Who I Am and What I Actually Write About

I write about tarot. But probably not the version you're thinking of.

Not predictions. Not "this card means you'll meet someone new" or "beware of the dark card." I don't read tarot to find out what happens next. I read it because it's one of the most efficient tools I've found for a specific kind of self-examination, the kind that's hard to do with words alone.

Let me explain what I mean.

Most of us have a very sophisticated relationship with our own thoughts. We can analyze, reframe, rationalize, postpone. We can construct convincing internal arguments for almost any position. Language is extraordinarily good at organizing experience in ways that feel like resolution, without anything actually resolving.

Tarot interrupts that.

When you pull a card and look at an image, something happens before the analysis starts. You have a reaction: recognition, resistance, something that shifts. And that reaction carries information that the verbal mind often manages to route around.

That's what I find useful about it. Not the mysticism. Not the tradition. The interruption.

I came to tarot through psychology, not spirituality. I was interested in how people make decisions, why we repeat patterns we can clearly see in ourselves, how we confuse fear with intuition when they feel almost identical in the body.

Somewhere along the way I started using cards as a prompt, a way of asking "what's actually present right now?" instead of "what should I think about this?" Those are different questions. They tend to produce different answers.

Over time I started writing about what I was noticing. Not as advice, not as instruction, just as observation. What this card does in practice. What happens when people sit with it. What the images are actually pointing at, beneath the traditional meanings.

That's what you'll find here.

I write about individual cards: what they mean, what they ask, when they tend to appear and what situation they usually reflect. I write about spreads and readings, about the psychology of self-reflection, about the moments where tarot and therapy and philosophy are all asking the same question from slightly different angles.

I don't use esoteric language if I can avoid it. I don't write in a way that requires you to believe in anything to find it useful. Skeptics are welcome. People who have been reading tarot for twenty years are welcome. People who are simply curious about self-awareness and reflection and how we actually work, also welcome.

What I'm not: a fortune teller, a spiritual guide, someone who'll tell you that a difficult card means something terrible is coming.

What I am: a writer who finds tarot genuinely useful as a thinking tool, and who has spent a few years trying to articulate why, in plain language, without the mystical packaging that puts a lot of people off.

If any of this sounds interesting, stick around. I write regularly: about cards, about the practice of reflection, about the quieter aspects of self-knowledge that don't fit neatly into productivity frameworks or self-help formulas.

The cards are the starting point. The territory is much larger than that.

Find me on Medium as well :)