AUTHOR’S NOTE: “Scrying in the spirit vision” is an occult practice involving out-of-body exploration (or, if you prefer, “astral travel”) that is more focused and directed than the spontaneous act of intuitive discernment commonly used in divination. (Classically, one visualizes and enters the “body of light,” projecting it onto the Astral Plane and moving about there, having psychic experiences and hopefully avoiding trouble while learning “things they would not teach (you) of in college.”* However, that concept is too advanced for my purpose here.)

I recently encountered the idea that we can “scry into” our tools of divination (in my case tarot cards) in a way that will yield conscious insights as opposed to purely subconscious intimations. However, the goal is not to pursue an intellectual awareness of the meaning but rather to achieve a mystically-informed mode of cognizance that runs parallel to and complements cerebral comprehension. I see it as a form of “soft focus” that allows the symbolic essence to bypass the critical reasoning faculties and impinge directly upon the “inner sight,” thereby making a kind of sense that escapes rational scrutiny and must be sensitively “decoded” to understand.

In reality, it’s not much different from the semi-analytical perspective I already bring to the cards in my self-styled role as “half mad scientist, half mystic,” I’m just less attuned to the visionary angle than I should be as a graphic artist who used that same channel in my early work: years before I discovered spiritual inquiry I always said the creative impulses were coming “through me, not from me,” and were inspired rather than intentionally chosen. Perhaps, due to my aversion to intuitive guesswork in fortune-telling, I’m missing the benefit of clairvoyant perception (although I would still want it to be intelligible).

For many 21st-Century tarot readers, the “Holy Grail” of tarot proficiency lies in an entirely unstructured, intuitive apprehension of the cards in a spread. They throw their minds wide-open to suggestion from the images without a thought for the more profound wisdom available in the traditional “knowledge base.” They are disinclined to learn anything more substantive than their own assumptions, whether because they are pressed for time, not yet reconciled to the amount of effort involved, mentally incapable of grasping the esoteric principles, or (not unthinkable in these indulgent times) unable to read beyond the sixth-grade level; all of these objections amount to excuses that fall under the umbrella of “I can’t be bothered, I just want quick answers!”

As described by Benebell Wen, 11th-Century Chinese scholar and mystic Shao Yong was of the opinion that, in addition to an ability to spot patterns, “The prerequisite to successful divination is a dedication to study.” The late comedian George Carlin put it more succinctly: “Ya gotta wanna!” When it comes to modern tarot practice of the populist social-media variety, both of these sentiments seem to be in short supply, taking a back seat to an “It’s so simple a caveman could do it” mentality. Intuitive interpretation is the obvious panacea for such evasion of commitment since its credentials are too elusive to draw a critical bead on, consisting mostly of “If it feels right, it must be true.”

But getting off the soapbox and back to the point of this essay . . .

In the past I’ve written frequently about how “evocative” the Minor Arcana of the Thoth deck are, but the idea of “scrying into” them with mystical intent never crossed my mind (that technique was reserved for pathworking with the Major Arcana). I just took their metaphysical brilliance for granted in a pragmatic way but, in thinking about it, my appreciation has always run deeper than surface impressions, I just never put it into words that convey their impact on my mantic sensibilities.

I’ve also written quite often of the fact that every tarot card contains layers of meaning that can be “peeled like an onion,” and I can think of no better way to penetrate those hidden realms than through a purposeful attempt at scrying fueled by the creative imagination. (I don’t recommend doing this with the RWS deck; you might wind up in Pamela Colman Smith’s private “Twilight Zone.”)

Whether it comes up with anything that is useful to the art of card-reading is another matter, but it can’t be any less sloppy than intuitive conjecture, and it will no doubt have a much firmer foundation given my decades of experience with the Thoth deck. Challenge accepted; you will definitely see the evidence in my future Thoth readings.

*Extracted from the lyrics of “Wrapped Around Your Finger” by The Police.