DOES IT REALLY WORK?
Could fortune-telling cards be an untapped resource for self-care? As more women than ever turn to tarot to find relief, one writer tries her hand at spiritual healing
One writer asks if tarot cards can reduce her anxiety
In 2019, I quit my desk-bound media job for one that allowed me to travel. I’d been confident in my decision, but as soon as I accepted the new job, the panic attacks began; I couldn’t shake the fear that I’d ruined my career. Panic is familiar to me. I see a therapist for my anxiety, and I practise research-backed remedies: yoga, running, you name it. But during these two weeks after handing in my notice, the usual tools weren’t working to dial down the anxiety that gripped my mind. So, I decided to try something outside the realm of reason to see if that would help.
That something was, well, tarot. I’d seen increasing numbers of wellness types using it as part of their Insta-documented self-care regimes, and now – both influenced and desperate – I copied them. You can easily pick up a pack online for about £12. The basics are as follows: you draw one card (or several) and use the suit, symbols and imagery to suggest information or a story, then apply those lessons and conclusions to your own life. The great thing about tarot is you can’t mess it up. Your practice is what you make of it, and your interpretations of the cards are just that: yours. An example: pulling the High Priestess card, which depicts a woman sitting with her hands in her lap, is generally interpreted as it’s time to reflect and trust your instincts in a situation.
When I gave it a try, the cards I pulled – a Nine of Swords and an Ace of Pentacles – could, according to the booklet that came with my pack, roughly be translated to: you’ve been given an opportunity you’ve been waiting for and you’re reacting with melodrama and imagining the worst, when what you need to do is chill and accept this gift. Of course, my loved ones had counselled me with the same wise words and I’d basically ignored them. But when the cards ‘told’ me, it felt more like I was coming to my own conclusions – my rational brain cutting through the panic to offer sound advice.
Clinical psychologist Chloe Carmichael argues that if you, like me, chime with the practice, tarot can be an effective form of self-care – and even help you manage actual conditions. ‘Some people with anxiety or depression can get really stuck in their heads, so any practice that stimulates thinking from a different perspective has the potential to be helpful,’ she explains. And it turns out the spiritual element serves to enhance, rather than detract from, the effectiveness of the practice. ‘In studies, even when you control other factors, spiritual connection is generally associated with greater wellbeing,’ she adds. When I practise tarot, the images remind me I’m connected to a larger human story. It’s definitely now part of my toolkit for managing my mental and emotional health. I love the ritual of taking time out of my striving, productivity-oriented daily routine to sit down, shuffle the cards and let their illustrations nudge me towards acknowledging how I’m feeling.
Of course, there’s a caveat. ‘Spirituality is not a replacement for medical care,’ affirms Carmichael. And even I, a card-carrying tarot convert, realise the practice isn’t something you should rely on for making major life decisions. But if you’re looking for a guide for self-exploration or to better understand your emotional landscape, or even simply for stress relief, that’s when the real magic can happen.