By Katrina Rasbold
Somewhere, at some point, someone decided you should never buy your own Tarot cards.
I would very much like to meet this person.
Mostly because I have questions.
Who does buy them, then? Is there a designated Tarot distribution committee? Do I submit an application? What happens if nobody in my family takes the hint? Am I simply destined to wander through life Tarotless until a mysterious benefactor recognizes my readiness and presents me with a Rider-Waite deck?
More importantly, how did this become a rule? It makes no sense a-tall. I’ve been a reader for over forty years and one thing I know is that the deck has to truly speak to a person for them to produce an optimum reading. If someone else buys the deck, how do they know it will speak to the recipient? “Oh, she likes horses and there are horses on this deck, so it will work great for her.” There is a huge difference in appreciating the beauty and aesthetic of a deck and deeply relating to a deck on an intuitive level.
Witchcraft has an astonishing number of rules for a spiritual community famous for not liking rules.
Never blow out a candle and interestingly enough…
Never snuff out a candle. I guess you just throw a glass of water on it, then?
Never let anyone touch your Tarot cards. This one make doing readings quite complicated.
Always stir clockwise to bring something toward you and counterclockwise to send something away. Except that “clockwise” is based on the progression of a sundial which is a reflection of how the sun travels, so it is inherently the exact opposite of how the sun travels.
Back on 1998, my husband (he’s an engineer, Goddess love’im) observed that the earth turns counterclockwise on its axis and moves counterclockwise in its orbit around the sun. A double-helix, which represents the very DNA that makes us who we are, moves upward in a counterclockwise spiral. When we stand hand-to-hand, the left hand (governed by the right side or “feminine” part of the brain and therefore, the receptive hand) receives and the right hand (governed by the left side or “male” part of the brain and therefore projective) projects. This naturally creates a counterclockwise energy flow. Through this observation, we began routinely moving all energy in our ritual circle counterclockwise. Other covens around us LOST THEIR MINDS. Since we had public rituals, we always briefly explained in advance of casting that we did this and why so anyone could step out if they wanted to. I received countless emails from local Pagan leaders basically mansplaining to me how I was putting the entirety of Witchcraft at threat by doing this. They kept pressing that I was inviting tragedy, that something awful would happen. They (literally) used phrases like, “You’re driving your car at breakneck speed in the wrong direction on a freeway, putting us all at risk” and then there was “You’re teaching newbies to do this and it’s like you are giving the baby a gun!” It always boiled down to me asking, “WHAT?! Exactly, precisely, what is going to happen? Please describe to me the specififc thing that will happen if we move the energy clockwise.” No one could answer that. They only knew it would be something bad.. very bad. It’s been thirty years now. The Big Bad hasn’t gotten around to happening yet.
Never haggle over the price of a magical object. It never hurts to ask, but don’t be intentionally predatorial over it.
Never pick up a coin you find tails-up. Clearly, whoever said this had no idea what life in 2026 would be like.
Never buy your own magical tools. As with the Tarot decks, tools call us to them. Are we not supposed to answer unless we have a benefactor with us?
Never use a crystal without cleansing it first. If I dig a crystal out of the ground, I assure you, it has been purified.
Never give someone a knife without receiving a coin in return. Me thinks someone is trying to avoid being stabbed…a lot.
Don’t do magic during an eclipse. Some of the BEST magic happens during an eclipse.
Don’t do magic during Mercury retrograde. That is the ideal time to do any of your revisionist magical work!
Don’t do magic when you’re angry. Don’t do magic when you’re DUMB and angry. Trust me. You know the difference.
Don’t do magic when you’re tired. My power bill would not have been paid from 1996-2020 if I had followed this dictate.
At some point, I’m assuming we’re allowed to actually do magic.
The interesting thing isn’t that these beliefs exist. Folklore, magical traditions, religions, families, cultures, and individual practitioners have always had rules, taboos, customs, and superstitions. That’s part of what makes studying magical traditions so fascinating.
What fascinates me is the way a custom occasionally escapes its original habitat, wanders onto the internet, loses all identifying information, and emerges six months later as THE WAY IT IS DONE.
No context.
No tradition.
No explanation.
Just: NEVER BLOW OUT A SPELL CANDLE.
Why? Because.
There is apparently a tiny spiritual OSHA inspector somewhere issuing citations.
And I have questions about him, too.
The Mysterious Case of the Gifted Tarot Deck
The Tarot deck rule is one of my favorites because it has remarkable staying power.
According to the superstition, your first Tarot deck should be given to you.
This presents an obvious logistical problem.
If everyone must wait to receive a Tarot deck, where did the first person in this chain get theirs?
Eventually, somebody has to go shopping.
Perhaps there’s one original Tarot buyer wandering the earth like the Wandering Jew, purchasing decks and distributing them to the worthy.
If so, I owe them quite a lot of money.
I’ve bought most of my own decks.
They still work.
Please don’t tell them.
And Then There’s the Candle
Candle rules could fill an entire book.
You must snuff rather than blow.
You must let the candle burn completely.
You must never let the candle burn completely.
You must dress it from the center outward.
Unless you’re dressing it from the ends inward.
Carve upward.
Carve downward.
Write the name three times.
Seven times.
Nine times.
Write clockwise.
Write vertically.
Turn the candle while writing.
Don’t turn the candle while writing.
Meanwhile, somewhere in the middle of all this, there’s a bewildered new practitioner holding a candle and wondering whether lighting the damn thing incorrectly will cause their ancestors to revoke their membership.
Those of us who have been doing this for a while tend to become considerably less excitable about such things.
Not because traditions don’t matter.
They do.
But context matters, too.
A particular method may be absolutely correct within the system where it belongs.
That doesn’t automatically make every other method wrong.
And that is where things get interesting.
“My Grandmother Always Said…”
Now this is where I start listening.
Because family traditions are full of rules nobody can explain.
Don’t put your purse on the floor or you’ll lose money.
Don’t sweep someone’s feet or they’ll never marry.
Don’t rock an empty rocking chair.
Don’t hand someone a knife directly.
Throw spilled salt over your shoulder.
Don’t bring certain flowers into the house.
Somebody’s grandmother knew exactly why.
Unfortunately, Grandma died in 1987 and neglected to leave footnotes.
So the practice survives while the explanation disappears.
I love that.
Not because I necessarily believe every superstition, but because there’s something wonderfully human about carrying these little instructions forward.
Some of them have traveled through generations, countries, religions, languages, and families.
And some were probably invented by somebody’s great-grandmother because she didn’t want the children touching her good scissors.
We may never know which is which.
Then the Internet Got Involved
Of course, the internet has made all of this much more entertaining.
A practitioner shares:
“In my tradition, we never…”
Someone else reads:
“Witches never…”
Another person makes a video:
“Five Things You Should NEVER Do in Witchcraft!”
And by Friday, someone is terrified because they blew out a birthday candle in 2019 and now suspects they’ve offended Hecate.
Information travels faster than context.
Certainty travels fastest of all.
There’s something very seductive about certainty, particularly when we’re new to something.
Tell me exactly what to do.
Tell me exactly what not to do.
Tell me which herb.
Which candle.
Which direction.
Which moon phase.
Which words.
We want to get it right.
I understand that impulse.
The trouble is that Paganism and magical practice are enormous umbrellas sheltering traditions that don’t necessarily agree with one another—and never have.
Ask five experienced practitioners how to do something and you’ll get seven answers, two historical anecdotes, an argument about terminology, and somebody recommending rosemary.
Honestly, that’s part of the charm.
I’m Keeping Some of the Rules Anyway
I have rules.
You probably do, too.
Some came from teachers.
Some came from traditions I’ve practiced.
Some came from experience.
Some are simply things I’ve discovered work well for me.
After enough years, it can become difficult to remember which is which.
And perhaps that’s worth noticing.
There is a difference between:
“This is how I do it” and “This is how it must be done.”
There’s a whole lot of room between those two sentences.
Enough room for tradition.
Enough room for experimentation.
Enough room for Grandma’s inexplicable prohibition against putting shoes on the table.
Enough room for the person who snuffs the candle and the person who blows it out.
Enough room, even, for the poor soul who walked into a metaphysical shop, saw a beautiful Tarot deck, bought it with their own money, took it home…
…and discovered that the cards worked just fine.
I’m afraid I still can’t tell you who made all the rules.
But if we ever find the person responsible, I have a few questions.
And apparently quite a few decades of violations to confess.
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As Editor of the Green Egg Blog, Katrina Rasbold weaves ancient wisdom into the complexities of modern life, fostering a space for deep inquiry and magical growth. Katrina is the editor of Green Egg Magazine, a priestess, author, and co-creator of the CUSP path, working from the crossroads of tradition and transformation. She owns and operates Crossroads Occult with her husband, Eric, offering a sanctuary for those seeking mentorship, quality handmade magical items, and authentic craft. Discover her full body of work at www.katrinarasbold.com.