Man, I was stuck. Seriously stuck. It wasn’t just the usual month-end anxiety; this was a deep, paralyzing fear about where my income stream was going to land in the next six months. I was cycling through the same old ideas, reading the same boring finance blogs, and watching my side gig revenue flatline. I kept thinking, “I need a sign. Someone just tell me which way to turn.”
The Setup: Turning Tarot into a Financial Dashboard
I know, I know. Tarot. Hear me out. I was tired of logic. Logic got me nowhere. My buddy was messing around with weekly horoscopes, and I, being a typical Virgo who overthinks everything, started skimming the financial sections. They were always useless, obviously—vague garbage like “A shift in perspective is required” or “Be mindful of unnecessary expenditures.”
I decided to hijack the system. If these free weekly readings were going to be so annoyingly ambiguous, I was going to force them into being actionable. I treated it like a closed system experiment. I committed to four weeks. Every Sunday, I logged into three different popular free Tarotscope sites that focused on the upcoming week for Virgos. I didn’t care about love life or health; I only cared about the dominant card or theme that was screaming at me. Then, I devised a rigid translation protocol.
- Wands (Action/Energy): Must translate into immediate cash flow moves (invoices, sales pitches, short-term debt management).
- Cups (Emotion/Intuition): Must translate into relationship-based financial moves (networking, proposals involving partners, identifying emotionally draining investments).
- Swords (Intellect/Conflict): Must translate into analysis, research, or cutting losses (deep audit, liquidating poorly performing assets, aggressive contract negotiation).
- Pentacles (Material/Stability): Must translate into long-term savings, real estate, or structural business stability checks.
I grabbed a cheap composition notebook and started logging the results. I literally called the sheet “Occult Finance Tracker.” It felt silly, which ironically, helped me bypass my usual critical filter. I was doing something so absurd, I couldn’t overthink the outcomes.
The Practice: Forcing the Financial Interpretation
The first week was rough. The predominant theme was the Eight of Swords. Standard interpretation: feeling trapped, self-imprisonment. If I had used logic, I would have just felt depressed. But my new rule for Swords was: “Conflict/Cutting Losses.”
I immediately interpreted that card as “You are financially trapped by poorly defined recurring subscriptions.” It wasn’t about feeling trapped by the world; it was about the fifteen streaming services and software subscriptions I hadn’t reviewed in a year. I tore through my bank statement that afternoon. Found four services I didn’t even remember signing up for. Canceled them all. Saved maybe $75 a month. Small win, but a tangible output from a completely non-logical input. It validated the process.
Week two threw up The Sun. Classic “happiness and success” card. Easy, right? “Everything is great!” But my rule said Wands/Cups (Energy/Emotion) were about immediate action and networking. I forced the Sun’s meaning into “Your most confident pitch will land this week. Do it now.” I had been sitting on a draft proposal for a high-fee client, terrified to send it because it felt too ambitious. The next morning, I polished it off and hit send. I treated The Sun like a green light, not a passive prediction. They responded positively within 48 hours.
The third week was the most confusing and ultimately, the most pivotal. The major theme was Temperance. Balance, moderation, mixing things up. Since this fell under Pentacles (Stability/Structure), I concluded the message was structural rebalancing. My savings account was completely unbalanced against my emergency fund and my investment portfolio. I was too heavily weighted in “safe” cash, paralyzed by fear of inflation.
The reading mentioned something about “blending opposing elements.” I took the plunge. I moved a significant, cautious chunk of cash out of the basic savings and into a dividend ETF I had researched months ago but was too scared to execute on. It felt like walking a tightrope. I was consciously pushing against my Virgo tendency to hoard cash. The Tarot didn’t tell me which ETF to buy, but it gave me the weird, external permission I needed to execute a move I already knew was smart.
The Realization: It Was Never About the Cards
Did these Tarot readings predict the stock market? Absolutely not. That’s pure garbage. But here’s what happened:
By the end of the four weeks, I tracked the actions taken, not the predictions. I had cancelled debt, secured a major client, and finally rebalanced my long-term portfolio—all tangible, verifiable financial moves that broke my deadlock. The total value generated over the next two months easily dwarfed the previous six months combined.
I realized the whole struggle wasn’t a lack of knowledge; it was analysis paralysis. I knew what I should do, but I needed an external push—even a completely arbitrary, mystical push—to stop overthinking and start doing.
My biggest takeaway wasn’t some spiritual financial insight. It was this:
Sometimes, the simplest way to get career or financial guidance isn’t to ask an expert. It’s to trick yourself into moving. You define a crazy, arbitrary framework, you commit to the rules, and then you follow through, no matter how stupid the initial input seems. The Tarotscope was just a prompt generator that forced me to execute the tasks I had been avoiding because they required a shift in routine or a slight risk. That forced discipline was the real key to unlocking the money.
