Caffeinated Tarot - On Brand

I didn’t have my first sip of coffee until I was nearly thirty.

I was standing next to my then-boyfriend at a tiny coffee cart in Seattle’s U-District while he ordered something called a mocha. I remember wrinkling my nose because I was fully convinced coffee was bitter bean water meant for exhausted adults and people who enjoyed suffering.

He promised I’d like it.

One sip later and I knew two things:

1. He was right.

2. My life had fundamentally changed.

The relationship with the guy eventually ended, but the one I have with coffee has endured.

Now, what does this have to do with tarot?

Honestly? Everything.

I have found that my intuition is strongest early in the morning, before the world gets loud. Before emails and headlines and notifications and everyone else’s opinions start crowding the edges of my brain.

The neighborhood is usually still dark when I sit down at my dining room table with my deck and journal. The dogs are nearby. A candle is lit. My phone is face down somewhere far enough away to not matter.

And then there’s the coffee.

Always in an intentionally chosen mug.

That part matters more than people think.

The choosing of the mug.

The first pour.

The slow stirring of cream into coffee while I whisper the day’s intention to myself - clockwise, of course.

Tiny rituals have a way of telling us who we are paying attention to.

Most mornings, before I even pull a card, I already know I’m coming home to myself.

The idea for a quick three-card reading came to me during one of these quiet mornings. I remember sitting there thinking about how tarot doesn’t always need to be complicated to be meaningful.

Sometimes we just need a small pause before the week begins.

A moment to check in with ourselves before we hand our attention over to the rest of the world.

And somewhere between the first sip of coffee and the shuffle of the cards, the name arrived.

Caffeinated Tarot.

Because that’s exactly what it is.

Every Sunday morning, I sit quietly at my table with coffee in hand and ask the cards what we, collectively, need to know.

I pull three cards: The what. The why. The how.

The cards begin talking to each other almost immediately. One card softens another. One calls bullshit on another. One shines a light directly into the place we’ve been trying not to look.

The cards tell stories. They always do.

I simply sit there with my coffee and try to listen long enough to translate what they’re trying to say before recording the reading into the mic of my iPhone.

By the time the first cup is gone, the ritual has usually revealed itself too.

The journal prompts.

The reflection.

The tiny action.

The invitation.

I purposely send Caffeinated Tarot out on Mondays because, frankly, Mondays feel like they could use a little extra wisdom, honesty, and caffeine.

More than anything, I hope it becomes a tiny ritual for you too.

A reason to pause.

To reflect.

To reconnect with yourself before the noise begins again.

Maybe that’s what Caffeinated Tarot really is.

Not just a reading.

A small moment of return.

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