Diaries have been conceived of as gifts for the dead, yet they now reign — in the form of their contemporary cousins, journals - as customised tools for self-study and reflection by the living. Repositories of the conscious and unconscious forces in our lives, journals enable us to glean insights into our thoughts, feelings, and behavioural patterns, and how these shift over time.
Tarot journals are akin to the eclectic sketchbooks of artists, the prospecting field books of archaeologists, the grammar notebooks of language learners. We jot down notes to remember ourselves with, to create our very own reference book, a guide to our uniquely personal psyche.
Historically, the post-1970s proliferation of self-help oriented tarot workbooks and guides signalled a sea change from the use of tarot as divination apparatus to a focus on self realisation. 1980s proponents such as Mary K. Greer and Rachel Pollack noted that through the tarot (as with the journal), we can ‘find ourselves’ by ourselves; reflected, thought about, psychoanalysed, even conjured into being, without the help of therapist or teacher. This tendency is assisted by the multiplication of specialised tarot decks published today — from queer, sex positive, and feminist decks to those illustrated with faeries, Arthurian knights, and even cats.
A less private vision of the cards has also been fostered by the Internet-era photographic sharing of spreads. Their collective interpretation on social media platforms has created communities of tarot enthusiasts engaged in mutual support, and bound by narratives of self-care. This public display of eclectic, sketchbook-style #tarotjournals on Instagram can be seen as an inevitable conjunction of these trends for self-guidance, empowerment, and the reconfiguration of public-private distinctions. Tarot journals are material yet ethereal objects which serve both as logbooks and spaces for stream of consciousness narratives about ourselves, as well as our spiritual and psychological journeys. They also assist us in moving towards a stronger acquaintance with the cards.
So how might you go about keeping your own? Here’s a short guide to help you get started.
Choosing your blank canvas
If, like me, you’re a stationery hoarder then there are a few things to consider before writing anything down. If you’re into pictures rather than (or as well as) words then you might consider plain or graph paper instead of lined. Similarly, if you’re a cut ‘n’ paste kind of witch then a ring bound journal might be your ally, as it allows more space for mixed media creations. There’s no need to overspend on your ideal canvas though — remember that ultimately it’s the content which counts. If you do feel like purchasing something new rather than using just any old notebook which is lying around, I highly recommend Coloring Book of Shadows’ Tarot Journal as a starting point.
How often to journal?
The worst outcome of starting any new habit is to punish yourself over how little you are actually doing it. So bear in mind that you don’t have to journal every day, or even write down every spread. But when you have the time and the inclination, make the most of it. I often use my journal to riff on spreads I’m particularly struck by, or that I just can’t seem to make head nor tail of. Writing helps me to get out of my head and deep into my heart. If you’re feeling reticent about jotting down whatever comes to mind then Natalie Goldberg’s Zen writing guide Writing Down the Bones might assist in freeing up your imagination.
How to write down a spread
My daily draw tends to be a three card spread, and when I’m journaling I like to take up a good portion of the page with my card names and numbers, which is particularly helpful when I get retrospective and go over old journal entries for reference or clarity. Experiment with different layouts and figure out what is both practical for you, and aesthetically pleasing. Don’t worry about changing things up - consistency is, let’s face it, a restrictive bore. If you’re stuck for ideas then Instagram is a hotbed of tarot journaling creativity — don’t worry about borrowing other people’s templates. You’ll figure out your own in time as you become ever more comfortable with the process.
A note on materials
Pencil, coloured pens, watercolour, collage - moods rather than words can work beautifully when it comes to keeping a journal of any sort. Feel free to make a mess and use whatever materials are to hand. As with botanists sketching flowers, drawing or painting your spread can be a wonderful way of getting intimate with your cards, the archetypes and symbolism they embody, and the colour magick they utilise. There’s so much to explore that a pictorially-based tarot journal can be a true gateway beyond conscious thought.
Rewind the clock
One of the massive benefits of journal keeping is the possibility it opens up for looking back over old entries, for revisiting your feelings and thoughts weeks, months or even years ago. Whenever I’m writing down a new spread I tend to flick through my journal to find out when a card last arose for me, and what it meant at that point in time. This enables me to chart arcs in my life, on a multitude of scales, and to note the way in which a particular card’s qualities can shift and change through familiarity. It also helps to remind me that every tarot deck is an amorphous and shifting entity, as prone to lively change as I am.