I’m a fortune teller. Want to know your fortune?


I had just come off an amaz­ing teach­ing oppor­tu­nity and expe­ri­ence at The Tarot School’s Read­ers Stu­dio. I was gifted the chance to deliver a study group on Lenor­mand car­tomancy.

My ses­sion was set for Sat­ur­day evening. The last night of the con­fer­ence, right after the for­mal ban­quet (I wore a dress. And high heels. I looked hot. I digress). The con­fer­ence may have been about tarot, but I had long sensed this shift in the meta­phys­i­cal tide. I started learn­ing and then cre­at­ing Lenor­mand ora­cles because my clients had ques­tions that I wasn’t able to sat­is­fac­to­rily answer with a tarot deck. Of course the tarot is like a reli­gion to me (or at least as close as I’ll prob­a­bly ever poke one with a long stick…) But when I read for peo­ple and they have ques­tions about love, money, sex, work, their kids, their pets, their par­ents, many of them don’t want spir­i­tual coun­sel­ing. They have no inter­est in enlight­en­ment. They just want hard answers and the Lenor­mand is per­fect for that.

I had told the class that when I stated with the Lenor­mand deck, I was just get­ting com­fort­able with the term “psy­chic”. Because I don’t read your thoughts. I have no idea (or inter­est in know­ing) what your deep­est dark­est desires are (I mean, I have this idea and I’ll prob­a­bly fig­ure it out any­way through­out the course of a read­ing… but seri­ously, if that shit just ran like a feed loop in my brain I’d have to cut my head off. Really.). I’m not a medium in the sense that I chan­nel spir­its. I’m actu­ally pretty dubi­ous of spir­its (other than Grey­goose and only with a dash of tonic, thanks). And to be hon­est some­times I’m even sketchy on “the future” (as in, whether or not it actu­ally even exists). There I said it. But for all prac­ti­cal pur­poses, I’ve come to accept that psy­chic is as psy­chic does and I do the psy­chic thing, ya know?

At the same time, I used to hate hate HATE the phrase “for­tune telling”. I even had it on my web­site. “I am not a for­tune teller.” What do for­tune tellers do? They make hard pre­dic­tions about the future. Like spe­cific things. But again, I found myself at times, despite myself, mak­ing hard pre­dic­tions about the future. And still I was resist­ing this deli­cious facet of my self because of the fear of being WRONG.

I’ve since come to the real­iza­tion that the future, in terms of right and wrong, exists on a plane of con­scious­ness that is both simul­ta­ne­ous, experience-able, and muta­ble. That is, the right for­tune and the wrong for­tune hap­pen whether I pre­dict it or not (and I typ­i­cally do) – because YOU CHOOSE your for­tune. You expe­ri­ence the for­tune I pre­dict or fail to pre­dict because YOU CHOOSE your for­tune. And you have the abil­ity to change your for­tune with or with­out me because this is YOUR CHOICE to do so.

You come to me, the for­tune teller, for answers to ques­tions that plague you. What I do, what my capac­ity is as a for­tune teller, is to give answers. Those answers com­fort you or dis­turb you into action or path.

I am a for­tune teller. Want to know your future? It’s YOUR CHOICE.

That is so powerful.

My expe­ri­ence, in New York City, in the mid­night hours out­side the Laguardia Hotel Mar­riot, hav­ing a fan­tas­tic con­ver­sa­tion about ROLLER DERBY with an enchant­ing lady from the Czech Repub­lic, was that a man who spe­cial­izes in pub­lic rela­tions hap­pened to over­hear us talk­ing. He and his part­ner approached us, inter­est piqued about the roller derby thing (have I men­tioned it’s awe­some?) and we pro­ceeded to chat for an hour and a half about life, the uni­verse, every­thing and pub­lic rela­tions. Our real­iza­tion was that we’re in the same business.

And then he read my cards. Lit­er­ally. I handed him some post­cards I had printed up of the new deck I’m work­ing on, the Wicked Sibyl, and he looked at the cards, looked at me and told me my fortune.

And I have to share that with you, because it’s been a theme that’s popped up for me since last year, and because what he told me com­pletely scared the shit out of me (and he was lit­er­ally some ran­dom guy on the street). And I know that when I get fright­ened, that’s when it’s get­ting real for me. That’s when I stop play­ing and make actual pro­pelling deci­sions. I get my cards read fre­quently and had been the vic­tim (will­ing) of so many card read­ings over the course of the week­end – but none had shook me like his words did – and when I real­ized that the soul-shaking bits of his talk were in the pos­si­bil­i­ties that he was able to unfold for me in the uni­verse, it was reveal­ing. I real­ized I was stand­ing in front of the Magi­cian. Le Bateleur. Il Bagatto. The Magus. He was mes­mer­iz­ing. Only in New York City. Only in the deep­est hours of the evening. And only out­side some shitty hotel next to the air­port, right?

Do you want to know what he told me? I’ll give you a lit­tle nugget.

He told me I was pow­er­ful. And he told me that it was my choice to uti­lize it, or live in fear. And I know I’ve heard this before, the “you are such a strong woman” stuff that peo­ple blah blah blah. And Kate Coura­geous, in the capac­ity as my life coach last year (another Magi­cian!) was prac­ti­cally spoon-feeding me “YOUR CHOICE” and I didn’t catch on. Why does it take some kind of ran­dom chance encounter to shift my focus? I sup­pose I’m a bit of a Parei­do­liac, though every­one in my pro­fes­sion is. In the course of one con­ver­sa­tion, my life shifted from “I am try­ing to make this work” to “I work it.”

That sub­tle refram­ing was the choice I had been push­ing up against. And now I’ve been ade­quately dis­turbed into action.

The moral of my story – Your for­tune is your choice. Stand in that power and move with it. Don’t let fear of being wrong dic­tate who you really are.


4 Responses to "I’m a fortune teller. Want to know your fortune?"

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  1. Shaheen Miro

    May 8, 2011 at 1:34 am

    I am in love with this! Just saying :)

  2. Brigitte

    May 9, 2011 at 5:42 pm

    Love you! (I’m sure, you will get this the way I mean it…;o))
    I’m not the same any­more since that night, as well… Some­thing hap­pened… Some­times it needs a “sales­man” to mir­ror your own “value” to your­self, doesn’t it? :o)
    Thanks for pre­serv­ing this moment for “eter­nity” this way!
    Thanks that we met.


  3. Vicky

    June 30, 2011 at 2:19 pm

    This is the arti­cle, that got me to think­ing, and out of my comfy zone. You are right about all of this.

  4. Pingback: The Sassy Sibyl » Blog Archive » What I do : What is a Lenormand