So I had this weird thing bugging me all week where I couldn’t decide if I should jump into this new project everyone seems pumped about. Felt totally stuck. Normally, I’d shuffle my trusty Rider-Waite deck for someone else, right? But this time? Needed something for me. Enter the Querent Tarot approach. Basically, reading my own cards, but trying to ditch my usual habits.
Getting Started (The Messy Part)
Grabbed my go-to deck around 6 PM yesterday. Kitchen table was covered in leftover breadcrumbs. Typical. Cleared a tiny space. No fancy cloth, no candles this time. Just me, the cards, and the hum of the fridge. Felt kinda awkward, sitting in my usual spot but pretending I was the ‘seeker’. Rubbed my hands on my jeans – palms were sweaty. Don’t know why. Felt… naked? Like turning the lens back on myself.
Shuffled. And shuffled. And shuffled some more. Usually, I kinda zone out when shuffling for others. This time? My brain wouldn’t shut up. “Am I shuffling enough?” “What even IS the question?” It was just god awful. Tried focusing just on how the cards felt slipping between my fingers. Cold. Smooth cardboard. Finally dumped the whole deck out. Looked like a giant mess. Scooped ’em up roughly into a pile. No more guides, no fancy rituals. Just me.
Throwing Down the Cards
Closed my eyes, held the messy pile for a sec, took a breath that hitched a little (felt silly), then pulled three cards. Slammed them face down on the breadcrumb-free zone:
- Card 1: Past/Where this is coming from? Flips it Ugh. The Hermit. Staring back at me with his lantern. Figured. Always crawling into my cave overthinking stuff.
- Card 2: Present/What’s really going on now? Flips faster, annoyed The Seven of Cups. Piles of vague choices floating around? Yeah, spot on. Felt like my brain was that card.
- Card 3: Possible Outcome/Where this heads? Hesitated… flipped slowly King of Swords. Just glared at me like a strict teacher needing a decision.
Sat back hard in the chair. Leg bounced like crazy. Wasn’t exactly a happy-go-lucky spread. The Hermit made sense – I’d been buried in research paralysis for ages. Seven of Cups? Yep, seeing phantom opportunities everywhere. But that King? Seemed harsh. My stomach kinda flipped. Not the warm fuzzy feeling I usually aim for when reading for pals.
The Ugly Bit – Trying to Read My Own Mess
Started muttering out loud to myself. “Okay, so… I’ve been isolating, overthinking (Hermit). Now I’m drowning in options I haven’t really checked out properly (Seven of Cups). And this guy… King of Swords… he wants clarity? A firm choice? Using my head over my nerves?” Felt stupid talking to an empty kitchen.
The King looked way more intimidating than usual. Felt like he was telling me to stop dreaming about all seven cups and actually pick one already. To stop hiding behind ‘research’ and make a call based on facts, not fear of picking wrong. But was that me pushing that? Or was that the cards? Took a sip of cold coffee. Grimaced. That really was the logical thing to do. Cut the noise. Choose something. Own the choice. Didn’t like how uncomfortable that felt. Not one bit.
The Click Moment (Kinda)
Didn’t get a magic answer. Didn’t suddenly know which project to join. But that King’s stare? It burned off some fog. Realised the blockage wasn’t about the projects themselves. It was me being scared stiff of committing and being wrong. Of looking dumb. The cards laid out the cycle: Hide, Dream, Need to Decide. The Querent reading didn’t give me a map; it held up a mirror I’d been avoiding. Wasn’t pretty, but hey, mirrors rarely are when you need ’em. Left the cards on the table overnight. Needed to let that King’s glare sink in.
