About
Divine (v) began with a practical wish to have a tarot deck with me, even when I had not brought along a physical deck. It soon became useful in other ways as well, including sharing cards and readings directly within conversations.
The future is unknown, but we spend much of everyday life trying to anticipate it. We read the news, follow markets, scroll through social media, consult experts, and look for patterns that might tell us what is coming.
Tarot offers another way of relating to that uncertainty.
I use the cards less for prediction than for reflection. Their images often bring into focus something already present: an overlooked feeling, an intuition, another view of the situation, or a question still being formed.
We live surrounded by images. We have become remarkably practiced at recognizing and analyzing them, and much less practiced at noticing what they are doing to us. We are taught to ask what an image is before we ask what our encounter with it has been. Their influence often arrives before our explanations, but we become absorbed in understanding the image and lose sight of our response to it.
For me, tarot has become a way of practicing that kind of attention.
So I rarely spend long on the question, What does this card mean? Instead I begin with the simpler question, What do I notice? It sounds almost trivial, but I find it surprisingly difficult to answer. More often than not, it asks me to slow down and remain with my own experience a little longer before reaching for interpretation.
Meaning, if it comes, grows from that encounter.
Drawing a card can gather attention around a moment and give it a little more space. That might happen over morning coffee, while making a decision, or simply as a way of pausing long enough to notice what is present.
At other times, I bring cards into conversation. For those willing, they introduce a third point into the room, gently inviting into the conversation what otherwise isn’t finding its way through.
Divine (v) extends these practices into the devices we already carry with us. It tries to stay out of the way, making room to notice what might otherwise go unnoticed—whether alone or together.