Spent a lovely evening with some good friends, reading their tarot and sipping multiple pumpkin spice lattes. Sometimes I wonder though, am I reading their cards, or reading my own? I've always been of the opinion that there is nothing at all magical or mystical about the cards; they act as entry points to personal energy fields, and those fields are actually what are being 'read'. But information, impressions, vibes if you will, are always processed and translated through the person who is actively receiving them. The counseling is as much for the reader as they are for the person being read. What the recent readings mean for me, I still don't know.
It's a very strange process. After a session, I can barely recall what I said; general impressions are there for a short time, and distinct memories only return during a later session with the same person. I'm sure a person of the fundamentalist Christian variety would attribute that to some sort of demonic possession, but I honestly feel that when speaking to others about spiritual topics, I am able to tap into a greater, more 'cosmic' knowledge. There is no desire to have followers, no desire to control anyone's life, merely an overwhelming NEED to assist others in their process of losing fear and claiming what Oprah would call their "authentic selves". Maybe that's what I'm here for - something a bit removed from guidance, and a little closer to support. A distributor of information, not the source of said information.
Or maybe it's just time for more adorable cats.
Yes, that's it. Nevermind.
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