MY STORY
How a Journalist Ended Up Reading People Through Cards for a Living (And Why That’s Less Weird Than It Sounds)
I learned to read Tarot cards before I could read books. Thanks, Mom. While other five-year-olds were learning to share crayons, I was learning that the Tower card means someone’s about to have a very interesting week. My parents probably should have been concerned. Instead, they just asked me to pull cards before family dinners. “Should we invite Aunt Marija?” draws Ten of Swords “Maybe next month.”
Your body recognizes a pattern-reader before your mind catches up. Something in your nervous system knows when it’s being seen, even through a screen, even through words on a page.
In our house, this wasn’t weird. What was weird was that the neighbors didn’t have an occult library in their living room. The neighbor called our apartment “the witches’ den.” Maybe as a joke. Maybe not entirely. Mom had ordered that first deck from Germany via Belgrade and waited six weeks to receive it. 1982. Yugoslavia. Customs probably had questions.
My skin already knew things my mind couldn’t name. My blood ran faster when I turned over a card. My body was an antenna before I knew that word existed.
The cards stayed. Through classical gymnasium (translating Homer and Sophocles while secretly wondering if the Greeks had a spread for that). Through journalism school. Through a decade of media work where my official job was “reporter” and my unofficial job was “person everyone tells their secrets to for some reason.”
THE PART WHERE FAMOUS PEOPLE KEPT CRYING IN INTERVIEWS
Here’s what nobody warned me about mixing Tarot with press credentials: actors would walk in for standard PR interviews and walk out having told me about their divorces, their addictions, that thing they swore they’d never say on record. Not because I asked. Because something in their system recognized something in mine and went oh thank god, someone safe.
Fashion editors crying in bathroom stalls. CEOs quietly closing conference room doors to whisper “what do the cards say about the merger.” A pop star asking me about death fifteen minutes into what was supposed to be an album promo.
(The album was fine. She just needed to talk about her grandmother. We all have priorities.)
Your blood carries the work you’re meant to do. Sometimes it takes a decade of writing skincare advertorials before your bones finally stage a revolt.
I was good at journalism. My nervous system was better at something else. The fluorescent lights were killing me slowly. The PowerPoint presentations were killing me faster. And somewhere around year eight of pretending my real skill was “interviewing,” I started wondering if maybe I should just... do the thing I’d been doing since I was five. Officially. With a website and everything.
WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED WHEN I STOPPED PRETENDING
Fifteen years ago, I made it official. Cards on the table, literally. People on the other side of them, finally allowed to ask what they actually wanted to know instead of what looked good on a press release.
Turns out what people actually want to know is: why does my life feel like this and what do I do now and am I crazy or is something actually shifting. Same questions whether you’re a cleaner or a CEO. The only difference is the vocabulary.
The cards don’t lie. And neither does the body reading them. Forty years of turning over cards has taught my hands something my head still can’t fully articulate.
Three years of Shiatsu school cracked something open along the way. Not because I wanted to do bodywork, but because I needed to understand WHY things shift. Why certain exercises reorganize people. Why breath changes everything. Why the body holds what the mind refuses to look at.
Because here’s the thing: you can tell someone “you’re sad because of your past lives” and they’ll nod and feel seen. But if you work with the lung meridian, the sadness physically leaves. And when you stop working it, the sadness returns. Which means maybe... maybe it was never about past lives. Maybe it was always just nervous systems. Doing nervous system things. Running patterns that can be seen and changed.
That question ruined me. In the best way.
Your body knows things your mind keeps filing under “too weird to examine.” I just learned to read what the cards say about it.
So I started researching. Neuroscience. Polyvagal theory. Quantum physics. Field theory. Why some things work even when the story around them is obviously made up. Forty years of searching for what’s actually true finally had somewhere to land. And then I started writing it all down.
THE CREDENTIALS PARAGRAPH (For the Part of Your Brain That Needs It)
40 years of Tarot. 15 years of reading people professionally. Books that basically say everything I wish someone had told me before I wasted a decades on spiritual frameworks that sounded good and changed nothing. Classical education with too much Greek tragedy. Journalism degree from the Faculty of Political Science in Zagreb. A decade in Croatian media. Three years of Shiatsu. A lifetime of being the person strangers tell their secrets to in grocery store lines.
Your bones don’t care about credentials. They care about whether something lands as true. But your brain needed this paragraph, so here it is, filing its taxes and wearing sensible shoes.
WHAT I KNOW NOW (After Burning Down Most of What I Used to Think Was True)
I used to accept the whole package. Past lives. Soul contracts. Karmic lessons. The works. I gave people exercises that changed their lives and told them it was because the universe had plans for them.
The exercises worked (thanks Taoism&Shiatsu). The story was wrong.
Your body knows the difference between truth and comfort. Truth lands in your chest like recognition. Comfort lands in your head like relief. They’re not the same.
Your soul didn’t choose your trauma before birth. That’s not how any of this works. The universe isn’t “testing” you like some cosmic SAT administrator with a clipboard and a grudge. And suffering doesn’t build character in any way that couldn’t be achieved through, say, learning to play the cello or finally organizing that drawer you’ve been avoiding since 2019.
Here’s what I actually know now, after 40 years of watching humans shift:
Your body isn’t a container for spirit. Your body IS spirit in dense form. Condensed Field. The divine slowed down enough to have a nervous system and opinions about parking.
That’s the whole game. You’re not a meat suit carrying around a soul like a designer handbag. You’re not “connected to” the Field like wifi to a router. You ARE the Field, temporarily convinced you’re separate from it, walking around in what happens when consciousness gets dense enough to have a postal address.
Your flesh is not obstacle to the divine. Your flesh is what the divine looks like when it wants to taste coffee and cry at movies and fall in love.
The old paradigm said: transcend the body to reach spirit. Leave the meat, find God.
This paradigm says: the body is where God landed. You’re not trying to GET to the divine. You’re trying to remember you never left.
Your nervous system isn’t blocking your spiritual growth. Your nervous system IS spiritual technology, running patterns that can be seen and shifted.
Some of those patterns are yours. Some are inherited from people who died before you learned their names. Some are survival strategies that made brilliant sense at five and are now torpedoing your relationships at forty while your therapist takes notes and your body screams in a language your mind keeps pretending it doesn’t speak.
All of it can be reorganized. Not by thinking differently. Not by affirming your way to enlightenment. Not by “raising your vibration” like you’re a microwave trying to ascend.
By working with what you actually are: Field in flesh form, remembering itself.
That’s not less spiritual than angels and past lives. That’s MORE. Because it means you were never separate from the sacred. You just forgot.
That’s what I write about. That’s what the cards show me. That’s what I help people remember.
FAIR WARNING
Reading my work may result in: the uncomfortable realization that some of your assumptions aren’t actually yours. A dramatically reduced tolerance for spiritual bypassing (including your own). Spontaneous laughter at patterns that used to make you cry. The weird sensation of your body relaxing because someone finally said the thing out loud.
Side effects include telling the truth faster, trusting your gut more, and an inability to sit through “love and light” workshops without making faces.
WHY I’M HERE
Because I spent 40 years looking for what’s actually true and I finally found some of it.
Because your nervous system is tired of performing wellness.
Because somewhere in your chest, reading this, something is quietly going yes, her.
If that’s happening, trust it. Your body is Field remembering itself. It knows what it recognizes.
Welcome. I’m glad you’re here.
Dea 🔥