After reading this profile of the tarot card reader at Raoul's, I decided to dine there and get my cards read. To be honest, I was more interested in a psychic than a card reader, but I liked the idea of having that psychic-ness grounded in something other than a crystal ball. Or chain smoking, as was the case with the previous psychics I had happened upon. I liked that this was in a restaurant and involved none of the beaded curtain smoke and mirrors game.
Sadly, the woman profiled was not available, so what I got was a plain ol' card reader. Which was fine, she was intuitive (to an extent) and ended up teaching me a lot about tarot. Given her background with various disciplines she also blended in numerology and astrology. Ultimately though, she didn't tell me anything about my life that I didn't already know - that I'm a giver, that things will be moving quickly for me this summer, that the root cause of my present has been a slog of a journey, that I'm about to conclude a chapter, relation and otherwise, that the lessons will carry me through to the next level, that I'll have fun and ultimately a happy ending.
I can't say I wasn't satisfied - once premonitions and predictions were out of the picture, cosmic reassurance was what was left and I got all of it. Except, that wasn't the gift.
It was after, when I was asking her to explain the suits and the symbols of tarot, and she flipped through her deck to find the cards in particular to show me. It was then that I saw all the cards that I could have been dealt - death, the devil, all of the ones with swords pointing at or piercing through things. And I realized that there was no reason to feel anything other than blessed.