Tarot beyond the cards
I often reflect on our relationship with tarot, as being a reader has significantly influenced my life. These windows into human experience extend beyond the cards we first encountered.
I'm sure many of you can relate to this experience. When you come across an archetype in your daily life, whether visually through a book cover, a statue, or perhaps in song lyrics, you might perceive it in a colour palette as well. It’s fascinating to explore how these energies present beyond the cards and literature. I believe this process deepens our connection with tarot, allowing us to become attuned to its vibrations and interplay between individual and collective meanings. Over time, this develops into a reliable sense of intuition, which is why many readers have ways of reading without the cards. The opportunity to divine is everywhere; the cards are simply one beautifully structured medium for connecting with this profound language.
If you find it difficult to relate, I encourage you to explore beyond just the cards. As I often discuss associations and how to build a personalised tarot language, I see how much this approach has helped my practice. You needn't be a world-class artist, able-bodied or anything else to engage in this. The real magic lies in adapting the experience to meet our needs in the moment. Even if you're in the early stages of learning, you can still experiment with creative approaches if they interest you. Naturally, as we gain more knowledge, our experiences can become more frequent and expansive. But, I firmly believe that we can take the meaning of a single card from a book and seek to discover that meaning in the world around us. Or by expressing it through art, words, or colour choices.
After all, this is part of our instinct, expression, and natural behaviour. It isn’t meant to have rules about skill level or other requirements that prevent us from engaging.
For me, this is tarot joy!
So, here are some of mine from recent weeks.
The Hermit
Oil burner on, its flames dancing through the holes and across the room with a promise of guidance and hope in moments of solitude. Like a devotion, I can meditate on the light and the scent, present in a moment otherwise filled with chronic pain and turmoil. The desire to go within can become unhelpful if it leads to isolation without purpose. However, with this, I feel connected to myself and my surroundings. I am gently guided into reflection, with whispers gradually filling the silence.
There is softness in this retreat, something I don't always know how to invite myself into. This burner is just one of many objects that hold deeper significance than it may first appear. It serves as a focal point, a doorway into a space that many of us know intimately yet can struggle to access easily. This has become one of my anchors for this hermit year, both collectively and as my individual card. The process unfolding in this experience speaks more to me about this archetype than any book could. It is through living these moments that it truly makes sense.
Playlists
I love creating tarot playlists. If you're a music lover, I highly recommend giving it a try! Over the years, I’ve shared some on Patreon because I find it a fun way to explore the various nuances of a card's meaning. Since tarot meanings are so expansive, no single discussion can cover everything. That’s why I enjoy these more focused, personalised explorations—they allow me to delve into something more intimate. The beauty of this experience is that a song may resonate with several different cards, depending on my mood and the day. I might also have many songs that connect to just one card. It's worth noting that you might not resonate with the same choices, and that’s perfectly fine. Online communication can sometimes lead people to forget how uniquely personal a message can be, depending on the individual, the moment, and the context.
8 of Cups
Recently, the 8 of Cups has shown itself to be a recurring card in my life. This is no surprise to me, as its significance remains prominent during transitional shifts. I've been actively seeking it out in different contexts, curious about how it will reveal itself to me and reflect what I need to hear or understand.
One notable appearance was in one of my meditative witchy playlists, with a song called "The Top Of The Mountain." The title feels quite fitting, especially for those familiar with the Rider-Waite-Smith imagery. But it's more than just this. The song builds from the verse into the chorus, creating an energy shift that resonates with me. I find it to be an unusually emotive piece lately, particularly with the theme of coming home to/with my kin. This idea mirrors my own practice and reflects my plans, ideas, and hopes for 2025.
Reading + Bibliomancy
These two may exist in different realms, but their connection lies within the written word. Whether we are reading something and stumble upon a link to a card, or we engage in bibliomancy to gain insights, there is an intrinsic bond between the two.
For my final share today, I want to focus again on the 8 of Cups. Specifically, I opened a poetry book while seeking another message to expand upon this card. The poem I received on this occasion was from Alycia Pirmohamed's "Another Way to Split Water."
MIDNIGHT VESSEL ACROSS THE GREAT SEA
What kind of river, then, has no middle?
—Édouard Glissant
Another bloom after the first bloom inheritance is a form of second sight in the past someone with my birthmarks predicted the next moon the upheaval my own ebb.
My body is the echo of her iambs a tradition that sieves right through my ancestor's thread. I am slick with rosewater and cat's eye —I can't choose between survival or pleasure. In the past someone who looked like me fell into the valley of roses five times a day.
This echo is another velvet petal submerged in the drool of my mouth I am submerged in the drool of her mouth.
My second sight is an heirloom a volume of sonnets passed down a line of flight as if she is more image than intent more midnight than syllable the eye before the eye the root beneath my poem. I am a remembrance and she is my volta— an echo blooms this echo is her hair parting into my hair she is the fine dark strand across my memory she glides like a reed a silhouette of green across the great sea her poetry strikes through my window like a stone breaking the skin memory of water.
While some metaphors may not always land in the way I hope, the overall piece allowed me to explore emotions stored within my process. Perhaps that's why I felt compelled to reference a book with a watery essence. One that evokes a sense of place. This piece is both evocative and emotional, with many of the book's entries reflecting on the passage of time and navigating landscapes that are both real and imagined.
This piece prompted me to reflect on the stories I hold within myself, the emotions they evoke, and how I decide to carry them forward. Ultimately, I get to decide, even if my journey to this point was not entirely of my own making. This encompasses everything that forms my past. That is the essence I feel when I think about ‘walking up that mountain.’
That's all I have to share today. My pain levels are still extremely high, and each day feels like a struggle. I find that tarot can serve as a safe space for me during these challenging moments, even if I'm not engaging with it more conventionally. I would love to hear about your creative tarot pursuits or how tarot has appeared in your daily life lately. If nothing else, I hope this encourages some exploration. I always enjoy reading someone else's thoughts and feeling inspired to try something new.