Tea Michelle - Modern tarot: connecting with your higher self through the wisdom of the cards

For the Witches who do not know they are Witches,

And for the ones who do.

Contents

Ive been reading tarot cards since I was fifteen years old, when Danny Frizi, a then-closeted gay boy who loved Axl Rose so much that he spent his extracurricular time listening to Sweet Child OMine on his headphones and weeping, gave me my first deck. He had an afterschool job at Barnes & Noble and swiped a Rider-Waite deck for me, a great starting deck, the classic tarot that most other decks riff on. I thought it was great that Danny gave it to me because Id heard a superstition that you werent supposed to buy your own tarot cards, they were meant to be gifts.

I treated my deck of cards as reverently as Id heard you ought to. I wrapped them in silk (I think it was silk, it might have been polyester) and tucked them under my pillow, thereby ruining many a night of sleep. I learned the deck by practicing on my witchy, Goth friends, teenagers who accompanied me to New England spell boutiques like Arsenic and Old Lace, where the walls were stacked with jars of herbs, and on pilgrimages to Salem, Massachusetts, to explore the many occult shops and bookstores. As I continued to read cards, and have my own read by my friends, I was in a growing state of awe at their intuitive accuracy, the way the small stories encapsulated in each illustration knit together into a wider narrative that made sense, sometimes poetic, sometimes chillingly pointed. I didnt know how the Tarot worked its magic, but I didnt feel the need to, either. There are many mysteries in the world, and I was thrilled to have a relationship with this one.

As I grew older and moved out into the wider world I became acquainted with the variety of tarot cards that are available. The Thoth Deck, designed by the drug-addled mystic Aleister Crowley, gave strong readings. So did Daughters of the Moon, a lesbian feminist deck, purple and circular with a single optional male card. The Secret Dakini Oracle came to me via a street reader in Tucson, Arizona, and its collaged imagery, both playful and nightmarish, is a cosmic riddle. When I made my way to San Francisco in my early twenties, my first job was reading tarot cards on Haight Street. Still sensitive to so many tarot-related superstitions, I didnt charge for my readings but solicited donations. I recall receiving a rock from a hippie (not a crystal, mind you, but a rock) and a single American Spirit from a street kid. I also got great advice about getting food stamps, which kept me fed as I tried to find my place so far from home.

Eventually I was plucked from the streets and into a Haight Street boutique called Love, which sold incense and essential oils and lovely candles I aspired to afford. I charged a fixed, modest price for my readings, and in the more professional environment I grew more focused and learned more about the craft. I recall one client, brooding and sulky, practically tossing her ten-dollar bill at me. I spread the cards across the floor, but oddly they made no sense. I could not connect their stories together into a larger, helpful narrative. Im sorry, I sputtered, returning the ten-dollar bill to the girl. I dont know whats going on, but I just cant make sense of this.

I knew this was bullshit, she replied, smiling for the first time, bitterly vindicated. She left me in the wake of her bad vibes, and something important was revealed to me: If the person receiving the reading doesnt actually believe in the Tarot, the Tarot doesnt work, like a fairy whose existence has to be affirmed for her to survive. Tarot readings are an exchange of trusting energy between the reader and the seeker, and if that faithful collaboration is missingin my experiencethe magic does not happen.

Further study into the Tarot, in particular the connection between the Tarot and the Kabbalah beefed up my skills so that I was able to give a decent reading with a deck of playing cards, or even a deck of Uno cards, substituting colors for suits and working my knowledge of the properties of each number. This might sound silly, but it increased my respect for the underlying numerical system of the Tarot, as well as the undeniable magic that occurs when two people come together to earnestly practice divination.

Due to space and time limitations my professional tarot practice has died down, but I still seek the wisdom of the cards regularly, and often use them to assist friends in need. It is also very hard for me to pass up a deck of tarot cards, which means in the thirty years Ive been practicing I have built up quite a collection. They live in my Sagittarian grandfathers old suitcase, stuck with now-vintage stickers from all the places he traveled to, so many decks I cant latch it closed. Buddhist decks and Greek mythology decks, pornographic Italian decks and UFO decks. Charlie Brown decks, cat decks, old fortune-telling decks and older French decks, queer decks, and voodoo decks. Each one is a beautiful world, familiar yet altered by the creators impressions and inspirations. After studying them for all these years it seemed time to put my own spin on them.

The Tarot is an ancient story system, a pack of cards that tell a multitude of tales depending on the ways in which theyre placed alongside one another. Pull the High Priestess, the Page of Coins, and the World, and it tells the story of an individual seeking a higher purpose through the material world, someone who is just beginning a path of knowledge but whose deep inspiration and devotion will take her very far. Lay the Eight of Cups next to the Tower next to the King of Coins and I see a person in mourning because they had to abandon somethinga person, place, or thingthat was close to their heart but very, very destructive. In the end they will be stronger and whole for making this difficult choice. The trick to being able to deduce this is to know the cards well and allow yourself to link their stories together andand this is really importanttrusting that you are reading the cards clearly. It could, if youre nervous, be pretty easy to look at that last spread of cards and then say, Oh, um, actually, it could also mean that walking away from this situation might bring the Tower down and ruin your life. Im not sure! Thanks for coming! Tarot speaks to our intuition, to our guts. More and more scientific research points to the right-on power of our guts to make quick, intuitive, and correct decisions (its not actually our intestines sending you these powerful hunches, but two bits of our brains, the ancient Amygdala and the tiny, hidden yet emotionally powerful Insula). I believe this is the part of our selves that we engage when we read cards. Often, when I am reading for another, I hunch my head over the cards and quickly link the stories, not checking in with the seeker or even looking at them. I dont want anything to distract me from my initial read! Going with my gut, I tell the story as I see it, and only when I reach the end do I check in with the seeker to see if anything I laid on them made a lick of sense. More often than not they are looking at me with a dazed expression, nodding their head as if in a trance. Sometimes, though, a certain claim doesnt make sense. When that happens I dig deeper into the meaning of the cards, feeling about for alternate reads or twists that feel correct to the seeker. Its important to note that I am not a psychic, you dont have to have psychic powers to read tarot, and that reading tarot will not give you