Reading the tarot is part of many a witch's magickal practice. It's one of a multitude of strategies we have in the area of divination, in our ongoing efforts to divine messages about things both seen and unseen. Many folks who petition mystics to read the cards for them believe that the takeaway involves capital "A" answers and specific predictions of the future that lies before them. As a witch and a reader myself, this is not exactly how I experience and interpret the tarot. I use it, instead, as a tool for taking care of myself and for deep self inquiry.
For me, the cards have so much more to offer me and the folks that I read for than what may be considered their "conventional" uses. I see the tarot as self care, as an essential tool for my recovery from trauma, as a guiding light through my shadow aspects. I see the art, the archetypes and the act of reading as a direct path into my consciousness, especially the darker parts that are harder for me to access and transmute without the illumination of the tarot. I use it as a shortcut into my shadow self, the visual language of the deck serving as the perfect icebreaker for my unconscious mind and I to have a much-needed chat.
I read the cards for the present moment, for what already is. Only by understanding the messages our brains are trying to communicate to us now can we truly understand our past and contemplate our future.
Over the years, certain tarot cards have become dear friends of mine, bolstering my recovery and deepening my understanding of elusive aspects of myself.
The Tower card has helped me embrace the growth and transformation that comes with the pain of the moments that make me feel like my world has been turned upside down, welcoming in the opportunity to build new foundations out of the emotional rubble. The Death card has given me permission many times in the past to cut off toxic family members. The Pentacles suit has helped me grapple with my relationship to money and my scarcity mindset. The King of Cups has encouraged me to be a better witch, and have stronger control over my mental state in order to create the conditions and changes I desire in my life. Each card has a valuable lesson of strength and resilience to share.
The Major Arcana suit, in and of itself, provides a near-perfect template to work with in term's of the fool's journey as it pertains to surviving trauma. This journey can be alternately framed as the The Survivor's Journey, with The Fool serving as our innocent child selves before the darkness of trauma descended upon us. Especially in the big moments of upheaval, such as The Tower card, the tarot can help us find significant lessons and give us directions toward the light at the end of the tunnel or, in the tarot's case, The Star.
Many of the Tarot archetypes have become allies in my journey, jumping off the cards to join me in my three-dimensional life, serving as wise teachers guiding me through my brain, my trauma, and introducing me to other aspects of myself that may be preventing me from growth. I'm looking at you, The Hanged One and Eight of Swords.
Like every other act of self care, staying consistent with taking the time to consult the cards can be a huge challenge for me because of my depression brain. It can take enormous effort for me to finally sit down with the cards, ground and center myself, and be fully present in the moment in order to read the deck's messages. This is why showing up to the tarot and reading for myself continues to be a challenge for me. I do it way less than I want to, and I sometimes beat myself up over it.
Doing a reading for myself always feels so rejuvenating and fulfilling, but it's also a psychic exercise that can exhaust my body and mind as I channel my spirit guides to help me interpret the cards in front of me. It's much easier for me to read for others, though, because poking and prodding at my own shadow tends to be more draining for me. It is much easier for me to continuously meditate on the medicine of the cards I pulled in the weeks following my last reading, so I can fully digest the message before turning to the tarot for further advice.
The act of sitting down and arriving to your tarot practice is a mindful and grounding act in and of itself. I'm proud of myself when I do show up to the deck. I'm delighted when I can sit and really give myself a big juicy reading, like a 12-card year ahead spread.
But I'm most proud of myself when I arrive to the tarot with the intention to shift a specific thing present in me at the moment, whether that be anxiety, fear, doubt or grief.
When I'm stuck in a spiral of negative thinking, reading for myself is one of the best ways for me to shift out of this state, instead reframing and refocusing my perception, as the cards help give me a structured action plan in how to deal with my thoughts. They give me a container in which I can really dive deep and be present with my feelings, using the card's images as a language to help me identify and verbalize the chaos currently wracking my brain.
Do you use the tarot cards in your self care routine? Are you interested in trying it out?
Here’s a self care tarot spread to get you started on your exploration into using the cards as an ally in your own recovery and mental health journey:
[Side note: As I mentioned above, reading for yourself can be hard and draining work. If you'd like a self care-related reading from me, send me a DM on Instagram, and I would be happy to oblige.]
Love,
Seb, The Sick Witch x
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