I wish it had a better beginning. Then again, not all stories do, and imagine how dull this recollection would have been had it started on a tranquil note.
See, was hung up over a guy - something I never dared to write about publicly up until today, because, frankly, I don't even know where to start. It was the first time I ever confessed my feelings to anyone, the build-up and aftermath of which were as convoluted as they were chaotic. Consequently, that soon snowballed into me finally discussing my sexual preference with my family. And do take note: I wrote "discussing", not "disclosing". The latter never really felt necessary, so my coming out was anything but ceremonious. I just mentioned it in passing.
Now, some might wonder: Why did I wait until the cusp of my 30s to take such leaps? That entails another sprawling saga, to be honest. And, besides, this isn't so much about my orientation or that period of toxic infatuation. It's about what transpired after.
The Initial Downward Spiral
It's not like I wasn't exposed to tarot before. Back in 2007, my then-work colleague, Juno, read me with his Osho Zen deck on a Friday night out. That's when I realized that it isn't strictly fortune telling, as the vast majority would tend to connote. Instead, it's an articulation of one's inner truths and a reflection of one's current energy. It doesn't end with predicting future events; it's also about achieving resonance. Suffice to say, I was fascinated.
Then came the not-so-startling discovery that it runs in the blood. My late maternal grandmother, Lola Perla, was said to have the gift, and Tita Helen, Mom's youngest sister, would spend her Saturdays reading in a quaint little nook in a Pasig mall. I can only surmise why the rest of the clan downplayed those factoids back then. Chock it down, perhaps, to culture and stigma.
The easy access proved precious in Summer 2013, when my interactions with Said Guy intensified. Thanks to his knack for speaking in riddles and cliffhangers like "I have something to tell you, but I can't", my mind teemed with questions. As such, he became a regular subject of query. All I had to do was holler and the insights were mere draws away. Regardless of deck or reader, the cards were one in saying: Said Guy did care deeply; his callousness was just a front. My mistake was staying transfixed on just that: the validation. Not on how I was treated post-confession.
In hindsight, I wouldn't read 28-year-old me. Simply put, I was at my most emotionally vampiric. I'd seek sessions about the same topic in weeklong intervals and I'd throw the most trivial questions. I must have adhered to every "How Not To" in the book, starting with clinging on to the readings as textbook truth and obsessing over intangible outcomes. I approached the practice like a Magic 8-Ball or plucking petals from a daisy. At the time, I couldn't blame my circle from eventually keeping me at arm's length. At some point, I had to face the monkeys alone.
Skill Unlocked
On the upside, the frequency of the prior sessions, both physical and online, enhanced my knowledge. The more readings I had, the more familiar I became with each card and how every combination of which conveys a message. My learning accelerated when Tita Helen gave me my first deck, a laminated Rider Waite reprint, as her early Christmas present. "You have the gift too, you know", I remember her saying. And just like that, I gradually became a reader myself.
Not long after I started my test run, I came across John and Caitlin Matthews' The Steampunk Tarot in a bookstore. Much as I only went there to window-shop, I knew I couldn't leave the store without it. It's become my go-do deck since, to the point I nicknamed it "Kuya" because of its stern but caring interpretation.
I was in the employ of the Home Network when it all began. Naturally, my workmates were among my initial clientele. When a former teammate burst into tears mid-Celtic Cross, that's when I realized, it was no longer mere casual. As her final card turned out to be negative, I placed my hand on her shoulder as her sobbing lingered, with hopes of softening the blow.
It was a simple breakthrough. I had elicited an emotional reaction for the first time. That's when it dawned on me, that after months of near-pestering my go-to readers for instant comfort, it was time to give back. A more amusing development was when a floor-mate approached my cubicle one early morning to introduce herself: "Chuckie, right? I'm <name withheld> from Finance. They say you read cards?" "Uhm, let's meet over lunch?", I replied.
When said guy severed ties with me in Summer 2014, the practice helped me pick up the pieces. I guess it was how I invited healing energy, by honing my new-found skill. Not bad for something Said Guy referred to as "tarot sh*t".
In 2015, I started the daily ritual of drawing one card each day, which I've expanded to three cards since 2016. More than a daily forecast, it's a personal journaling activity to gauge how each day synchronizes the drawn cards' message. I haven't missed a single day since.
Word of Mouth
Come to think of it, I never identified as a psychic. I neither have mutant telepathy like Professor X or Jean Grey nor do I get visions a la That's So Raven or Phoebe Halliwell. Somehow, however, I embraced the value of discerning good energy from bad and listening to my intuition. That's all there is to it, as my peers would also attest. Simply pay attention to what you initially feel about a person or a situation and listen to that (if not act upon it). That became my guiding principle then and it still is now.
I guess what helped curb the imposter syndrome was the volume of repeat clients. Top of that list is Mom, who's clearly the reason my prowess sharpened. See, it requires an enhanced level of descriptive and story-telling ability when you conduct a session for a lawyer. And I sure was glad I'd outed myself to her already at that point. With tarot now part of the equation, the communication lines were more open than ever.
Friends would seek follow-up sessions from time and time, not because of the readings turning out true (again, not the point), but because of the insights they gained from the conversations. It's our actions that ultimately determine our direction, after all, not images on printed cardboard. The cards simply yield messages.
Eventually, my regulars also introduced me to their respective circles. That, in effect, broadened my network. Before I knew it, I had inadvertently and unofficially established a club-of-sorts, with friends who are either long-practicing readers or have become readers themselves.
I've lost track of the number of decks I've amassed over time. While some were additional purchases, many others were either hand-me-downs or gifts from friends. Kuya, however, continues to be the "team leader". Such was my frequency of use that I've owned three copies of the deck. Now that I've decided to use a different deck every month, here's hoping the fourth copy doesn't wear out fast.
Expansion
I never intended to go professional. At first, it was more a way for me to meet kindred spirits, and, with luck, forge lasting and meaningful bonds. But what started as a clandestine hobby escalated as years progressed. The more sessions I conducted, the more "energy exchanges" (AKA fees) became mandatory. I also became more conscious of both the energy I give out and, conversely, receive.
Before I knew it, the practice helped with our monthly bills. It sure came in handy when I languished between regular jobs in 2016 and again, more recently, when the pandemic struck. And much as the preferred set-up was to face the client, the restrictions forced me to devise virtual methods. As a result, access was made a lot easier, and logistics became a non-issue.
By mid-2021, it had become a full-blown weekly routine. That, however, came to a pause after my surgery later that year. More so, when I returned to work at the turn of 2022. The hiatus, however, wouldn't last long. By mid-year, I started receiving inquiries again. I was compelled to resume sessions; erratic schedule be damned.
The biggest break, however, came in 2023, when I was invited to do a weekly tarot segment in a radio show. In a way, it was how the Home Network kept in me their radar – by finally giving me a platform and, moreover, putting me on the forefront. It was a rewarding stint, up until the show's sudden cancellation last October. Ironically, I barely took in clients during those 10 months. My focus went to getting my career back on track. Now I can say it somewhat is.
The Decade in Hindsight
Looking back at the last 10 years, I still can't fathom how this happened; how I wound up in this peculiar route, and how a once open secret overtook my teenage aspirations and became the thing that gave me a break. It's the very premise of The Fool card at work. Sometimes, you just disregard the risks, ignore the barking naysayers, and surge ahead, because that's where the thrill begins.
And It's true. Sometimes, you must endure the worst version of yourself to appreciate the person who'll emerge after. And I can boldly say, I do like myself better now – much as there's still a ton of work to be done. It's a reassuring thought, as I reach the twilight of my thirties.
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