AUTHOR’S NOTE: From the day I first encountered it in 1972, I’ve followed Eden Gray’s suggestion that we can disregard asking sitters (those who “sit” for a tarot reading) to tell us their specific question or concern prior to divining for them. I tell them to silently concentrate on what they want to know while shuffling the cards and, if they eventually feel comfortable about opening up, we can discuss it during and after the reading. This often requires interactively “peeling back the layers” of the plot to get at what matters most to the individual.

Over the years my rationale has solidified into an understanding that the cards will “speak their piece” no matter how much or how little I know in advance, so all I have to do is “read ’em as they lay,” and this approach also dispels any concerns about my preconceptions or subjective bias seeping into the narrative, which is one of the downsides of having had extensive experience with reading on similar topics in the past. The “multiple phases” of the title can occur under different scenarios (at least three, and there may be more I haven’t experienced).

The first one (and the inspiration for this essay) involves the type of reading my clients want. If they are seeking an answer to a specific question, I will proceed as described above and begin my interpretation in a general way by explaining what each card means in a traditional sense, and then invite dialogue with the sitter about what my observations might mean within the context of their present circumstances. This usually leads me into further elaboration that will move in a less structured, more impressionistic direction. The reading develops from literal and analytical to mystical and intuitive as its boundaries expand.

If they have no particular question in mind, just a “life-area” of interest such as a broad focus on romantic or career opportunities (a fact that will usually emerge when I ask them if they have a definite question), I will have them concentrate on that objective and I’ll steer the reading toward it, once again prompting for validation or repudiation as we work our way through the spread. In this case the story takes on a more fluid dimension from the very start since not all potential meanings will fit comfortably within the working model, and I will have to adapt as I go along.

Should the querent want only an open-ended “general life-reading” (as in “What does next month look like for me?”), I will instruct them that a minimum of concentration is needed during the shuffle but a more rigorous in-process analysis will be necessary to form a meaningful picture of future conditions. This scenario is the most work for the reader because it requires diligently “turning over rocks to see what crawls out from underneath” and the client may be hard-pressed to arrive at the “Aha!” moment when it all makes sense. I once characterized my technique half-humorously as resembling a buzzard circling an expiring roadkill, waiting for its cue to swoop in. This approach will usually benefit from a larger spread like the Celtic Cross.

Another major instance of “shifting gears” occurs when my initial insights fail to register with the sitter in a coherent way. I developed this method of inquiry when working with the court cards, but it is applicable to any card with which the individual can’t immediately connect.

For example, a practical interpretation of the cards (as in “This is likely to happen and here’s how you can handle it”) may draw a blank from the sitter, who can find no common ground between my statements and the reality they’re facing. When that happens I move on to a more psychological slant on the subject.

The second stage of this evolution examines the attitudes and behaviors the seeker should either adopt or avoid in addressing the issue. Comments of this type will often strike a chord where a more pragmatic foretelling finds no traction in the querent’s estimation of the affair. If I still don’t score a hit, I will venture on.

The third mode of adaptation involves a more impersonal, universal or spiritual translation of the influences presented by the cards. This is most often equated with external forces entering the matter that can neither be avoided nor fully deflected, so they must be “worked through.” I don’t usually get this far in my analysis because one of the previous versions will have taken hold with the sitter. When I do, the reading becomes more philosophical than actionable, and must be deciphered into language the individual can process in constructive ways.

The final occurrence of “shifting gears” is one that takes into account the “complexion” of the entire spread. A straightforward take on the cards interprets them individually, in series and in combination for the purpose of drawing up a narrative that outlines their singular and interactive nature. This is what the average person considers to be a “tarot reading au naturel,” and most readers don’t look past this level

But there is another important factor that is worth contemplating: that of an abundance or absence of various types of energy within the spread, some of which may be complementary while others will be working at cross-purposes. This can appear in the form of elemental, numerical, hierarchical and oppositional (upright or reversed; positive or negative) preponderance or deficiency, with the former usually being more evident in a reading.

Symbolically speaking, If I have a spread that is full of relatively low-key, aimless cards that seem to be going nowhere but most of which are associated with the element of Fire, they will at least have the honesty to feel uncomfortable about their anemic progress, while if they are all Water cards they may simply wallow in it. A surplus of low-numbered cards could convey “all talk and no action” while a host of high-numbered cards may well “run out of gas” before the end. Lots of trump cards can indicate a number of competing high-level agendas; an overage of court cards could spell disharmony, disagreements and jockeying for position; too many pip cards (and too few of the rest) might incur lack of direction, ambition or motivation.

A shortage of any energy is self-explanatory. No trump cards in a reading suggests that a big-picture or long-range perspective is missing, although there may be little need for one in the matter at hand. An absence of court cards could signify loneliness but also freedom from interference. Few low-numbered pips implies being clueless about where to start, while a dearth of high-numbered pips hints at being unable to find the finish line. Insufficient active, positive and assertive cards (Fire, Air and odd-numbered pips) could impart neglect of commitments and obligations, and scant passive, negative and receptive cards (Water, Earth and even-numbered pips) could mean having a “tin ear” when it comes to appeals for sympathy.

It has been argued that this investigative routine is unnecessary when we can cut right to the chase by simply asking what the sitter wants out of the reading. It’s a fair question, but my personal response is “Where’s the fun in that?” There could be something else bothering the client that they may be loath to admit to a complete stranger, and my preference is to offer them initial anonymity in this regard. The reading will almost always coax it out of them in due time, so I exercise patience as we close in on their underlying reasons for consulting the cards. Furthermore, something legitimate may surface that completely surprises them, capping what I think of as a “mutual voyage of discovery.” My goal is to deliver an experience that is both enlightening and enjoyable for both of us.