Okay so here’s the thing: I pulled cards last Tuesday and everything felt… sticky. Like trying to walk through honey. My old Rider-Waite deck just wasn’t clicking. Even simple daily draws came out scrambled. So I thought, maybe it’s not me – maybe this deck needs a reset. Grabbed my dusty journal and decided to try a full cleanse ritual before bedtime.
First step? Clearing the physical gunk. Laid a clean black cloth on my desk – old t-shirt, actually – and dumped the entire deck face-down. Started wiping each card individually with a dry microfiber cloth. You wouldn’t believe the greasy fingerprints on that Knight of Pentacles. Took twenty minutes just scrubbing edges. Felt like washing dishes but weirder.
Next, smoke time. Didn’t have fancy sage, so I lit a cedar incense stick instead. Held each card about six inches above the smoke spiral, turning them slow like marshmallows over a campfire. Focused hard on imagining gray fuzz drifting off the Queen of Swords. Smelled up my whole bedroom but whatever.
Now the crystal part. Stacked the wiped/smoked deck between two clear quartz points I’ve had since college. Left them squished there while I drank tea for fifteen minutes. Honestly? Mostly stared at the pile thinking “please work please work.” Not exactly mystical but hey – intention matters.
Final touch: recharging under moonlight. Cracked my window open just enough. Balanced the deck on the sill where the light hit around 1am. Woke up at 3am panicking about raccoons stealing my Three of Cups. Ran to check – still there. Collected them at sunrise feeling ridiculous but committed.
Tried a three-card spread immediately after breakfast. Mind-blown. The Fool popped up clearer than ever, edges practically glowing. Did my work questions flow smoother? Yes. Was it placebo? Maybe. But when that sticky feeling vanishes overnight, you stop caring why. Clean cards read true. Period.
TL;DR: Rituals seem silly till your deck stops giving you gibberish. Wash off the burger grease, smoke ’em if you got ’em, and let moonbeams do the rest. Feels less like magic and more like maintenance for your brain-tool.
