Why I even bothered with tarot for health stuff
Heard folks swear tarot cards can predict sickness, wellness, you name it. Yeah, right? Skeptical but curious, I decided to grab my dusty Rider-Waite deck yesterday afternoon and test this myself. Real talk: I wanted clear answers, not woo-woo nonsense.
Started simple. Cleared my tiny kitchen table – dumped yesterday’s mail and a dirty coffee mug aside. Lit a single cheap tea light candle for focus – because why not? Shuffled the cards roughly, thinking hard: “Will my recurring back pain flare up this month?” Felt awkward talking to a deck. Seriously shuffled for like three minutes, knuckles cracking, hoping for something definitive.
Pulled three cards blindly, heart thumping stupidly fast. Here’s how it went down:
First card: Death. Yep, the scary skeleton one.
- My guts twisted immediately. “Death?!” Cue mini panic attack. Almost chucked the deck right there.
- But I forced myself to chill. Breathed deep. Remembered Death usually means CHANGE, not actual dying. Maybe my stiff back routine needs shaking up? Ditching the old chair?
- Relief flooded me. Phew. Okay, manageable.
Second card: Seven of Cups, upside down (reversed).
- Felt confusing. All those little cups floating… reversed. Huh?
- Realized: Hey, this screams mental fog to me. Too many options swirling. Probably my own stress and junk food choices clouding judgement about health.
- Made sense. Been stress-eating cookies like it’s my job.
Third card: Ten of Pentacles.
- Old man with family and a fancy archway. Stability symbol? At first glance, looks great.
- Digging deeper, though? It hit me – this card talks long-term foundations. Suddenly connected it back to the Death card’s “change” message. Maybe this stability depends on ACTING on that need for change? Changing habits for future health?
- Lightbulb moment. The future health picture depends on fixing my NOW.
So here’s what actually happened
Sat staring at those cards for like 20 minutes. Felt kinda silly, honestly. Did it literally predict a doctor’s diagnosis? Nope. Did it wave a magic wand? Absolutely not. Instead, the cards kicked my brain into gear.
That Death card pushed me to finally order that ergonomic cushion I kept putting off. The Seven of Cups reversed made me realize how my late-night sugary snacks make everything ache worse. And the Ten of Pentacles? It reminded me why I need consistency – boring stretches, less junk, more water – for real, lasting stability.
End result? Spent my evening meal prepping veggies instead of ordering pizza. Did my stupid physio stretches like clockwork today. Honestly? My back feels… lighter. Was it the cards? Or just me finally paying attention?
The raw truth: Tarot cannot predict viruses, diagnose illness, or read medical scans. That’s science territory. Cards are not crystal balls. But here’s the weird part – this personal experiment did work. Not by magic, but by forcing self-reflection. It ripped me out of autopilot, highlighted stupid patterns I was ignoring, and gave me symbols to chew on. For me? Now? Tarot’s health value isn’t about fortune-telling. It’s about using weird pictures as a mental mirror, a tool to get brutally honest with myself about choices I’m making right now that shape my future body.
