Other than a few strange incidents in my teenage years (about which I may write someday), I never thought of myself as particularly psychic. When I became interested in Tarot, this nagged at me a little -- why get involved in something that I knew I wouldn't be excellent at from the get-go? But I hardly cared. My obsession drew me in anyway.
Soon I found out an interesting truth: hang around a pack of Tarot cards long enough, and things will start to happen. I still don’t understand exactly how the readings work; I just know that they do. The readings constantly teach me and they continue to amaze me.
Formal education, as we know it, doesn't really prepare you for reading cards. I spent a lot of my twenties in college, studying things like art, herbalism, creative writing. When I wasn’t actively racking up educational debt, I held down jobs that involved a lot of stapling, filing, and cringing. Eventually I even got a degree, but it was in English, so that meant back to office work where my only apparent virtue was my amiable personality.
Meanwhile, I had been reading cards for friends. Eventually people wanted to pay for readings. Then those people multiplied, and I could finally give up office work and read cards full time. So, here I am. Now, when I’m not reading cards, I spend too much time on the Internet. I read a lot and walk in nature whenever I can. I work on a huge unwieldy novel. I try to keep my house from smelling like cat. Basically, it’s a normal existence. I'm blessed.
