One thing to which any blogger pays at least casual attention is daily site traffic. In my own case I haven’t monetized this blog so I’m not hanging on every minuscule fraction of a penny that changes hands over my contribution to the community. But, although I have slightly more than 300 followers now (a mere pittance in the overall demographic), I find that I’m lucky to receive more than 50 visits on any given day unless I post my essays on one of the Facebook pages I frequent. When that happens I can get over 200 “hits” and an occasional “like” or comment. After almost six years of posting, I’ve become philosophical (although not yet pessimistic) about the prospects of starting any kind of ongoing dialogue through the medium of WordPress, so I just exchange ideas with my Facebook tarot friends and sometimes on the r/divination sub-reddit. All of this is, of course, merely filling the virtual void left by the lack of face-to-face encounters in the “real world.”

I love the interactive nature of tarot (which I consider a “performance art” as much as a helping discipline) and – although I’ve done some – I have never really warmed up to online reading. Recognizing that it takes dramatically more time and effort for which compensation is seldom adequate, it does permit a thorough and thoughtful examination of the details of every card as it relates to the question. But it lacks the invigorating immediacy of sitting eyeball-to-eyeball with a “live one” across the table and the inescapable need to measure up to the challenge without too much verbal “tap-dancing.” Although many people squirm in this situation (I would suggest they are in the wrong line of work or are pursuing an unsuitable hobby), I truly believe it’s “where the rubber meets the road” in any kind of divinatory practice (except perhaps astrology, which is a deductive, analytical venture rather than a mystical undertaking). This direct engagement often teaches me as much about the human/tarot interface as it offers meaningful insights to the seeker via my observations. In other words, for me every reading is a two-way street and any opportunity to increase my own knowledge is welcome.

In the long run – accepting the ephemeral nature of electronic media – I hope to leave a legacy for those interested in following the same esoteric path I’ve been on since the beginning (now lost in the mists of time, or 1972). I suspect this objective is not aligned all that closely with the current upsurge of popularity in the tarot-reader’s art, much of which strikes me as social-media entertainment as well as a money-making scheme for bloggers, YouTube gurus and budding deck creators. Scratch a tarot enthusiast and you will frequently find a new deck in the making that is welcomed with open arms in the self-publishing arena regardless of how much it fails to partake of traditional wisdom. If it’s to be used as an oracle deck, ignore the symbolism and have at it, but if it is intended to be taken seriously by seasoned tarot readers and not just snapped up by the “fanboi” contingent, it should at least acknowledge some debt to historical precedent. I often think that the over-hyped “everyone can be an artist” premise is a veiled substitute for the belief that “It’s so simple a caveman could do it.” Unfortunately, much of the present outpouring of new decks substantiates the latter opinion. It’s a rare day that finds me considering the purchase of a new tarot deck.

If you’re interested in a deep dive into the metaphysical abstractions that underlie the tarot cards, stick around and explore some of the 1,700 essays I’ve posted here (with some regrettable but inevitable repetition of ideas). I don’t pretend to be a tarot scholar of any great distinction, but I have been studying at the feet of the masters for decades and have forged my own outlook on what it all means for the modern practitioner.