AUTHOR’S NOTE: Many years ago, Wiccan author Scott Cunningham wrote at least one book of guidance and advice for the “solitary witch,” the isolated practitioner with no coven to call home. My experience over the last fourteen years as a professional tarot reader seeking sophisticated fellowship echoes that unhappy sense of seclusion,

The regional communities that exist (or briefly existed) in my area for the purpose of direct contact are often far-flung and flagrantly devoid of stability and commitment. Most are established for the purpose of making money for the organizers rather than to promote the stimulating exchange of ideas. I’ve joined several Meetup groups in southeastern New Hampshire, only to have them: 1) fail prematurely; 2) ask for too much money from participants; or 3) wander off into shamanism and indiscriminate “light-work.” Local metaphysical shops already have their resident diviners, so opportunities in that direction are few. (In this regard I want to give a shout-out to the long-running Massachusetts Tarot Society for sticking to their game plan, although I’m no longer close enough to participate.)

In my opinion, divination with the cards is most effective and engaging when conducted as a performance art (by which I mean in-person and face-to-face). Lacking such an outlet, we’re left with the bloodless rapport of online communalism (the “unholy alliance” of the title), most of which doesn’t even involve dialogue but is merely a gaggle of anxious beginners begging for assistance in trying to fathom what they’re seeing on the table in front of them. (Perish the thought that they should read a book or two to get their bearings, and then contemplate the experience before asking for help!)

Once there was Aeclectic Tarot, with its bottomless reservoir of in-house knowledge on full display for those who found their way into the give-and-take of its opinionated free-for-all. But that site folded in 2017 and has never been successfully replicated, although many have tried with underwhelming results. (Even the “new” Aeclectic is only a showplace for deck reviews, not a forum for participatory discussion.) The inspiring presence of Solandia-and-company is sorely missed. I recently went back to Tarot, Tea and Me, an Aecletic spin-off forum, hoping they could make a liar out of me, but no dice; it seems that those Aeclectic members who were capable of having a profound discussion of esoteric matters have all left for parts unknown, and I found little of substance to hold my interest. I’m sticking around but not by much since I feel like a “fish out of water.”

In self-defense, I started this blog shortly after Aeclectic’s demise, but for the most part I’ve felt like I’m “howling in the wilderness” since I rarely receive constructive feedback or even topical small-talk. I don’t mind the silence too much because it gives me a sounding-board to “hear myself think,” but I want to believe that there are kindred spirits in the same predicament who would like to compare notes now and again. Not those who just want me to visit their YouTube feeds, because I don’t have a YouTube account and have better things to do than listen raptly to talking heads; I crave intelligent interaction whenever I can find it. I don’t even watch television but once or twice a month, and much prefer the written word to its spoken equivalent. (For the record, I know there is reddit, but the mods place far too many restrictions on posting to make it worthwhile and most members are the aforesaid needy novices, so I left.)

Of course there is the occasional opportunity to perform a remote tarot reading, and I’ve developed a workaround that lets me satisfy my expectation for client involvement in the process, but – even though I have all the time I need to polish the narrative – it just isn’t the same as looking them in the eye and reacting in a timely manner to their questions and comments. An energized reader-client interface is crucial to the way I conduct my readings.

I’m not Zoltar the fortune-telling machine that spits out canned predictions on demand, and I don’t work for free or even for the pittance that most Etsy readers command. I’m a dedicated cut-to-fit prognosticator on a mission to tailor my observations to the specific needs of the seeker. It takes time and effort to do correctly, and I expect my compensation to be greater than the paltry $5 or $10 that “assembly-line” internet readers ask; thus I refuse to compete with them since I won’t use electronic tarot apps to generate my content. Where’s the mystical expertise in pushing a button and copying-and-pasting the output? I’d rather think on my feet and talk myself out of tight spots than try to pass off computer-generated insights as original work.

The mercenary nature of the social-media marketplace and its appetite for nickle-and-dime fortune-telling is depressing for the serious diviner. If that is what passes for professionalism in these tawdry times, I think I’ll just keep writing my daily blog posts and then go do something else that doesn’t require an audience or a clientele. I certainly don’t need the money, and I have no patience for the circus that popular metaphysics has become. One glance at the offerings of self-styled spiritual self-help gurus is enough to make me shudder. (Cacao-sound-bath-transformational-yoga-guided-meditation-shamanistic-drumming-salt-ritual-biofeedback-reiki-healing, anyone? At least I can buy into meditative breathwork because I use it effectively to combat insomnia, but I don’t need an entrepreneurial mentor.)

My favorite quote in defense of tarot reading has always been Hamlet’s advice to Horatio: “There are more things in heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” But from what I see going on, I think I may have a change of heart and replace it with rival entrepreneur David Gannon’s snide quip about showman P.T. Barnum’s gullible customers: “There’s a sucker born every minute.”