readings . . . so, this is evidence that while we may not think of ourselves in a certain way, that doesn’t mean we’re not that way. This is one thing that makes reading for ourselves so difficult. And it’s one reason why, though it might seem somewhat unhinged, I do need to be fairly blunt with myself. I can’t negotiate my way out of the message—and for me that sometimes means I have to be harsher than I maybe “should” be.) “Well,” you think, “It’s been my turn my whole life.” (OK, yes; I do sometimes feel that way.) No one said the wheel turns more than once in a lifetime. (Ouch. But true. Of course it does. We are not one turn of the wheel, we are many. But also, for many of us . . . we don’t get to travel that far from the life we were born into. This despite the messages that the pop culture machine gives us about being anything we want to be.) Maybe you’re stuck because that’s the turn you’re taking this life: the stuck turn. And no matter how much you try to get out of it, you can’t, because in this existence, you’re simply stuck. (God, I hope not. 🤣) Maybe you should luxuriate in being immobile, in being emotionally and spiritually stunted. Maybe it lets you off the hook. Why bother trying if trying is the thing that gets you burned out? Makes sense, right? If effort is the thing that is burning you out, stop making the effort. (If you’ve been following this blog, you’ll potentially recall how many times in recent weeks the message has had to do with allowing fallow times to flourish. It’s entirely possible I was talking to me that whole time.) We have a final card we’ve yet to deal with: The Eight of Wands/Swiftness. I mean, this could suggest there is a turn of the wheel coming soon — but I know you don’t remotely believe that, and it’s also not really what the card is usually talking about. (He’s right. I don’t believe that. Although a few things since I did this reading, including this reading, have made me think that in fact I am due for a turn soon.) Most editions of this card show forward motion, direction, and arrow on the way to hitting its target. Not this one. This one shows energy going in all directions. It shows a total lack of focus. (I hate this version of this card.) Even commentators on this card aren’t really sure what they’re looking at. People say that we’re seeing pyramids from above, we’re seeing some kind of crystal, even planes of existence. It’s really just a ton of energy being misdirected, unfocused, which—let’s be honest—is exactly how you do everything. (I’m hyper aware of my ADHD since my diagnoses—but I do tend to operate this way and it is often what triggers my self-loathing, because in so doing I fuck things up that could easily not have been fuckupable . . . and that’s the core of what’s been happening. It’s not like I’m failing in any especial way. Actually, in many ways it’s been quite a good time. Sure, I sometimes [often] feel like I’m constantly trying to sit at the “cool kids” table in whatever worlds I operate in, and that I’m constantly being denied the chance to . . . but that’s also a trauma response and it’s not what’s really been causing my moods—not alone, anyway. Weirdly, it’s been dumb shit like dropping my keys or spilling a glass or fucking up a recipe. And that’s why I knew I needed to go deep with this reading; it’s not normal to hate yourself for breaking a mug or tripping on your slippers.) In many ways, it resembles the Wheel, except that in this Wheel, the energy seems way more unified. The Eight of Wands’ energy is anything but. It’s going everywhere in really jagged ways. I guess this suggests that if it weren’t self-loathing that you keep triggering, it would be something else—whatever the energy seems to hook on first. But that’s more of a guess based on the card’s imagery. (I think many of my fellow ADHDers will recognize this . . .) Eights are associated with labor and there’s an energetic output here that is likely another reason you’re so self-loathing. Whatever energy you do have is being pulled that way. Why? Cuz it’s your turn, loser. (I mean, look: sure that sounds mean . . . and again this is why I’m NEVER that blunt with clients. In this case, it was really just good writing . . . like, I can’t turn that part off of me. It’s a structural and thematic callback. I know I’m not a loser. On the other hand, I also recognize that we do have “turns” in life where things, including our perceptions, aren’t peak. Stealing from Truman Capote, I call it “the mean reds.” It happens. What’s really dangerous is when we don’t recognize we’re there. Happily, I usually do.) Fire is the dominant suit, which also suggests rage. (I mean, uh-huh. That part. Also: I’ve never read wands that way, but Jesus Fuck if it doesn’t make sense!!!) There’s a lot of rage (ten—the most you can have). You’re deeply angry. Furious. (“Deeply Furious” was a song in Spider-Man: Turn Off the Dark, the bizarrely-generated Broadway musical. Just thought you should know. The book writer of that show write a memoir called Song of Spider-Man, and I think it’s a good one if you like that kind of thing.) At oppression and the idea of being oppressed, if we’re looking at the keywords on the card, but you also (because you’re signified by a Knight/Knight) under the assumption that you matter. (Again, I know I matter. You’ll see me harp on this “not special” thing a few times, herein. What I mean, and again why I wouldn’t talk this way to a client, is “you aren’t more important than anyone else—even though deep down you kinda think you should be.”) The Wheel reminds us we do not. (That is true.) The Knight is like “wait this isn’t fair!” and the Wheel says “tough titty.” (Also true.) Because knights are awfully entitled (literally) they think they’re special and when their way is blocked, they try to fight through it because they’re entitled to pass. (The Princes/Knights and Kings/Knights are the cards to whom I typically assign “privilege” to. Here, I’m talking about my own privilege despite my mental health journey.) “Nope,” says the Wheel, “you are unimportant to me. You do not matter. You shall not pass. You are not special.” Something life has always been uniquely good at pointing out to you. (This is me wallowing in self pity quite beautifully. Still, how many of us feel this way, despite our privileges? I do! I often marvel at how some people succeed at life so easily, where I am frequently having to work much harder to get much less “success.” Shrug. I’m sure there are people who look at me and think, “He seems to get things so easily where I have to struggle so much to get much less.” This is why comparing ourselves is shite. And yet: we do it.) And it’s that rage, in many ways, that we’re talking about. It’s partly loathing the self, but it’s also partly—maybe even moreso—your entitlement, to thinking you deserve or will inevitably reach some further apex. You think you’re entitled to things that life doesn’t think you’re entitled to. You think progress is inevitable. Having become the pinnacle of the deck, the final card in the deck, you’ve probably gone as far as you can go. (I know I haven’t. Keep reading.) Alexander wept for there were no more worlds to conquer. You’ve gone as far as you can go—as far as the Knight of Pentacles can go. (This is key. The Knight of Disks/King of Pentacles isn’t who I’m becoming, it’s who I am. This isn’t where I’m going, it’s where I’m coming from. What is the point of divination if not to elevate? And this is why I have a love-hate relationship with significators: they can become limiting if we think of them as the end goal, not the starting point. We are all the courts. We are all the cards in the deck. The Knight of Disks will always be my root, my core, not unlike my sun/moon/rising sign—but the aim isn’t to stay the same as I was when I was born; it’s to grow.) I suppose if you go back to the beginning of the deck, The Fool, things might change—but you’re not really that type, are you? See, the problem with reaching the Knight’s status is that we want to keep it and expand it. But that’s not how life works. It ain’t fair, but them’s the breaks. And again the more you try to fight it, the more you try to move out of the tracks laid out for you, the more burned out you get. (Here we [I] hit on a core thing to my personality: I cannot allow myself to feel foolish! I am in a rut, and in retrospect it’s in part because of my refusal to let go of the need to be perceived as an “expert” or as “cool” and “worthy.” But what I know from experience is that this denies me real growth opportunities, because I never allow myself to get messy and play—the way I demand of students who read my books/take my workshops. And you’ll see, this comes full circle at the end.) To expand, I’ve drawn a card and placed it behind the Knight to answer what the source of this entitlement is, why you think you deserve more than life wants to give you. (Here is where things get crazy! I’ve gone and done it! I’ve drawn more cards—many more cards—to this spread. WHAT IS HE THINKING? Well, in this case, I drew additional cards to explore a bit about how I/Knight of Disks got the way we are. Warning, I do get a little mean again . . . I promise it’s mostly snark! Again, this is why I don’t share this shit more often! But if you’re curious, I have great support systems!) This is the Prince of Swords. The Prince of Swords is kind of the arrogant prick of the deck, thinking he’s the smartest guy in the room and not knowing he’s got a lot to learn. (OK, here me out: I know that sounds majorly judgmental. He is, in that it’s within his realm to behave that way. If there is a court card likely to exhibit arrogance, it’s this guy or his boyfriend over in the suit of wands. Because he’s so smart, he’s more prone to do it than wands. Am I an arrogant prick? In some ways. I’m a know-it-all, and if you’ve seen my videos you know I know it. On the other hand, I have self awareness that points out when I’m being an arrogant prick. Does that mean I shut it down? No. Look at my social media posts. But I do manage to temper it sometimes.) There’s an innate smugness to him that makes him kind of embarrassing to watch. He’s fumbling in the dark, trying to demonstrate how much he knows, when he actually doesn’t know much of anything yet because he’s spent too much time trying to show what he knows. It’s like the phrase, “there’s no expert like a novice.” (This is good context for the card, although I do admit I was being mean to me here.) The Prince of Swords embodies that. And he will fight anyone who challenges that perception of himself, which also stops him from getting much in the way of growth—because he can’t take feedback. (This is the ego. One reason you hear me talking about ego a lot in these posts—and there’s a whole chapter on it in the new book!—is because I struggle with it. And here’s a thing I know to be true: the negative self talk-slash-self loathing is ego. It is. It seems like the opposite of it, but when I—or anyone—sinks into that mode, it’s usually because we’re desperate for someone to prove the things we’re saying about ourselves aren’t true. That’s really it, friends. Problem is, when we internalize it as I had been [and I’m sure will again], we don’t have anyone out there to counter it for us. That’s one problem. But another, equally difficult issue, is when we vocalize it . . . when we put it into the world . . . we’re also putting those we love in the position of having to manage that. And while some of that is an inevitability of being a human in relationship to other humans, some of us can make it our loved ones’ jobs to validate us—and that is absolutely going to build resentment. Again, this is one reason why divination can be so valuable—it can help remind us of things like this. It’s also a reason why a good mental health practitioner is valuable in addition to divination. I have had many years of therapy!) Like all of the “men” of the court, he’s far too entitled for his own good. And, worse, because he thinks he’s so smart, he doesn’t even think he’s entitled. He’ll tell you he’s the least entitled motherfucker in the room—when, in fact, he’s really the dumbest one because he doesn’t listen and can’t take notes. (This sounds mean, but I’m really just working through some anger here. One thing I know about me: I am not a moron, I do listen, and I absolutely grow and learn!) “That’s not who I am,” you say. (Right? And I so did!) Maybe, but it was once—and that’s why you’re feeling this way. (This is the kind of intel you only get when you’re reading for yourself or some super close to you. Yes, I was once incapable of taking feedback, of learning, of growing. It’s one reason I still have a hard time relaxing and making a mess. It was insecurity and the knowledge that deep down, what I was doing wasn’t good enough—but I didn’t know how to fix it. Over time I managed to evolve from that. Weirdly, I forced myself into educational situations where I was constantly facing critique—creative writing—and I learned to figure out what feedback was good, what wasn’t, what was about me, and what was about the ego of the giver. I find that when most people avoid feedback or critique, it’s because they know they need to work on something but they have no idea what to do about it.) Because, deep down, you’re still an arrogant prick who thinks he knows more than anyone else. (OK, again, mean. I do have moments of superiority complex. Let’s be honest. Which is a bizarre thing about being human. How can you be in the middle of hating yourself while also thinking you’re smarter than everyone? It’s madness! Rest assured: I’m not really an arrogant prick deep down and I know I’m not smarter than everyone. But it does call out an ego tendency I have that I’ll spend my life being careful of. It’s the other side of the insecurity coin. Remember, both are ago.) And it’s that arrogance that makes you unhappy, because it makes you think that you deserve to be respected and celebrated, when in reality it means that most of what you do is an attempt to make people tell you how awesome you are—and you won’t believe them, because you think everyone is an idiot compared to you. (This requires unpacking 🤣: Again, I do not think I’m smarter than everyone. I do not think any of my peers [you] are idiots! And I adore everyone who engages with my content. You know why? Because when someone takes the chance to comment on something I’ve made, they’re taking a risk. Putting themselves out there. It’s vulnerable. “Who the hell am I to compliment this person who’s work I like?” Especially in a world where people, including me, can sometimes be such assholes to people online. [I have been a dick to people; I’ll admit it. Sometimes they deserved it, sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes I wasn’t being a dick and was perceived as one anyway!] I feel that way and I actually don’t comment much for that exact reason!! So people: please know that when you engage with my work, you literally make me beam with happiness! That’s not hyperbole. And I see the vulnerability of doing that. So, bravo! But . . . again, when the ego is flaring, when Leo is roaring, the “you’re a fucking genius” gene kicks in . . . and because arrogance and insecurity are two sides of the same coin, we can experience a feeling of worthlessness . . . while simultaneously feeling superior? Like . . . what is the brain??? But I beg you to understand, I do not think of anyone as less than me! And I value, deeply value, the positive feedback I get from folx who watch my videos and read this blog. As I’ve said before and probably will say again, this is why I never share this stuff publicly. But I did find within it some learning opportunities . . . . part of me still wonders if this is just navel-gazing. And, hey: Maybe it is. Dialectics, baby!) Pulling another card behind him, we get the Knight of Cups. You used to be an emotionally intelligent king, sort of a bad-ass of empathy. What happened? The Prince of Swords. You got arrogant. You think you’re better than you are (see above), which is why you think you deserve more than you do (see above). Taking it back even further, the Ten of Swords—your smashed perceptions, your ruined idea of your own wisdom—is to blame. (REDACTED STUFF HERE 🤣) All of these “men” are entitled (given titles), which makes them think they deserve what they do not. All of these court cards are reminders that, again, you are not as lofty as you think you are and you are not entitled to anything life doesn’t want to give you. (MORE REDACTED SHIT . . . I WAS MEAN TO ME HERE AND I FORGIVE MYSELF FOR IT. To sum up a bit, because it becomes relevant below, I talked about how I let my abusers turn me into a jerk. See, when I finally broke free from being the bullied, I turned into a bit of a bully. I had a lot of hate in my heart after years of being emotionally assaulted by classmates [and ignored by teachers] and when I made the turn, it was through humor. I was funny! Mean funny. Insult comic mean. And it made people laugh. But I was being a jerk. I had become what I hated. And it took a while to learn to be funny without being cruel . . . something most cis male comedians could stand to explore. Fuckers.) You could have interrupted this pattern if you’d gotten curious about your empathy, about your spirituality, but you didn’t; you had to be an “expert” and now you “are” and look where it’s got you. Stuck. (This isn’t true; I actually did get curious. But there’s a point in here that is true, which is that I do get hung up on how people perceive me—even though I say I don’t care. Like . . . I don’t think I’m an expert AT ALL—but I also get off on people thinking I am? Which is . . . you guessed it . . . EGO!) I’ve now drawn two more cards, this to explore where/how/when the wheel turns next. (Here we’re switching from the Knight of Penties up to the Wheel . . . and I quite like this idea, me! If the Wheel sits in an awkward, solo position like this, draw some cards to see what it’s turning toward. Again, draw all the cards! Why not? Just do so with intention, so that they’re answering a need; not just sort of dangling there like . . . I don’t know . . . earrings.)We get the Prince of Cups and the Six of Wands. We may draw more, but for the time being we’re going to start here. We already recognize the arrogance of princes—something that, in fact, the Knights/Kings typically lack. Only because they’ve outgrown it. The Prince of Cups, charmer that he is, is in many ways both the most and least arrogant of the princes. He’s so unassuming and open, so expectant of adoration, that he often gets it--temporarily. So, you may actually find yourself coming into a version of self-love that feels like a win (Six of Wands). You may find a flood of fairly leonine self-regard (we’re in the Jupiter/Leo decan here—so there’s kind of an expansive fiery self-regard. Jupiter is the “big guy”—big everything. So your ego will likely experience a major swell as the wheel turns. If we consider the timing of the Jupiter/Leo decan, you won’t see this until this early August of next year. Yup. Far away. The wheel turns when it wants to. On the other hand, the Prince of Cups represents the last decan of Libra and first two of Scorpio, so it could suggest that you will feel this coming up in the next few days/weeks and through early next August. But, of course, the main thing here is the temporary nature of this. You will be high on the hog but the wheel will turn again and in part it’s because the Prince allows flattery and attention and love to make him feel like he’s succeeded. He hasn’t. He’s just succeeded in getting his ego stroked. (So . . . this is probably me being fatalistic . . . ya know. In the throes of the mean reds, this is an inability to accept that things can improve. I wanted to wallow, so I did. It’s not cute in print, but there is benefit to wallowing--sometimes. The other thing, too, and why I didn’t redact this part is . . . when you’re reading for yourself, especially if you’re writing the reading out as I do, you do have to kind of explore and test your own margins. If only to come back later and say, “OK, no, Little Orphan Tommy, the sun will actually come out tomorrow. Unclench.” Again, I wouldn’t normally share this—but there’s nothing “wrong” with it, provided we can see later (often during) that it’s not quite true. And I knew as I was writing this that I was being self-defeating and pouty and sulky and I wanted bad news to prove how fucked up am, because I wanted to be in my own little Greek Tragedy. Believe it or not when I’m moving from self-hate into Greek Tragedy mode that’s a good sign . . . I’ve started imagining myself in closeup with a single tear strolling down my alabaster cheek—and the audience cumming in awe. Ego. Diva. Leo. Return to the self. Again. What is being human?) Drawing an additional card, the Seven of Wands (Mars decan of Leo) puts you in a position of self-defense (valour) after that, and of asking yourself where and how you want your ego validated and when and where your energy is is best valued. At that time, you’re likely to find a sustained sense of yourself. I’ve just drawn and added the Four of Wands and the Star. You find your direction in a way here that will probably sustain your fire for a more prolonged period of time. (Ooo! I added two more cards here, just like that, with very little ceremony! Eeeeee someone tell the OTO!!!! No, don’t! Eeek! Scary! Um. What was I saying? Oh: listen—more cards: why not? I wanted more context and I got more context and you can see me cheating, here . . . I knew the cards were saying, “Look, it’s gonna be OK, you’re gonna come out of this cloud.” But I didn’t want that because I wanted to be a fucking diva. And so I gave them short shrift. I think I return to them later. Let’s find out together!) The next question is, how can that be sustained to your best good—so that the praise the Prince of Cups gets doesn’t lead you to another downward spiral when that fades. To answer that, I’ve drawn the Hanged Man, the Seven of Swords, and the Aeon. (Here I’m actually doing a whole new reading within this one. I’m asking a new question [how to sustain this for my best good] and drawing three unrelated cards to answer this. I absolutely shuffled the unused pack and set the intention to answer this before I drew these new cards. It’s a new reading, but it’s still in dialogue with the one we’re doing—and again this is totally fine, because I’ve started thinking of reading for myself as having a dialogue with the guides or divinity or whatever makes this crazy ol’ system work so wonderfully. I have a question, I slap down a card: “Tell me more about that, stud!” “You got it, Tommy.” And I get more info. And I mean I know that’s not how many of us read, but, like, could anything be more natural? And in the energetic flow of reading, something has to be cooking between us and the liminal, so why not take advantage of it? The problem becomes when we start slapping down cards and 1) don’t have an intention behind them or a question we’re trying to clarify/answer; and/or, 2) we don’t immediately recognize the connection between these two cards and the intent, and so we give up on ourselves and the entire reading. If you’re going to do this, you have to be tenacious, bitch! You’ve got it in you!) This is an interesting combo suggesting a prolonged period of deep-diving into this new version of you. It’ll be a new era. And you’re likely to have a bit of a breakthrough in terms of your perceptions at that point. Now. I feel compelled to say, in an unusually generous moment, that you needn’t have to wait a year to do that kind of reflection. (WHAAAT??? IS HE BEING NICE TO HIMSELF??? IS HE RECOGNIZING THINGS MIGHT ACTUALLY GET BETTER OR AT LEAST THE CLOUDS MAY PART??? Yes. Fucker. And this is an opportunity to comment on my use of this deck . . . what am I doing still using this DECK? Reader, it works like a dream. I do not know why. I read better for myself with this deck than literally any other in my collection. Whatever. I’m going with it.) And while only one of these cards has an astrological timing associated with it, it is connecting to your rising sign (Aquarius) (we’ve had several cards connected to your sun; this is the first of your rising—the Four of Cups, Moon’s decan of Cancer, also reflects your Moon sign—which suggests, to a certain degree, a love for wallowing [luxuriating in] emotional ruts—you feel safe there, so this is potentially a habitual thing you do because you’re familiar with it—and be honest, have you ever really operated from anything other than self-loathing?) (I mean, look: I read The Velvet Rage [outdated but valuable . . . probably only to cis gay men, but a lot of cis gay men really need to face our issues] this year and . . . yeah. It’s a thing. But don’t cry for me, Argentina. I’ve got the skills to heal.) You may feel the seeds of this—or even something more than that (sevens are greater than seeds, of course; so I’m hedging my bets a little) around mid-February. Or, if not that, your tendency to do that kind of exploration will ignite around then. Sevens, of course, look within—mentality, in this case, is key to that and you’ll have the sense of stillness (Hanged Man) to really explore this new era. Makes sense. That time of winter, after the fuckery of xmas and new year, is a static time typically—and one you know you tend to feel fairly bleak during. But you may not experience that this time; you may find yourself really coming into your new Aeon. Whatever the fuck that means. (Also, hi: Look at me using astrological correspondences like a champ! Go me! Even though I think most of them don’t make sense, know what? They can help in a reading. Fuck it. I was wrong. Fine. I can say it . . . Usually on repeat until I don’t like myself anymore. KIDDING! Kidding. I’ll be here all week, tip your servers.) I’m going to clear the deck, so to speak, and put all the cards we’ve drawn back into the pack--except for the five we began with. I want to come back to that central card, that Ten of Wands. (This was a fun exercise because I took all but the original five—and in the picture you’ll see how many cards I had out—and put them back in the deck. In this case, I wanted to see if we’d get any repeats!)
I want to understand that one better, because—while I’m not necessarily wrong about anything I wrote above, I also haven’t given you much kindness. (Thank you, me! See? I softened up a bit, here. I decided, “Give the boy a break, you dumb bitch!” [Kidding, again. That was my best Liz Lemon.] But this highlights why I’m sharing this . . . sometimes we have to go through the dark to get to the light. Sometimes we have to vent all the garbage so that we can find what’s recyclable; we have to let the compost decompose before it can be useful. This isn’t bad. It’s only when we let these things fester and eat at us and never deal with them that we’re in trouble. Know what I mean?) Well. The reading hasn’t. (Right. The Reading. Pas moi.) I had to stop myself several times throughout and ask myself to what degree my own bias was impacting the cards. I’m not saying I didn’t find evidence for what I wrote, but I am admitting that I’m not maybe the best person to find more uplifting evidence in this reading at this time. Given the subject happens to be, well . . . me. (Gurl, right??? Woof.) I’ve put the other four cards aside, though not back into the pack. I don’t want to see any of those showing up again right now. (The four cards surrounding the ten.) I also want to pause and note that while I’ve been writing this reading, I kept getting a sense memory of my twenties—something that came from a scent I couldn’t quite place that kept arriving in my nose. And I did burn some incense earlier, but that’s not the smell. And I can’t place what it was now because I wasn’t fully aware of it at the time. I wish I’d paused and done so, but maybe I’ll get it again as I keep working. Who knows? It’s also entirely possible the incense in the other room is the scent and somehow something in it was triggering a memory. I’m not sure. (This happens to me a lot, but I was never able to place it. That also happens a lot. I’ve noticed that my sense-memory gets stronger the older I get.) (A note from FUTURE future me: I did remember. Cigarettes. 🤣) Anyhoo—I’ve drawn the Three of Cups (Abundance), the Ten of Swords (Ruin) and the Two of Swords (Peace) to explore how, if at all, the Ten of Wands and its impenetrable wall can be blasted to bits. The Three of Cups (center) is Mercury’s decan of Cancer. Here, your beloved pal Mercury is in your moon sign. (He’s talking to me. I love Mercury. The god, not . . . not the poisonous metal.) And while I’m immensely turned off by words like abundance and gratitude, (BIG TIME) which sound like bullshit platitudes (especially now), there is something about Mercury’s playful and irreverent relationship to . . . everything that is interesting to me, here, and the sense of experiencing that playfulness as an emotional reality. Play isn’t necessarily a word associated with Mercury, but how could it not be so? He’s a trickster; in this deck, he’s the Magician; he’s also a writer and messenger (as such, he’s a tarot reader or diviner—just fyi), and there’s a possibility that the lack of abundance of his energy in your life is one reason why you’re prone to more dramatic tendencies right now—you have no sense of play left. At all. (And I realized that the whole reading was pointing to this lesson, this message. Was that the answer I started out looking for? Not if you look at the question I asked. But recall that I began by saying my question wasn’t that well-worded and, in fact, I was really trying to figure out what I needed to know . . . because I knew [and know] why i downward spiral that way. I already told you: it’s a trauma response. So even though my questions was “why” what I really wanted to know was “how”—as in, “how to get out of this funk?” Did it take me a long time to get there? Yes. But just like a dialogue, we had to go the long way round to figure out what we were really trying to say. And this is the great benefit of reading this way. Rather than limiting ourselves to one question and one locked set of cards, we instead engage in dialogue with divinity, with the cards, however you want to think about it. It’s a dance, but when we’re reading for ourselves the dance needs to be more circuitous. I guess. Point is: I never would have landed here with the question I asked and the cards I drew . . . but it’s what I needed to know. And by thinking like a detective or an excavator, I kept digging and trying new things—gathering more context—until I landed on the answer I finally realized I needed.) Nothing is fun to you anymore. (This, alas, is quite true—and something I have to address. I feel it’s tacky to enjoy anything when the world is so fucked up. We’ll touch on more of this in a bit.) An abundance of fun, or at least a growing exploration of playfulness, may be something that can push through the dross of that ten. Threes being expansive suggest that both your emotional and spiritual wellbeing can benefit from adding play into it—like, by just fucking around and finding out, your emotions and spirit will expand with it. The card is flanked by another ten—the Ten of Swords—and another swords card, the Two of Swords. The Ten of Swords is styled “ruin” (yay!) and the argument can be made by that thinking so much about ruin, you’re ruining yourself. That sounds a lot like a privileged thing to say, though, and we both know you think that it’s not appropriate to experience any kind of joy while the world in burning. (Toldja.) We both know that deep down you think you’re a fucking martyr, and to return to the arrogance question we know that you have an arrogant attitude about that. (OK, this is mean, but . . . not untrue.) “Look how I know how painful everything is, look how I suffer for it!” I don’t mean to denigrate your reality that way, but it’s a performance. (Is it? This comes down to a philosophical question . . . can altruism ever be fully generous? Can any activation ever not have a performative aspect? I don’t know the answer to that. Do I feel good when people I respect like my points of view? Yes. Is that why I share them? No. I truly want to help perceptions shift.) (REDACTED . . . in summary: “your slacktivism is performative.”) OK, maybe that’s a little ungenerous of me—but come on. How much of your behavior is influenced by what you want people to think about you? And you’re ruining yourself doing it. Because you don’t have any play, you don’t have any peace. Have play, have peace. (This might make a little more sense had I left in more of what I took about above . . . but I am shockingly scared of fucking up or not knowing the “right” answers . . . mostly because I don’t want to hurt people! I know what the fuck it feels like to be erased, ignored, stepped on, and marginalized. But a little of it is that I don’t want it to damage people’s perceptions of me . . . the ones who I admire, anyway. And that’s, again, ego! And what this is really saying [I know because I wrote it] is that . . . you gotta let go and get messy sometimes. But even as I say that now, my mind goes “but what if people think you don’t care about their issue!” Complexities!) Now, that’s easier said than done, isn’t it? (Boy, is it.) (REDACTED BUT I CAN’T SUM IT UP BECAUSE FUCKING PAGES QUIT ON ME AND I LOST WHATEVER IT ISAID.) The Two of Swords reminds us two things can be true at the same time and you’re about to write about dialectics, anyway, so this is on brand for you. I mean, and I hate to say it this way, the lesson of this reading is in some ways you’re not that special. Instead of taking that to mean you don’t matter, take it to mean you’re not a fucking messiah, so why don’t you let yourself have a little fun every once in a fucking while. Know what I mean? You’re not letting yourself off the hook, you’re letting your battery recharge. Sorry if that’s not a cute look for social media, but it’s probably the only way out of this very rut you think you have to stay in because, to return to the Knight of Disks, you think you’re so “important.” That’s the saviorism that comes with arrogance. Y’aint Jesus, buddy, so quit tryina be a damn martyr. (This actually is part of what I deleted above . . . and it’s something I’ll spend the rest of my life, however long it may be, trying to figure out. How much joy is acceptable when everything is awful and your tax dollars are funding some of the main reasons why . . . ? At the moment I guess the answer is “enough to stop you from burning yourself out and hating yourself.” Which, I mean . . . , honestly still seems like too much to me. But several people have said to me in the last couple years, “you really need to have some fun.” I can’t remember how. To be honest, it’s never really been part of my nature—not since school, anyway. But that’s trauma for another day. What matters here is a point I made when doing the reading, wayyyyy back about 7,000 words ago: if the King/Knight of Penties is the last card in the deck, then the card that follows him has to be The Fool—and that, I think, is where healing lies in this case.) Or something. Who knows? (And here I negate myself, again. 🤣) Final thoughts: Listen, if you got this far—thank you. I hope that it did teach you something, at least something more interesting than the tales of my own descent into shitty self image (a term we used to use a lot in the nineties—it was the one time Catholics got to swear!). The lesson is: experiment; use more cards, but with intent; keep digging, keep excavating; reading for yourself isn’t like reading for others . . . it’s harder, and it requires more tenacity, more context, sometimes more ruthless self-appraisal, and often a lot of grace. Be Sherlock Holmes. Be Einstein, who once said that it wasn’t so much that he was smart; it’s that he sat with the problems longer. That’s the point, but I hope that this whole peek into my mind helped make it more memorable. A read of one’s own It would be morally reprehensible of me to do a demo reading of a spread after over 8,000 words! But I do have a spread for you to try. Start with the five card cross I used above. Use it to answer a question. Read it in pairs and trios, etc., but as it gives you information, pull additional cards to add more nuance to some of them. You don’t need to do all five. I didn’t. I pulled cards on three of them (the Knight, the Ten of Wands, and the Wheel—plus a fourth set, related but not part of the original draw). If you think of a side question, pose that to the remaining stack. Whatever you do, though, add the additional cards with intention—know why you’re drawing them and what they are to speak to. Then be tenacious about figuring it out. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself! Play! Experiment! Have fun!!! (I mean, that was the overall lesson for me, here, and it’s part of the lesson for you!)
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AboutEach post is a tarot reading about the tarot, a lesson about the cards from the cards. Each ends with a brand new spread you can use to explore the main concepts of the reading. Archives
February 2025
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