Taking a deep breath, I turned over three tarot cards. Immediately, I saw that I’d pulled Death.

It’s obviously scary, but in this context, while I was asking the cards about my career one day a few weeks ago, it was telling me that one phase was over and another was beginning.

I also pulled the Nine of Wands, a card about hard work – reminding me to go with the flow, instead of grinding so much. And the third card in my spread was the Ace of Cups, which is about creativity, overflowing abundance, and potential.

From these three, I took the interpretation that I should slow down a little, leave the past behind, and be open. It was just what I needed to hear at that point, and it left me feeling hopeful and confident.

If I’m honest, even now I still feel slightly embarrassed at being interested in the tarot and the occult.

If you’d told me even three years ago that I’d be asking a deck of cards about my life, I’d have laughed in your face.

I was brought up in rural Northern Ireland in a Catholic town, and such practices were seen as silly – if not somewhat evil. My parents also met in medical school, so my upbringing was a combination of rational science and devout religion.

Then lockdown hit, which coincided with the end of a long-term relationship and eventual return to dating. Cycling in and out of restrictions made relationships very tricky.

One day during the first break in lockdown, I was talking to my friend, Jane about my struggles with a new and difficult love interest. ‘You’ve done his birth chart, of course?’ she asked. I stared at her, puzzled.

She frowned. ‘But surely you found out exactly when and where he was born?’ I admitted that, after only three dates, I had not.

At her urging, I on-the-spot downloaded an astrology app and started learning about rising signs, moons, and houses. Apparently his avoidance was less to do with lockdown restrictions and all to do with being an Aries – who knew?

I still use this app and do find it spookily accurate with regards to my feelings, and how I relate to any friends or loved ones whose birth charts I’ve fed into it. It sends me messages every day, which I always read and ponder.

At the very least, it gives me helpful encouragement day to day, like a pep talk from a friend, and alerts me to the phases of the moon and the shift in seasons.

I then got into tarot on a 2021 trip to Glastonbury (where else?) with another friend. Our Airbnb had a book about it, and the next day I bought a pack from an occult bookshop and began drawing cards and learning the meanings behind them.

I immediately loved it, the way you have to ask a specific question about something in your life, and how its pictures can tell a story you then have to interpret.

I don’t necessarily believe it’s predictive, but it tells you so much about what’s on your mind and helps to draw out things you already know. Soon, I was doing readings for friends, which was a real bonding experience as they shared their deepest fears and hopes with the cards, and with me. 

It can also be a bit spooky, too. One friend was getting strong signals from the cards to leave her job, and that very day received an email telling her that they were clearing out her office.

Another asked about her living situation and drew the Tower, which like Death is sometimes seen as a bad or chaotic card, but can mean a change in your home life. Within a few months, she’d bought her own flat.

As well as astrology and tarot, I’ve also become interested in rituals to mark the seasons – part of a pagan or Wiccan tradition. For example, on the recent feast of Imbolc in early February – a date that marks the halfway point of winter, when signs of springs are showing – I lit candles and did some smudging (waving burning dried sage into the corners of your home) to help usher out the darker season.

On equinoxes and solstices, I will try to do something like wild-swim, even in winter, just to mark the date. By being outside I can really feel the seasons change. For me, this is all part of living more consciously, eating seasonally, and interacting with my local area.

One year, I found myself at Avebury stone circle on the autumn equinox, and it was full of modern druids in long dresses and capes – I love that people still believe these things.

I also went on a research trip to Cornwall for my latest book about a couple buying a spooky house that used to belong to a reputed witch, and visited stone circles and holy wells – there’s a long Irish tradition of belief in such things as sources of healing, power, and connection with the spirit world, so it felt like tapping into, and reconnecting with, my roots.

There are lots more areas of witchcraft to learn about, too – WitchTok is a growing movement on TikTok, for example – such as spell-casting, crystals, and energy healing.

I wouldn’t say I’m quite a modern witch yet, but I love that it’s an ancient, female-centred tradition and am keen to learn more. It doesn’t really matter if you think any of it is real or not – for me it’s more about tapping into your own intuition and power. From social media and talking to friends, I know many people feel the same.

I can definitely see myself taking a course in the tarot and learning to interpret it further, digging into the deeper meanings around the cards and how to apply this to real modern life. However, I may not go as far as one practice recommended by a shop assistant, and start carrying crystals in my bra!

Sometimes I will draw a tarot card for myself in the morning, or at a friend’s request.

Today’s draw was the Temperance card, which makes me laugh because just last night I was talking to my partner about cutting back a little in various areas – drinking, going out, spending money.

Sometimes the cards show us what we already know. 

Let Me In by Claire McGowan (Thomas & Mercer) was released on 20 June.

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