I spent some time crunching the numbers last night. This has been my worst year as a Tarot reader ever.
Don’t get me wrong. It’s lots of fun. At the NY Ren Faire this year, I picked up a new hobby: sphereplay (google it… it’s fun!); working at the Forest of Fear gives me time to practice it. I talk with a lot of people, get to act outrageously (“I am a speed sinner! I can violate ten commandments in less than two minutes!”), and sometimes get to connect with why I became a Wiccan high priest in the first place.
I also get to get up early on weekends, work late into the night on those same weekends, endure the heat of the summer in a thick costume, endure the cold of the winter in a costume that never seems thick enough, take a lot of flak from pubescent kids, and risk getting a ticket if I accidentally hit 36 MPH while driving through Sloatsburg.
I have to think about whether it’s worth all the angst and effort to support this hobby of reading for others. I wonder if I’m really offering something to people, indulging in an expensive form of recreation, wasting my time, or what.
Maybe I should do a reading and get some insight…