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Let me be brutally honest right from the start: Do not, under any circumstances, buy a new deck of Tarot cards for the mere sake of aesthetics or a passing fancy if you are not intimately accustomed to seeing, hearing, and feeling inexplicable noises, cold spots, and fleeting shadows at all hours of the day and night. Seriously. This isn't a hobby; it's a potential roommate situation from hell, and the rent is your sanity.
As an avid Tarot reader—and a reluctant spiritual landlord—I can tell you with absolute certainty that the shiny, plastic-coated cardboard deck of cards, with its perfectly painted cartoons, nestled inside that small, shrink-wrapped box you just purchased from the store, did not come alone. And if, by some divine fluke, it was alone when it left the factory, rest assured, it won't be for long. Before you even manage to tear open the cellophane, that deck will find a companion. Often, more than one. These aren't just cards; they're spiritual real estate, and something is always looking for a free lease.
The Initial, Brutal Warning: Your Deck Is a Spiritual Tinderbox
You might think you’re just buying a tool, a pretty piece of art, or a gateway to self-discovery. Oh, you sweet summer child. You’re actually purchasing a spiritual beacon, a homing device for anything floating around in the ether that fancies a new hang-out spot. That inexplicable flicker in your peripheral vision, the whisper you almost heard when no one’s home, the sudden chill that has nothing to do with your thermostat? Yeah, that’s your new deck sending out invitations.
Why do they come along? Is it the energy of the factory workers who packaged them? The collective human intention poured into their creation? Or simply the fact that a deck of Tarot cards, by its very nature, is a conduit for energy and information, making it an irresistible magnet for discarnate entities looking for a solid connection? Whatever the reason, the moment you bring that deck across your threshold, you’ve basically opened a spiritual Airbnb without an occupant screening process. And sometimes, your new guest comes with spectral baggage.
If you are foolish enough—or brave enough, depending on your level of masochism—to go this route, then heed my dire warning: Before you do ANYTHING else, learn how to cleanse. Go online, scour forums, ask some AI how to cleanse your space and your tools, and you’ll be guided down a rabbit hole of spiritual hygiene you didn’t know existed. Seriously, stop reading, go learn, then come back. We'll wait.
Basic Warning Instructions to Heed Below: The Paranormal Etiquette of the Undead
Alright, you’re still here. You either didn’t cleanse, or you did and now you’re experiencing mild poltergeist activity and want to know more. Excellent. Let’s continue, shall we? You need to understand the rules of engagement with your new, ethereal houseguests.
Your New Found-Friend May Be a Monogamist or a Polygamist. (Cleanse.) Some decks attract one primary entity, a singular spiritual guide who bonds fiercely with the cards and, by extension, you. This "monogamist" might be possessive, demanding your attention, and not taking kindly to other decks. Other decks, however, are spiritual swingers. They invite a whole spectral crew – a polygamist free-for-all that turns your quiet home into a bustling spiritual frat house. The implications for your personal space, and sleep schedule, are dire. This isn't just a cleansing; it's a spiritual background check.
Once "Married," They Don't Divorce. (Start Cleansing Viciously!) Forget about separation agreements. Once united with a deck, these spiritual entities don't pack their bags and move out easily. They’re like Penguins – once bonded, they’re in it for the long haul, until the reader voluntarily departs from the deck (e.g., passes it on or gets rid of it) or, well, departs from this mortal coil entirely. This isn’t a fleeting fling; it’s eternal spiritual matrimony. I suggest you stop reading right now and start cleansing viciously. Or invest in a spiritual lawyer.
You Can Put the Decks "Away," But That Doesn't Mean Your New Besties Are Gone. Thinking you can just tuck your "haunted" deck into a velvet bag, shove it into a drawer, and forget about your new, unwanted roommates? Adorable. They don’t divorce from the deck, remember? That simply gives them more places to hide. They conceal themselves anywhere and everywhere – behind the curtains, inside your fridge, whispering from your shower drain, perhaps even subtly influencing your thoughts from deep within your own subconscious – just waiting for you to come close to their beloved cardboard home. Keep cleansing, viciously. Perhaps even while you sleep.
The Ghosts Can Be Anyone. (Ask Questions!) The spiritual entities connected to your deck aren't all benevolent spirit guides. Oh no. Your new-found-friend could be anything from a Betty Crocker type, helpful and comforting, to an Axe Murderer with a penchant for cold spots and unsettling whispers. It could be a Comedian, making your lamps flicker in time with your jokes; a Homeless spirit, just grateful for a warm place to exist; a Child, leaving toys in odd places; an Adult, a Woman, or a Man. We just don't know who you're inviting in. This is precisely why you need to ask specific questions when you're new to a deck. ("Got New Deck" ) Figure out who (or what) you're dealing with before you're swapping recipes with a serial killer. (I never said to stop cleansing.)
These "Uninvited" Guests Demand Respect. L.O.T.S. O.F. R.E.S.P.E.C.T. Whether they’re helpful, mischievous, or downright malevolent, these entities are spiritually connected to the deck of cards and your energetic space. And they should be treated with L.O.T.S. O.F. R.E.S.P.E.C.T. Why? Because disrespect leads to poltergeist activity. It leads to bad vibes. It leads to things falling off shelves. It leads to your coffee tasting vaguely of regret. Disrespecting your spectral squatters is like poking a sleeping bear with a stick: ill-advised. Cleanse, cleanse, cleanse… scrub the walls if you have to. And maybe your soul too.
They Need a Spiritual Guide (Or Just a Manager). These energies don't just randomly transmit information; they often require a spiritual guide, or perhaps just a competent manager, to communicate to you via the cards themselves. This is why proper cleansing and setting intentions are paramount. You want the helpful, insightful entities filtering through, not the noisy, chaotic ones. I cannot stress enough, Cleanse, Cleanse, and Cleanse. A few suggestions for keeping the communication lines clear and the unwelcome spirits out: using sage, palo santo, crystals, sound baths, or even commissioning an actual psychic to do a house blessing. Because you don't want the Axe Murderer ghost giving you bad stock tips through The Hierophant card.
Living with the Uninvited: The Daily Hauntings
Once a quiet home turns suspiciously noisy, or your objects start playing hide-and-seek, the deck of Tarot cards has new "friend(s)." Yay, you! Perhaps they came pre-loaded with a friendly ghost, a helpful spiritual guide, a guardian spirit, or even an angel (unlikely, but we can dream). Whatever the case may be, welcome them with extreme caution and care. (O M F G, Cleanse.)
The Subtle (and Not-So-Subtle) Signals: Your new houseguests will communicate. A sudden inexplicable cold spot in a warm room? A flickering lamp? A faint whisper on the edge of hearing when you're home alone? Or perhaps your carefully stacked deck just topples over for no reason. These are all subtle hints that your ethereal roommates are present and accounted for, probably judging your interior decorating choices.
The Post-Reading Protocol: Before and after every single reading, it is crucial to thank the spiritual guest for giving you insight. This isn't just good manners; it's a spiritual closing of the energetic loop. Don't just dismiss them like bad waiters. "Thank you for your service, now kindly vacate my immediate vicinity." (Don't forget to cleanse.)
They Need a Break, Just Like People. Just like any overworked employee, these guests need a "break" from doing their duties. These ethereal entities will let you know when to leave them alone, and trust me, they will. This might manifest as unexpected fatigue, unusual irritability, or, more directly, your cards literally falling out of the deck and refusing to stay put. Heed their warnings. (Cleanse all four corners of your room, closets, and under the bed too.)
Cleanliness is Godliness (or Ghostliness). These guests do not appreciate messy homes. Clutter provides more places for them to hide, to accumulate stagnant energy, and generally wreak havoc. Keep your reading area, and preferably your entire living space, clean, tidy, and energetically clear. And, of course, Cleanse some more!
When to Call the Exorcist (Or Just the Trash Collector)
Sometimes, despite your best efforts at cleansing, respectful communication, and maintaining a spotless spiritual Airbnb, you get a genuinely problematic guest. If the entity (or entities) connected to your deck starts causing truly bad vibes in your home—persistent nightmares, inexplicable arguments, constant feelings of being watched or drained, or turning your appliances on at 3 AM to make toast—go right ahead and show them the exit door. And then, get rid of the cards.
There is a way of doing this ethically and safely, without accidentally unleashing a poltergeist on your neighbor's prized gnome collection. Heed caution if doing so, and please, ask a reputable source (or, failing that, AI) for advice on how to properly dispose of a spiritually attached item. And then, of course, a final, thorough, vengeful cleansing of your entire home, your aura, and perhaps even your traumatized pet.
Please, for your sanity and the sanity of anyone living with you, get to know your cards, and their spectral occupants, first before reading to yourself or to anyone. Your cards are not just paper; they are portals. (Click here for more information on how to handle a new deck and how to introduce yourself to them.)