why tarot? my journey to becoming a professional reader

Dear fellow seeker,

First and foremost, I want to thank you for visiting my blog and spending time hbjghjn (sorry, cats lol) - and spending time reading the things I’ve written. It means a lot that you’re here because I devote many hours to creating content, and there is no better feeling than the idea that someone equally passionate about spirituality and creativity is reading it. I do hope you’ll find something here that interests you as this virtual space continues to evolve.

Today’s post is a little different from my usual deep dives into tarot and/or art. Instead, I’d like to share, on a more personal level, what it is that draws me to tarot as a vocation and why I am willing to commit to this unconventional path, which is a time-intensive investment that is so full of uncertainty. 

As I write these thoughts down, I have to laugh a little because it almost feels as if I’m doing a very public tarot reading for both myself and the audience about my life’s purpose. That’s not what I intended with this post, but finding purpose is definitely a big part of why I do what I do.

In fact, it’s not uncommon for querents to approach me for a reading because they want to find their greater calling. You can read more of my thoughts on that here, but for now, I’ll just say that I think one of the reasons this question is so tough to sit with alone is because making meaning is one of the hardest things we do as humans. There is so much in our world that feels meaningless and void of any answers—war, genocide, natural disasters, starvation and poverty—that trying to assert any sort of sense within the natural order of something so much bigger than ourselves can feel like a gargantuan undertaking. It’s a challenge to the ego and to any idea of Self.

So with that in mind… What makes sense to me? And why do I find purpose in tarot? The answer, I think, is fairly simple. But before I get to that, I’d like to offer you a small glimpse into the old me and the road that led me here to begin with.

TLDR: I was always a nerdy lover of foreign languages. My one dream in life, from the time I was in junior high, was to live abroad, meet people from other cultures, and learn as many languages as humanly possible so that I could become a badass interpreter for the UN like Nicole Kidman in “The Interpreter.” So to make that happen, I Googled my way to various teaching jobs that allowed me to use my qualifications as a passport.

Also TLDR: It wasn’t until after I finished my Master’s in linguistics and started my career as a university lecturer that I realized linguistic research was not the path for me. (Yikes.)

But what I also realized later, among other things, was that the thing that excited me most about teaching and interpreting was never actually the transferral of information through language. What I enjoyed most about both modalities was getting to know other people.

As a teacher, I loved the first day of class when I would meet each student and ask why they were taking a particular course to begin with. They were just so interesting. Each and every one of them. Their ideas, their goals and aspirations for their futures beyond school, their sassy little attitudes. I loved listening to their stories and I treasured those precious, fleeting moments in which the facade of academia vanished so that we could talk about something personal for a minute.

When I reflect on this now, it reminds me of a time at the beginning of my linguistic career, when I was an intern at the interpreter’s office at a courthouse in Washington, D.C. One of the interpreters I met there, a young man from Ethiopia, told me that he enjoyed his job because it was a process in which he had to “become one with someone.” To understand what a person meant and then travel between languages, he explained, was a pursuit that felt very spiritual to him.

This has always stayed with me, especially at times when I was questioning my path and figuring out how to use my natural communicative and intuitive abilities in more emotionally satisfying ways. I didn’t realize it for many years, but I think, looking back at our conversation, that this is what tarot has taught me: how to meet someone halfway in that nebulous space between flesh and spirit.


Reading tarot is an attempt to make the barrier between minds vanish in order to witness someone’s eternal substance, if just for a second, and it’s a way of creating a small container of space in which two souls can share a wordless conversation before exploring it through language in tandem. Rather than an A to B process of delivering facts and information, I view tarot as an exploration of our emotional environment and a reflection of our deeper values. And because of this, it’s a practice in creating meaning.

The act of creating meaning is, in many ways, a mechanism for survival. We need to find meaning in our own little worlds because this is what cannot be stolen from us even when everything around us is in upheaval. Viktor Frankl wrote about this in Man’s Search for Meaning, which formed the foundation of his psychotherapeutic methods and has echoed throughout history in the words of great writers and the works of great artists.

As someone who lives for creativity and finding forms of expression for my inner landscape, I believe that art, spirituality and meaning-making are inseparable. I have also come to believe that, while meaning is in many ways a deeply individual pursuit tied to one’s own beliefs and personal truth, there is an element within the act of creating meaning that can only become real when shared outside of the Self (if the Self even exists, but that’s another issue). Otherwise, why would artists ever release their creations to an audience? I think we need opportunities to share our truths with one another in order to be able to realize things about the world and how we understand our own place within it.

Something that startles me as I type this all out is how my conversation with that interpreter feels as though it took place yesterday. And yet, here we are, lightyears away from that moment as I withdraw from my memory of the fluorescent lighting in the office and bring awareness to my fingertips, remembering how incredibly ephemeral life can feel. I realize the whole “if this were my last day on Earth” trope is a bit tired and cringey, but the more I live with intention, the less cheesy it feels. So, truly, if I were to draw my last breath tomorrow… I think my soul would be content having lived a life of chasing those barrier-less moments, trying to give them form through language and knowing that I survived with others through artworks, conversations and little moments of witnessing each other.

This is why I am willing to try to make friends with unconventionality and uncertainty—because I cannot think of any better way to spend my time here.

I hope that tarot brings value to you, whether it’s a lifelong companion or a step in your journey, a solo journey or a reading with me—may you find what you are seeking. I wish you a satisfying life, filled with purposeful moments and good company.

With love,

Emily (& Spooky 🐾 )