AUTHOR’S NOTE: The belief in communication with spirits is often based on the assumption of an invisible world that exists behind or above mundane reality, and these contacts are said to occur along frequencies or “channels” that can be accessed through the psychic faculties. This is the Astral Plane of the mystics and the Formative World of the Qabalists where the conceptual models for all physical things coalesce and are then projected (the technical term is “emanated”) onto the Material Plane. Successfully navigating this ethereal zone in search of concealed intelligence requires both preparation and caution, but one must first understand how it might be entered with confidence. (This isn’t a primer on how to do that; you can find reliable guidance elsewhere.)

The physical properties of a liquid include the concept of “surface tension” as reflected in the amount of effort required to penetrate its surface film. This is usually a function of its viscosity or tactile thickness. For example, motor oil is thicker than water and thus has a greater surface tension. (I’m not so sure about the superiority of proverbial “blood over water” since the human condition in the 21st Century seems more thin-skinned and emotionally anemic than ever, which is the main reason I’ve started puckishly [and perhaps unfairly at this early date] referring to the currently-unnamed generation after “Gen Z” as “Gen Null.” But that’s the parents’ and the child-psychologists’ problem, so I’ll get off the sociological soapbox . . . )

The idea of surface tension seems to be a useful analogy for the experience of trying to consciously enter the Astral Plane. This interface is utterly transparent to us in the realm of dreams, but the waking act of astral ingress (some equate it with lucid dreaming) requires a willing “suspension of disbelief,” a phrase I first came across in the jargon of video-game designers but that might apply equally to tarot readers. This pliability is especially critical in the performance of spiritual “path-working” with the Major Arcana, where creative visualization is paramount.

I’ve always had grave misgivings about psychic information received via astral channels because there is usually no effort – and most likely no ability – to “vet” the source of the presumed knowledge. Diviners who rely entirely on intuitive vision don’t often question the company they’re keeping on the “other side,” taking for granted that they are privy to unimpeachable insights mainly because they received (or maybe imagined) subliminal assurances from “spirit guides,” deceased ancestors, or other ostensibly honorable purveyors of wisdom. I’m not naive enough to assume that every such contact has our best interests at heart and will invariably respect our wishes. If I thought they were being trusted implicitly to an unconscionable degree, I would rush out and buy shares in a salt mine, then offer to sell “large grains” to my peers. Fortunately, in the normal course of divination these spirits – whether they are amenable to it or not – are most often tapped for routine matters and not typically for making life-altering decisions.

It is undeniable that every tarot reading for another person exhibits a psychic dimension since it’s the “nature of the beast” when working in the subtle domain of subconscious awareness, whether in the form of the querent’s projection or the reader’s acquisition of imperceptible hints. Unless we pull our observations entirely from our own “nether regions,” we are trying to align our intuitive perceptions with what Joseph Maxwell described as the seeker’s “presentiment about his own destiny,” and in doing so retrieve valid impressions about the individual’s most probable future circumstances.

This is all highly conjectural, so we must suppress our tendency to doubt its veracity if we’re going to make a reasonable stab at prediction. Once we surmount that obstacle, the best we can do is use language that conveys an open-ended sense of plausibility, one that isn’t prescriptive but still offers actionable insights for the querent’s consideration. It is a type of imaginative “storytelling” but with a practical purpose in mind, and its inspiration often seems to come “out of thin air” and enter the cards by devious means. My favorite non-mystical description of divination is “running my mental fingers through the warp-and-woof of the fabric of existence, looking for threads of meaning to pull.” The Astral Plane is as good a source as any for this exercise in metaphysical sleuthing.