AUTHOR’S NOTE: I was recently accused by someone in the online tarot community of being an elitist gatekeeper when I voiced my doubts about the mystical drivel that too often passes for professional guidance in the social-media marketplace. I’m too thick-skinned to feel the urge to wage war against those who take it upon themselves to correct my allegedly benighted opinion, but I find it regrettable that we can’t have a civilized conversation about questionable content that definitely feels “off” without someone becoming offended over the perceived insult to their pet practices or their sympathies for others who share their mindset.

The more spiritually self-impressed the detractors are (and it isn’t hard to spot, their language gives them away), the more shrill and less tolerant they seem to be. Maybe they’re afraid they’re going to be called out like the Emperor who has no clothes. Believe me, from a metaphysical standpoint I shudder to think what’s underneath. I receive a stony silence when I quote P.T. Barnum’s entrepreneurial arch-rival, David Gannon: “There’s a sucker born every minute.” Either they never heard of P.T. Barnum (not unlikely, and I know they haven’t a clue who David Gannon is since historical erudition doesn’t run deep at the social-media level of the tarot world) or they just take silent umbrage at the inference. But that’s enough ranting for now (and by the way, I’m not really a prick, just a concerned observer).

Back in the 1980s I explored the Lower Astral Plane as part of my magical work, mostly through path-working and scrying in the spirit vision, and I also spent some time with Edwin Steinbrecher’s Inner Guide Meditation. This experience taught me to be wary of some of the denizens of that realm, which is also the portal for contacting “spirit guides” (who ideally engage us in the Upper Astral unless they’re “slumming”), deceased ancestors and other disembodied entities, not all of whom will have our best interests at heart. Like Forrest Gump’s box of chocolates, “you never know what you’re gonna get” when you poke your nose where it may not be welcome.

Consequently, when I perform a tarot reading, I prefer to remain grounded in my own experience, knowledge and instincts (aka intuition), and to distrust anything that floats in on the psychic tide as being of uncertain origin and pedigree. That doesn’t mean that I entirely ignore epiphanies, but I would rather have them tied to an identifiable source that has served me well in the past.

The tarot cards are a feast of symbolic insight, and I find that I don’t have to look beyond their encoded intelligence for the inspiration I seek. While it can be argued that occultists don’t know any better than mystics whether the Astral Plane even exists, the premise goes back to the angel-infested “sub-lunar” region of the Medieval philosophers, while presumed access to amiable discarnate mentors seems to have been a 20^th Century outgrowth of “pop” metaphysics that has roots in angel-pandering. Around a year ago I wrote a more detailed essay on both subjects based on my studies at the time that is linked below for those who can’t get enough of my analytical outlook.

There is a substantial population of diviners who do nothing but read the cards mystically, with no reliance on any kind of traditional wisdom or core knowledge. I’m highly suspicious of the psychological safety of this practice for both the reader and the sitter, not to mention skeptical of its legitimacy. I don’t believe this is card-reading at all, it is merely intuitive grooming of the suggestive impressions that well up in the practitioner’s imagination, and it is vulnerable to the bias of subjective navel-gazing.

Mystical divination often links to the scenes on the cards via free-association, but for the most part it seems to be tenuous, freestyle guesswork that is being passed off as spiritually-informed wisdom triggered by glimpses of foresight in the imagery that are then attributed to the diviner’s numinous “sky-pilots.” I put it to these presumptive “light-workers” that, if you can’t vet your ethereal contact in a conclusive way, how do you know it’s reputable and isn’t just laughing at you behind your back? Because it told you so or gave you a “sign?” Good luck with that.

There is an insouciant naivete to this scenario that is troubling, particularly because it often has the aim of counseling equally uncritical clients about their life’s circumstances and potential future. If I’m going to take that route, I will go to a full-fledged medium who is seasoned in the techniques (and attendant risks) of channeling and not to an amateur psychic who has become convinced that “spirit guides” are the key to deciphering the mysteries hidden in the tarot cards. I wince every time I see them mentioned.

While the ingenuous tyros’ intent to empower their clients may be honorable, I submit that their supersensory output is not the kind of elliptical advice they should be visiting on the public, and it’s likely that no amount of “clearing” in the form of meditating, praying, chanting, deck-tapping, candle-lighting, crystal-waving and incense-burning is going to prevent them from receiving eccentric astral misinformation.

As I see it, tarot-reading is a solemn calling that can have life-altering consequences if taken seriously, and not a parlor-game or social “happy-hour” pastime for the idly curious or romantically befuddled. I will take a wise decoding of a card’s recondite implications by a disciplined interpreter over a visionary, seat-of-the-pants fabrication any day. When it comes to dining at tarot’s bountiful table, my attitude is “Bring on the main course, hold the woo!”

No Man’s Land: Thoughts on the Astral Plane