I read for clients and many times, being an empathic reader, I feel their pain. Literally, shooting up my spine, like it’s going to snap in half. I feel what they have to carry on with every day. Visions of them doubled over a bed, unable to move, crying. It sometimes lingers, hanging in the air. Same cards will pop up, over and over again like a repeating sign, and I let them hold the card. Their eyes linger on it for long as if they’re drinking in the symbols, the image of a woman in a throne, or a sword piercing through clouds. “To be able to influence someone’s life like that, what a gift.” Someone had said to me earlier this week. I have been reading for ages, but to have a glimpse of someone’s life like that, I still think it’s bizarre. It’s bizarre, sometimes haunting, sometimes jarring. It’s hard to pinpoint.

I have teamed up with my favorite astrologer for astro-tarot dual readings. Visit here to see more.

I haven’t gotten a tarot reading from others in a long while, but last time when someone read for me as a practice, she looked down at the five of pentacles and said “It is now your time to go into the light. Don’t be afraid of the dark. You are not walking alone.” I stared at her pink shirt. We were only allowed to say one thing, and most of the things we said were rushed and vague, but hers was the only thing that stayed with me, and I said, I’ll remember. It came back to me this morning when I woke up, white sheets all wrapped around me and my face half-buried into a pillow. It kind of struck me altogether with the dream I had. It’s mostly why it’s so much better to record or write down the readings, because you don’t know how useful it will be in the latter times or how it’s just going to make sense all the sudden, striking a critical cord within you.