When I went full-time in my tarot business in 2015, I was scared.
And really, really determined. So determined, in fact, that I deleted my resume to send a message to the universe (and myself) just how serious I was about making this business work.
But mostly, I was still scared.
Like, really, really scared.
So scared that I didn’t even tell my mother what I was up to until I’d six months had passed. My mom was old school, born during the Great Depression, and thought working for someone else was the Holy Grail of goals.
I knew she wouldn’t approve. But also, I didn’t want to hear “I told you so” if my business didn’t take off.
So I worked really, really hard to make sure that didn’t happen.
And in the process, I ended up working way more than I needed to.
The pace I was working at wasn’t sustainable. For the first two years of my business, I worked almost every day of the week.
That work wasn’t always with...
One thing that tarot readers have in common is how much time we’ve spent developing our skills.
It’s not unusual for spiritual practitioners of all types to spend years training. Many of us consider ourselves life-long students of our craft, always learning and going deeper into esoteric studies.
It’s also not uncommon for us to invest heavily in programs, courses and trainings over the years. If we can’t always afford to take a class, we make up for that in books, blogs, podcasts, and more.
Of course, we know it’s not really about the monetary investment behind a skill set that adds value to their work.
That comes from practice, experience, and ability. Which often is gained from the sheer amount of time, energy, and practice that goes into learning and then integrating acquired knowledge.
There are a lot of amazing tarot readers out there who are walking around with priceless spiritual knowledge within them.
But when it comes to getting their work...
When I started my tarot business, I was determined never to go back to the 9-5 I’d left behind.
After working for eight years in the charitable sector, and hustling my days away as a freelance journalist in the years before that, I was tired.
It wasn’t just the nature of the work I was doing that had worn me out.
It was everything else on top of it, too. Errands and chores felt like they were chasing me. As soon as I finished one thing, something else needed to be done.
I was also pursuing a career in creative writing at the time and working on my writing as often as I could.
And I was doing tarot on the side, reading at parties and for friends, and starting a newsletter to build my network.
Instead of feeling like I had evenings and weekends to relax, my downtime became just as busy as my workdays.
I was always trying to catch up to myself. While my friends and family were getting together on weekends, I was sitting at my computer, writing.
Which doesn’t sound so...
Sometimes the projects I take on keep me in knots.
Again and again, I questioned myself:
Is this wrong, or right?
Am I making a huge mistake?
Am I deluding myself?
Is this a complete waste of time, or does someone actually need to hear what I have to say?
This is the emotional rollercoaster that comes with talking about money.
And in spiritual work, money gets weird.
The roots can run deep and stem from a range of beliefs and feelings. Some spiritual practitioners, including tarot readers, feel guilty for charging for their work. They aim to help as many people as possible, burning themselves out in the pursuit of their labour of love rather than creating a fair exchange of energy.
It doesn’t help that in this industry, there are plenty of potential clients who are happy to take advantage of guilt-ridden, people-pleasing practitioners. Have you ever heard someone say that it’s wrong to charge for tarot readings because diviners have been “given a gift from...