Wednesday, December 13, 2006
I don't know why that is. Well, I kinda do. See, I don't have "regular office hours." Some readers will sign on for shifts and let their clients know their schedule. That's pretty smart. I don't do that. One of the beauties of reading online is the flexibility and with three kids, two dogs, a houseplant (only one that my black thumb of death has not yet killed), my university classes and my mood swings, I appreciate being able to take down my shingle so I can pick up a vomiting child at school or any other random responsibility the day throws my way. But consistent it isn't. That's my life, though. It isn't consistent. It isn't even consistently stressful. Sometimes it's so boring I bore myself. Personally, I'll take boredom over frenetic, stressful happenings any day, but because my life is filled with random younger people who need me, I don't get to choose which I'll get on any given day. So, I don't have a reading schedule. Sorry.
Here's another benefit to reading online, and actually this would apply to anyone who works from home -- a bed tray, coffee in a thermos because I'm too lazy to take refill trips downstairs, a laptop with a wireless connection on my bed and me, dressed in what I slept in last night and bedhead laying out cards on my bed for readings. I do make the bed at least. I need a smooth surface. If I could manage to turn this gig into something that could actually pay ALL my bills instead of just a few, it would be the perfect setup.
An old friend called the other night. At around midnight. I didn't recognize the number, so I answered. I don't usually do that, but sometimes random friends call from various phones at odd hours because they don't own phones and are borrowing one. This time it was my old high school boyfriend. I say old because he's a year older than me. I hadn't talked to him in maybe six months or so, so when I heard his voice on the phone I didn't immediately recognize it. Doesn't matter that I've known him since I was fifteen, I get amnesia when I don't talk to someone in a while. So, somewhere in the subsequent four-hour getting all caught up on each other's lives conversation, he asks what I'm doing and I tell him I'm reading tarot professionally. He was taken aback.
"You? You read tarot? You? For money?"
"Uh huh. It's great. I really enjoy it."
"Ginny. I've known you a long time, and I've always thought you were an intelligent, rational person. Are you going to tell me that you really think that you can tell what is going to happen with a deck of cards?"
This from a guy who swears he can make it rain at will and change red lights to green, except when it doesn't work. You wouldn't believe the metaphysical bullshit that comes out of this guy's mind and mouth when sober, nevermind when he's high. I think he forgot, I've known him a long time, too.
"I am intelligent and yes, the cards are amazing, or rather I am amazing. The cards are tools, after all, just pictures on paper. They're archetypal images, and if you don't know what that means it's basically that they are images that portray emotions, situations, and so forth that are universal and common to the human experience. Everyone has a brain they only use a tenth of and when I read the cards I try to exercise that underused part of the brain, you know...where all the powerful, woo-woo stuff comes from."
"Alright, I hear you. So what kind of stuff can you see in a reading?"
"All kinds of stuff. But mainly what seems to happen is a situation, a course of events, has a history of energy, momentum behind it. If you want to know why you are where you are now, you just have to look at your past actions. If you want to know where you are going, look at your present actions. It's not that hard."
"So how do the cards tell you that?"
"There is a whole range of skill to tarot reading, it's not just pulling stuff out of your underwear. Well, sometimes it is just that. Wait, nevermind. It's hard to explain."
"Well, I don't really know how it works or why, and sometimes it doesn't work. But when it does, which is usually, I will describe what I am seeing in a card that comes up in a past position in a reading. Even though I've seen this card a million times before, it tells me something a little different each time, just for the person I'm reading for. I listen for clues and watch for details in the cards, hearing phrases in my head I write them down. I also know the historical meanings of the cards and the numerological associations, some astrological associations, some symbolism, too. It all comes into the mix. And I move through the cards like that, linking what happened in the past, to the present and seeing the flow you can see where it's likely to go. I dialogue with my client and I make sure what I'm hearing/seeing/processing is making sense to them, to their life. But sometimes I can't do that, such as with an email reading, I just have to spill all that I am seeing onto the page and hope I hit the mark and offer something meaningful. My goal is to help people gain perspective on their dilemmas and recognize what their own intution is telling them. To help them focus on something they know, but have lost sight of or can't quite nail down until the reading brings it into clear sight."
"Sounds like psychology to me."
"Well, there is some of that. I do draw on my experience as a counselor during my readings, as well as my own life experience and understanding. But that's not all. Sometimes there just isn't any explanation for how I could see what I see in a reading. It's not like I know the person usually. Often, they are anonymous and I might only know their first name. I have picked up on the hour and minute someone would call, the fact that a woman was experiencing PMS and would get her period the next week, that a client's ex would act a specific way and say a specific thing the next time they spoke, that someone's friend was in jail (verified later to be the case) and there just isn't any way I could logically pull any of that from my own subconscious. Are there invisible bands of energy that connect all of us and I somehow intuitively tap into those? I don't know. I have no idea. These cards never fail to amaze me and the mystery and magic is a big part of why I love this so much."
"Alright, alright, I get it. I see what you mean. Will you do me a reading?"
And so I did. And it was good. So good that he called me the next day and left a message saying it really hit the spot. Effin' naysayer. Somehow, saying all that stuff to him felt really good. I really don't like having to defend what I do, but it comes with the territory. So when I went through the explanations, I realized as I was talking that I sounded intelligent and sane. That's always a good thing because there are definitely moments I question the same things. Even though I am a tarot reader, it doesn't mean I check my brains at the door. Quite the contrary. And I sometimes wonder if maybe I'm just good at putting the meanings together in a way that is generalized and able to be fit to any circumstance? Maybe I'm a sham and I don't know it? And then something happens when I read that does not fit so neatly into how things are, it defies rational explanation, it goes way beyond me picking up cues and clues from the seeker (because I don't get any) and beyond my own life knowledge and experience. And I am amazed once again.
So bring it. Let me read for you. I may or may not knock your socks off, no promises there. But I'm good at this, and that is worth something.
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