An excerpt from the upcoming book, Elegant Empaths
Empathic people find it easier than most to accept the existence of things unseen. No wonder so many empathic people are drawn to divination in all its forms: Tarot, pendulums, scrying, tea leaves and the like. My preference is for the Tarot. I currently have a collection of decks that occupy a large, deep shelf in the living room. Little did I know that what began as a curiosity would ultimately lead to contact with the Higher Guides.
I began reading Tarot when I was 18. In my junior year of college, we went on a trip to the UK entitled “Literary London.” For a dozen luxurious days, we sauntered about London, shopping and visiting museums. We enjoyed a bus tour of Stratford-Upon-Avon. Perhaps the best part for this troupe of English majors was a trip to Penguin Books, a four-story architectural gem occupying an odd-shaped corner of London.
I entered the store, dreaming I would never leave. There were point-of-purchase displays, one of them featuring an array of recent paperbacks and beautiful little boxes with art-deco designs on the cover. I decided to purchase one of these clever boxes without knowing fully at the time to what I had been drawn. I had not yet heard of Tarot cards, much less A.E. Waite and Pamela Coleman Smith, author and illustrator of the famous Rider-Waite deck.
When we returned to the States, I unpacked the cards. After trying them out on myself, I read for my friend, Robyn. I would spread a scarf on the floor, lay out the cards in a cross and stave pattern, and light a candle. To enhance the ambiance, I wore a scarf and earrings. Initially, I had to look up the meaning of each card; after a while, I was familiar with most of the symbols and divinatory meanings.
I noticed that, with the Celtic Cross arrangement, a kind of story would emerge, culminating in an ultimate bit of guidance. I’d read books on the Tarot and adopted a series of principles that resonated with my own core values. For instance, I never use the cards to predict death, illness or calamitous results. I only use them to alert people to possible influences and a possible outcome.
In my travels, I came across another reader who suggested I try reading intuitively. She had learned from an instructor who challenged her one day, saying, “Throw the book away. Just read — without the book!” She then had me read for her, her husband and their friend, all without consulting the book. I did as she had suggested—and all were astonished at my accuracy!
Another milestone was in the kitchen of my first publisher. She allowed me to read for her and her staff. We would clear the table and light whatever white candle was available. With eyes closed, I would take a deep breath, exhale and quietly call in the Beings of White Light to guide us. I do not know exactly when I started doing this, or even what prompted me to do so, but I’ve made that a practice ever since. The first time I did that, the publisher and her editor exclaimed almost simultaneously, “Wow. Did you feel the energy shift?”
My journey with the Tarot has brought me into a deeper connection with the Beings of White Light. They are more than a mere abstraction or fanciful construction of the mind. Their beautiful, loving, gently supportive energy is available to all — to anyone with a genuine desire to understand life more deeply and the courage to ask for guidance where it is needed.
Through my encounters with these magical cards, I have come to view the readings as offering sort of a little “road map of the soul.” Each reading is vibrant and viable within the time it is given. The more readings I perform, the more clearly I understand my role in all of this. I am not a forecaster, predictor or prognosticator. If I remain focused enough, however, I can serve as a skilled, articulate and compassionate vessel of Divine guidance.