Alright, so I wanted to talk a bit about how I got into figuring out tarot card combinations. It wasn’t some grand spiritual awakening, let me tell you. I just got really fed up with single card pulls. You know, you ask a big, complicated question and you get one card. Like, “The Hermit.” Okay, great. So I should be alone? Or seek wisdom? Or am I just being a recluse? It felt like getting a one-word answer to an essay question.
My First Messy Attempts
So, I started just grabbing my deck – an old Rider-Waite I’ve had for ages, nothing fancy – and laying out two cards at a time. Seemed simple enough, right? Wrong. I’d pull something like the Two of Cups and then, bam, the Ten of Swords right next to it. My brain would just freeze. Is it a happy new relationship that’s doomed? Or an ending that brings people together? It was a total head-scratcher. I spent a good few weeks just staring at pairs, feeling more confused than enlightened.
I figured, okay, there must be a system. So I went looking. Books, websites, forums – you name it. And that, my friends, was a whole other level of chaos. Everyone and their dog has a “method.”
- Some people were all about the numerology.
- Others were focused on the elements – fire and water, earth and air.
- Then you had lists, endless lists, of “if this card, then that card, means exactly this.”
It was like trying to learn a secret code, but everyone was using a different cipher. I felt like I was drowning in information, and none of it was sticking. I’d try to apply these rules, and the readings just felt stiff and unnatural, like I was forcing square pegs into round holes.
Stripping it Back to Basics
After a while of banging my head against the wall, I kind of just… stopped. I stopped trying to memorize all the “official” meanings for combinations. Instead, I went back to just looking at the pictures on the cards. What’s literally happening in this image? What’s happening in that one? And then, how would these two scenes interact if they were in a movie together?
So, take that Two of Cups and Ten of Swords again. Instead of freaking out, I’d think: okay, here’s a connection, an emotional bond (Two of Cups). And here’s a painful ending, a feeling of being utterly defeated (Ten of Swords). Maybe it meant a beautiful connection was experiencing a very painful, rock-bottom moment. Or maybe it was about the painful end of something making way for a new, more balanced partnership. It started to feel less like an equation and more like a story unfolding.
What really helped was remembering the question I asked. That became super important. If I asked about a creative project and got, say, The Tower and The Star, that felt way different than if I’d asked about my health and got the same two cards. Context is king, seriously.
Moving to Three Cards and Beyond
Once I got a bit more comfortable with two cards, I started tentatively trying three. Usually a simple past-present-future spread. That’s where things got interesting because you could see a flow. For example, I pulled the Five of Pentacles (Past), then the Page of Wands (Present), and then the Sun (Future). So, it looked like: feeling left out in the cold, a struggle (Past) leading to a new spark of enthusiasm, a willingness to try something new (Present), which then results in joy, success, and clarity (Future). See? A little narrative. It made so much more sense than just isolated meanings.
I started keeping a small notebook. I’d jot down the date, the question (if I had one, sometimes I just pulled to see), the cards, and then my gut feeling about what they meant together. Looking back at those notes is sometimes hilarious because of how off-base I was. But other times, it’s a bit spooky how spot-on it turned out to be.
Where I’m At Now
So, do I have tarot card combinations all figured out? Absolutely not. I still get combos that make me squint and go “Huh?” But I’ve learned not to get too hung up on finding the “one true meaning.” It’s more about what those images, those energies, spark in me for that specific moment, for that specific question.
It’s definitely more challenging than just flipping one card. But the readings feel deeper now, more nuanced. It’s like when you’re trying to understand a person; you don’t just take one thing they say in isolation, right? You look at the whole conversation, their body language, the situation. Card combinations are kind of like that. They force you to be a bit of a detective, to piece things together. It’s a practice, and I’m still practicing, every single time I shuffle that deck.
