How Tarot Can Support a Therapy Session
By Cecily Sailer
After nearly six years working with Tarot, my practice continues to evolve, which is one thing I love about Tarot — it never gets boring, and it’s always growing alongside its human companions. Because Tarot is affordable and portable and so versatile, this also means we can bring Tarot into all kinds of spaces (where it’s welcome) to support ourselves and those around us.
Over the course of my ever-evolving practice, I’ve brought Tarot into more and more spaces — workplace conversations, public parks, fundraisers, weddings, birthday parties, people’s private homes, breathwork retreats, and giant conference centers. And, in recent years, my own therapy sessions.
When I was just starting out, I wanted to keep Tarot very secluded — at least from people who already knew me. I worried what they would think about me taking a hard dive down the Tarot rabbit hole all of a sudden. The practice felt so sacred and nourishing that I didn’t want anyone else’s side-eye or skepticism to ruin my good time.
Simultaneously, I was completely willing to go into public spaces — bars, coffee shops, bookstores, event venues — and share Tarot with a bunch of strangers. Because at least I knew: if they sat down at the Tarot table, they were open-minded enough to drop into the journey for a little while.
Inviting Tarot into Multiple Spaces
In any event, I experienced the importance of figuring out for myself where and how I wanted to practice and talk about Tarot. I did begin to tell my close friends and family (and no shade was thrown!), but one big breakthrough in owning my relationship with Tarot was beginning to talk about it in group therapy. (I attended the same weekly, mixed-gender interpersonal processing group for more than three years.)
When I first began speaking about it in group, it had more to do with just owning the fact that I’d created a little Tarot enterprise, and that Tarot was meaningful to me. As I became more comfortable practicing this vulnerability, I would sometimes mention specific cards that came to mind when someone in the group expressed a challenge or described something heavy weighing on their heart. I never brought the cards to our sessions, but I could describe a particular image and talk about the card’s message when I intuitively felt that information could be supportive.
In later sessions, some members would joke about wanting me to read Tarot for them (which, of course, delighted me!). I think the desire was genuine, but we knew our facilitators wouldn’t go for it, so it remained a piece of comedy and levity. Or in response to the joke, one of the facilitators would ask which card I might offer a group member for their situation, and this provided another vehicle for connection between me and others in the circle.
The camera looks down on a pair of hands over a woman’s lap. She’s holding cards from the Tarot del Fuego, as if she’s ready to rifle through them. Behind the cards, resting on her lap, a spiral notebook.
Bringing Tarot into a Therapy Session
Near the end of my time with the group, I started bringing Tarot into one-on-one sessions with my therapist (I’ll call her D), who also co-facilitated the aforementioned group. D was already aware of my love affair with Tarot (because of what I’d shared in group), and while she wasn’t familiar with the card meanings (as far as I knew), she seemed to see the value in Tarot as a metaphorical space to explore and make meaning (which is what therapists do).
Maybe it’s worth mentioning: I’d started seeing D for a time because of a difficult situation I was moving through, and I knew I needed additional support to stay centered in myself. At this point in my life, Tarot had become a daily practice and a regular part of my work, and I knew D was open to it, so it felt natural and easy to bring Tarot into our sessions. And the results were really powerful!
I should also mention that all of our sessions were held on the phone (thanks, pandemic), so I was the only one of us who could see the cards, which I would describe to D. I must also mention: D was the one to invite Tarot into the space. Since I felt so connected to it, she knew I could reach in that direction for added intuitive guidance.
So, in one session, she asked what card might be an important guide or resource for me as I continued to navigate my tricky situation. I chose the King of Wands, a card that had come up more than a few times in my Tarot pulls. She asked me to describe the card, and I talked about the king’s courage, vivacity, love of life, and belief in his vision.
D’s question also helped me notice the masculinity in this card — an energy I needed but had a hard time accessing in this particular tricky life situation. Once we’d talked about the card, D asked me to sit with the energy I felt in the King of Wands, to bring it into my body, and then imagine this archetype tucked away in my back pocket, ready to assist me in moments of difficulty. I would absolutely end up needing that King of Wands in my back pocket. More than a couple times.
An image of the King of Wands Tarot card from the Fyodor Pavlov Tarot deck, imposed over a background photograph of a forest with a sunset breaking through the trees. In the Tarot card, a king stands in his royal finery, wearing a green cloak, holding a crystal ball in one hand, and a tall staff in the other.
After this session with D, I wanted to use Tarot in every one of our sessions. So I started pulling a couple cards before each call to help me choose a focus for our conversation. Or sometimes I already knew what I wanted to focus on, so I’d pull a couple cards to gather more insight on how to enter the subject matter, or what to attend to.
I started regularly holding the deck during parts of our sessions, almost like a calming object, and shuffled the cards around from time to time, then pulled a card when the moment felt right. Usually, about halfway through a session, after we’d discussed context, situations, and feelings, I might mention a card as a portal to go deeper, and D would pose a powerful question that would unlock something really potent for me.
In one session that focused heavily on boundaries, I pulled a couple context cards and received The Emperor (taking up space, taking ownership of your life and environment) and Queen of Swords (Tarot’s goddess of healthy boundaries). This combination of cards felt so reassuring — the perfect visual encouragement to help me own how I did / didn’t want to spend my energy, and how boundaries could serve me in protecting that energy.
I mentioned these two cards to D, and she asked if I remembered a time when I felt like taking up space (The Emperor), or speaking my truth (Queen of Swords), had come with difficult consequences. This launched me back to a very early formative experience in which telling a caregiving adult something they didn’t want to hear left me (temporarily) cut off from that caregiver in a very stark way. It was a difficult memory to revisit, but one that helped me give myself a break in terms of how challenged I felt at the time to establish boundaries with people I love.
In another session, I was focused on a mistake I’d made around communicating with my family — butting in where I didn’t belong and trying to exert control over something I didn’t need to be involved in. I had disappointed two family members in the process and just felt terrible over the mistake I’d made. I’d done what repair I thought I could, but still felt awful about it, so I wanted to focus on why I had such a difficult time in situations where I disappoint myself and others.
D and I talked through what happened and my early memories of perfectionism, and how it had both served me and undermined me. Then I wanted to ask a question of the cards: How can I let go of my attachment to perfectionism? I pulled the Queen of Pentacles, which felt so supportive and beautiful. I associate the Queen of Pentacles with the natural world, with the abundance of nature, with a feeling of grounded-ness and security that transcends circumstances.
An image of the Queen of Coins (Pentacles) Tarot card from the Fyodor Pavlov Tarot deck, imposed over a background photograph of field of wheat before a bright blue, partly cloudy sky. In the Tarot card, a queen stands in festive robes, wearing two long breads down her front, carrying a beautiful loaf of bread.
Looking at the card and talking to D, I was reminded that nature is imperfect. It has its own order, and inside that order, sometimes chaos. Or sometimes chaos is the order. Errors and anomalies occur. And as social animals, we step on toes, and get put in our place. This is how we learn about ourselves and others, and how we figure out what it means to show up for our relationships intentionally (and what can happen when we don’t). D also had this to say about the Queen of Pentacles: “She seems like the unconditionally loving parent you wish you’d had in certain moments.” And that recognition felt incredibly meaningful, moving, and supportive. With that, I was able to give myself even more compassion and start to let go and move on.
Why and How to Use Tarot in a Therapeutic Container
What I’ve shared about my own improvisational, co-created experience with my therapist is obviously just one example of how Tarot might enter the therapeutic container. There are surely endless ways this could look and many forms this could take, which would depend on the therapist’s preferred mode of practice, and the openness of both parties to explore what Tarot might add to the exchange. Just like therapy itself, Tarot helps us deconstruct and (re)create the Self.
To be clear, I offer this possibility (of bringing Tarot into therapy) as someone who’s used Tarot in many settings to help myself and others. I do not have training as a therapist, nor is my discussion of this topic based on psychological research. But I believe that when both parties are willing and curious about using Tarot, and so long as Tarot remains a supplement rather than a driving force in the session (because otherwise, that’s a Tarot reading), there are numerous safe and ethical ways to incorporate Tarot into the therapy space.
I believe the most responsible way to use Tarot in this setting is not as a fortune telling device (which is not how I use it anyhow), but as a conversation piece — a way to deepen inquiry and look for meaningful or supportive symbolism for the client (on their terms!). I don’t believe the therapist or client needs a strong understanding of Tarot’s traditional meanings in order to use the cards effectively. Both parties only need an open mind and a willingness to resist projecting onto the cards or assigning narrow definitions to the archetypes. It would also be supportive for the therapist and client to remain open to various layers of meaning that can unfold over time.
Whether you’re a therapist or client, I recommend pulling only one or two cards in any given session, so as not to overwhelm the space with metaphor, symbolism, or questions about what things could mean.
Recommendations for Therapists Interested in Using Tarot with Clients
If you’re a therapist interested in exploring the possibility of using Tarot with clients, you might start by placing a deck somewhere in your treatment space — on a bookshelf or display table. Be sure to choose a deck with imagery you’re familiar with — or make sure you take time to get to know the deck a bit before setting it out. You don’t want to encounter a challenging image for the first time in the middle of a session with a client. Also make sure to choose a deck with a visual aesthetic that might appeal to most your clients. If you work with LGBTQIA+ clients, there are a number of decks that depict gender fluidity. Nature-based decks or more modern Tarot interpretations offer a variety of imagery to choose from.
Once you’ve placed the deck where it’s visible — but not intrusive! — simply give it some time. If a client asks about the deck, you might inquire about their feelings about such cards and whether they might be interested in pulling one. That’s not to say you can’t directly broach of the subject. With clients you’ve worked with for longer periods of time, you’re likely to have a good sense of their spiritual leanings, or their level of openness to the metaphysical, esoteric, or artistic realms. If it feels appropriate, you can ask a client directly if they have any exposure or curiosity for Tarot, and just point out that the deck is available if they want to pull a card before or after a session. You might also give them explicit permission to pull a card without having to share it with you.
When or if clients opt to pull a card, allow your client ample space and support to unpack the image and find connections to their life now, in the past, or how they want to imagine it in the future. Ask the client to name any feelings that come up when they look at the card, and ask them to identify any imagery that helps to evoke those feelings. Allow exploration to unfold from there, as you normally would in any session.
Always try to conclude a Tarot exploration with a conclusion phase that empowers or supports the client. This doesn’t mean imposing toxic positivity on a client who doesn’t feel optimistic, or bypassing the client’s experience. It only means you can ask the client to look for a bit of medicine in the card. You might pose the question: If this card wanted to help you, what do you think it would have to say? As your joint exploration is reaches its natural conclusion, you might offer a final observation that deepens, expands, or adds to the perspective the client might take away, perhaps reinforcing things you’ve discussed in the past. I can image this entire process lasting fifteen to twenty minutes.
It’s also, of course, perfectly okay for you or the client to feel a little stumped by the card you see and not feel a connection to the image. In this case, after some exploration and discussion of possibilities, you might conclude with a we-don’t-know position, and remain open to more information coming through other means at a future time — or just not knowing indefinitely. This also reinforces the stance that Tarot is simply a tool for the therapeutic relationship, which is already rich with content and possibility on its own.
In future sessions, depending on which cards you’ve discussed previously, you can refer to those cards, particularly “power” cards, asking new questions of your client: Do you remember what the 3 of Swords asked of you a few sessions ago? What do you think the 8 of Swords would have to say about what happened? I’m curious if this reminds you of the 5 of Pentacles at all?
The 3 of Swords, 8 of Swords, The Seeker, and 5 of Pentacles from the Pagan Otherworlds Tarot deck by Uusi.
Recommendations for Clients Interested in Bringing Tarot to Therapy Sessions
I don’t recommend springing Tarot on your therapist as an in-session activity without a productive discussion beforehand. To initiate such a discussion, start by asking your therapist if they have any familiarity with Tarot, or any thoughts or opinions about it. Depending on your therapist’s initial reaction, ask if they’re comfortable with you pulling a card during a session or bringing your deck to a session.
Another way to broach the subject, if you’re already using Tarot occasionally: mention to your therapist a card you pulled recently that feels connected and resonant to a problem, challenge, or issue you’re working through. Hopefully, your therapist will get curious and ask questions. In either case, you might describe the look of the card, or better yet, bring it with you to your session. Talk about the message you feel the card is bringing you, and invite your therapist to notice any connections they see from their point of view.
There are also ways to bring Tarot into therapy without using the cards during session. For example, before a session, pull a couple cards in response to the question: What aspects of myself or my life should I attend to in my session with my therapist? See if these messages are helpful in defining what you want to work on. If you feel comfortable, share those cards with your therapist.
If you do bring your cards into a therapy session, I encourage you to stay focused on your typical style of work, and fold Tarot in, rather than deviating wildly in order to accommodate Tarot (but I find Tarot can slip into many settings without derailing the typical order of business). When you bring your cards to a session, you might hold your deck throughout or keep it nearby. When you arrive at a rich moment in the session, when you’re touching on deeper questions, this could be a great time to pull a card in response to one or two questions that come up.
If you want to keep Tarot out of the therapy room for awhile, another option is to pull a card or two after your sessions, asking the cards: What do I need to notice / take away from today’s session? Then journal about it for a little while.
I hope it goes without saying, but never expect your therapist to read your Tarot cards. And don’t try to read your therapist’s cards either!
I think we tend to view therapy as a very formal and scientific space, one that has nothing to do with the mystical or spiritual side of life. But I believe that all the stuff we talk about with our therapists is spiritual work. And Tarot is one of the most psychologically rich tools we can work with in the mystical space, which is why I see a natural fit — for those who want to pair Tarot and therapy at certain times in certain ways.
I’ve found that using Tarot during therapy adds a third voice to the conversation, one that belongs to my “therapeutic team” on the spiritual plane — ancestors, spirits, guides, and teachers who whisper to me through the images in the cards. Receiving messages from the cards enhances and compliments the messages of my therapist and my own inner voice. These messages give me a slightly different angle to explore — a slight (yet beautiful) shift in how I’m seeing a problem and how I can imagine a better course going forward.
Therapy Should Be a Right, But It’s a Privilege
If you’re currently lacking a therapeutic space to try this, you might gather a couple very trusted friends and move through a process of each drawing one or two cards and then sharing a problem, situation, memory, or experience these cards remind you of. Participants in the group should have equal time to share, and others should listen without interruption. The goal here is to give one another a safe time and container to share vulnerable feelings and experiences, and to make meaning from them. No one in the circle is responsible for fixing another’s problems, and you might explicitly rule out the possibility of giving advice. You might also create boundaries about the length of each share, and ask folks to reserve highly emotional details, in case they may be triggering to others. But leave room to share reflections — things you notice about the cards your friends pull, things you notice about your friends’ strengths, and any resources that could be helpful.
I also want to acknowledge that ongoing, regular therapy is not accessible for many people in the United States due to cost barriers and the state of our health care system overall. Moreover, the mental healthcare space (like all health and social care spaces) continues to perpetuate racial and other forms of discrimination, as well as socioeconomic inequities. For those who are Black, Brown, Queer, and Gender Non-Binary / Diverse, finding a therapist who feels safe and understanding adds an additional layer of challenge.
At different points in my life, I have been fortunate enough to have the resources to invest in group or one-on-one therapy, but this has not always been in the case, and I have turned to free and low-cost resources for support in the past. Here are a few resources for accessible therapy through a decolonized lens, and ideas for creating your own alternatives. Even if you are not currently working with a therapist, perhaps there’s a person in your life who feels like an anchor of support and wisdom for you — a sister, mentor, elder, aunt, or friend — someone with whom the Tarot practices described above would feel safe and enriching.
Black Female Therapists
Black Emotional Mental Health Collective Tool Kits & Resources
The Loveland Foundation
Sage and Spoon (BIPOC & Indigenous related to body image)
Asian Mental Health Collective
The National Alliance for Hispanic Health
Therapy for Latinx
One Sky Center (Indigenous)
Brave Space Alliance (LGBTQIA+)
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ABOUT CECILY SAILER
Cecily Sailer is the creator and founder of Typewriter Tarot. She’s a creative magic coach, Tarot reader, witch, bird-lover, and writer based in Austin, Texas.