I grew up among people who experienced ghosts and accepted psychic abilities, or extra ordinary perception (ESP), as it was called back then, as normal. I once saw a woman at the kitchen table reading a deck of playing cards. I wanted mine read, but was told that “the stars move too quickly for children.” I recognized a creatively crafted “no” when I heard one.
When I was 17, I stumbled upon an unopened box of Tarot cards and a book in the basement. I promptly opened them and began my first reading. The deck contained only the 22 cards of the major arcana, and, having no experience, I used what I call ‘the recipe method’ – I just read the meanings from the book. I don’t remember my question, but I do remember the answer — “I would get money and travel.” I quickly dismissed this preposterous answer and forgot about the reading.
But, then a funny thing happened. At the time, I was a high school senior in New Jersey. I had accepted admittance to Rutgers University – a local state college. Although I had applied to Pitzer – a private college in California, I didn’t believe that I would be able to go. One day in April, I got an acceptance letter from Pitzer. They awarded me with enough financial aid that I was able to go. Then I remembered the reading. I got money and was traveling to California. I packed those cards with me when I flew off in August.
Throughout the years, I taught myself and gave readings to friends. I also took classes in psychic development, meditation, tarot, etc. Last year I decided to start giving readings over the phone. I knew other people did this, but I like personal contact. It turns out that the telephone results have been just as good as face-to-face.
Despite the outcome of my first reading, they usually aren’t about making predictions. I’m not likely to tell you that you’re going to win the lottery. And how useful would that be? Maybe you will, and maybe you won’t. No one gets 100% accurate information. And what would you do with accurate information about the future? Think about that. One of my teachers had school-aged children. They used to ask her if they would pass their tests. She figured, if she told them they would pass, they wouldn’t study, and if she told them they wouldn’t pass, they wouldn’t study. So, she wouldn’t say.
postscript… Years after finding the Tarot cards, I asked my mother how they got in the basement. She didn’t know anything about them. Maybe they were a forgotten housewarming gift. Surely they were meant for me.