Let’s take a quick dive into a world of ancient mysticism, sacred symbols, and just a touch of woo. Oracle and tarot cards are magical tools that are no longer just for divination in a gypsy wagon. They can also serve as powerful allies for writers and authors.
In a 1933 lecture, Carl Jung shared his views on the Tarot and said that the cards are “psychological images, symbols with which one plays, as the unconscious seems to play with its contents. They combine in certain ways, and the different combinations correspond to the playful development of mankind.”
Before we explore how the cards can be important writing tools, let’s take a closer look at what they are.
Oracle cards are the free spirits of the divination world. They come in various themes and designs, offering open-ended interpretations for a more fluid connection to one’s intuition. We can choose oracle decks that resonate with our personal experiences and aspirations, as each one is unique and features everything from celestial beings to animal spirits.
In contrast, tarot cards are designed with a framework rooted in symbolism and archetypes. A traditional tarot deck consists of 78 cards divided into the Major and Minor Arcana. The 22 Major Arcana cards represent significant life themes, while the 56 Minor Arcana cards explore everyday experiences. This established structure gives tarot a narrative that resonates deeply with Jungian psychology, particularly his theories on archetypes. Each card tells a story, rich with symbolism, that can help you uncover deeper layers of yourself and the characters in your stories.
Jung believed that archetypes are universal, symbolic images residing in the collective unconscious, influencing our thoughts, emotions, and actions. These archetypes can manifest in myths, dreams, and yes, in the cards we draw.
Archetypes are already embodied in the characters of your story, for example, the wise old crone, the shadow, the rebel, or the innocent child. Each card you draw can serve as a mirror, reflecting your inner landscape, guiding you to deeper self-awareness, and possibly edging you toward a new form of writing.
Individuation, a central tenet of Jung’s philosophy, refers to the process of becoming the person you’re inherently meant to be. It is a life-long journey towards self-realisation and wholeness, where you confront and integrate your conscious and unconscious selves. This process involves recognising and embracing various archetypes within you, allowing for a more authentic expression of yourself – both on and off the page.
When you start to understand the archetypes that inform your identity, you can create more authentic characters and narratives, whether you’re writing fiction or non-fiction.
Here are some ways the cards can transform your craft.
I’ll start with this because it’s probably my favourite part of working with cards. Jung defined synchronicity as an acausal connecting principle that links psychological events to external world events. Basically, it appears as a meaningful coincidence.
Jung gave an example of synchronicity involving one of his patients. The person dreamt that they were given a gold scarab beetle, and just as they were telling Jung about it, a rose-chafer beetle tapped at the window of the consulting room. Jung opened the window and picked up the critter, handing it to the patient with impeccable timing. This wild synchronicity had a transformative effect on her therapy, breaking through her previous defenses.
I love noticing the magic after I draw a card, and it happens so often. I’ll draw a card with the image of a crow in the morning, perhaps write a line or two of crow energy in whatever story I’m working on, and then while walking Maddie in the dog park a few hours later – crow upon crow upon crow were seen along the way.
I know that we see what we’re focussed on. The crows were always there. But that is exactly the magic of the cards. It gives us something to draw our attention to. We notice things we’d usually overlook. We see the crows.
It gets us out of our usual ruts and moves us away from overused objects and metaphors in our writing. Our external lives and all the new things we notice can merge with our characters and stories.
Drawing cards from a deck is a deeply intuitive experience. Each card embodies specific energies, themes, and archetypes that resonate with the unconscious. For example, drawing the “High Priestess” card may encourage you to tap into your inner wisdom. This fluid exploration of the unconscious can reveal hidden fears, desires, and motivations, which can then spill over into your writing. When you’re in tune with your inner self, you can create more authentic and relatable characters. By exploring the archetypes represented in your oracle and tarot decks, you can breathe life into your characters, allowing them to reflect genuine human experiences.
You can also use a card spread to explore the central themes of your story. The cards may offer you a different perspective on certain scenes, or perhaps they give you an idea for a plot twist.
While I avoid using the term “writer’s block,” there are often times when it feels like we’ve hit a wall. It may be while we’re rewriting a chapter for the fourteenth time and we’re so tired of reading the same thing over and over again. This is exactly when a card can jump in and fuel a new angle. Another obstacle could be internal, where you just can’t find the motivation to write and feel exhausted. Picking a card for yourself can help, perhaps offering insight into why you’re tired and can’t face the page.
I love drawing cards to explore challenges I’m facing, because they often face a problem differently to the way I naturally do. I’m often the drama queen, and it’s all “tower tower tower, oh my goodness, I have no time, my writing is a disaster,” and then I randomly draw the Fool and she’s skipping along with her little dog, and the message is clear: “Stop taking yourself so seriously, kiddo. Play a little. Jump off the edge. Write imperfectly, write messy, it’s all going to turn out just fine.”
I’m not a huge fan of routine and structure, but I’m also very aware that my writing needs it. If you treat your writing as an athlete does their sport, it requires you to show up consistently. The cards have helped me create a muse-inviting writing practice.
Each morning I sit at my writing desk, which has now become an altar (I can’t wait to share more… found objects, talismans, candles, index cards…it’s amazing). I have this short but powerful ritual where I simply get quiet, close my eyes, pick a deck, shuffle, and draw. That’s my card for the day. Then I prop it up on my desk so that I see it all the time (even while I’m working my normal job to pay the bills). Sometimes I’ll look up the meaning in the guidebook, sometimes I’ll just let it speak to me on its own. It often inspires a quick journalling session (stickers, magazine images, washi tape…I digress), and most days I also go down a Pinterest or Google rabbit hole on the theme. There can be so many writing visuals and fascinating research from just one card.
Not only does this ritual enrich my writing, but it also strengthens the connection I have to myself. I love how the practice hones my intuition and hopscotches across my imagination. When I show up, the muse shows up. Every single time.
These tools are more than just cards with pretty pictures. They are sacred companions that can guide you toward self-discovery, authenticity, and profound connection. All the different perspectives they offer can add a depth to your writing that likely wasn’t possible before.
I encourage you to play with the cards and see where it goes.
Visionary author, artist and Jungian writing coach