Reading for yourself is the hardest reading there is. You know too much, want too much, and every card obligingly bends toward the answer you already fear or crave.
Five rules help. One: write the question down before you shuffle — verbatim, no editing after. Two: one spread per question, per day. The deck gets quieter each time you re-ask; your anxiety gets louder. Three: read the cards as if a stranger had drawn them, and say the reading out loud.
Four: separate the reading from the decision. The cards describe; you decide — ideally the next morning. Five: keep a record. A reading you cannot remember a week later was noise; the ones that stay with you are the ones that mattered.
And the stopping rule, the one that matters most: if you notice you are drawing cards to change the answer rather than to hear it, put the deck down. That is not divination anymore; that is bargaining. The Hermit’s lantern only works when you stand still.
For reflection and entertainment — the cards suggest; you decide.