How to Predict the Future

There are 78 cards in the Rider–Waite tarot deck, each with their own story. There are 22 major arcana cards (dramatic themes) and 56 minor arcana cards (smaller plot points.) The minor arcana is further split into four suits: cups (water), wands (fire), swords (air), and pentacles (earth). 

It’s quite simple. And exceedingly complicated. Like most things in life, it depends. It depends on the spread. It depends on the position in which they land. It depends on the question.

The first person who read my cards was my uncle S. I was 14, and watched from the corner of the room as he masterfully flipped the cards into a celtic cross on our kitchen table, quietly contemplating the meanings before offering his interpretation.

He pointed out little symbols on some of them. He noted when a card was upside down. He painted backstories for some of the characters—a mysterious priestess, a hooded traveler, a rower in a river of swords. He spoke of them like old friends invited for dinner, too familiar to be summarized in a quick sentence. He had spent time among them.

The cards themselves held my attention, but what fascinated me most was watching people’s reactions. They nodded. They said “oh” and “hmm”. They laughed, uncomfortably at times. Their eyes widened and narrowed. It was clear to me that these little paper cards were doing something. They were pointing to a hidden reality beneath the surface.

“Would you like a reading, Kate?” S asked me. I had been watching him all night, wordlessly. “Okay,” I agreed. He asked me to think of a question—I could say it out loud or keep it to myself. I chose to hold it close. He had me cut the deck, then he dealt, revealing reflections of my past, present, and future, one-by-one. 

He paused. His voice softened but remained steady, like a veteran doctor about to give a diagnosis. “I’m going to be honest with you, this isn’t great, baby.”

I don’t remember what happened next. I don’t remember the cards he pulled and what they had to say. But I do remember his initial assessment and how it did not scare me. In fact, I felt comforted. I felt seen. The cards were just cards, but they gave me an honest, unbiased reflection at a time I really needed it. It wasn’t great. They told the truth.

I forgot about the cards for many years.

I went to college. I traveled east. And then, 14 years later, they found me again. This time, inside a bookshop in New Paltz, New York during a solo road trip—a deep purple deck with a tiny guide book in 7-point font.

These ones, I knew, would be mine. 

I learned by doing. I asked myself questions, and the cards asked questions back—10 swords in the back, a wheel, a woman with a falcon—have you considered this perspective? Sometimes, I took things too literally. Sometimes, I took things too spiritually. I practiced. I sharpened my blade of discernment. I went deeper.

About a year in, it occurred to me that I wasn’t really looking for an answer to anything, I was looking for hope. What I craved was internal security—the type of peace that withstands any external storm. The type so rooted in freedom, it cannot cater to any mistruths. And so, I started taking my power back. 

Your choices are your future. I’m going to repeat that and put it in bold.

Your choices are your future.

If you want to predict what’s next, look at how you spend your day, moment to moment. Your habits are the most honest indicator of where you’re headed. If you don’t take care of your body, you will get sick. If you don’t nurture your relationships, they will wither. If you don’t set boundaries, the same circumstances will continue.

Tarot is not magical; you are. Tarot is simply a tool, a method of inquiry. Same with astrology. When used intentionally, it can offer insight. When used poorly (which, unfortunately, is most cases I encounter) it turns into a twisted ego game of wanting to feel special, trying to spiritually bypass an issue, or a misguided attempt to replace therapy.

Use them wisely.

There are 78 cards in the Rider–Waite tarot deck. I shuffle them and lay three cards before me on a couch in a crowded midtown cafe, where I’ve met V for a catch-up before she goes ice-climbing upstate. “Like with picks?” I ask. “Yes,” replies. I ask her to send me pictures.

The reading continues.

I turn the cards over, revealing reflections of her past, present, and future, one-by-one. While I truly don’t believe any card is 'bad,' some reveal tougher lessons than others. I analyze the spread and look up. “I’m going to be honest with you, this isn’t great, baby.”

We hold hands and talk about it. We laugh. We make a game plan.

At the end of the day, all 78 cards are keys to the same, great door: love, love, love.

The Tower

The Moon

Strength