I shuffle the cards, and lay them out and each one turns and shows itself to me. How I interpret it is up to me; it can't tell me anything I don't already know.
I don't believe in karma, or fortunes, or magic*, or any God you'd care to name. I do believe that - as following any of these ways of thinking would all be equally futile in the long run - what's the harm in making up my own system of belief, if it makes me happy? It can't be any less false than any of the organised religions.
So I started with the Tarot. I got a set of Celtic Tarot cards for my birthday a few years ago. I expected it to just be a laugh, reading for my friends and family just for the fun of it. But I actually found it weirdly comforting as a medium (haha, medium, geddit? Okay, maybe not) to think about my life and what I'm doing. I bounce my thoughts of the meanings of the cards and twist the meanings until they fit for me. It's a bit like a jigsaw puzzle.
I think of everything I do as part of a game, where I make the rules and deal the cards. That's the only way to enjoy life.
I've been 18 for 18 days. I'm enjoying the symmetry of the moment. I'm currently sitting in our yellow kitchen, ripping my dad's Rolling Stones CDs onto my laptop and internet-window shopping for a girly-fit Sex Pistols t-shirt. I'm out of work and between educations; I'm drawing up the rules and inking in the designs for the next suit of cards to play.
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* Say "Wicca" and I'll e-slap you.
