AUTHOR’S NOTE: There, I’ve said it again: I’m hooked on creating and using positional tarot spreads. Of course, those who believe tarot reading should be entirely open-ended and unstructured will never agree with me. Intuitive interpretation won’t tolerate many strictures, but in my opinion it also doesn’t inspire a lot of confidence in the dependability of its vision. It’s entirely too subjective to be trusted implicitly, so I don’t buy into the practice as my go-to method of divination and use it only as an adjunct to a more disciplined approach. (Warning: “deep thought” ahead!)

A tarot spread turns random inputs into measurable outputs. It resembles a variable-speed gearbox in that its ratios are fixed but can be “stepped” up or down within reason, while everything that revolves within it is spinning at different velocities, and the torque it produces will vary within a defined range depending on the demands placed on it. (In tarot-reading terms, that end-product would be a function of the context.) The pattern provides internal organization and a discernible sphere of operation so the cards pulled make sense within a concise and credible matrix of meaning. (I warned you!)

In less fanciful language, it brings order to chaos. Well-crafted spread positions ensure that the narrative stays on track from beginning to end while still allowing enough “breathing room” for intuition to leave its mark. It reminds me of the creative writer’s “toolbox” with its words, phrases, sentences and paragraphs all tied together with grammar and syntax (unless you’re the next James Joyce). There is an inherent logic to a good spread that is transparent in use, identical to the way that accomplished writing seems effortless.

Personally, I wouldn’t want to make life-altering decisions based strictly on the fables clever diviners (myself included) pull out of their “nether regions” unless the content is poured into a vessel that lends it definition and a frame of reference beyond just trying to narrowly answer the question. (No “bathroom humor” here, please! I do know where stuff from the “nether regions” normally winds up.)

Arriving at a serviceable reckoning of potential events and circumstances is obviously the goal but, as I see it, gaining a broader understanding of the reasons behind the projection is just as important as the single-pointed conclusion. If I’m going to accept its veracity, I expect to see a coherent “story” leading up to the denouement, and this is where competent spread design shines.

I view each spread position as a “signpost” on a roadmap pointing the way to the next milestone on the seeker’s journey. This is particularly true of spreads like the Celtic Cross that so many people “love to hate,” but it is a perfect example of form and function dovetailing in a way that leaves little to the imagination. (For the record, Waite’s original version is inherently flawed, so I’ve adapted Eden Gray’s more compelling design for my own use.)

Psychic readers will “cry foul” here because this is precisely what they are trying to avoid, but my suspicion is that too few of them know what they’re dealing with when they throw their mind wide-open to the influence of spiritual entities that betray uncertain intent and temperament. Due to this vulnerability, I find the whole “spirit guide” premise more than a little fatuous because it encourages an irrational psychological reliance on unvetted subliminal impressions.

Like a skeptical “Mr. Rogers,” we might well ask “Can you say gullible?” (In its defense, Tarot de Marseille author Enrique Enriquez did acknowledge that reading the tarot is inherently an “irrational act.”) When we are trying to decipher the cards in a reading, this kind of intuitive crutch can steer us far wide of the destination that would have been well within reach if we had stayed on or near the path offered by a formal spread.

As professional readers we must ask ourselves whether our sole objective is to appease our mystical preferences or whether we aim to provide substantive guidance that our clients can bank on. I recognize that the two aren’t mutually exclusive, but they can be miles apart in practical value and shouldn’t be confused as the same thing.

It begs the question “Who’s driving the boat, the reader or the sitter?” I submit that it’s the querent’s reading, not mine, and my only role is to make the cards they choose intelligible, not spoon-feed them every last scrap of innuendo I can squeeze out of my fevered brain.* An effective spread will furnish an economical framework on which we can both hang our insights and then sort them out together. Very little time is wasted in trying to puzzle out vague hints.

*As always, I must add a caveat here that my observations apply only to face-to-face contact with my clients. Remote readings by email, text, voice, video, etc. where the sitter has no direct interaction with the cards is another long-running target of my skepticism, and the subject of numerous posts that I won’t recap here.