My Journey: Using Tarot to Connect with Others

 I’ve always struggled with confronting myself and admitting who I am to people. It’s been easier to slip into whatever role people need me to be than to really consider who I am and what behaviors I want to express myself with. When I became an adult and questions of identity were constantly at the forefront, I struggled. I didn’t seem to have the language or knowledge to navigate how challenging things felt, how complex my feelings were, and how directionless I was. I had spent my childhood just trying to not get on people’s nerves, and now I was supposed to “find and be my true self”? How?

 

It became tough to tell if I should or shouldn’t stay at a job, in a relationship, in school, doing a hobby. I felt guilty for not doing enough, and then I felt terrible for burning myself out on productivity. All the while, I could only express myself in passionate rants, scribbled journal entries, quiet sighs of exhaustion; I simply didn’t have the tools to fix the problems, only to cope.

 

Then, I stumbled upon tarot cards: a big box of them in my downstairs bookshelf.

 

I wasn’t sure what they were at first, but they were intricate and beautiful. I immediately went to my mom to ask about them, and she invited me to take them and use them. They were hers, bought long before I was born, but she hadn’t used them aside from once or twice. This gift sparked not only a new hobby but a spiritual and meditative practice that would help me to process grief, pain, joy, and abundance. Tarot connected me to my family in ways I was never able to previously, and it became my daily practice of gratitude.

 

You might wonder how cards could be so life-changing. Tarot is not just the shuffling of cards in a dark room; it is the philosophy of reading, the rich cultural history tied to it, and the emotional communication between the reader and the client. Tarot gives the setting and tools to have an open dialogue about subconscious feelings, uncomfortable impulses, and deeply intimate truths. It helps us to communicate about our emotions and relationships more clearly. This is essential because without open communication about these topics, we can subconsciously exhibit negative behaviors toward a person or situation.

 

I have an aunt. I didn’t really “get” this aunt, and quite frankly, I didn’t really like this aunt. She always seemed to be unfairly judging people around her, and she was a vocal critic with barbed words. I had never really connected with her, but she wanted me to do a reading for her, so I obliged. The reading was something I will never forget; it was the first time we seemed to really see each other—the first time I was able to see her as a bright young girl as opposed to a embittered older lady. I held her hands in mine, and we breathed together. We asked questions while I drew cards, and I observed her without thinking about the years of comments, biases, and assumptions. I just saw a vulnerable woman who desperately wanted to be loved, prioritized, and seen.

 

I remember only two cards I drew for her: the blue, skeletonized Queen of Hearts in the Santa Muerte tarot, arms outstretched and bearing her heart as the dark orbits of a skull stared forth and the reversed Empress, peeking from behind her fan atop her flower-covered throne. There are women who give their hearts to those who will use them for their weight in gold, and their wisdom grows from their pain—this was my aunt. She saw herself as a fallen woman, aged and battered; she did not see her generous heart overflowing while she focused on her face, her attractiveness to others, her fleeting youth. And yet, she was as vibrant as the cards she resonated with, family-oriented and passionate, hardworking and meticulous with aesthetics.

 

The two cards I recall pulling for my aunt: the Queen of Hearts and Empress in reverse. Photo credit: Saedy McCoy

I recall reading for my sister before her wedding, her nerves as she worried there could be one-too-many cards poking at insecurities. I remember us talking for hours, her relieved smile at the end of our session. I’ve even read for my dad, who, like my aunt, has always felt estranged from me. He listened intently to my reading, and at the end, awkwardly laughed and said, "Huh, you know me after all." Even with him, a person who never would believe in "all that voodoo crap" (his words, not mine), the cards brought his walls down enough that he could let me see his emotional side when he literally never had before. 

 

Tarot was not just a tool for me to discover myself; it was a way for me to converse with my loved ones about things that we normally avoided at all costs. How does it work? 

 

The core of tarot is asking questions. In fact, the structure of a reading is based upon the questions you plan to ask. Card placement is an important part of reading and interpreting the various cards you pull as a complete narrative. Within the practice, we call the formatting of a reading the “tarot card spread”, and there many types used based on the topic a person wishes to ask about. Some spreads have card placements with built in questions, while other templates are much more flexible. Regardless of the spread you use, you can modify questions to suit your language or the person you're engaging with. Some of the more common types of spreads are the Celtic Cross, the 3-card chronological spread, and the horseshoe spread among many others. 

An example would be if I were working on a project and want to reflect on where I should focus my efforts, I could use a 3-card spread to look at the past, present and future. The first card would ask, "What efforts have I put into this project thus far?" The second would ask, "What are the highest needs of this project right now?" The third, "Where should I focus my efforts in the future?" You could ask different questions for the same reading, though. For the third card, we could instead ask, "What are the biggest impacts of this project on my future goals?" We could adjust these questions or add more cards for clarification as needed. As you can see, the questions you ask really matter and guide the reading, and you can adjust your templates accordingly.

People don't realize how hard it is to talk about painful or sore subjects until they have to. Tarot helps make it easier by giving you the language to navigate certain difficult emotional experiences or complex perspectives, and it gives you the opportunity to ask questions you'd normally never get to. The mystique of tarot is really the magical feeling you get when you're understood for your authentic self. Think of the first time you met your best friend: that feeling of just clicking, recognizing that you've found someone who just gets you. That feeling is the "magic" tarot artists invite you to experience. It's a feeling I hope you get to experience more frequently as you learn more about tarot and potentially even begin practicing it for yourself. 

 

We’ll discuss the individual puzzle pieces of the tarot: the Minor and Major Arcana in future blogs (and get ready, it's a lot of information!). Today, I just wanted to show that this practice does not have to be reserved for private use only. You can use the principles and questions of this art to improve your relationships and ability to be vulnerable with others, too.