A tarot reading: what is it you need to find your way forward with that book project (or whatever creative thing it is you're working on)?

You may or may not believe tarot cards are magic. I don't: I think they're a delightfully aesthetic way of accessing one's own subconscious needs. May this reading help you find yours.

Let’s pretend we’re all back in summer camp—some kind of artsy camp for teens. (I personally am visualizing the University of Virginia’s Young Writers’ Workshop, which I attended in the summer of 2000. Your mileage may vary.)

Hello. I am no longer my 37-year-old self: I am 15, and I am the token Stevie Nicks Junior in your dorm. I reek of Gap “Om” body spray. I know every word of Loreena McKennitt’s The Book of Secrets and would be delighted to sing all ten minutes-plus of “The Highwayman” either with or at you.

My skirt is long, elastic-waist, and paisley. I got it at that shop in Montgomery Mall that also sells rain sticks. (I have not heard about cultural appropriation yet.)

Oooh, and guess what: I BROUGHT MY TAROT DECK TO CAMP WITH ME. Care for a little reading?

Here’s what we’re going to ask the deck today. I asked this over and over as I shuffled my deck for you, keeping it top of mind: “how do we glow in the dark right now?”

Meaning: how do we find our creative mojo? How do we light the lantern of inspiration and flow amidst the chaos of the present moment, leading ourselves forward with vision, kindness, and purpose through these overstuffed, traumatizing, unstructured, unpredictable days? What’s it going to take to finish that book project and finish it well?

I don’t believe that crystals have magical powers. You might, though, and I do think they add flair to the proceedings. Everyone loves a pretty rock!

I am therefore going to lay out this reading as a classic Celtic Cross spread surrounded by quartz: a huge, compass-like point from Minas Gerais in Brazil; a spikey, slightly pool-blue cluster from who knows where; and a delightfully dirtbag, naturally iridescent Arkansan specimen I call The Calzone:

Now let’s turn over the cards and read what they say.