Monday Tarot Message: Healing can sometimes feel counterintuitive

“How can it be good for me when it feels so awful?” — is something I’ve asked myself quite often on my therapeutic journey. Healing can often get turbulent and feel lousy and destabilising. Because you’re going to go all up into all the uncomfortable things you’ve steadfastly avoided. Challenge strong beliefs, question patterns, revisit trauma and face previously unfelt emotions.

Emotions that are ignored don’t go away. They simply get lodged in the subconscious from where they continue to impact outward behaviour. An effective therapeutic practice involves building a safe and steady container within — a holding space for this journey that will bring up a lot of difficult parts of ourselves.

In allowing for feeling all that we have previously denied, we can begin to disengage from the impact that denial has had — whether an unhealthy pattern, or letting go of anxiety or grief, or opening up to positivity and abundance.

We are very used to looking for linear markers and milestones of success and achievement in everything we do. We chase consistent and upward movement. We seek to feel good as validation of our progress, and so we are not used to feeling unsettled and the process can feel counterintuitive. But healing and growth is an inherently non-linear journey that traverses parts that unsettle, challenge and require you to allow for feeling wretched sometimes.

The Nine of Cups reminds us how crucial it is to take this route, over pursuing bliss alone. To build this container, so we can hold ourselves through the turbulent times. Because that is progress too.

In fact, I can vouch through personal experience that, the greatest changes and more monumental differences in my journey have been on the back off the toughest most emotionally challenging phases.

Within the safety of a holding space, we can bring back into the light all that was previously repressed and pushed into the Shadow. It is necessary to know pain so we can know joy, to process grief so we can find relief, to confront so we can let go. So we can do it all actively, with deliberation. In a healthy way.

So yeah, it’ll feel wretched sometimes. It’ll feel unsavoury and confusing. It’ll downright suck too. It’ll feel entirely counterproductive. But that is the only way it goes.

One year ago: Content
Two years ago: I’ve been saving this time
Four years ago: Inside-out

36

This past year I learned more than before:

That I don’t have all the answers.

That some questions can remain questions.

To say out loud “I do not have it together today.”

That I am finally getting to saying “I feel afraid and insecure.”

To feel keenly when I don’t need to feel pretty and happy. Energetic and chirpy. And to know that that is not a constant I want to aspire for.

How much I want to build the capacity to know what I don’t know. To hold myself through what I can’t fix. To accept what is not in my control.

That I can feel hopeful and happy about my personal life, experiences and journey, while simultaneously having my heart broken by what’s going on around me.

To be okay with the mess.

Past birthdays: one year ago, two year ago, four years ago, five years ago, six years ago, seven years ago, eight years ago, nine years ago, ten years ago.

Contained

I find myself swinging between wanting this lockdown to end so I can be with people again, but also kind of never wanting it to end because I am also thoroughly enjoying being home in this way. So much.

Taking charge of the house completely as we have has done something very good for both VC and me. It’s snapped back a connection between us and the home that as probably flagging.

Between the cleaning, the cooking, the gardening, the routine of exercise, healthy meals, work schedules, there has been joy and great benefit in being stripped down and contained within the home. I’ve become very aware of how much dissipation of all kinds happens on a regular basis, otherwise.

One year ago: Acceptance
Two years ago: Looking back over my shoulder

Wild and free

My mind feels well. And by well I mean in tune with the rest of me. My body hasn’t felt this whole in years. Supple, and just this comfortable in my skin, this alive. My skin has really benefited from this lockdown. Between the clean air, home food, measured indulgences, regular sweaty exercise and a mind that feels well too, it’s really all cumulatively showing on my skin. Not just my face either.

The hair, though. That’s a whole other story. It’s just going out of control doing it’s wild thing as it would, two months over the usual stipulated time. It really hassled me for a while. But I am just going with it now. Also, let’s not talk about body hair right now.

Emotionally, I’ve had really good days, and really shit, shit days too. It’s been especially hard to not have anywhere to run off to, literally and figuratively. But somehow that is exactly also what’s needed? Sitting with the full gamut of all the feels. And I know that that has been extremely beneficial. Painful, but essential.

My dreams have been crazy. Frequent too. Not the unbelievable/imaginary kind of crazy, but the very real, featuring people in my life, revisiting places I have been, in a very surprising way kind of crazy. I’ve been journaling my dreams too. And I know this has been beneficial too.

There’s a wild and free feeling in my being these days. Ironic, no? Given our existence is anything but wild. And the farthest thing from free.

This is the mid-week look of having smashed out a workout I nearly didn’t do. I realised this morning that I may have literally never regretted a workout once it is done. Even when I’ve procrastinated or had starting trouble, once I have pushed through and finished it, I always feel good. It is always worth it.

I’m not happy all the time. I’m not productive everyday. I feel uncomfortable, uncertain and anxious a lot. I notice very keenly these days when I am not alright, in fact. When I’m not happy. When I’m restless. When I’m angsty. And I notice when I long for an escape, and when I am able to just observe it and let it pass. I notice how I’m turning to my usual rescue team a lot less. I see that it l eventually passes. I see a change there, in all of it.

Even through this very up and down time, something’s working, something’s shifted, something’s right.

One year ago: Vulnerability and validation
Four years ago: Birthday weekend in progress

On missing the offline life

Not so long ago when introversion was all the rage, I was so quick to identify the part of me that fit the label. I took solace in every single meme that celebrated grumpy solitude, people-hating, or scoffed at the idea of getting out, meeting the world out there, taking the trouble to connect. I took way too much (more than was true, actually) pleasure happy being an island, in almost elevating the idea of never stepping out of my home to a virtuous existence. It helped that my life in Goa has become conducive to that. I had pulled back from so many people over time, there was so little stuff to distract me, I could really enjoy being home for days on end. I had convinced myself I didn’t need people.

Even now, I am mostly a homebody. I do thoroughly enjoy spending time by myself, at home, mostly quietly, doing my thing. But in the last few years, I have realised that I like the option of venturing out. I don’t like the idea of cleaving to the introvert label so much that I cut out the possibility of interacting with human beings when I feel like it. Contrary to what I said and believed in 2015-16, I actually like people. Most people, in fact. I like going out. I like doing things in groups, albeit small ones than large gatherings.

I know this about myself now: I enjoy the outdoors, I enjoy the company of people, I enjoy spending my energy outwards, as much as I like the peace and quiet of my own space and company.

I really love both. Almost equally.

And so when this lockdown began, given that the physical reality of my life was largely unchanged, it didn’t take much getting used to. Physically. Emotionally and mentally, is a different matter and the stuff of another post. But 45 days on, I just want to say I miss people.

Desperately, on some days. And this isn’t not just the lockdown blues or cabin fever talking. It’s just an outcome of having gone this far without that extra, outward interaction.

I am longing for contact, touch, real words shared in real proximity, being in spaces outside my home. I miss the tensions of dynamics, the unique energy of every interaction, the effort that it all sometimes takes, the anticipation of a meeting, the lingering satisfaction when it is done. The sharing of space, of language, of energy, of a vibe. I miss saying hi with a hug. I miss giving taplis. I miss the breakfasts, the coffees, the desserts, the favourite meals. I miss sharing cocktails.

I miss the little things. Catching glimpses of emotion when they escape — shimmery eyes, a quiver in the chin, shifty gaze, that phone that always gets in the way. I miss picking up on the unsaid things. I miss sitting across people. I miss the intimacy of that.

I’ve done umpteen video calls with friends. Long ones too — eating, drinking, sharing a doob — doing all of the same things online, that we’d do face to face in an era before all this. In that sense, I feel closer to my friends in different cities and continents because somehow in the post-Corona world we’re interacting on video a lot more than before.

I’ve taken yoga lessons on Zoom. I’ve caught umpteen events and speakers on Instagram Live. And it’s all been so great. The access that this kind of meeting has brought is honestly, staggering.

Until I think about how when it’s over and I shut the light off on that screen, I’m alone again. And that interaction somehow loses some of its sheen just like the battery it simultaneously discharges.

I was supposed to finish my family constellation course this year. In fact I was in class when the directives on social distancing were announced, putting a spoke in my last session. That was my last outing in the world. So of course we’ve moved the rest of this online too. Yesterday, 10 of us checked into a Zoom meeting. It felt good to reconnect and I’m glad for options to keep the learning going. I was excited. I was happy. But I couldn’t help but also feel like this “new normal” isn’t quite cutting it for me.

Something is missing.

And of course it is that intimacy and that something that only a life, in the flesh meeting of bodies can bring. But I don’t know if it is just that. Is it ever just about the physical?

This isn’t me being a luddite and dissing new ways of on-boarding technology. I see how much easier it has made life, I see how it has the potential to make good change happen in the world — I’m dreaming of decongested roads and lots more work life balance in Bangalore, for example, because hopefully more people are convinced about how possible it is to just stay the fuck home and get the same shit done.

So, I’m not complaining. I’m just saying I miss people.  I’m just saying that I am not all that much of an introvert I made myself to be. I’m just saying I liked my life with all the options available.

I’m just saying that even with all the increased, new ways of interacting, I feel lonely quite a bit of the time.

Four years ago: Blend

Monday Tarot Message: Working with fear

The undeniable thing about any fear is that it is present on the flip side of the very thing you value the most.

The very things that we desperately want, somehow keep us crippled and stuck, unable to move towards any kind of fruitful outcome.

Like wanting to be a successful entrepreneur, yet crippled by the thought of going solo. Wanting equality in connection, but escaping to the lopsided dynamics of toxic relationships. Like dreaming of showing your art, but feeling the burden of not being good enough. Want to hold your vulnerabilities lightly, but fearing them being seen.

Eight Of Swords reminds us of the more useful way to deal with fear — to engage with it.

When we refuse to see fear, it turns into a surly enemy that blocks the path. But when we articulate it, allow ourselves to feel it, witness what it does to us, share it with another, it loses the hold on us.

Culturally too, we are taught never to show fear. Or let fear show.

We demonise it, and are shown time and time again to avoid it at all costs. So we never learn to engage with it. But fear makes us feel boxed in when we repeatedly avoid that which we fear, or fear itself. It keeps us stuck when this avoidance is so habitual that we unconsciously slip into loops of escape. And we wonder why life isn’t moving on and why certain patterns keep repeating — such as difficulty with success, recurring relationship problems, health troubles.

Perhaps a more useful response to fear is to acknowledge that it’s okay for fear to be there, first. Not to rush to eliminate or get rid of it. To allow it, invite it in. Give it a seat at the table, even.

The next time you feel deep fear, ask yourself, how is it impacting the choice you are about to make? And is that choice going to take you closer to what you value? Or will it keep you stuck?

When you engage with your fear, you give true change a chance, by acknowledging how it is closely linked to what you value. To acknowledge the fear-fuelled urge to give up, turn back, flee, and to invite it in anyway, is actually the precursor to taking mindful, deliberate action. To move towards change, not without fear, but in spite of it.

I feel like this week, the message is so deeply for me.

***

I continue to take enquiries for personal reading sessions. This is most easily done online, either on a video call if you prefer and are comfortable, or a regular voice call too. So if you have been considering — whether you’re in Bangalore or not — please reach out.

If you’d like to know more about how this works and how it might be useful to you, we can have a chat about that too.

Two years ago: And love is all that I can give to you
Three years ago: Because wanting to leave is enough
Four years ago: This day, that year

It’s amma’s birthday

04/01/2020

Happy birthday, ammsss! Here’s to many more years of sheepish giggles, fierce conversations and weird faces in the sunlight hahahaha.

I don’t say it aloud, because I’m only just discovering it and because I don’t want to jinx it, but you’re a pretty darn good role-model and an excellent prototype for what is to come for me as I grow. In your life and the way you have lived it, I see shining milestones and subtle inflections, clues for how I can navigate those same waters myself, all these years on.

And even though I will always be your child, I am enjoying growing up, being my woman to your woman.

24/04/2020

One year ago: On belonging
Two years ago: Just a stirring in my soul
Three years ago: More books (and a mini Bangalore update)
Four years ago: Mean things I want to say aloud, but can’t

Poof

These days, my phone is filled with pictures of only what we cook/eat, my plants, the same view from my window/balcony.

Finally, today, I just want to go out.

It’s day 40 and like everyone else, I’ve only been as far as the neighbourhood vegetable vendor and supermarket a handful of times. I haven’t missed the outdoors this desperately, until now.

I’d like to do something other than cook, clean, watch TV, practice solitude.

I’d like to see some human beings other than VC, Niyu and my vegetable vendor. Much as I am so thankful for not being all alone, I’m ready for some life.

I’d like to see some views other than the one outside my window.

Today, I’m really feeling constricted. There’s low hanging, horribly muggy summer rain clouds that are doing nothing more than hanging around. The air is hot and thick, impenetrable, sultry. Some rain would give respite, but the clouds just won’t part.

It’s making staying indoors really stuffy today. But I know that’s just the external. Internally too, I’m longing for a change of scene. Even if just for a bit. A drive? A walk?

While I’ve had good days and bad that have flowed from one to the next, I have mostly been able to get by and get on. Today, I’m finally feeling the suffocation of it all. And I’m feeling all kinds of gloomy will-this-ever-lift thoughts. The lack of information around whatever the fuck is going on, where we stand, is not helping me.

I’m longing for a nice long run in the park.
I’d love a beach day, from last summer.
My dreams alternate between meeting S to consume cold, stiff cocktails in restaurants I currently cannot go to, and my loved solitary escape to consume brownies slowly, greedily at Third Wave.
I long to get a haircut.

I miss it all so, so, so very much. And it’s all a bit surreal to be dreaming about such “basic” things. I know, to dream is also a privilege at this point.

Feeling defeated and deflated today, to think that I’m living in a time when all of this is currently a question of “if and when” and not “sometime soon”.

Who knows how long it’ll be?

Sigh.

One year ago: Plant babies
Two years ago: You know it used to be mad love

Card games

Re-upping this post, and sharing part 2 that follows:

View this post on Instagram

While Tarot Cards were traditionally looked at for prediction and fortune-telling, in present times they are finding a place in aiding emotional healing processes. . It’s been fascinating (and honestly completely consuming) to discover a contemporary application for such an ancient tool. And to see how it is constantly evolving as we make new forays into understanding the mind-body relationship. . In my practice, I draw from learnings in psychology, other behaviour sciences and family constellations, keeping the mysticism and wisdom of the Tarot in mind. . Swipe to understand what the taeot deck can reveal 🤓 . . . . . #riderwaitetarot #tarotwithrevati #tarotcardreadersofinstagram #tarotoninstagram #revatismondaymessages #tarotforhealing #tarotmatters #tarotforallseasons #tarotforallreasons #everydaytarot

A post shared by Revati Upadhya . Com (@revatiupadhya) on

In writing these, I have had to clarify a lot about why I do this and how I want to take this practice forward, for myself. It was an exercise that’s been a long time coming, and I’m glad to be putting in the time towards this, like I have all other professional undertakings, whether writing, or baking, or working with VC. As always, I’m happy to take questions, if you have any — whether you personally want to a reading or not.

***

The all round uncertainty and loss of control, not to mention stressful and emotional, time has been bringing up a lot for everybody, whether they’re conscious of it or not. Literally every reading I have done during this time has a question or two about job certainty. “Why am I feeling so emotional all the time?” in some form or another, is a close second. I feel both these situations so deeply these days. It’s in the air all around us, so if you’ve been feeling it, you’re likely tapping into the collective. Please know that it’s legit. It is allowed.

One year ago: Beachy things
Four years ago: Stop

Slow, scary change

And just like that I’ve crossed the 110 post mark for this year too. I used to watch those numbers clearly, and mark out the 100th day. But this year, I’ve just lost track and I’m feeling swept over by something else that keeps me going writing these posts. The nature of what I write here has changed, yet again, I’m very aware. And with every instance that I notice the change I think about it from an “audience” perspective, and I find lesser and lesser reason to come back and keep reading. I can’t lie, what little desire to have an audience here there was, has all but disappeared completely. And it shows in how there’s lesser context by way of actual events and happenings in my life these days. There’s lesser granular detail about all the abstract things I am exploring for myself. I have far more ups and downs, and there is so much more messiness and angst in full view. There is little for voyeurs to be lured by. There are no super original hot takes.

So for those of you who still find whatever it is that you do that keeps you coming back, whether it’s value or just sheer habit, thank you. It kind of overwhelms me that even with caring so little about my readers, there’s still a fair number of you who return.

The realisation about having crossed over 100 posts hit me when I was digging into my archives from this time last year, for linking up to my daily posts. I do this because I like to see how much, or how little, my life has changed as I go. And when I read the posts from one, two, four years ago, sometimes I am overwhelmed. Like I was seeing the posts form just one year ago — last summer that when I accidentally spent two whole months in Goa. I don’t know if anyone else would notice, but I do. I see how my tone is different, the words are tentative, the posts balmy and very reflective of the space I was in just one year ago. Now, one year on I feel far more sure, decisive, in-form. Things are a lot less uniformly blissful as they were last summer. I am encountering a lot more of my inner self, because I’ve peeled back many more layers between then and now. These days I find myself touching my messy core a lot more. And it is not always as pleasant, beautiful, victorious — which is all the words I could use to describe the phase I was in last summer.

Physically, the landscape of my life was so different too. A, I was in Goa, which always put me in a very different space, than Bangalore. B, I was still working in some measure, and turned to work to give my days structure and meaning. I have come so, so, so far from that place. C, VC and I were in the throes of living our separate lives in separate cities, and I look back at the points at which we’d meet (mostly in Goa) with such a fondness. I feel all warm and fuzzy thinking about the time, of the pangs of separation, and the delight of the aloneness and the shot at experiencing that with intention. It made our days in Goa so much more soft and I have a whole different set of Goa memories from last year, very different from when I lived there. Currently, we are at the opposite end of the spectrum with both of us being together at home 24/7. And I don’t even mean just post-lockdown. This has been a whole other kind of sweetness, and the lockdown has brought certain other aspects of our relationship up to the fore that I feel glad and grateful for.

There have been times in my life where I have walked into drastic changes bravely and with openness, and there have been other times where I have been plain unwilling, unable to take a step. At the moment, I’m at a point where the change ahead of me is bringing up fear of myself. I am treading slowly, unable to allow the full force of what lies ahead to engulf me, taking it in small baby steps, dipping my toes in a little bit everyday, instead.

But I know what I have been through. I know what I have weathered and what I have come through in this past year. So today, looking back at my posts from a year ago, seeing how good scary change can be was all kinds of reaffirming.

Slow change. Scary change.

Two years ago: Doesn’t mean I’ll stop 
Four years ago: Dawn to dusk

Monday Tarot Message: Practice intention and mindfulness

One of the purposes of healing the past is to move forward into a future independent of all that holds you back. Individuating from old patterns, toxic cycles, unsupportive relationships, limiting beliefs, and coming into your own power. Arriving at this place involves practice — practicing at life — starting with the most basic building blocks of intention and mindfulness.

Building intentionality is the first baby, but big, step at self-awareness. When you begin to practice this, in the smallest ways it slowly translates to practicing discernment.
Deliberate action.
Commitment to ones personal values.
Honouring the truth.
Boundaries and respect.
Compassion and empathy.

All of this builds the capacity to choose that which serves, and parse out all that doesn’t. That which heals, and that which poisons. That which holds you up, and that which drags you down. That which nourishes and nurtures, and that which drains. Which is basically what a healing journey is all about. Finding yourself, amidst the mess, choosing yourself and walking on.

The practice of intention and mindfulness begins to show up in your life slowly, subtly. You’ll see it in shifts in effective communication, harmonious relationships, respectful equations with people around you, the ability to witness your emotions, a life that is in flow, no matter what the circumstances.

To heal is to essentially move towards that which is in alignment with the self, leaving behind all misdirects. It’s a constant WIP, and you won’t always get it right. But every choice will teach you something, and the Queen of Swords is a reminder that you can move towards a place of mastery where this choice making, discernment, intentionality becomes second nature.

It all begins with cultivating a razor sharp focus on on intention and mindfulness.

Two years ago: I was born this way
Four years ago: Happy music fix

Just now

It gave me joy to do something for just myself yesterday. 90 minutes spent alone at home, by myself and with myself. At two points when we were required to place our palms on our heart centre, my eyes welled up profusely.

Practicing a form of yoga that isn’t about the physical body as much as it is about the emotional body. No getting sweaty and breathing heavy. No complex poses. No challenging the body physically. Just steady, mindful breathing for a whole 90 minutes, while observing what comes up emotionally, when the body is placed in certain ways.

As someone who has a strong physical practice that is all about the challenge, rigour and stretching my limits, and most definitely performing better, this is a challenge but surprisingly, as I discovered yesterday, also a delight.

***

Things I am desperately craving:

  • A really cold, crisp beer
  • A run in the park. Heck, even around the block would be good, right now
  • A good, meaty burger
  • Cool, crunchy papdi chaat, with cold dahi and pomegranate on top

Things that are making me really happy right now:

  • My plants (I’ve started to call it a garden) are thriving again, the hibiscus flowering regularly, all babies growing up very quickly, new shoots and leaves and buds showing up in places they haven’t before
  • Thums up
  • Mangoes
  • The silence

One year ago: Slow and steady
Two years ago: The times, they are a-changing
Four years ago: Go far, they said

Too much

Today I feel implicitly like my I am too much for people around me. I see how the newness in me makes everybody back off. My opinions are too loud, my views are too angry, my state of mind is too discontent, my emotions too negative, my questions too unnecessary, my presence too much. Everything — just too fucking much.

I have been a certain version of myself for so long now and as I feel that person — that always put-together, more or less agreeable, mostly pleasant and cheerful, always awkwardly goofy person — receding to the background, I’m not entirely sure my little world is ready for what’s showing up.

What’s showing up is a lot of intense emotion right now. And aside from myself, it is being met by deafening silence — absolute crickets — or being brushed aside with mirth and laughter.

I notice, in the tacit expressions of frustration and disdain, that this discomfort is from the other. I see how every effort to explain myself is taken as an invitation for confrontation. It isn’t. And I couldn’t be arsed to further explain that. An older me would have panicked and twisted myself into knots trying to make myself more palatable. Or do my bit in making swallowing the bitter pill being presented a touch better, so to speak.

This new side of me that I am still groping at, in the dark and discovering piece by piece slowly, doesn’t give a fuck.

It is scarily freeing. And I feel afraid of just how much I can push the world away.

As much as I feel filled out and in my space and potency, in the steady and consistent stepping back of people, I also feel a hollowing ache. Bracing for a lot more loneliness in the months to come.

One year ago: Separate, yet connected
Two years ago: Where is the love

Mid-week Tarot: Loss and betrayal

Pulled a card for myself today, because I needed clarity around this pronounced unease that has surfaced in the last week or so, along with the strange return of someone once close to me that I moved away from, because I never felt seen/heard/loved around them.

But, even as I say “they”, the Two of Cups showed up to once again remind me that it takes two to tango. Both parties create a dynamic. While it may be about them and what they were able/not able to give me, it is also about me (or you).

I know this for sure, especially given the person I am talking about. I did the right thing recognise the dynamic, acknowledge honestly to myself (and to them) what was just not working for me, and move away. But there was something incomplete about the way in which it ended and I carry this desire to have the last word.

Being unseen then spoke of what I wasn’t seeing something in me. And as that same feeling re-surfaces now, I wonder what I am not seeing in myself now too.

The feeling of being unseen in that relationship, reflected my own blindness and refusal to step up to my own need for honesty and greater vulnerability from the other party. The thing is when you open your eyes to a deep need and voicing it is that there’s a 50-50 chance the other party will see it and be able to hold space for it in the way that you need. It could go either way.

I was heartbroken when my hunch that this wouldn’t happen was in fact confirmed. It made me completely move away, and as happy as that development has been, I do carry some disappointment and a sense of betrayal. Almost like everything we had before then was a lie. This is in fact true. A lot of it was indeed a lie, a charade, because I feel like we were playing at being friends, for as long as I was turning away form my intuition that constantly prodded me for more, but I continued to ignore it.

***

As we grow into our skin, we may outgrow people and situations. As we feel fuller in our own beings, we may often find the courage to move away from people who don’t see us fully for who we are. Sometimes the parting is amicable and natural, sometimes abrupt, discomfiting and leaves an unpleasant taste for years to come.

Either way, the wonderful thing about individuating in this manner is that it means you are ready to 1) let go of what no longer serves you 2) make space for new people who will be willing to see you fully.

The Two of Cups shows that sometimes we choose people who serve a very specific purpose. By refusing to see all of us, doubting, judging, being competitive with, mocking and rejecting us, they push us closer to accepting ourselves.

And when that purpose is served, we leave.

Being who you truly are involves walking alone (literally and metaphorically) for much of the journey. It comes with losing people and connection, over and over. I have known this for years, and even as my ease with accepting this grows, the fear of loss and loneliness, old hurt and abandonment resurfaces.

I am reliving that sense of betrayal and of recognising how unseen I was. And it is reminding me to check what I am turning away from, refusing to see currently. It brings unease, but it also serves to shine the light on my path again, reminding me that I must first stand in my power, see myself fully, for those who vibe at my frequency to see me fully.

If you’ve been experiencing unease, rejection or doubt in an intimate relationship, it’s a good time to check if there is something in you that you are rejecting. Is your intuition telling you something that you are not ready to acknowledge?

Back then it was the need for honesty and vulnerability for me. I knew it, i felt it, and yet I pushed it away.

No more.

One year ago: Postcard from staycation — 2
Two years ago: Remind yourself: nobody built like you

Work updates, lockdown edition

I get a fair number of questions, whether prospective clients or general population, about the whys and hows of tarot and what drew me to it, what I get out of it, how it works and why I took to the cards at all.

I get that the perception around tarot cards is shrouded in mystery and it carries a heavy woo-woo charge that some folks avoid because it clashes with their left-brain decision making. And some of this is true. Tarot cards have a foundation in an ancient practice that deals with archetypes, symbols and divination practices. But increasingly, they’re being used in a wide range of applications in the contemporary world, with surprising results. More and more, they’re finding a place, and sparking growing interest, in the world of mental health, self-awareness and self-development. This is the area I am slowly carving a path in as I go, and I hope to grow deeper in this way. So if you have been contemplating this, or if you have questions, please feel free to reach out to me.

Many of you might already know I became interested in reading tarot cards as a tool for my own self-development. It has been a very personal and intimate part of my growth journey. So to now be able to share it with people around me, in my city, around India and far, far beyond (USA, Europe, Dubai, Australia, Singapore, Sri Lanka, at last count) has been extremely satisfying.

So to answer some of the questions I usually get, I’m doing a series of short posts to try and demystify my work. I’m posting my Instagram post as it is, so you can swipe through the carousel to see it, if it interests you. I hope you find it useful, and worth sharing.

If it piques your interest in a session, either for yourself or for someone you think might benefit, please reach out to me or spread the word.

View this post on Instagram

I became interested in reading Tarot Cards as a tool for my own self-development. To now be able to share something so personal and intimate with people, whether in my city, or as far as Australia, Europe, America and beyond has been very, very satisfying. . To answer questions on how it works, how useful it can be and whether it's just mumbo-jumbo, I'm starting off a series of posts on why and how Tarot has helped me. . I hope you find it useful, and worth sharing. If it piques your interest in a session, please reach out to me. . Swipe to read ahead 🤓 . . . . . #riderwaitetarot #tarotwithrevati #tarotcardreadersofinstagram #tarotoninstagram #revatismondaymessages #tarotforhealing #tarotmatters #tarotforallseasons #tarotforallreasons #everydaytarot

A post shared by Revati Upadhya . Com (@revatiupadhya) on

Like pretty much the whole world, my work slowed down a bit as we all got locked in at home. I had workshops planned out till June, including some in Mumbai, but of course everything is now shelved, possibly indefinitely.

I didn’t take a break from taking personal sessions for readings during this time, though, since this is location-agnostic practice. It was very easy to just move all sessions online. I just didn’t announce or expressly push them, stepping back from “marketing”. Partly because I slowed down considerably with the change in routine and my time suddenly being spent doing so much else around the house.

Come April, the tide turned and I noticed a natural spike in requests for readings again. Many questions around dealing with uncertainty have come up. Almost everyone has questions about work prospects. It is a time that is bubbling with possibility, even as it feels slow and inward.

I took it as a sign to get out there again. There seems to be a need for answers and I am happy to help in whatever way I can. I also feel more settled in a new rhythm of organised-chaotic around here.

I continue to take enquiries for personal reading sessions. This is most easily done online, either on a video call if you prefer and are comfortable, or a regular voice call too. So if you have been considering — whether you’re in Bangalore or not — please reach out.

One year ago: Postcard from staycation — 1
Four years ago: Satisfaction