Tarot is American adolescent movies with cute, curious teenagers, recklessly experimenting with the supernatural to disastrous effect. It's dated, spooky fairgrounds and questionable circus experiences. It's crystal balls in dimly lit tents, bejewelled wrinkled hands on strange old women, bitter women, jaded temptresses and vindictive revenge seekers? It's marginalized communities, outsiders, unwanted feared women who capitalize on their isolation by tricking the naïve - "cross my palm with five pieces of silver, and I'll tell you your fortune." It's women known as witches; bad women, untrustworthy, shady, strange.

What baggage do you bring to the word tarot? What black cats, pattern shawls, candles and broomsticks? Everything I'd seen of Tarot was questionable. TV and cinema taught me to be wary. It said, "Beware women with magic!" A woman wielding supernatural power cannot be trusted. Steer clear. To be honest, I had no idea I'd absorbed so much propaganda until faced with two new women in my community circle who both professed to be tarot readers. That's when all these deeply embedded ideas started flooding my mind. Do I believe them? I think maybe I had done at some point, and that seems silly now; the ideas we accept in childhood that continue to hold space in adulthood. These two did not look dangerous. They did not look like the archetypal witch, and even if they were witches... is that a bad thing? What even is a witch? A quick Google search, and I am taught:

Witch [noun] - a person thought to have magic powers, especially evil ones, particularly depicted as women wearing a black cloak and pointed hat and flying on a broomstick.

hmmm... Let me look up wizard for a minute. I type and hit search.

Wizard [noun] - a man who has magical powers. Synonyms: wonderful, excellent...

Interesting... This is unsurprising and just lame, to be honest. Man with powers equals good. Woman with powers equals bad. I wonder why? But to be honest, I have no inclination to waste any more time pondering the gender biases I am already too familiar with. Yawn. Let's move on. I see an opportunity here to sit, listen, observe and learn. So whenever one of the two women talk about tarot or witchery, my ears prick up. What might you share that I've never heard before? Never considered? One calls herself a witch outright. The other less so and both are lovely. Both are warm, kind, sensitive, generous and very much invested in wellbeing - definitely not giving curse or hex or evil plot twist vibes. What did you expect Pid'or? I think, and I don't know. I really don't. Over time, I was drawn more and more to the funny, kind, quirky energy of one of the women, in particular. Lizzie. We embarked on the beginnings of a friendship, finding things in common despite us being such different women on the surface. Nothing I love more than getting under the skin of things and finding increasing examples of shared humanity.

One day, she offers me a tarot session. I say, I have no idea what to expect, but yes, I'm open. I trust she will hold me well. Stepping into the dark space of the unknown, my heart is open, and my spirit is wondering. We have two readings with an interval of about four months between, and here's how it went:

Session number one - let's call this Into openings.

I can't remember her words verbatim, but Lizzie tells me that her approach to tarot is to draw and present the cards, but to allow the person to interpret them first. Before a single card is drawn, she checks with how I am arriving to the session with my body today. It isn't good. I'm tired. I've not been sleeping or eating so well, and I've been suffering through sharp, prolonged abdominal pains. She sees me acknowledges my suffering with a sweetness particularly unique to her. She prompts, "What might you need in order to enter this work?" I ask if she can lead me into grounding. Yes, she says and we begin. Breath work, slow and gentle brings me into awareness of my body. An invitation to close my eyes or let them land wherever feels good, takes my focus inwards. Onwards on a journey from the bottom to the top of my body, every limb, my inner and Outer spaces I meet with curious, loving attention. She guides me through a body scan like a good friend, holding my spiritual hand as I meet the thing I am always with, but with a fresh look. Lizzie pauses a moment. In silence we sit. She is with me. I feel her presence, and I am with my body in presence. Sensations are coming forward to be felt. To be seen. In a spiritual sense I feel Lizzie let my hand go. "You may wish to place a hand on any part of you that needs some attention right now." I hear her and my hands travel instinctively to the place that wants it most, my abdomen. Deeply I breathe. The warm sting of tears looms behind closed eyelids. A little moisture leaks from the corner of one eye.

When I finally look up at the screen, I am met with kindness, compassion, a loving presence. She waits. After a short pause to allow my feelings to translate themselves into words, I share my thoughts and feelings with Lizzie. I explain how difficult it has been to be in a body working so hard to heal and be well when it is marked with such difficult feelings of being unwell. It is only a month since we laid my brother to rest, and I am very much at sea with grief. I've been holding space for family, friends, clients, and I'm trying to hold space for myself, but exhaustion sometimes leads to towards numbing and self-abandonment. This is just the headline - Large, bold newspaper font that almost swallows the whole page. Lizzie asks some questions and holds silence so I can reflect further and deeper. When the time feels right, she asks whether there is a particular thing I'd like to explore today. I think, feel, then I share that I'd like to explore this space I'm in right now, where there are so many transitions; health, grief, relocating and a new career direction. It's a lot. With me it always is. Abundance has always been my portion, but it does not discriminate between the rough and the smooth. After answering a few more clarifying questions, I'm invited to check whether I need to move or adjust where I am in any way. Thankful for the prompt I sense a need for an extra layer. I grab my cardigan, and in that action, I understand I want to feel physically held so I sit on the floor with my back against the wall. Now we can begin. And she draws. I share the five cards she drew on this post.

First, the Page of Pentacles. Second, justice. Third, the star. Fourth, the world, and finally, the moon. I had no knowledge of what these cards signify in the world of tarot. She draws one at a time, and with each she invites me first to share my thoughts and feelings. How does this land with me? Being a particularly visual person, a creative and having just done the grounding exercise, I am well primed for this part so each card lands in my body before my brain joins in. What I mean is I feel them. I feel shifts of sensations, temperature and mood in my body with each draw.

The process goes:

* card drawn

* my body responds

* I share and we unpack my response in relation to the focus that was set at the beginning of our conversation

* Lizzie then follows with her reading of the card what it represents and how it can be interpreted.

* We reflect further before moving to the next.

I am moved by the cards. Lizzie is moved by the particular set that has been drawn. Apparently, they are some big hitters. I wouldn't know but, but I trust her. I won't go into the full details of the reading, but I will highlight that I was most challenged by the Justice and World cards.

When the Justice card was drawn, I felt a heaviness in me, and there was a sense of being held down. I reflected on the roles I play, a sense of responsibility and how things aren't always balanced. I reflected on my grief and how a sense of injustice played a part in losing my brother, losing a number of dreams due to burnout and ill health, having to reconfigure my whole life so quickly and disruptively. This card hurt a lot. Looking at the deep red gown I imagined myself in it - empowered and powerful. What if I held the scales and the sword? What if? Still, I struggled to stay with the card. Lizzie talked me through a reading. We reflected, but I wanted to move on for now. I had a similarly difficult process with the World card. A major arcana card she tells me. Here's why I struggled.

I looked at the card and saw unity. I saw completion, unity and a sense of peace. I saw the ease of femininity and how when this giving, yielding energy source is centralized, everything comes together. She seemed well resourced by all parts of her being as depicted around her, there was a sense of harmony in being as she naturally is. So you might understand why when I the woman at sea in grief, embarking on a new chapter after several ruptures of life, and sitting physically bracing a body in pain, I squirm. Something inside me pushes back against the card. My body rejects it. I reject it because I want it so badly, but fear that it's too far from my reach. Perhaps this is why, when Lizzie shares the meaning of the card, when she speaks of cycles completed, of celebrations and acknowledgement, of achievements and so on my eyes finally crack like the fragile eggs they are, and out spills the yolk. I sit and weep, overwhelmed, not so much by what she says, but what I'm coming to understand through the sensations in my body. I am not ready. Somewhere between Justice and The World I have found myself holding on so tightly to my cape, desperately flying from fire to fire, fighting and playing heroin. When the signal comes to say, "Well done, you've done well and you've done enough." I don't count myself worthy enough to take the praise and welcome rest. Oh! That hurts. It hurts deeply, because in truth, isn't that partly how I arrived at this juncture? By not resting, not following my body signals, the signs that life kept putting in the road. Isn't this how I burnt out? And what happens now, if true justice, if my power is not in my doing, the constant actioning, but in self acknowledgement and rest as reward? What happens then?

In her wisdom, Lizzie sees a depth of processing at work and offers to send me the pictures of the cards and the questions she has asked. She thanks me for trusting her to guide me and for being open to taking the journey. I thank her too. I am awestruck by the impact of the session, and have further work to do as part of my integration process. That was my first Tarot experience, perhaps another tarotist would have done things differently. I don't know. What I do know is that Lizzie's approach suited me perfectly. There was atuned balance of guidance and facilitating space for me to explore and find on my own. The embodied quality of the process supported me to channel deep seated limiting beliefs, meaning, later I was able to see where I was placing blocks on myself as a response to those limiting beliefs.

Three months later, I am in better health. My new career is finding its feet slowly and I have taken grief as a companion to sit next to you on my bus ride through life. We talk often, sometimes conversation brings tears, other times we laugh uncontrollably because she holds all my favourite memories of the things I have loved and lost. I am deliberately slow, but still making tracks forward. This time, when I come to Lizzie for tarot, it is to provide insight around a project I am working on. I am due to put on a charity fundraising gala as I meet a milestone birthday. I figure I can use the birthday as a way to generate awareness and funds around the cause. Lizzie has offered me a reading and happily, I accept. I believe most of us find anxious feelings in doing something we've never done before. Well, this is my feeling when I approach Lizzie for a session. I feel anxious, vulnerable, hopeful and challenged. Can I pull this off? Is there fear of failure? Yes, for sure. I've said I'm going to do this thing, and I've given myself a fundraising target to hit in 40 days. Just to add a sprinkle of pressure, I announced all of this publicly across all my social media, so the fear is here. It is real. Try as we might, Lizzie and I cannot align our schedules, so we opt for working over WhatsApp. For this reading, she lets me know that she has another deck of cards. They are different from the last set that we used as their nature themed and she thought I might vibe with them as she is well aware of my love of forests and nature in general. I take her up on the offer instantly. No question. I want in on these cards. The WildWood Tarot It is!

And if you are ready, let's enter this session under the title: Into the woods.

Our second session is structured differently. I'll send her questions, and she will draw a card for each and forward them on. After a little discussion, we come up with five areas to focus on. The first is where I am now. She draws a card, which we take as my representative, the nine of vessels, or the signifier. Wow! Strong draw, considering the overarching focus of the session is the charity fundraising gala.

A sage-like-looking man sits bathed in celestial light amongst pots and chalices. They surround him. There is a particularly large one in his lap. I remember phrases like "pouring into others' cup" or "cup half full." I reflect on how I have been taking much better care of myself and my body. I'm meeting my needs, resting when I need to and seeking out joy and connection when I can. Effectively, I have been pouring abundantly into my own cup and so it feels aligned that at this time of spiritual abundance and increased energetic capacity, I can pour into others' cups. This aligns with the fundraiser completely. Moreover, I take a feeling of reciprocity from the card. I can only give what I have, and I have abundance because others are pouring into me. I've been strengthening my "ask for help" muscle. This fundraiser is another testament to that. The donations so far have helped me exceed my original target, and now we are aiming to raise more. Abundance grows through reciprocity. When we are all giving and sharing the little we can, everyone gets more. I find this card encouraging. I'm on the right track. Lizzie writes me that the card shows that "you must pour into yourself just a bit more than you are pouring out right now. There's some heavy stuff in there about the challenge of responsibility and the need for inner fortitude to tackle the task." I see this with another card drawn: The 10 of Vessels.

This is the card Lizzie draws on the question of one thing I need to do for myself during this time. Nourishment is what I see. Like she says, I need to pour abundantly into myself to create the over spill for the greater good. We cannot pour from an empty cup, after all. So now I feel assured that I am on track, and I have some guidance on self care to help me stay there. The next question I had was, what is this process opening up? She draws the night of arrows.

I see a message on taking wisdom from stillness, as in stopping, putting distance between me and the thing at times, to make more informed, resourceful choices. She tells me, "this card is about action, swift and direct and seeing the whole picture... with an intensity of purpose and clear sightedness." She reflects on how quickly I have pulled things together, having taken a reading of the situation and need. When she tells me, "It seems like there is a strong, energetic support.." for what seems to be "my calling at this time." I feel bolstered. I've got this. I can do it. My next question was, what do I need to allow for this? Lizzie draws the 10 of bows and I see labour and difficulty at first.

The weight of responsibility is great, but ahead, there is an indicator of something good. Fire. People gather round fires. Light, warmth, endings that lead to new beginnings all start with fire. The card gave me a sense of hard work coming to good and so to allow for the trials in the now. The overriding sense I got from this card was strength. I can do it. I can get to the finish line. I need to allow for the journey and to hold it with faith. The message I got was, "Something has been prepared for you, and when you arrive, it will receive you." My fourth question was, what might be a guide for me at this time? Lizzie draws the page of arrows, a little bird. The Wren. I loved this card. It gave me a sense of the small but mighty, the frequent underestimation of how small incremental steps can lead to big, wonderful things, or how we often feel too small to make impact. Like, how can my little voice be heard in all of this noise?

I imagined this little bird being able to hop and fly around into little spaces, nooks and crannies, how that offered opportunities to see and experience life from a unique perspective that can be powerfully useful. The underdog that flips the script. As tiny as she was, somehow I felt strengthened by the page of arrows as my guide. I identified with her. When Lizzie fed back using the exact same words, "Small but mighty," I had to smile. She told me the wren is famed for being a tiny bird with a very loud song. I thought of the gala and the campaigning I had needed to do and the hugeness of the cause we were supporting. Small but mighty. I have to sing a little louder, and something resonated with me about the song part. My approach for the fundraising wasn't to scream and shout. I'd chosen a gentler approach. We were using the beautiful talents and skills of creatives that I know to help fundraise. Yes, that's how we would sing a little louder to raise money and awareness, because music, art, creativity always cut through. By the end of my time exploring the cards and reflecting on them with Lizzie, I had grown big, strong wings. I felt empowered and g'd up to do this work!

We are some months on from the gala now and my Tarot session. I'm proud to say that the fundraiser was a success. My original target had been to raise £400 in 40 days. Through our collective efforts, we raised £1376. I'm still amazed by this.

I made it to the top of the mountain. I met the fire and found a beautiful community set around it to welcome and break bread with me. We sang our hearts out and danced until those in neighbouring villages heard us and came to see what all the commotion was about? They saw, came back with provisions and joined us by the flame. Every neighbour poured something of themselves into another's cup until we had plenty to yield and pour onto the seeds of our hopes. At the end of the night, 1376 seeds were planted in the soil, and now, now they are yielding fruits for survivors of war.

A little bird once sang a song. She sang it loud enough to gather a troop. They danced long enough to make the earth move. Maybe it was the cards that I needed. Maybe it was Lizzie. All I know is that I'd undertaken an ambitious task, and when I fell into doubt, I found the guidance I needed in a practice called tarot; something I'd once felt dubious about. A thing I'd been warned to stay clear of.

Because what good can come of a woman wielding what may or may not be supernatural powers? What good may come of a witch? What even is a witch? What is a woman attuned with her body, her spirit and the world's natural energy to be called? Good? Bad? Witch? Strange? I don't know. In truth, I don't care. Perhaps, the question is, Who are these labels for?

I met a woman. We became friends. She reads Tarot. Her name is Lizzie, and she helped me. Because of that, I grew stronger and helped others. That's my kind of magic. The end.