The Tarot Cards That Wouldn’t Stop Following Me

There’s a strange moment every tarot reader experiences eventually.

The moment you realise the reading isn’t for the client.

It’s for you.

Every year, I do a twelve month tarot spread for myself. I don’t read for myself often — mostly because reading your own energy objectively is almost impossible — but this spread has become a yearly ritual.

I write every card into my diary.

Then, month by month, I watch the symbolism unfold in real time.

This year, my guide card was Death.

My overall theme card was the Queen of Cups.

And my card for May was The World.

At first glance, The World felt reassuring. It’s often associated with completion, achievement and cycles coming full circle.

But May arrived like a storm.

Stress. Chaos. Overwhelm. Huge energetic shifts.

The kind of month where your life feels like it’s rearranging itself faster than you can emotionally process.

Then last week, during a reading with James Douglas, the cards appeared again:

Death at the beginning.

The World at the end.

Today, while working Psychic Art readings together, it happened again.

Two separate readings.

Both opening with Death.

That’s when I stopped.

I pulled a clarifying card.

Temperance.

The alchemist.

My card.

And instantly I understood that the Death card wasn’t appearing for the clients.

It was appearing for me.

Death in tarot is rarely literal. It represents transformation, endings, shedding identities and crossing thresholds.

Temperance is what happens after the destruction.

It’s integration.

Alchemy.

Learning how to become someone new without losing yourself entirely in the process.

And The World?

The World is completion.

Not because everything becomes perfect.

But because the old cycle finally closes.

Looking back now, the sequence feels almost painfully clear.

Death.

Temperance.

The World.

End. Transform. Become.

Sometimes tarot doesn’t whisper.

Sometimes it follows you room to room until you finally listen.