what if i said tarot isn't about self-growth. what then?

mmmm let's get ranty

When I walk into the average bookstore, my go-to routine is that I’ll make a quick beeline to the “religion/theology/philosophy” sections (or whatever seems adjacent), and then I’ll cross my fingers and hope tarot also happens to be there, for some reason. But it usually isn’t, even though I am always hoping that it is. I know in my heart of hearts that it’s usually by “self-help/mindfulness/wellness” — a tarot deck or two wedged between some self-reflective journals that help you ease your anxiety, or whatever else.

If I’m being honest, I don’t think I like tarot getting absorbed so easily into the larger header of the modern “wellness and mindfulness” category.

Photo by Shiromani Kant on Unsplash

But wait, a caveat! Most studies will purport that the relationship between “wellness” (as in the holistic well-being of a person) and spirituality, as far as we can really quantify and define this sort of thing, tends to be net positive.

So I’ll clarify that my issue with this has less to do with the concept of “tarot + mindfulness + wellness” on its own, and more to do with “wellness and mindfulness” as a shopping category… but anything involving our dollar also tends to heavily influence our perception of what an object/practice even is or can be, so here’s the beef again. Unfortunately, industries are how we tend to label things (and even ourselves).

After all, when the average American thinks of “wellness” now, what are we thinking of? My mind personally goes to a place like this:

“Just like religious life, which emphasizes the importance of the religious experience – sermons, pilgrimage and prayer – the wellness economy sells us aspirational lifestyles characterized by similar kinds of individual and communal experiences. From morning meditations to Bootcamp classes and yoga retreats, the purchase of wellness promises a healthier, more meaningful and beautiful life.”

— Clementine Prendergast, “How wellness became a secular new age religion”

but wait. does this mean you think tarot isn’t a tool for wellness?

No.

Tarot has irrevocably changed me as a person with the gravity of something woven into my bloodstream or attached to my body like an organ. I am a better, more empathetic, well-rounded, healthier, and self-reflective person because it is and has been, for me, the perfect medium for self-exploration, stillness, and cultivating discipline. It has made me smarter, more compassionate, and worldlier, offering me the continuous opportunity to deeply connect with strangers worldwide, hear their stories, and hold meaningful, intentional conversations. If I attempted to actually relay the depth and importance that the practice has carved out in my personhood I would spend the rest of my time on earth trying, as I do not believe it’s possible to put into words.

But.

I have serious concerns about allowing tarot to be fully absorbed into the category of “self-help and wellness.” To me, the phrase “tarot is a tool for self-growth” sounds like “eggs are for baking.” It’s true, but also that’s a weird way to say it, right? (Is an egg not a bit more than this?).

"L'aurora" 1948, Salvador Dali (always reminds me of the egg by andy weir)

I will call it how I see it. There is a crowd that will passionately insist that “tarot can be for anything” until you say it can be fortune-telling. They react like I just said a dirty word — “fortune-telling” — as if this hasn’t been how tarot was predominantly utilized in the past century, as if the practice as we know it doesn’t rest on the backs of Romani fortune-tellers who paved the way and received little to no credit.

I am willing to kindly say, “well yes, but also…” in response to “tarot is a tool for self-growth,” but not if it means erasing history. You are not innately more correct for having a practice that happens to align with the socially acceptable norm that the public consciousness has accepted for this particular decade.

To exist in the tarot community means accepting that you inherently share the space with a diverse group of practitioners who come from passionately different belief systems and practices than you, and a lot of them were there first.

oh i’m not done. are you guys actually qualified for this sh*t?

Here’s a fun, loaded question: do you use tarot to help people, or do you have a savior complex?

The road to self-growth and personal transformation is paved with a lot of patience, honesty, hiccups, and nuanced intersections of identity. It can involve unpacking serious trauma and uncomfortable memories, navigating complex relationships and feelings, and most importantly, time. It takes time.

“Becoming a better person” is a nice ideal but it’s also a loaded one, and expecting to handle it all right then and there in one tarot session is a heavy task for not just you, the reader, but also the person on the other side of the cards. I have no psych or medical qualifications, and for that matter finding a therapist or a doctor that you vibe with can also take time and research too. Who am I to assume that I am perfectly suited to change a querent’s life every single time I lay down cards?

Photo by Viva Luna Studios on Unsplash

Overriding a client’s desire to shoot the shit about their ex because I want to “focus on their personal growth” can sound like an innocuously helpful enough approach, but assuming that I simply know better than a grown adult and projecting an objective onto them is at the very least weird and patronizing, and at worst damaging and unkind. (And let’s not pretend that talking feelings and relationships with another person, no matter how “basic” you think it is, isn’t one of the most fundamental pieces of finding clarity, understanding, and ourselves).

I am no grief counselor, life coach, or psychologist. I am no spiritual teacher, enlightened guru, or prophet. I am a twenty-something who happened to study a lot about tarot and spiritual symbolism, and when I read cards, I bring my own biases and personal experiences to the table every. single. time.
Attempting to bypass this truth is attempting to bypass my humanity, to assign authority (or at worst, omniscience) to myself where there isn’t any.

so here is what i really mean. this is what it’s really all about

I am so grateful to be a human being with flaws and beliefs and opinions. I am so blessed to grow at my own unique pace, in twists and turns that other people will never truly fathom because they are mine and not theirs, in the life I was gifted for reasons I will never know with complete certainty. I get to wake up every day and know that there is always more to learn, that clawing at the unknowns of the universe will only ever be scratching the surface, that I can keep asking questions forever and ever until I die.

Reading another person, for even the minute fraction of time that they are giving me in their much larger life’s experience, is to carve out a briefly-held corner in time and space where we intentionally meet each other in our journeys, and that in itself is so fucking mind-blowing that I don’t give a flying shit what it is that they want to talk about or how much I’m “changing” their trajectory.

That is enough for me. Being human is enough. (I hope it’s enough for you too).