There is an old aphorism that any activity worth pursuing is “more about experiencing the journey than about reaching the destination.” In other words, the things you learn along the way are often more valuable than what you find at the end of the road. This truth is abundantly obvious in the art of tarot divination; I’ve been doing it for nearly fifty years now and like to say that I learn something new about the human/tarot interface almost every time I read for someone else. I once calculated the number of possible permutations of any ten cards in a Celtic Cross spread out of a total population of 78 and came up with something over 2,000,000. It’s unlikely I’m going to find the bottom of that well anytime soon.
Of course, the person seeking a reading is more interested in the outcome of a prediction than the process by which it is derived. But the reader’s satisfaction often lies in finding just the right metaphor or turn of phrase to illustrate the situation in the most compelling terms for the client’s edification. Crafting the perfect reading becomes an end in itself as we work to sharpen our skills and improve the precision of our observations. As a professional reader I accept payment for my efforts, but my secret inspiration really lies in feeding my love for the pursuit of knowledge (and hopefully wisdom) that is not apparent on the surface. All of the complex techniques and arcane considerations I bring to bear on the act of divination serve only one purpose: to squeeze more useful information out of a random pattern of cards on the table. It becomes more a forensic exercise than a mystical quest. To the self-avowed empath and intuitive, this may seem like a rather arid path to enlightenment, but it is “meat-and-potatoes” to the strong Scorpio personality.
What I’m saying is that, although I offer my services to others in the interest of helping them better understand and cope with their circumstances, and in turn receive the gratification of having contributed to that goal, my true motivation is unabashedly self-fulfilling. I’m enthralled by “turning over rocks to see what crawls out from underneath,” and the querent’s subconscious can be a fertile field (and sometimes a “can of worms”) for probing via the divinatory arts. The trick is to turn the reading into a “mutual voyage of discovery” in which each party receives what they seek.