angels, my thing

angel card readings are my thing

I am driving a little too fast to my angel card reading appointment (my “thing” for February is readings). My plan to leave with plenty of time got sideswiped with an impromptu meeting for work and now I am running and starting and zipping and swearing a bit under my breath and sweating a bit under my armpits.

But trying to be chill just in case, you know, THEY are watching.

The “they” I’m referring to in this scenario are the angels, just in case it’s not clear.

Random thought: If my idiot driving gets me into an accident and I, like, die, will my angels let her know? My angel card reader? Will she know right away? Is this something they would tell her? Also, do they think I am making fun of her or them right now with this thought? I’m not, just for the record, this is a serious and logical question in my brain… but do angels have a sense of humour, just in case?

I’ve received advice on Instagram to be open and to relax in preparation for my reading so I turn off the radio and just try to breathe. I’m trying to get around all the painfully-slow-oh-my-god drivers who are dead set on keeping me from my destiny, but I’m trying to do it in a serene and peaceful way, you know?

If I’m honest I am feeling the way the entire Friend’s cast felt towards Roger, Phoebe’s psychiatrist boyfriend. Remember how he was kind of a jerk and everyone was paranoid that he would just know things about them, and then he DID in fact know all kinds of uncomfortable things about them and so their paranoia was warranted?

That’s the level of chill I am succeeding at. Deep breaths and mild paranoia. And sweating.

Roger. Image credit:

I am trying to push this concern out of my brain while I hurtle myself from one end of town to the other. I finally make it to what Reddit deems the “best witchy shop” in my area and I ease into my parking spot. I take a deep breath and try to collect myself. Jacket, purse, phone, notebook, pen. Mask. The store where I’m headed is quite unassuming and neatly wedged in between a bible store and a tailor.

It feels fitting.

The shop has a quaint, tinkly feel. Before I open the door I assume I am going to feel out of place, but stepping over the threshold I’m at ease. Its overstuffed in the most welcoming way, like the best, old and creeky used bookstores. It’s draped in colourful fabrics printed with positive messages and crystals are hanging from the ceiling, catching the sunlight streaming in from the windows that cover the whole side of the store. There are figurines and candles and gems and cards resting on every possible surface, shelves of books where you wouldn’t think a whole shelf could possibly fit. A handful of calm and friendly people quietly mill about easily gliding past each other despite the lack of space.

My reader, Sarah*, comes out to greet me and leads me into a back room where the reading takes place.

“Have you had a card reading before?” she asks me, making a bit of small talk. She looks at me kindly and with an air of…

You thought I was going to say “mystery” or something, didn’t you? I went into a backroom for an angel card reading and it was supposed to be mysterious as all get out, right?

I’m not exactly sure what I was expecting, but I kind of thought that might be the case. Maybe she would look at me with piercing eyes for a little too long? Maybe she would send me out immediately because of the whole swearing and do-angels-have-a-sense-of-humour-thing?

She didn’t stare and she didn’t send me away. She looked at me kindly with an air of… normalcy. A bit of curiosity. And attention. It felt like I had the full attention of a pretty kind, normal person with a pretty unique job.

After closing her eyes and taking a moment to tune in, she asks if I have any specific questions.

“Uh, not really. I guess about career?”

Now, I am the kind of person who shows up to the doctor’s office with a list of questions I want to ask. I go into meetings generally already knowing what I want to happen by the end, so this wishy-washy answer is… not on brand. It’s not a lie, I don’t really know what to ask, but it’s pretty lame.

She lets me know that the angels are kind and just there to help and she starts to shuffle her worn deck.

We talk about a needed vacation (the angels suggest something near the water, loving my angles already) and that I need now to get crystal clear with my wants. She asks if I am working on something new and that I am coming into a “higher level” with my work (since I work for myself we talk about what that could look like). She asks again about this new thing I am working on and I tell her about this year long challenge of “new things” I have been exploring and that I’ve been writing about it on this blog.

Sarah gets a really good feeling about this. The angels say I have a “natural talent” for writing and the more I write from the heart the better.

I am not even going to pretend this does not thrill me to my very core. Who doesn’t want to hear this? This feels amazing.

As she talks and shuffles and asks, I notice myself relax. My self-consciousness is fading.

It turns out I do have questions and I start to pepper her with them. I begin to get a little bolder and my questions get more specific. When someone is literally doing what they can to get intel from ANGELS, who am I to hold back?

She mentions my kids and my husband, archangels and spirit guides. She speaks to the importance of being patient (“They say everything isn’t going to happen today. It’s going to flow naturally. You’re going to have to trust it will come as it’s supposed to,” she gives me pointed look. I think she’s getting that I’m not exactly a patient person). She says that I will help the most in my writing and my work by being vulnerable.

She says to call on the angels whenever I want, “they are here to help, just ask.”

My session is done.

As I leave I’m buzzing. I feel fantastic. Light.

I feel like I’ve had a wonderful catch up with a sweet, intuitive friend who thinks I can do anything.

I don’t just feel happy, I feel giddy.

As I sit here writing this almost a week later, I still feel the warmest glow from this experience, my very first angel card reading, and I think I know what this feeling is… what part of it is anyway:

Connection. Soft baby threads of connection wisps weaved with enthusiasm and hope and curiosity and a healthy dose of vulnerability. A sweet and sincere woman devoted 30 minutes of her attention to me with well wishes underlining her every word. That’s what it felt like to me. Yes, I paid her, this is her job, but anyone who has ever tried to glean customer service out of someone who just doesn’t wanna can attest to the fact that money doesn’t have to equal magnanimity.

Connection to kind people, connection to new experiences, connection to dreams and aspirations and courage…

Connection to angels.

Do you need an angel card reading to receive and give that connection? Of course not. But it’s one way. And I think knocking myself out of my comfort zone/couch/home might have been necessary for me to feel it so acutely all at once.

10/10, highly recommend. Go find yourself a Sarah and an angel card reading and a something or someone who reminds you that you can do anything.

* Sarah isn’t really her name, I have changed it for privacy and just in case it turns out that those angels don’t have a sense of humour after all…**

** I feel the need to note that I was just kidding about that last thing. I’m just kidding. I know all y’all angels have a great sense of humour because… platypuses. And sloths. And yawning, which is just so weird. I’m assuming you’re somehow involved in some of this… maybe project management? Customer Service? I’m done, love your work.

I am conducting an experiment: I have challenged myself to try something new each month in 2022. Here are my (self imposed) rules. Let me know if you have ideas on fun/ interesting/ novel things I could try in the comments. Or join me, that would be even more lovely actually…

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