Morality is a complex thing, though this fact is lost in an age in which debates are reduced to exchanges of snarky remarks on social media. Morality is complex because it deals not in what is but in what ought to be, and what ought to be is invisible to the eyes. How ideas about what ought to be came to exist has kept philosophers and scientists occupied for thousands of years.
And this may account for a good deal of the blind desperation with which people seek something or someone who will tell them how to act. For those of a speculative mindset, reaching definitive conclusions is less a priority than exploring possibilities.
But most people feel the urgent need of external guidance. So some give themselves over to group leaders, others adhere rigidly to an ideology or religion. And those with a more woo woo view of life turn to oracles.
But divination is not a good judge of what’s morally right. If you want proof, when was the last time you laid out a spread that gave you advice that was based on moral principles completely incompatible with your own?
Having the stamp of approval of whatever projection we may make onto pretty bits of cardboards is not that good of an idea. It is a surefire way to delude ourselves and it can rob us of our agency and of our responsibility to think for ourselves.
Divination is good at telling us what is, or was, or has a good chance of being in the future. What ought to be is for us to make up our mind about.
When it comes to divination, theory can only get you so far. The best way to improve your reading skills is to learn the basics of a *valid* system and then start reading.
For most of us, we are our own first querents, and that is a problem. I don’t have a 100% accuracy record when reading for others, but I barely reach 60% when reading for myself, especially if I’m invested in the topic. It is not just a matter of wrong interpretation, which can and does happen. I am more and more convinced that sometimes, when we read for ourselves and we are not perfectly at peace, we tend to get readings that reflect what we think rather than what is happening or will happen.
Furthermore, the tendency that many people have to start obsessively putting questions to the cards just to see if they say something vaguely understandable (which doesn’t mean true) is dangerous, and can get us in a warped frame of mind.
I know that for many, especially coming from certain societal backgrounds, reading for others can be a big step into the unknown, but I would advise anyone to start reading for some sympathetic friends or relatives (and when I say for them I mean in front of them, not asking questions about them) and then to graduate as soon as possible to readings for people we don’t know or know little about.
I don’t have too many friends, but they do a good job of talking about me to their friends and to their friends’ friends, which is how I get my supply of test anim-ehm, querents. If you start reading for your friends and ask them to spread the word the same will happen to you.
The cool thing about reading for people we don’t know is that it is so much easier than you might think. Divination DOES work! And divining for someone when there is no chance of you knowing the information in advance is very impressive for them and very satisfying for us as diviners. It will build your confidence much more quickly than torturing the cards about your own mental dramas. Plus, the oracles always seem to be much clearer and much more crisp when I divine for strangers.
One thing I would advise is to be as scientific as possible: record the question, the reading, your interpretation and the results. Don’t think you cannot build your vocabulary because the only right answer is the one offered to you by your intuition. 99% of intuitive readers are terrible, and what they call intuition is not actual intuition: it’s their stupidity echoing in the empty chambers of their mind. Be systematic and slowly you will gain experience.
I had a nice exchange with a visitor, who asked how we can work with the readings we get wrong, so that we can improve our skill.
The first thing to take into account is that this is not always possible. We may say that we are accurate because 80-90% of our assertions end up being true, but that is calculated on those assertions for which we get feedback, and we don’t always get feedback.
Here, too, there is a lesson, I think: all we can do is be as good as we can be at the particular moment in which the reading takes place. If we think an interpretation is viable, there is no point in withholding it out of fear that we might get it wrong (unless the topic is sensitive and we choose to stretch the truth to avoid hurting the querent) because we might not get another chance to say it.
What happens after the reading is that some querents simply forget about it. Too many querents think that a reading needs to come true within a couple of weeks, when in fact it often takes months, so after the initial excitement (or dread) they simply move on, and they may only be reminded of it when it comes to pass, if at all.
Other readings are correct, but the querent thinks that’s just regular business, so they don’t bother to tell us, while other readings are wrong, and the querent either rubs that in our face as publicly as possible or they don’t talk about that anymore, thinking we are beneath them.
Then there’s the readings for which we do have feedback, which can be very positive (“everything was spot on, and you’re also kinda cute”), very negative (“it ended up being the exact opposite of what you said”), or mixed (“this and that came to pass, but this other thing not yet”).
Even the feedback we get needs to be taken with a grain of salt. Positive feedback can sometimes be a mix of wishful thinking and the desire to please, while negative feedback can sometimes be a mix of delusion (you said he wouldn’t call and he didn’t, but I know he loves me, so you’re wrong) and desire to hurt.
So, what do we do with the feedback we are given, if it is negative? The reasonable thing to do, in my opinion, is to check the spread (I usually take pictures and/or notes) and see where we might have screwed up.
Was there a point in the spread where the cards were a bit ambiguous and we forced the reading in the wrong direction? Was there a huge, smacking-your-forehead blunder? You simply cannot see what went wrong? Take notes on the reading. If you don’t think you can formulate a definitive theory on what went south, don’t. Leave things hanging. Add ‘maybe’ and ‘possibly’, and see if there are other readings you did on similar issues that can help you.
Even when going back to an older spread, we should never force it to say what the feedback said, if we just don’t see it: firstly, because, as I said, even feedback that exists must be treated with caution; secondly, because there is a tendency to want to read details into the reading that we would never have been able to guess beforehand, and that’s not divination.
Broadly speaking, the feedback we get, positive, negative or mixed, should be treated as raw data that needs to be studied carefully. That’s where a lot of growth can take place. Be especially thankful for mixed feedback, as usually it is the most honest kind: we rarely get 100% of the things right, either in our description of the past/present or in our predictions. As fallible humans, getting many things right many times should be enough to satisfy us, especially since we are doing something most people consider impossible.
In my latest reading, an interesting phenomenon happened: I had to partly go beyond the basic rules of the oracle (in this case the tarot) in order to interpret its message. Specifically, I had to get past the rule that only the Wand figures represent the querents and accept the Queen of Cups as an alternative version of the subject in question.
There is always a reason why something happens, and in this case I believe the possible reasons were 1) that I was asking about my mother, so the cards described her not only as the protagonist of the reading (Wand) but also as mother of the person asking the question (Cup) 2) the reading was, in part, about her still viewing herself as wife, even though she is widowed, so not only is she the protagonist (Wand) but also a wife (Cup).
I am pretty sure this sort of things (that is, the need to apply the ground rules with discretion) can happen in different respects with any deck. In fact, I think it can happen with any oracle. The late Robert Zoller often showed that good astrologers need to be guided by what the chart is saying, which often requires one to start from recorded knowledge and then stretch that knowledge to cover each individual case. William Lilly, possibly the most important horary astrologer in history, often repeated that one must “mix discretion with art”, that is, understand the rules and then apply them intelligently.
The thing is, divination is not an assembly line type of work: it’s a Hermetic art (where the word ‘Hermetic’ is understood in its classical sense, not the Kybalion-style crap). If even the rules of biology need to be interpreted smartly by doctors in order to cure the human body, then how much more flexible do we need to be to interpret a device whose permutations can give us the blueprint for anything that could happen?
Anything goes vs informed pragmatism
My understanding of divination is a never-ending journey. The way I currently see the rules of divination is as posts along the way in a thick snowstorm. If a post has been put somewhere, that means someone was there before and has figured out something. We do not discard such knowledge lightly, unless the contingent reality of our current situation makes us prefer another route.
This approach is very different from the ‘anything goes’ non-method used by so many, which is almost expected and even bragged about, largely due to the widespread rejection of rationality in our milieu. Too many people who dabble into esoteric subjects today seem to believe that throwing overboard logic is the first step on the journey. In part this is due to mistaken orientalist fantasies, in part to a post-modern Zeitgeist that sees all structures as dispensable, reactionary dead weight only good for restraining us– who wants to be restrained?
The way I currently see rules in the esoteric arts is neither reactionary nor revolutionary. It is an attempt at appraising reality through lenses as simple as possible and as complex as they need to be, a kind of pragmatism that is informed by the past but future-oriented in looking for concrete solutions to concrete issues.
As far as divination is concerned, it is a language, but it is a language with no native speakers, and for which no Rosetta stone exists, except the tentative hypotheses of those who have grappled with the language before. We don’t need to vest them with our superstitious awe, but we do owe them a serious, dispassionate look at the conclusions they have reached before either accepting them as they are, discarding them or expanding them with discretion.
I received a really sweet message from a fledgling occultist who wants to pick up some form of divination, but has been put off so far because they have been convinced that they don’t have “the gift”, as they put it, by which I think they meant intuition.
It is a fact of life that a certain predisposition can give you a head start. My high school chemistry teacher could explain to me every single step of how to balance a formula, and I would sort of understand it, but then, left to my own devices, I would still get it wrong. I certainly didn’t have the gift for it. But that doesn’t make chemistry hoplessly outside of my reach. If I had persevered instead of throwing my hands up and saying “oh well, at least I can read Plato in Greek” I would have definitely made some progress. It’s just that in life you’ve got to pick your battles, and I knew I wasn’t the next Marie Curie, and I did like Plato, so Plato it was.
The same holds true for the various esoteric disciplines. The kind of gift that is required to practice them is not different from the predisposition toward high school subjects. Yet there is this widespread belief something more is needed. Well, it isn’t needed.
Oracles, i.e., the various forms of divinations, are languages, and like all languages they require study and practice. The idea that all it takes is intuition is a result of the loss of understanding for occult practices that resulted from the scientific revolution, which confined anything that wasn’t understandable in terms of the rising empiricism to the realm of irrational superstition.
This new designation was either consciously or unconsciously accepted by those practicing divination, so divination became something irrational that requires non-rational tools to be practiced. This, in spite of the fact that, wherever you look around the world, and even in the West before the Enlightenment, divination is considered to be primarily made of rules to be studied and applied with intelligence.
True divination, like all parts of magic, is hopelessly technical. It has nothing to do with following your heart, much less your intuition. Speaking of which, actual intuition is a much more sacred thing than the “I can’t prove it but I know it’s true” that many make it out to be. “I just feel this is how it is” is how cults get started, which is probably why so many people who describe themselves as intuitive are so up their own asses and so full of unconscious prejudices.
That is not intuition: it is personal bias subtracting itself from scrutiny. Actual intuition is the prerogative of the great saints, and only to a lesser extent of people who are on a spiritual/esoteric path. It is rare and cannot be commanded. It is the result of brief moments of perfect union with the source of all, and for that reason it comes from outside the limitations of the individual vessel. What many call intuition are simply personal hunches that they cannot trace back to any line of reasoning.
And mind you: hunches ARE a thing. They can work, and sometimes they can help. They can also fail. Many people seem to believe that ‘intuition’ is never wrong. And fair enough, the intuition I talked about is in fact never wrong. But personal hunches CAN indeed be wrong, in the same way that a logical inference can be wrong: hunches, like reason, the senses and all other channels humans use to gather information, are fallible. The fact that many think their hunches are never wrong is simply the result of confirmation bias: if they concentrated on how often their hunches let them down on a daily basis they’d be crushed.
Another use of the term intuition is simply a cooler way of describing the facility that comes from experience. The experienced doctor comes in, eyeballs you, listens to a couple of your complaints and knows with a high degree of probability what is wrong with you. The experienced mechanic listens to the purr of your car and knows immediately it will break down in two weeks if you don’t do something about it.
That’s also not intuition, although it is far more valuable than what average psychics do. It is simply the result of having gone through the same process so often that you can skip some of the steps, at least consciously. It is the intellectual version of muscle memory.
So, can anyone become a diviner? Let me answer with a question: can anyone become a chemist? Well, no. If we all could, the human race would go extinct. But the only thing keeping you from studying chemistry is your decision and perseverance. So is with divination.
In many supernatural movies about exorcism, the priest trying to free the victim needs to discover the demon’s name. This is actually founded in (part of) the real practice of exorcism and does have its roots in the magical belief of the power of names. For instance, there are certain practices in folk magic in Italy that require the magician to go to the christening of a child whose name translates to the effect he or she wants to achieve.
But belief in the power of names is not just found in Italy and it probably goes back to the most ancient and elemental relationship that humans established with the things around them in their attempt to dominate them. Traces of this fact are found in the doctrines of many Greek philosophers, sophists, poets and playwrights, and I have also found some similarities with Chinese Daoist literature. A wonderful fictionalized account of this belief is found in Ursula LeGuin’s Earthsea saga, which anyone interested in magic should read, in my humble opinion.
I am not one who seeks to psychologize occultism, although I believe that psychology is not at all a useless discovery and can be part of a modern magus’ training. I think that the attempt to reduce occultism to psychology is just as misguided as the attept to condemn anything that modernity has brought us as a deviation from an ancient splendor.
That being said, as someone who practices divination for others, there is also a certain sense in which naming works in a cathartic way. Most of the people that consult me are rather upfront about their problems, especially since I don’t ask for money and therefore feel no guilt in telling them to go sit on a cactus if they are trying to waste my time.
But people can be reticent about their issues for a variety of reasons, and malice is not always the motivation. Among the many possible reasons is the fact that people sometimes feel the need to have their demons driven out of them by someone outside of their regular field of experience.
Having someone discover our particular demon’s name without us feeding it to them can be a powerful and cathartic experience, because it smokes the demon out of the dark recesses of our subjective experience and into the light of objectivity, where it can be addressed as a definite and therefore limited issue, rather than being consumed by its overwhelming lack of contours.
Not every divination session calls forth such existential experiences, nor should we as diviners try to turn each session into a catharsis. We are not therapists and our duty is not to give people advice, although advice can certainly be given if required. Our role is to provide information, whatever that may mean in the context of each particular reading. For this reason, our language and that of our divination tool needs to be earthly, concrete and objective.
But sometimes informing the querent can mean gathering the diffuse knowledge that they already have festering inside of them and turning it into useable information by giving it its proper name.
As a diviner, I have no objection to making predictions about what is likely to happen. I see the current taboo about the future as a mix of delusion and ignorance. Our current culture comes at the tail-end of the myth of the self-made man that has animated much of our recent (and even not-so-recent) past. This myth has strongly influenced the Zeitgeist of the current occult wave, which started at the end of the XVIII century and continues, though declining–putrefying, even–to this day.
The occult developments have in turn trickled down into pop spirituality and have fostered the belief, now extremely popular, that all it takes to change one’s reality is to tune into the wavelength where one’s delusion corresponds to objective facts, and that nothing about one’s identity is more than a socially-conditioned self-identification that can be simply deconstructed and cast off like a cloak in favor of something else as the whim of the day dictates.
This implies the idea that the future is a completely blank slate and that therefore divination can only be used as a tool for self-reflection on the present to facilitate this process of self-making and self-remaking. Unfortunately, the self-reflection in question regularly resolves itself into simply telling the querent what they already think or would like to think of themselves, but packaged in empowering language within a context in which they assume they are communing with divinity. “Wow, the Gods think exactly the same as I do! How wise!”
Anyone who lives in actual reality and has spent five minutes reflecting on it know that this view of existence is demonstrably false (although, like many false things, it contains faint traces of truth). Each of us has a path in life that is unique, containing specific challenges and opportunities, possibilities and impossibilities. Divination is good at detecting these patterns and their likely outcome in the near future.
Still, I find that there is value in employing traditional divination in exploring the present. The language of traditional divination is frank, crisp and concrete, as it comes from a deep understanding of the fact that, if what is above is as what is below and what is within is as what is without, then what is above or within cannot be a metaphysical soup of saccarine inanities, but must correspond to the complex interplay of pleasure and sorrow of the below and without.
In other words, if a tiktok psychic might tell you that you always end up with the wrong guy because you have a soul contract that stipulates that you need to come into contact with your inner queen, traditional divination is more than happy to let you know that it’s because you are a basic harlot who chooses basic idiots.
This is not to say that there is a god or a spirit judging the querent through us or through the oracle: it is merely a dispassionate look at your life from a dispassionate observer on a simple example of causality. It also does not imply that we, as diviners, shouldn’t learn to speak with tact and diplomacy. However, the employment of actual divination techniques allows us to shed light on the querent’s present in terms that might actually be helpful to them.
We never leave a divination session unaltered. The knowledge we gain changes us necessarily: me knowing about X is not the same as me not knowing about it. If X is in my hands, then knowing about it can give me some power over it. If it isn’t in my hands, then knowing about it gives me awareness of the limits that define my unique path through life. That’s growth, too.
Some weeks ago I got asked why I only present readings I did for myself or others, and don’t do interactive readings which may be useful to more people. The question was asked in good faith and in good faith I answered. But I thought it made for a nice article. As usual, I will be brash and abrasive, because I’m not an easy person, but I mean no disrespect to any particular individual.
Horoscopes. In reality, horoscopes are more the invention of journalists than of astrologers: astrologers just unwittingly lent themselves to the farce. Horoscopes are predicated on the fundamental misunderstanding that the place the Sun occupies at birth automatically has something to say about us. This is a relatively modern invention in the long history of astrology, and anyone who thinks about it seriously for even five minutes must conclude that, in order to say anything at all about one twelfth of the world population purely based on their month of birth, one needs to water down everything one says to the point that nothing is said at all except playing into the belief that everyone is adorably quirky (oh those Aries boys who ram through everything, oh those Gemini girls always being nutty). That some astrologers, realizing this, feel the need to add Moon signs, Rising signs etc. into the equation does not improve matters at all: a fundamentally silly idea multiplied by itself remains silly.
Taroscopes. Taroscopes are an even more modern invention. They substitute or complement the reading of a sun sign chart with a broad card reading (usually tarot, hence the name). They started popping up on social media some ten years ago as a way of feeding the sludgeflow of nonsense that is required to keep the algorithm satisfied. I am pretty sure they started out as a silly game, then some saw that it was good for business. I am even aware of established readers who haughtily denounced taroscopes for the travesty of divination that they are, only to bend the knee once it was clear the current flowed in one direction only.
Interactive Readings. Interactive readings are the height of silliness, and the perfect exemplification of the words ‘internetslop‘. Choose between Deck One and Deck Two and listen to why he doesn’t deserve you because you are such a special, intuitive an free-minded queen. Choose between the butterfly and the butter knife and listen to why all the narcissists in your life hate you for being such an authentic empath (somehow those buying into this nonsense are always surrounded by narcissists, yet they are never narcissists themselves). That’s the essence of interactive readings as a further development from taroscopes.
The reality is that divination is already hard as it is, being an imprecise and complex art due to the amount of factors to be considered and the fallibility of humans in considering them. Trying to extend it to a whole swath of people who randomly happen to bump into your video or post is beyond ludicrous.
In attempting to justify this to themselves, some readers are eternally caught between two stances: “if you bump into it, it is meant for you” and “if it doesn’t resonate it’s not the right message”, logic being the first thing to fly out the window once someone decides to be a brave and empowered little witch. Of course you’ll always find someone who responds to an interactive saying “I chose the butterfly. That’s exactly it, that’s me to a T”. And those are the unlucky ones, because they get roped into a world of self-delusion and meaningless hype: the universe seems to be constantly cooking up something big for you, according to interactive readers, so you better stick around for the next video!
So yeah, that’s why I stick to traditional readings.
The way we do things, the way we say things, matters. The same apologetic arguments we find in Blaise Pascal’s most feverish and haunting pages would be enough to bring a doubter to conversion, yet when coming out of the lips of a cheap street preacher holding a sign, they are often received with distrust, when not with disgust.
The way we do and say things matters in occultism as well. The old texts of magical tradition, and even some old accounts of rituals and supernatural occurrences, are full of the frenzy-stillness dichotomy: some things seem to happen in a state of ecstasy, others in a state of torpor.
My path, both as diviner and as occultist, has been informed by the pursuit of stillness more than by that of frenzy. All the teachers I’ve had the honor to learn from have always required of me to reach a state of calm rather than one of heightened overexcitement.
In divination, there is always a moment of randomness required in order to break the barrier between what the personality thinks it knows and what is actually the case. Arranging the cards (or geomantic points, or whatever) consciously in the order we wish they would come out may teach us something about ourselves, but very little about the reality of a situation. Randomness ensures that our self-consciousness doesn’t interfere with the processof allignment between oracle and reality.
Whether through a frenzy or through calmness, randomness introduces itself into the process by bypassing the limits of our personality’s structure, with its limits and its biases. The choice between the “inspired” moment of frenzy and the “deadened” moment of calm rests on a partially different view of the relationship between individual and whole, between ourselves and the divine.
Ecstasy, which is the process of leaving oneself behind, occurs in both cases, but it occurs differently. By achieving a drunken confusion one simply rams through the walls of one’s personality, achieving contact with what is outside of it. By stilling oneself, one reaches the point within one’s core where individual and divine coincide.
Obviously, once each option is brought to an extreme, it bleads into its opposite. Pure frenzy becomes absence of limits and therefore absence of what is limited, and its movement resolves itself in calm. Pure calm is delivered from all difference from change, so it coincides with pure frenzy.
When a person sits in front of a diviner, a number of preconceptions have often already been set off in their mind, and sometimes even in the mind of the diviner.
We must always remember that, nowadays, many people don’t visit an astrologer or card reader by chance, nor (usually) as their first go-to choice. Often, they have made a deliberate choice to step outside of the norm, for better or for worse, meaning that they have found the norm to be lacking in its ability to provide certainty. For many, therefore, the underlying presupposition seems to be: “I accept to take part in something that operates outside of consensus reality as long as it gives me the certainty I can’t find any other way.”
As diviners, we instinctively know it, and we may feel pressured to play into this presupposition or swim directly against it, thus falling into the opposite error.
Some diviners may feel they need to provide the querent with the unreasonable all-knowledge that only God can gift them with, only to end up providing uncertain information with unreasonable confidence. Others may push in the direction of vague self-help: We may not know if Mr. Right is behind the corner for our love-starved querent, but her divine feminine or other buzzword can still derive important lessons and “aha moments” from reflecting on the whole situation.
Mae West said it best. Picture by Sophie Charlotte on Pinterest
There are many dimensions to divination, some of which are indeed very deep. However, as far as our relationship with querents is concerned, we are simply an added means of intelligence-gathering, which, like all tools at our disposal, may fail for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is the diviner’s limited knowledge (our knowledge is always limited).
“But I came here to have undebiable, clearcut answers,” one might argue. To which I anwer: Tough titties! If you want undeniable clearcut answers shake a magic eightball. Divination is, quite literally, a divine language, and is not always so cleacut, either in itself or due to our limitations, or sometimes simply because the situation isn’t clearcut in itself. This is especially the case for issues involving human emotions.
As a rule, honesty is the best policy. I believe in voicing my procress to the querent, and the querent has a right to as clear an answer as I am capable of giving them, but we should never feel pressured to give them more certainty than we can truly see in the oracle.
It is perfectly acceptable to talk to the querent about our doubts or about the possible interpretations we are seeing in the oracle. For instance, it is ok to say “it seems like x, but y is also a possibility, while z seems less likely and w is out of the question.” It is also acceptable to say “these cards seem to point to such and such being the case, but I’m uncertain, as this other interpretation might also be right”. More often than not, the querent will say that both interpretations apply, and when this is not the case they can help us disambiguate the oracle.
Ultimately, the fact that divination has no legitimate place in our society implies as a consequence that, because our society believes itself to be held together by reasonable rules and processes, then divination must be either complete poppycock for delusional idiots or it must be capable of unreasonable fits of prowess in other to justify its existence in spite of its current ostracism.
This in turn creates expectations and hang-ups on both ends of the divination process that need to be analyzed and clarified to avoid them subconsciously ruling our practice. Doing so can make divination much more valuable and much more enjoyable.
