- Joined
- Jul 18, 2026
- Messages
- 116
- Reaction score
- 149
- Awards
- 2
AUTHOR'S NOTE: A popular opinion among visionary tarot practitioners is that formal (aka " positional") spreads are far too rigid in structure (or putting it more kindly, too conservative) and therefore hamper the kind of fluid, freestyle interpretation they favor. Consequently, they prefer pulling and reading cards until the number drawn and the story they tell feel "just right" in an intuitive way.
I call it "throwing everything against the wall to see what sticks." It might also be dubbed the "Goldilocks obsession" that seeks an oracular experience of an agreeable size, texture and temperament, a preoccupation that seems to be more about staying in the reader's comfort zone than undertaking any strenuous mental heavy-lifting. This disavowal of a systematic framework is usually due to mystical sentiments that might be attributed directly to widespread faith in the guidance of benevolent spirits (something the savvy astral traveler views with suspicion).
Compared to the paltry 60+ mentioned in my first essay on the subject posted in 2017, over the past nine years I have developed well over 300 tarot and Lenormand spreads, the vast majority of them positional in design. I find that having conceptual guardrails for my readings is eminently efficient by keeping the prediction on a taut leash so I don't wander around looking for informal hints that will hopefully point me in the right direction, and I won't plunge off any insurmountable "cliffs-of-no-return" in my haste to come to closure. If I have an anchor I won't be lured into error by footloose "hot air" (i.e. aimless rhetoric) of my own making.
My goal has not been to put the narrative "on rails" like the worst of the computer adventure games where the player's objectives are all laid out in advance. Instead, I want to create a landscape that opens up to exploration while still providing a "roadmap with signposts" that will steer me toward the destination when I'm ready to move on. Unlike the protagonist in the Styx song "Too Much Time on My Hands," I can't afford to have "nowhere to go and all day to get there." In truth, there is always a reasonable answer and I don't want to spend all day finding it, so a competent spread can keep me on-track.
I've come across a few spread-creation tutorials over the years, but all of them were overly complex. For me, spread construction boils down to three essential ingredients: "What do I want to know about the matter in question?" (i.e. "What should my position meanings cover?"); "How much do I want to know about the subject?" (i.e. "How many spread positions do I need to adequately explain it?"); and "How do I want the message delivered?" (i.e. "What form should the layout take: line; triangle; square; circle; parallel; multi-pointed, etc?"). That's really all there is to it, and it tends to encourage more streamlined readings with clearer objectives. I've found five cards to be the "sweet spot" for this.
Currently, my favorite pattern is the five-card "bell-curve" sequence with a peak moment (often a turning-point, climax or crisis) in the middle or "hinge" position. This spread can handle nearly any conceivable reading scenario where an up-and-down linear path to the conclusion is envisioned, and I've crafted quite a few variations on the theme. Right up there with it is the modest French Cross that admirably serves a similar purpose. Another common layout in my repertoire is the nine-card "box" in a variety of analytical modes.
Three cards are the bare minimum with which I pursue a narrower scope, often using a triangular format that embraces the three principles of the "Hegelian (actually Johann Fichte's) dialectic:" thesis, antithesis and synthesis or, more prosaically, action, reaction and resolution. The three-card line is useful mainly for brief "past/present/future" readings
Then there is the "parallel" arrangement of two or more chains of cards that are read via comparison for the purpose of decision-making. Last but not least among the standard population is the venerable Celtic Cross, which I have described as the "Swiss Army knife" of all-purpose spreads. (Lenormand reading is a separate subject that I won't go into here, but the Grand Tableau is the "gold standard" of exceptionally large layouts, unless we're brave enough to attempt one of Etteilla's 45-card extravaganzas.)
The formal spread can become the literal reader's best friend when more specificity is wanted than merely a "warm, fuzzy feeling" about the querent's forthcoming opportunities and challenges. It offers a coherent overview of the salient features while also imparting chapter, verse and footnotes for their comprehensive expression. Of course, it's not nearly that anal in practice, I'm just waxing poetic, but you get the picture: there is little subjective guesswork required when the details are spelled out in an intelligible fashion.
When coupled with the traditional card meanings, classical spreads deliver the descriptive baseline for the discerning diviner's amplification with more vivid storytelling content. Once understood, they can be embellished as needed with a mix of inspiration, imagination and ingenuity. My own recipe for success involves disciplined analysis augmented and energized by anecdotal insights derived from decades of involvement with cartomantic divination.
I call it "throwing everything against the wall to see what sticks." It might also be dubbed the "Goldilocks obsession" that seeks an oracular experience of an agreeable size, texture and temperament, a preoccupation that seems to be more about staying in the reader's comfort zone than undertaking any strenuous mental heavy-lifting. This disavowal of a systematic framework is usually due to mystical sentiments that might be attributed directly to widespread faith in the guidance of benevolent spirits (something the savvy astral traveler views with suspicion).
Compared to the paltry 60+ mentioned in my first essay on the subject posted in 2017, over the past nine years I have developed well over 300 tarot and Lenormand spreads, the vast majority of them positional in design. I find that having conceptual guardrails for my readings is eminently efficient by keeping the prediction on a taut leash so I don't wander around looking for informal hints that will hopefully point me in the right direction, and I won't plunge off any insurmountable "cliffs-of-no-return" in my haste to come to closure. If I have an anchor I won't be lured into error by footloose "hot air" (i.e. aimless rhetoric) of my own making.
My goal has not been to put the narrative "on rails" like the worst of the computer adventure games where the player's objectives are all laid out in advance. Instead, I want to create a landscape that opens up to exploration while still providing a "roadmap with signposts" that will steer me toward the destination when I'm ready to move on. Unlike the protagonist in the Styx song "Too Much Time on My Hands," I can't afford to have "nowhere to go and all day to get there." In truth, there is always a reasonable answer and I don't want to spend all day finding it, so a competent spread can keep me on-track.
I've come across a few spread-creation tutorials over the years, but all of them were overly complex. For me, spread construction boils down to three essential ingredients: "What do I want to know about the matter in question?" (i.e. "What should my position meanings cover?"); "How much do I want to know about the subject?" (i.e. "How many spread positions do I need to adequately explain it?"); and "How do I want the message delivered?" (i.e. "What form should the layout take: line; triangle; square; circle; parallel; multi-pointed, etc?"). That's really all there is to it, and it tends to encourage more streamlined readings with clearer objectives. I've found five cards to be the "sweet spot" for this.
Currently, my favorite pattern is the five-card "bell-curve" sequence with a peak moment (often a turning-point, climax or crisis) in the middle or "hinge" position. This spread can handle nearly any conceivable reading scenario where an up-and-down linear path to the conclusion is envisioned, and I've crafted quite a few variations on the theme. Right up there with it is the modest French Cross that admirably serves a similar purpose. Another common layout in my repertoire is the nine-card "box" in a variety of analytical modes.
Three cards are the bare minimum with which I pursue a narrower scope, often using a triangular format that embraces the three principles of the "Hegelian (actually Johann Fichte's) dialectic:" thesis, antithesis and synthesis or, more prosaically, action, reaction and resolution. The three-card line is useful mainly for brief "past/present/future" readings
Then there is the "parallel" arrangement of two or more chains of cards that are read via comparison for the purpose of decision-making. Last but not least among the standard population is the venerable Celtic Cross, which I have described as the "Swiss Army knife" of all-purpose spreads. (Lenormand reading is a separate subject that I won't go into here, but the Grand Tableau is the "gold standard" of exceptionally large layouts, unless we're brave enough to attempt one of Etteilla's 45-card extravaganzas.)
The formal spread can become the literal reader's best friend when more specificity is wanted than merely a "warm, fuzzy feeling" about the querent's forthcoming opportunities and challenges. It offers a coherent overview of the salient features while also imparting chapter, verse and footnotes for their comprehensive expression. Of course, it's not nearly that anal in practice, I'm just waxing poetic, but you get the picture: there is little subjective guesswork required when the details are spelled out in an intelligible fashion.
When coupled with the traditional card meanings, classical spreads deliver the descriptive baseline for the discerning diviner's amplification with more vivid storytelling content. Once understood, they can be embellished as needed with a mix of inspiration, imagination and ingenuity. My own recipe for success involves disciplined analysis augmented and energized by anecdotal insights derived from decades of involvement with cartomantic divination.