ten years of tarot

hello, friends. yesterday i was reflecting on my tarot journey and career, on how far i've come in the ten years that i've been studying and working with the cards — and then mercury made my head buzz a little, and i looked at the calendar again, and i realized something important.

today is my ten-year tarot anniversary. so if you don't mind, i'll like to invite you on a little stroll down memory lane, looking at the past and the present and bringing you into some of my future dreams too.

ten years ago i felt lost in my spirituality, completely disconnected from my creativity, isolated in my queerness, and uncertain about my place in this world. ten years ago i was working for startups and restaurants and freelancing when i could, never quite fitting in anywhere, and longing for something that could be mine. ten years ago i was a nervous, frustrated, deeply depressed, wildly lonely person who, after months of gathering courage, walked into an nyc bookstore and bought a copy of the wild unknown tarot, and went home to pull a card, and had no idea that this practice would change their life.

and change my life it has. just this week, i'm recording a new podcast episode with my wife and dear friend, teaching for the brilliant and inspiring lindsay mack, reading tarot for the morgan library's tarot exhibit (an exhibit which, unsurprisingly, includes art from kim krans, the creator of the tarot deck i first fell in love with), hosting an open house for the grove which helps folks use spiritual tools to support creative devotion, and putting together plans for my second tarot grief container. next week i'm hosting my monthly community tarot meetup at astoria bookshop, giving a lecture on tarot beliefs for my tarot membership program the hermitage, continuing to work on my third tarot book, and writing my next month of newsletters and tarot spreads on the nine of cups.

so many things happening, and i genuinely love every single one of them. and none of them would've happened without tarot.

tarot has helped me find communities of queer folks and witches and artists and magicians, people who share my values and want to make this world better, people who are courageous and talented and push me to grow. tarot has helped me pursue some of my boldest dreams, of writing a regular column and pitching myself for big projects and hosting podcasts and writing books and teaching courses and even presenting at a conference for the very first time (next year!). tarot has also helped me see myself more clearly, a tool that i held fast as i moved through job changes and moves and a divorce, as i came out as nonbinary, as i owned my chronic illnesses and major depressive disorder more publicly, and as i made 3am.tarot my full-time business.

tarot has become not only a way for me to strengthen ties and build magic, but also a way that i can support myself: no small feat for a queer, trans, chronically ill person living in an expensive city in 2026. there are lean months, there are moments when i'm tired and scared, there are times when i worry that i won't be able to financially support myself anymore — but i never regret my choices or the risks i've taken. i love what i do, and i'm so proud of what i've been able to build, and i'm so grateful to every single one of you for being here and reading my words and sharing my work and learning alongside me.

when i first started my tarot instagram account back in 2017, it wasn't from a place of authority — it was simply from a place of curiosity, a desire to learn and connect and discover. my posts were filled with questions, and conversations, as i offered thoughts and engaged with the observations and experiences of others. i had no idea what i was doing, and that was the whole point.

and here, in 2026, my work still revolves around sacred curiosity, around building relationships with magic and creativity and grief and spirit, about being open to new ideas and asking a million questions and figuring it out along the way. i share newsletters, record podcasts, write books and tarot spreads, offer courses and resources and lectures, facilitate containers and community spaces, and teach people how to use the cards their own way, with their own magic.

it's so fucking cool, y'all. i work really, really hard, and very rarely take days off, and sometimes have panic attacks about money, and worry that i'm not doing enough somehow just like you probably do sometimes. and, also, i feel so lucky to love what i do so much, and i hope i get to do various versions of this for the rest of my life.

and — i have big goals, big dreams, big ideas for the future. i want to build the hermitage up until it has hundreds of members, tarot seekers and readers all sharing insights and growing in their practice together. i want to write at least three more tarot books, and be involved in more anthologies and collaborative projects too. i want to keep expanding the grove with my wife, to keep growing this gorgeous digital space but also run in-person retreats for grove members to share about their creative and spiritual journeys. i want to create and publish a tarot deck. i want to keep finding ways to use my voice, from recording podcasts to hopefully someday recording my own audiobooks to maybe even reading the works of other people. and i want to keep meeting new folks and sharing the love and magic of tarot with them, to learn from people who are both brand new and very experienced with tarot, to keep challenging my own assumptions and deepening my practice.

what i love about tarot is that there is no finish line, no end game, no final form. i know that for some people, getting to a place where they can describe their work as advanced or professional or master-level or whatever feels like a milestone, and i would never take that away from them — but for me, tarot is a relationship. and maybe i could describe tarot as a partner or a best friend or a platonic soulmate or a dearly beloved the way i describe the people i am closest to in my life, but it doesn't feel like a ranked thing. it feels like a commitment, a devotion, a path i never want to stop walking.

the other day, jeanna and i were pulling cards with two of our favorite people, and she said to me, "i know you love tarot, but it's also really important for you to know that tarot loves you back." and i've been sitting with that, and loving it, because it feels true and right and real.

i love tarot, and i think tarot really does love me back. and i feel very, very grateful.

i didn't really plan on sending y'all anything today, so thank you for letting me crash your inbox with a very from-the-heart little piece. thank you for reading my words, for listening to my voice, for trusting me with your practice, and for being brave in your lives every single goddamn day — especially on the days when you don't feel brave at all.

i'm sending you love and magic and devotion, courage and confidence and clarity, intuition and care and connection. here's to the next ten years, friends 🖤