Tarot reading is a gift. It’s a labor of love to learn to read the cards, not just in their literal sense, but in their energetic truths. Nobody reads the same, nobody interprets the same. it’s as unique as a fingerprint. I love this ability, I find it fascinating. The cards rarely read the same way twice and when they do it’s a massive sign as impressive as the cards themselves. Lately though I’ve found my labor of love feels more like labor.
the cards have felt heavy in my hands, sticky, uncertain. Before, if I couldn’t hear their voices I could hear my own. and now it’s just silence. it’s time to put them down and walk away. It’s time to face the facts, I’m in time out. I even had to set down my yes/no answer cards and walk away. It feels odd, feels a bit off, but it’s necessary. I know when they are ready to be picked up it’ll be with all the more appreciation and love.
I can’t help but wonder at the timing. Since the last full moon I’ve been avoiding my search for answers. Leaving things up to fate and yet, as nothing has changed or surfaced I am growing impatient and a little more than slightly annoyed. Timing has never been my strong suit, patience, never my favorite virtue.
Deep breaths, it’ll all be ok.