AUTHOR’S NOTE: I’ve never aspired to be a tarot “influencer,” although I have a modest population of followers and a reasonably robust number of daily views, neither of which runs into the thousands. Considering the narrow demographic I’m courting, I’m content to serve those who stick around.
My formative years with divination were built upon face-to-face group activities, where we could air opinions, sit for lectures, compare notes and discuss techniques in a welcoming atmosphere. Remote social-media engagement has pretty much tossed that aside in a frenzy of “instant gratification” since, from what I’ve seen, most people are seeking immediate enlightenment rather than offering their own insights. To the experienced practitioner with online roots in the now-defunct Aeclectic Tarot, it feels more like babysitting than intelligent discourse.
My personal niche in this arena has been forged around free dissemination of what I’ve learned over 50+ years of practice, and I wouldn’t begrudge any serious student access to it by demanding payment, unlike many accomplished purveyors of such specialized wisdom. I’m not scuffling for an income so I can afford to be generous with my time and expertise. I write this blog mainly to satisfy my own urge to communicate what I think I know after decades of experience and also to try putting to rest some of the more outrageous myths that defile the diviner’s art with their mystical irrelevance that is more charming diversion than essential ingredient. I’m partial to the investigative attitude toward crime witnesses of Jack Webb as Sgt. Joe Friday in the 1950s TV series Dragnet: “Just the facts, ma’am.”
I’ve written about those persistent myths more than once in the past and won’t belabor the subject here. Suffice it to say that they keep popping up in the online community with the unfortunate effect of hijacking the flow and deflecting more productive debate. I’ve tried broaching a few substantive topics but mostly I just “hear crickets” in response. It could be said with justification that the “tarot IQ” of too many participants mirrors the fourth-grade reading skills of the majority of high-school graduates; that’s not just mean-spirited sniping from a curmudgeonly critic, it’s a self-evident fact that needs no rebuttal as confirmed by the constant refrain of “I’m totally new at this stuff, but . . .” I have neither the time nor the inclination to be a personal mentor, so I’ve been edging away from involvement.
Lately my blog-post interaction has not been quite as moribund as it was for years, but I would say it is still anemic. One of my more forthcoming followers has offered the observation that I’m intimidating to many newcomers so they don’t feel comfortable contributing. As I referred to in a recent blog title, “consider the source” of both my perceived severity and my preference for scholarly persuasion. Aleister Crowley asserted that he wasn’t writing for the novice; for the most part neither am I, and if I can raise the sights of even a few beginners I will have accomplished what I set out to do. Despite appearances to the contrary, I’m not a fire-breathing dragon with a taste for newbie flesh. They only have to stay with me and perhaps spend some time mining the nine years’ worth of material in my archives. There is something there for every level, although many of the ~2,900 essays are more technically advanced.
I plan to continue what I’ve been doing for as long as I can, aided by the numerous metaphysical works I read and contemplate. I feel that there is a place for this kind of “disambiguation” in the world of tarot when so many people no longer approach books on their own initiative, preferring the “talking heads” of YouTube who, it must be said, have an unknown pedigree and may only be “legends in their own mind.” Anyone with an internet connection can become an instant expert to those who know even less than they do. (In fairness, there are some kind, competent people doing this, but their generosity too often takes a back-seat to income generation even if they don’t admit it.)
In my knowledge-furthering efforts aimed at elevating the consciousness of relatively uninformed tarot neophytes, assuming I do it right and don’t push a private agenda, my illumination becomes theirs by “reflected light” as I make an honest attempt at translation. At least I hope it’s viewed that way as I walk the fine line between arrogance and modesty.
