For years now, I’ve dreaded the question, “What do you do?”
Declaring oneself a writer is often met with a quizzical gaze (sometimes doubtful, other times the kind of face one might make if I said I trained possums for a living) and followed by an assortment of well-meaning but irritating follow-ups.
“Have you published?” is a frequent one, or the very direct “Do you earn a living from your writing?” Then there is my personal favorite: “Have I read anything you’ve written?” This is invariably delivered by a stranger whose reading appetite I know nothing about.
Lately, however, this question excites me.
If you had told me that one day I would describe my work as, “I am a writer and tarot reader” — and own it — I wouldn’t have believed you. I likely would have laughed. But here we are. I write words and I read cards. And this pivot has brought many unexpected gifts.
To that end, here are six things I’ve learned reading cards for strangers — which have little to do with tarot, and everything to do with life.
1. Make it yours.
I’ve been to a few tarot readers in my day, each with their own unique style.
There was one who pulled every card in the deck, proffering dozens of generic insights that, while accurate, felt more like a party trick than a useful exercise.
There was one who offered vague predictive statements, “A man will prove helpful in your next career move… your partner will have the first initial J…” none of which came to pass.
Then there was the one who was flat out wrong. About everything. (This was partially my own fault, since I pushed for definitive answers, which I now know the tarot is ill-equipped to provide.)
None of these bear any resemblance to how I read — a conversation about the symbols that show up, the questions they pose, and the key words to consider — sort of like a multi-layered Rorschach test with a storytelling element.
For a while, I thought I had no place in the tarot space because it didn’t fit some standard — the “standard” being akin to those old Psychic Friends Network infomercials — but now I see that only meant there was room for my approach.
The world is a crowded marketplace, with more noise than we can handle. It’s easy to get discouraged by the seemingly high number of Olympic qualifiers in the rat race. But sometimes, the value we bring to something is our own personal touch.
2. Leave room for surprises.
As I type this, there is an outfit laid out across the room — shirt, sports bra, tights, socks — every last item, down to the safety pins and anti-chafe balm that I’ll need for a race next week.
I tend to over-prepare.
Readings do not allow for this. Aside from years of studying the tarot, I go in with nothing. I never Google or do any research on the person I’m about to meet with. I pull the cards live, as we’re chatting, so there’s no way to prep what I’ll say or have any clue what direction it will take. Everything happens live.
At first, this was terrifying.
What if I draw a blank? What if I can’t discern the cards’ meanings? What if I FORGET HOW TO SPEAK?
But what inevitably happens is that new information, interpretations, and observations present themselves. I find a flow state. A dynamic unfolds. It might not sound smooth or perfect, but frankly, neither do the best conversations.
We aren’t handed a script for life, and there’s so much we cannot plan or even anticipate. Leaving room for surprises allows for spontaneity and openness — and sometimes, for magic to unfold.
3. Don’t be afraid to try something new — especially if it aligns with your truth.
Years ago, I posted a casual photo reading cards for friends on a Friday night — over pizza, I might add…is there anything more approachable and less occult-y? — and lost a slew of followers. That stuck with me. While I’m certainly not embarrassed by my love of tarot, I worried there was no interest or appetite for it. I also worried it might muddy the reputation as a writer and editor I’d worked so hard to create. (“You don’t see George Saunders offering readings…” I’d mumble to myself, as I crafted my earliest newsletters.) But I loved it, and I wanted to share it.
I’d like to tell you that I had a grand plan. Write about tarot, start offering readings, develop a course, build an empire. The truth is decidedly unsexy and even less strategic. I just…did stuff. One experimental step after another. And I keep doing stuff. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t, but that’s how I learn.
Making small shifts has been powerful. It’s allowed me to show up in a more authentic way — not only in my work, but in my life at large. And getting to share this with others has been the greatest gift.
4. Uncomfortable does not equal inauthentic.
I know my last point was “don’t be afraid to try something new.” And while I wholeheartedly stand behind this, I am a hypocrite for saying so, because there is plenty that I’m afraid to try. (Like live group readings and more videos, for starters.) But I am going to do them anyway, because if there’s anything the last couple years have taught me, it’s that the whole “growth lies on the other side of your comfort zone” thing is very, irritatingly true.
When it comes to things we’re apprehensive about doing, my friend Nicole recently shared this question someone asked her: “Is it uncomfortable, or is it inauthentic?” Genius. Now I find myself considering it in all kinds of scenarios, and more often than not, something I’ve written off as not for me is merely uncomfortable (and still worth doing).
5. Appearances can be deceiving.
Before I started reading for strangers, I worried how I’d spin it when certain notorious images made an appearance. Death. The Devil. The Ten of Swords.
I got into this whole card reading thing as a way of offering points for reflection and uncovering new possibilities. The last thing I’d want would be to frighten or discourage anyone. But with practice, the “bad” cards are now my favorites to discuss. I actually get excited when one shows up, because the questions they ask — and the reflections they inspire — are among the most resonant and potentially life-changing of the deck.
The same can be said of life.
We inevitably encounter setbacks, heartbreaks, and disappointments that may be unpleasant. But these same circumstances may inspire us to change direction, look for meaning, seek connection, make a shift. The “bad cards” have helped me view the uninvited with a sense of curiosity, and to consider things from multiple angles.
6. Everyone has stuff behind the curtain.
Most people come to a reading with a question or area to consider. Some share a lot, others hardly anything. (I welcome whatever they are comfortable telling.) And in the past few months, I’ve heard it all.
I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, as it always bears repeating. Every person you encounter has (hard/complicated/difficult) stuff going on. (Even when it doesn’t seem like it.) It is one thing to know it in theory, but quite another to witness it.
The tarot itself supports this — it’s a collection of 78 images depicting universal human experiences, dating back hundreds of years. The cards are a testament to the fact that people have encountered the same challenges and emotions — that people have been human — for centuries.
No matter what you may be grappling with, wondering about, worried over, trying to make happen… You are not weird. You are not alone.
We’re all looking to feel seen, and to feel validated. We’re all figuring it out. We’re all in a period of transition. We’re all finding our way.
I suppose it would be strange to write a whole post about tarot readings without offering an opportunity to book one. (Appointment link now expired.)
If you’re interested, I have a few appointments open during the last week of March. April sessions will post at the beginning of the month — as always, paid subscribers will be the first to know.
Card of the Week
Here is this week’s card for the collective, as well as some thoughts to carry into the days ahead. As most modern readers will tell you, the tarot is not about fortunetelling, nor is it about neat, definitive answers. The cards are simply one path to reflection, a way of better knowing ourselves and others through universal themes. If this reading resonates with you, great! And if not, no worries. Take whatever may be helpful and leave the rest.
…and speaking of scary cards, The Devil is chief among them.
Scenes depicting The Devil — whether the horned variety, or an evil entity, or a C-level executive as seen above — rarely spark joy. But as there are no “bad cards,” the so-called negative archetypes give us much to ponder. And this week’s message is surprisingly uplifting.
Rest assured this card does not foretell that a pitchfork-wielding monster will appear before you and offer up a Faustian bargain. The Devil this conjures is not a mythological entity, nor a monstrous demon surrounded by flames, but rather the very real forces at play in our lives.
This devil is one you are already acquainted with.
Negative self-talk.
Playing small.
Denying your truth.
Procrastination.
Succumbing to resistance.
Hustle culture.
Subscribing to someone else’s definition of success, value, or fulfillment.
The list goes on…
This card can speak to specific people or energies at play in our lives, but just as often it applies on a societal level. It’s the endless scroll, the seductive force of advertisements, the siren song of quick fixes, the relentless cycle of “self-improvement” that never reaches an end. It’s the tireless message that we must buy (or buy into) everything in sight, always for someone else’s profit. It’s the feeling of helplessness inspired by the scale of these cycles and how hard they can be to ignore, let alone change.
The message is to acknowledge these forces, examine our relationship to them, and consider what is healthiest — for us.
Though it presents an illustration of extremes, The Devil asks us to consider nuance, the middle place, the grey area that applies to much of life. Ironically, this is not a card about otherworldly demons, but about the inevitable challenges of being human.
Things aren’t inherently good or bad, virtuous or evil, right or wrong. Things are. We apply our judgments. We assign their value.
This week’s card encourages us to shine a light on anything in our lives we view as “good” or “bad,” and examine why this is so. Are we considering it from all angles? If we feel shame around something, it invites us to consider why this is so. Is this truly ours to carry, or was it handed to us by someone else?
The Devil asks that we align with our own sense of values and (re)claim our power. If we feel a sense of powerlessness around something — a person, a substance, a situation — it urges us to seek support.
All appearances to the contrary, the devil is actually a nurturing card — its energy more on par with a therapist, coach or sponsor than its monstrous reputation might suggest. It wants us to succeed, to thrive, to feel the full spectrum of what it means to be alive. It wants us to be free of constraints, to make the choices that are best for us. But first, we might have to draw some boundaries. First, we might have to break free.
This week’s message tell us that it’s okay to feel complicated things, deep things, difficult things. You are not the first (nor the last) person to think that, to want that, to feel this way.
Struggle doesn’t make us bad or weak or ineffective. It simply makes us human. And that is a beautiful thing to be.
Learning you read tarot actually made me like your writing even more (something I didn't think was possible)! I tend to use single-card tarot pulls as journaling prompts, and it was so refreshing and reassuring to see someone whose work I admire also using the tarot as a means of reflection rather than prediction. I'm still a rookie so I often use a reference text to check on cards I'm not as familiar with, and your old posts have made it into rotation for thinking and reflecting on the cards before I start writing. If you happened to write a tarot guide, I'd buy it in a heartbeat! :)
As I get older I realize that the question asked begets the answer given. I've never done tarot because I've feared some negative certainty. But I love the idea that they are all symbolic reflections of the germ inside. I've learned that my best conversations come when there are invitations to draw out wisdom that already exists. I also believe that our inner reality is reflected back in a co-creative experience with what's around us. So... maybe the cards that show up are what we draw forward, and only we can know why. Thank you for changing my mind on this :)