Two approaches to tarot — and why it’s tricky reading for yourself

Note: Part two of Juan Cole’s article was delayed by a technical glitch last night. It will publish tonight at 6:00 pm EDT. – amanda

Editor’s Note: If you want to experiment with tarot cards and don’t have any, we provide a free tarot spread generator using the Celtic Wings spread, which is based on the traditional Celtic Cross spread. This article tells you how to use the spread. You can visit Sarah’s website here. –efc

By Sarah Taylor

The Weekend Tarot Reading this past Sunday sparked two very interesting discussion threads in the comments section, which I’d like to expand on a little here.

The first concerns the purpose of a tarot reading: what is it there to achieve? The short answer to that is that it depends on the intention of the tarot reader and (if applicable) the client. There are as many reasons to do the reading as there are intentions, and it would be an impossible task to list each permutation. However, I’d like to focus on two of those approaches — the two that were raised in the comments section of this week’s reading — namely: a) working with tarot as a form of divination, and b) working with tarot as a therapeutic tool.

Tarot as divination

According to Princeton’s WordNet site, one of the definitions of divination — and the one I’m choosing to use here — is “a prediction uttered under divine inspiration”. The word “prediction” implies something that is future-based, and I would expand on this to include the present as well. In other words, it is the use of divine inspiration to look at possibilities, both present and future, that might otherwise remain hidden.

I think it’s a fair assumption to make that most people are more familiar with tarot as a divination tool than with any other kind of tarot work. Tarot as divination forms the basis of my own professional readings, and it is probably the most sought-after form of reading that there is.

There is something compelling about being given the opportunity to experience those landscapes — inner and outer — that evade our five senses. It can enlighten; it can give a sense of meaning; it can help us to feel that we are in control; it can be an escape from playing the central role in our own lives and from assuming responsibility for our decisions. All of these are reasons to seek out a tarot reader and I try not to judge any of them, knowing full-well that all of these motivations have been my own at some point in the past.

However, I’m not interested in discussing motive today as much as I am in process: what is happening when tarot is being used as a divinatory tool? What goes on with the tarot reader? An explanation that fits my experience more than anything else is the one that I referred to briefly in the comments section of this week’s reading, and which I first came across in the book On Becoming an Alchemist by Catherine MacCoun.

To use the writer’s analogy in the context of tarot (and if there are any deviations from her intended meaning, I offer my apologies in advance): when we divine, we are bringing meaning down from above. We ascend the vertical, commune with the wisdom that is there, and then we come back to the horizontal, translating that message into words. This is where the idea of “getting out of the way” really comes into its own. As divine interpreters, for want of a better phrase, it is our job to ensure that the message is delivered as closely to its source form as possible. When we do, we are able to give the client what it is that they were looking for: meaning, in whatever form it chooses to make itself known.

Tarot as therapeutic tool

But what happens when we descend the vertical? Because the axis goes both ways, intersecting the horizontal — i.e. our world — much like a cross. I am almost certain that Catherine MacCoun does not draw on the following analogy, so this is very much my take on what she writes. It is my belief that descending the vertical forms a large part of the second type of tarot reading that I’d like to discuss here: that of tarot as a therapeutic tool.

When tarot is used therapeutically, it mirrors the more traditional method of tarot reading in that it involves both a reader/counsellor/therapist and a client — but the similarity stops there. For in this instance it is not the reader who leads the discussion with their interpretation of the cards, but the client, who is free to place onto a card whatever interpretation they feel moved to make. The client dictates the tone and direction; the reader creates and maintains a safe place for them to be able to do so, and supports their process in whatever way they feel is suitable. One of the main reasons for using tarot in this way is to make the unconscious conscious, but in a space where the client is holding the cards, so to speak. By placing the power with the client, it means that what is ready to surface will surface. “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven,” (Ecclesiastes 3:1).

To me, this excavation of the unconscious forms part of what Catherine refers to as descending the vertical. Instead of going up as reader in divinatory tarot, we go down as client into the depths of our own psyche and offer up what we have found there through the card that we are working with.

There are different approaches within this discipline. Some tarot readers work with visualisation around a card, which can be very useful to help clients discover answers they didn’t realise they had within them, and which works on the upper echelons of the lower vertical. Other approaches involve more intensive, in-depth work, which in turn demands more specialised experience. Some therapists, for example, will use tarot cards as part of a therapy session. In this case, their training will match the depth to which the client descends — after all, someone has to know at all times where the client is so that they are well and truly back on the horizontal when the appointment is over.

The challenge of reading for yourself

This idea of knowing at all times where the client is leads us on to the second part of the article: reading for yourself. Ah, ’tis the proverbial banana skin for many a tarot reader, where we can find ourselves casting our eyes upwards and asking: how can so much experience count for so little?

Okay, perhaps I exaggerate. But to make a point. The more we are personally invested in a reading, the greater the likelihood that we will lose objectivity. In both of the reading types I describe above there are two people involved: the reader and the client. A good reader is able to detach from needing to have any particular experience or outcome during a reading — which means that the client benefits from information that holds personal truth and significance.

When you are doing a divinatory reading for yourself (in other words, a reading that requires a clear channel to be effective) you are both reader and client, and it is often hard to ascertain which hat you are wearing. The reason for this is that when we read for ourselves, our personal investment is often too high for us to be objective — or even to know when we’re not being objective. When we aren’t — when our stuff makes an appearance in the room — then we enter what Catherine MacCoun refers to in her book as “Baggage Disclaim”:

While attempting to employ levity, [people] … find themselves in a place that’s different from everyday waking consciousness and that exactly matches their conception of the spiritual world. They naturally assume that this must be their chosen destination. …

Recall that the entry point to the upper vertical is extremely narrow. You have to be skinny, spiritually speaking, to squeeze through. Your consciousness must narrow to a single point, leaving behind its hopes and fears, sympathies and antipathies, preconceptions and preoccupations. … You can’t take any of your inner baggage with you. …

Possessing baggage is not, in and of itself, an obstacle to upward movement. The problem is denial of baggage. If you know what you’ve got and how much of it you’ve got, you can check it at the gate. … But if you’re unaware of your baggage, you don’t think to check it.

The secret, then, is self-awareness: to be aware of what you know is your stuff, and to be prepared for and open to the discovery of more. And there will be more; there always is. What you’re aiming for is the ability to notice when you are being subjective, and to be aware of the possible repercussions.

These are some good questions to ask when you’re reading for yourself:

• “How invested am I in getting a particular response from the cards?”
• “How willing am I to see what’s there if it doesn’t match with my expectations? How willing am I to change direction and follow that lead through?”
• “Is there a feeling of ‘hooking in’ or a ‘pulling’ sensation when I meet with a specific card? Can I link it to a particular desire or resistance?”
• “What if I were doing this same reading but for someone else?”

There will be times when you do, indeed, ascend the vertical in your own readings. You might identify them by a sense of knowingness, the appearance of a wry smile at the corner of your mouth, a feeling that something has clicked into place. On the other hand, if you get a strong sense of need, fear, frustration or you feel a particular charge, then try to take a step back, look around, and see if you can spot that bag that’s getting under your feet. And when do you spot it, celebrate! Now you know what that particular bit of your stuff looks like. Next time, you’ll see it coming.