Every so often I have a customer that tests my ability to keep a straight face. I love laughing with my customers, I love making them laugh and laughing with them, but I definitely cannot laugh AT them.
Let's call her Pop Tart. In fact, Meredith was calling her that before I even got in today. She's a young girl, wants to film a music video, and was consulting with the director on my couch when I got in today. Already, that's weird, but hey "weird" as I always say, is my meat and potatoes. After checking out my space and keeping me downstairs for the first hour I was here, they went off around town to find some more locations, and I thought that was the end of it. But, right before taking off, Pop Tart needed a reading. She got a $5, and in a nutshell, asked if a Major Pop Star from a Huge Boy Band will notice her video, and if he will like it. I didn't laugh. My eyebrows raised so far up on my head, though, I think they may have moved up a few millimeters permanently.
I saw some personal drama surrounding it, and that people will criticize her, but if she stays cool, she'll be successful. She asked "you mean like his fans? Because they're really harsh on women in his life, like girls he's dating". Oh. Oh honey. In that moment, a cartoon plane crashed into a cartoon mountainside, and spiraled out into little cartoon burning chunks in my brain. Sometimes, the imagery is so fucking crisp, and so hilarious, I almost burst out laughing right there, not so much at this very nice girl, but more like at what images this reading is throwing up on my screen.
But, every customer is my most important customer. So, I took her in very much earnest, and read cards for her like I do for any one. I sincerely wish her well.
Also, my fucking shop is about to be used for a backdrop for this video? That's interesting. I can't wait to show all my friends.
10.05.2014
9.20.2014
Things have been difficult lately. I constantly second guess my role here, or the decisions that led me to where I am now. This wasn't the right year, for starting a business, for starters. I feel misled, the person who owns the shop I work out of started out being my friend, but she's not the person I thought she was, to say the least. This is a toxic environment, honestly. My space within the shop is sweet, and good, and inviting. It's just a Herculean effort getting to this space, both physically and metaphorically speaking.
Reading cards isn't easy. Reading cards in this store isn't at ALL easy. Sitting here for 6-8 hours and NOT reading cards is somehow even harder, knowing that I could be packing, cleaning, reviewing documents pertinent to the House Situation, etc etc.
I'm sticking with it, though. Here's why. When I get into work, I have a whole opening ritual, where I go around my own shop cleaning, dusting, setting things up to be pretty. I put temple bells on, over the speaker, or singing bowls, or cave chimes, and light a certain blend of incense that's designed to be attractive to folks, and give everyone that breathes it a sense of overall well being and mental good health. I cast out a metaphorical net, calling people in who need me today. I push my energy out as far as I can, in a blanket, hoping to touch someone that really just needs to talk. And, every day that I do this, I get at least one person that *really* needed a reading.
I do it for them.
Last weekend was purely horrific, but I went in Sunday and wiped the slate clean, did my usual regimen, and I saw the people that needed me. I read for a woman battling breast cancer, and I could see the end of it for her. I saw that her body was rebuilding itself and strong. I read for a woman who's abusive ex turned her adult children away from her for over 20 years, I saw that her eldest boy, the one she really thought was lost, was thinking about her and about to begin the process of rebuilding things with her.
When I'm sitting in the house, debating if it would be worth it to come in, I think of my customers. If I can help give one struggling human some peace of mind, then the rest of the bullshit falls away, and the day becomes a Good Day. Whether I make $20 or $200 that day, if I get one hug, one teary smile, one person that says "thank you, I feel so much better" Then, it really is all worth it. That's the joy that keeps me coming here every day, in spite of the toxicity that I have to fight. Or in spite of my own bad feelings.
It's rough. If I don't blast music and occupy myself singing along, on the car ride here, I tend to do a lot of thinking. Thinking is always bad these days. There's nothing comforting, there's not really a light at the end of some proverbial tunnel, Life is in constant tumult. If I get really thinking, then I start to break down, and my compartmentalization falls apart, and I become overwhelmed. It happened today as I was driving in. Thinking of my customers kept my car facing in the right direction, and kept me pushing to come in.
I know it sounds corny, but this is my calling. It's not about the money, it's about who comes to me, who I can reach, who I can help. It's a gift that I have, and I feel selfish just keeping it to myself.
Reading cards isn't easy. Reading cards in this store isn't at ALL easy. Sitting here for 6-8 hours and NOT reading cards is somehow even harder, knowing that I could be packing, cleaning, reviewing documents pertinent to the House Situation, etc etc.
I'm sticking with it, though. Here's why. When I get into work, I have a whole opening ritual, where I go around my own shop cleaning, dusting, setting things up to be pretty. I put temple bells on, over the speaker, or singing bowls, or cave chimes, and light a certain blend of incense that's designed to be attractive to folks, and give everyone that breathes it a sense of overall well being and mental good health. I cast out a metaphorical net, calling people in who need me today. I push my energy out as far as I can, in a blanket, hoping to touch someone that really just needs to talk. And, every day that I do this, I get at least one person that *really* needed a reading.
I do it for them.
Last weekend was purely horrific, but I went in Sunday and wiped the slate clean, did my usual regimen, and I saw the people that needed me. I read for a woman battling breast cancer, and I could see the end of it for her. I saw that her body was rebuilding itself and strong. I read for a woman who's abusive ex turned her adult children away from her for over 20 years, I saw that her eldest boy, the one she really thought was lost, was thinking about her and about to begin the process of rebuilding things with her.
When I'm sitting in the house, debating if it would be worth it to come in, I think of my customers. If I can help give one struggling human some peace of mind, then the rest of the bullshit falls away, and the day becomes a Good Day. Whether I make $20 or $200 that day, if I get one hug, one teary smile, one person that says "thank you, I feel so much better" Then, it really is all worth it. That's the joy that keeps me coming here every day, in spite of the toxicity that I have to fight. Or in spite of my own bad feelings.
It's rough. If I don't blast music and occupy myself singing along, on the car ride here, I tend to do a lot of thinking. Thinking is always bad these days. There's nothing comforting, there's not really a light at the end of some proverbial tunnel, Life is in constant tumult. If I get really thinking, then I start to break down, and my compartmentalization falls apart, and I become overwhelmed. It happened today as I was driving in. Thinking of my customers kept my car facing in the right direction, and kept me pushing to come in.
I know it sounds corny, but this is my calling. It's not about the money, it's about who comes to me, who I can reach, who I can help. It's a gift that I have, and I feel selfish just keeping it to myself.
6.07.2014
I haven't written in awhile, here or anywhere, I'm verging on rusty. This blog is fast becoming "observations on reading professionally" and since that's where I'm at, I guess, that's what it's about.
My space is complete, and gorgeous. The downstairs of VV is its usual disgusting mess, and my room is this precious little treasure chest upstairs. Joy loaned me her couch, which is this sweeping baroque sectional that curves halfway around my room...a total conversation piece, and a real looker. Leah was kind enough to hook me up with her mother in law, who is moving and downsizing, and I netted some wonderful pieces of furniture, including a writing desk, a half-round glass table, and some other gorgeous pieces. I'm furnished. I'll never fill my place with stuff to sell, I've had a few nominal objects, like incense burners, herbs and stones, and no one seems interested in buying anything.
I do get customers, though. My ideal amount of customers per day, I worked it out, is about 8, with a mix of small and larger readings, it would be financially perfect, and right in line with my energy level. So far, I'm averaging about four a day. Which makes it worth it to come in, but not quite profitable, yet.
Some things: I love "seasoned" sitters, the women that come in already decked in stones, positivily radiating...something, some energy. They're open, honest, and they know how to work with me for the best results.
I have one regular, she's a teenager, comes in for five dollar readings frequently. She sits there tight lipped and enigmatic. When the reading is over, I ask, as always, is everything clear? Does that make sense? She nods, and takes off in a hurry. Then she comes back. The first time I read for her, I was thinking, ok, she was a curious person, one and done. I do a lot of $5 quickies like that, or kids or couples that are in to shop, then I never see them again. But she came back, and back, and she asks a very vague question...like today it was "Family" and I read and saw some things, and she nods, tight lipped, giving me nothing, and then takes off. I like her, she's a challenge. As long as she keeps coming in, (and bringing friends, which sometimes happens), I'll know she's satisfied. Today, the family question...3 cards $5, and it pulled a LOT of shit out. I hate when that happens, because really, for five bucks, we're not going deep. But when something huge comes up there, I automatically want to help, and dig deeper. I have to really restrain myself.
I've been meeting so many excellent people, mostly women, of every walk of life, and it's completely fascinating. I love helping people. I love that they trust me enough to dig into their huge life things, through my cards. I earnestly want to befriend, and help every person that walks through my door. I've only had very few encounters that felt stiff or odd, or off.
Some other things about doing this for a living. I practice every day. I crush herbs and resins, and make incense for my shop every single day. I find myself devouring herbals and obscure books, just to learn more about everything. I do magic, literally, every day. I've become, I feel, pretty goddamned good at glyphs, and I'm mastering blending incense, so that not only is it really effective...now I'm getting things to smell good too...a real departure for me. Sure I can make an incense to purify and protect my place, but can I make it smell good? That was the challenge, making a powerful blend that doesn't smell like burning socks. I find myself with time to study schools that I never really looked at, like Hoodoo, and Vodun and all those Caribbean and South American traditions...good stuff...and palm reading. I keep trying to pick that up, too. I feel like if I master that, it'll throw open more opportunities.
I'm settling in nicely here. I've found something of a routine, and I'm working out the kinks in my schedule. I think I'm finally even over the anxiety that all the downstairs VV drama brings me.
But, I feel like no matter what, no matter where I am, this is my calling. Having this opportunity here at VV, maybe it's a giant hassle in some ways, but it's definitely shown me in a very short time that there's nothing in the world I'd rather do. If these four walls are temporary, my being a professional tarot reader is definitely my calling, and I'll move mountains to keep pursuing it, here or anywhere.
My space is complete, and gorgeous. The downstairs of VV is its usual disgusting mess, and my room is this precious little treasure chest upstairs. Joy loaned me her couch, which is this sweeping baroque sectional that curves halfway around my room...a total conversation piece, and a real looker. Leah was kind enough to hook me up with her mother in law, who is moving and downsizing, and I netted some wonderful pieces of furniture, including a writing desk, a half-round glass table, and some other gorgeous pieces. I'm furnished. I'll never fill my place with stuff to sell, I've had a few nominal objects, like incense burners, herbs and stones, and no one seems interested in buying anything.
I do get customers, though. My ideal amount of customers per day, I worked it out, is about 8, with a mix of small and larger readings, it would be financially perfect, and right in line with my energy level. So far, I'm averaging about four a day. Which makes it worth it to come in, but not quite profitable, yet.
Some things: I love "seasoned" sitters, the women that come in already decked in stones, positivily radiating...something, some energy. They're open, honest, and they know how to work with me for the best results.
I have one regular, she's a teenager, comes in for five dollar readings frequently. She sits there tight lipped and enigmatic. When the reading is over, I ask, as always, is everything clear? Does that make sense? She nods, and takes off in a hurry. Then she comes back. The first time I read for her, I was thinking, ok, she was a curious person, one and done. I do a lot of $5 quickies like that, or kids or couples that are in to shop, then I never see them again. But she came back, and back, and she asks a very vague question...like today it was "Family" and I read and saw some things, and she nods, tight lipped, giving me nothing, and then takes off. I like her, she's a challenge. As long as she keeps coming in, (and bringing friends, which sometimes happens), I'll know she's satisfied. Today, the family question...3 cards $5, and it pulled a LOT of shit out. I hate when that happens, because really, for five bucks, we're not going deep. But when something huge comes up there, I automatically want to help, and dig deeper. I have to really restrain myself.
I've been meeting so many excellent people, mostly women, of every walk of life, and it's completely fascinating. I love helping people. I love that they trust me enough to dig into their huge life things, through my cards. I earnestly want to befriend, and help every person that walks through my door. I've only had very few encounters that felt stiff or odd, or off.
Some other things about doing this for a living. I practice every day. I crush herbs and resins, and make incense for my shop every single day. I find myself devouring herbals and obscure books, just to learn more about everything. I do magic, literally, every day. I've become, I feel, pretty goddamned good at glyphs, and I'm mastering blending incense, so that not only is it really effective...now I'm getting things to smell good too...a real departure for me. Sure I can make an incense to purify and protect my place, but can I make it smell good? That was the challenge, making a powerful blend that doesn't smell like burning socks. I find myself with time to study schools that I never really looked at, like Hoodoo, and Vodun and all those Caribbean and South American traditions...good stuff...and palm reading. I keep trying to pick that up, too. I feel like if I master that, it'll throw open more opportunities.
I'm settling in nicely here. I've found something of a routine, and I'm working out the kinks in my schedule. I think I'm finally even over the anxiety that all the downstairs VV drama brings me.
But, I feel like no matter what, no matter where I am, this is my calling. Having this opportunity here at VV, maybe it's a giant hassle in some ways, but it's definitely shown me in a very short time that there's nothing in the world I'd rather do. If these four walls are temporary, my being a professional tarot reader is definitely my calling, and I'll move mountains to keep pursuing it, here or anywhere.
3.23.2014
Some quick observations about reading tarot professionally.
I was joking to Luiz about how at least 30% of reading for the public is showmanship. There's a whole art, I've come to realize about delivery. How you package the message. I can look at the cards, and in an instant, I'm like "mmhmm. got it." That's all I need. For *you*, I've got to bring that "mmhm" into language. I have to soften the blow of hard news, and deliver it as a warning instead of some kind of dire fate. If the reading is boring, I have to play it up and make it more-ish. Today, I had a lady come in for a 3 card spread and she asked me about finances, the cards literally told her to stop being a miser. Full stop. That one required a little showmanship to get through. I can't build a business on one sentence outcomes. The cards, though, they don't give a flying fuck about my business. I'm at their mercy. I do love online readings for that. I don't need to act or play anything up, it becomes very natural to communicate in print.
Showmanship on all levels. Lately, my tarot space has been under huge change. I'm getting all of Meri's crap out of my loft, and trying to claim it, paint, and set up some inventory. So, while I'm closed, I go into VV wearing my torn up working clothes, because there's a lot of vintage dirt in VV. Then my regular customers come in for a reading, and instead of wearing a dress and jewelry, I'm wearing a tee shirt with holes in it and dirty jeans. I'm comfy, but I feel like I'm not giving them my best. I need a hair cut and a manicure, too. I want my space to be beautiful and artistic, and I need to be that too.
It's happening. I'm doing this for real. With four walls, a roof, and a following. With a paycheck, and a place to go every day, and I'm doing exactly what I love. If you had told me it would happen six months ago, I would have died laughing.
I was joking to Luiz about how at least 30% of reading for the public is showmanship. There's a whole art, I've come to realize about delivery. How you package the message. I can look at the cards, and in an instant, I'm like "mmhmm. got it." That's all I need. For *you*, I've got to bring that "mmhm" into language. I have to soften the blow of hard news, and deliver it as a warning instead of some kind of dire fate. If the reading is boring, I have to play it up and make it more-ish. Today, I had a lady come in for a 3 card spread and she asked me about finances, the cards literally told her to stop being a miser. Full stop. That one required a little showmanship to get through. I can't build a business on one sentence outcomes. The cards, though, they don't give a flying fuck about my business. I'm at their mercy. I do love online readings for that. I don't need to act or play anything up, it becomes very natural to communicate in print.
Showmanship on all levels. Lately, my tarot space has been under huge change. I'm getting all of Meri's crap out of my loft, and trying to claim it, paint, and set up some inventory. So, while I'm closed, I go into VV wearing my torn up working clothes, because there's a lot of vintage dirt in VV. Then my regular customers come in for a reading, and instead of wearing a dress and jewelry, I'm wearing a tee shirt with holes in it and dirty jeans. I'm comfy, but I feel like I'm not giving them my best. I need a hair cut and a manicure, too. I want my space to be beautiful and artistic, and I need to be that too.
It's happening. I'm doing this for real. With four walls, a roof, and a following. With a paycheck, and a place to go every day, and I'm doing exactly what I love. If you had told me it would happen six months ago, I would have died laughing.
1.03.2014
So, I apparently have an apprentice. A casual sort of apprentice. Alden's friend expressed GREAT interest in Tarot. He bugs me every time he comes over to do readings for him, and of course, I do, because I love reading, and love reading for people who love to be read. So, for Christmas, I got him his own deck, and Rachel Pollack's Tarot Wisdom, for starters. I like having someone to teach, his exuberance gets me going, too. I feel like I've done him a bit of a disservice, though. When he first approached me for readings, I did single card question/answer flips. I mean, it's what I do when a kid comes and bugs me while I'm cooking dinner. Fast, casual. Unfortunately, it seems like he's treating tarot like that in general. He's read most of the book, and applies the texbook meaning to the cards right off the bat. Without really looking at them or spending time with them. He'll flip, and answer the question immediately. Like "Oh, six of wands, that means I'll have a victory."
I cautioned him to spend more time with the cards, and really focus on the imagery, the numerical value, the colors that jump out, and all the minor details. He's strongly intuitive, but he glazes over all that. I think he was trying to speed through stuff to impress me, or maybe because he felt like he was bothering me, and needed to hurry. Anyway. I'd like to sit him down in less of a rushed way, and maybe have him do more readings in front of me, and then make him write stuff down, while I'm there.
Here's my "lessons" for the day. I told him to do a daily 3 card reading. Journal the results. Read more about the history and symbolism. Practice "spreads" and the art of reading between the cards. But really the kid needs to start with the journaling. I told him, it's work. I didn't just fall into cards and become naturally good at them. I took my measure of natural intuition, and my natural quest for all things occult, and added years upon years of study and hard work, so that I have this powerful tool. So that I can casually turn cards while I'm stirring a pot of soup. So that I can tap into my intuition and read toothpicks and sugar packets. This is not how I started.
Magic isn't "magic". Magic means always having your face buried in some book, studying what's come before, so we can innovate, invent, and maybe write our own book.
I cautioned him to spend more time with the cards, and really focus on the imagery, the numerical value, the colors that jump out, and all the minor details. He's strongly intuitive, but he glazes over all that. I think he was trying to speed through stuff to impress me, or maybe because he felt like he was bothering me, and needed to hurry. Anyway. I'd like to sit him down in less of a rushed way, and maybe have him do more readings in front of me, and then make him write stuff down, while I'm there.
Here's my "lessons" for the day. I told him to do a daily 3 card reading. Journal the results. Read more about the history and symbolism. Practice "spreads" and the art of reading between the cards. But really the kid needs to start with the journaling. I told him, it's work. I didn't just fall into cards and become naturally good at them. I took my measure of natural intuition, and my natural quest for all things occult, and added years upon years of study and hard work, so that I have this powerful tool. So that I can casually turn cards while I'm stirring a pot of soup. So that I can tap into my intuition and read toothpicks and sugar packets. This is not how I started.
Magic isn't "magic". Magic means always having your face buried in some book, studying what's come before, so we can innovate, invent, and maybe write our own book.
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